‘You do recognize me then?’ said Lil as Angel took the bags of groceries into the kitchen and started putting them away.

Angel nodded, feeling flustered. She’d never exchanged a civil word with her aunt, and she didn’t want to start.

‘You’re Lil. My mother’s sister,’ she said unwillingly.

‘That’s right. And my God, don’t you look like Dora. You know, it startled me at the funeral. Almost looked like it was her standing there.’ Lil leaned back against the worktop and beheld her niece. ‘Hardly seems fair, you know. Dora was always a pretty one, but you’re a step on from that, aren’t you. And here am I. Not exactly plug ugly, but I’ve never been a looker. And you’ve seen my sister June. Poor cow’s scrawnier than a starving dog.’

Angel put the last item away and straightened up, screwing up a carrier bag in her hand. ‘Tom’s a good-looking boy,’ she said.

‘Well he’s got my black hair, that helps. And a friendly face. Everyone loves Tom. How are you, Angel? He told me you had some trouble.’

Some trouble hardly covered it. Angel bit her lip mulishly, not willing to discuss any of it with the relatives who’d cut both her and her mother out so completely.

‘I’m fine,’ she said.

‘That’s not what Tom says.’

Angel glared at her. ‘You know, it’s a pity none of you thought to be nice to Mum when she was alive,’ she burst out. ‘It’s all very well you laying flowers now she’s dead. It’s a bit bloody late.’

Lil nodded her head. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It is. But those were different times, you know. It wasn’t done, what Dora did. It was shameful to our parents. Well, to Dad. And then when Dad died, Mum sort of blamed Dora for it, for all the worry she’d caused him. Dora could have done anything, danced naked on tables – which it wouldn’t surprise me if she did at some point in her life – and once upon a time our mum would have taken her side. But anyway – the flowers? I think it’s the least I can do. I did love your mother, in my way. I think perhaps even June did, somehow. Although she drove us all mad with her crazy ways.’

Angel said nothing. It was all lies, that the family had loved her mother. Rotten, filthy lies. They’d pushed Dora aside, left her to rot.

Slowly, Lil straightened. ‘Time I was going. Let Tom know I called in, will you?’

‘All right.’

Lil stopped moving and looked at Angel. Then she picked her bag up off the counter, fished inside, found a pen and a scrap of paper. She wrote something on it, placed it on the worktop.

‘Look, if you ever do need to get in touch . . . if you need anything, ring me. All right?’

‘I won’t,’ said Angel. She’d managed without their help all her life. No way was she going to go pleading to them now.