They had often gone to the six o’clock Mass with their mum, before they went to school. She still went to early Mass most days and, years ago, her two boys had stood beside her, both of them repeating the liturgy without a thought. It was something they had always listened to, was already a part of them. Both of them scrubbed till they shone, so young they didn’t question any of it. Theresa had held their hands in hers as if her life depended on it, sure in the knowledge that God was looking out for them. They didn’t know then that their mum was looked down on because she had them both – one black and one white – and no husband to boot. They had not known then that their mum had had to be brave to walk into the church with her head held high, and her two little boys dressed like princes, and that she had to run the gauntlet of public opinion every time. That she was looked at with disgust, and treated with disdain. They had only realised that much later, and she had told them that she did not give a flying fuck about a crowd of dried-up old fucking bitches who looked down their noses at her, and that she was proud of her boys. She said she knew that if God Himself had seen fit to send them to her, she was not going to let a few old bags, who had never had a real fucking shag in their lives, dictate to her how she should act in public. Christ Himself was fatherless, Joseph was His foster father, for fuck’s sake, and poor Mary was one of the first unmarried mothers!

Peter kept his eyes closed, but he was smiling as he remembered her anger. He had understood a lot sooner than she realised that his colour was the main bone of contention with the women around them. She had been abandoned by her family because of him, and he loved her for keeping him and loving him like she had.

Peter turned his attention back to the Mass, aware that they were being watched; everyone around them was more interested in them than the actual baptism. His appearance had guaranteed a lot of the guests turning up – not for Daniel, but because they wanted to keep in with Peter.

His mum had been right, as bad as Daniel was, this was about more than the two of them. It was about Lena, and the lads, little Tania, and his own Imelda too. It was a real family affair and Ria was over the moon; she loved little Tania dearly.