She realised that Big Lenny had finally gone to his great reward and, drying her tears, she set about putting a rosary into his hands. She wiped his face with a damp flannel and tried to brush down his unruly hair. At least he would have the comfort of being with his son, and she would bide her time until it was her turn to go to them. She had nothing now, no one to call her own. The knowledge frightened her. How would she live without human contact? It had been hard enough when Big Lenny had been by her side, but he had become like a child to her. Looking after him had brought a focus to her days. Now it would be just her and her alone.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see the priest, Father Gordon, smiling down at her. God was good. No matter what happened she would always have the church.

‘Come away now, Lesley, and we will get you a cup of tea.’

The nurses were grateful to him for taking her away so they could deal with her husband’s body. Standing up, Lesley kissed her husband’s forehead and meekly followed the priest to the hospital canteen. It occurred to her that the funeral was yet to come, and that would show her just how alone she really was.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-One

‘I am pushing, for fuck’s sake!’

Ray Donovan was deeply regretting being present at the birth. Sharon was irritable in the extreme and he felt that he was getting in the nurse’s way. But he plastered a smile on his face and tried to look as if he was enjoying the experience. He had no idea how brutal and bloody giving birth was. Real life was nothing like it was on the TV where the women had full make-up on and smiled serenely. He had never heard language like this coming out of Sharon’s mouth before. She was sweating like a pig and he was well aware that he was getting on her nerves, but what could he do? She had refused the pethidine and was on gas and air; and every time she was about to scream another obscenity he was covering her mouth up with the breathing apparatus – and that was making her even angrier. If he was honest, he could do with the fucking pethidine himself!

The midwife was a nice lady, a big Jamaican woman who stood no nonsense from either of the nurses or her charge. ‘Come on now, Sharon. A few more pushes and your baby will be here.’