Dangerous Lady by Martina Cole

a fine singer. In the hush, broken only by the scraping of the shovels in the dirt and the soft thuds as it landed on the coffin, she sang ‘Amazing Grace’. To outsiders it would have looked incongruous: men in black zoot suits, all with fashionable elephant’s trunk hair styles, filling in a grave, surrounded by more men and women dressed in black. The women’s hats and bright make-up made them look like exotic birds. To the Ryans and their like, Anthony had been given a magnificent send-off.
    Sarah stood dignified and erect as her sons buried their brother. She would not cry here; she would wait until after the wake, when she was alone. In the scorching heat she had felt as if she would pass out; now she wished she had. It would have saved her having to watch this grisly ritual, the burying of her son’s remains. She closed her eyes, her hand on her daughter’s soft and springy hair.
    When the singing was over and Anthony buried, the mourners went to the family and paid their respects. Diana Dors, the secret object of the young policeman’s desire, hugged Michael long and hard. She was a firm favourite of everybody there, a kind, loving, generous woman who never in all her life judged anyone. Freddie Mills and his boyfriend Michael Holiday each clasped Michael to them. Freddie Mills had been Michael’s boyhood hero. It had been worship of him that had aroused Michael’s interest in boxing. Nowadays he met him socially, as an equal. A few days before Anthony’s death they had been together at the Lancaster Road Baths watching local semi-professional boxers.
    It did not escape Sarah’s notice that Michael was treated as the head of the family and her husband relegated to
    second position. That was how it should be. After all, Michael was the main provider. He made sure that she had ample money. More than enough in fact. She did not feel overawed by the company at her son’s funeral. She had known Violet Kray for many years. The Richardson boys had been visitors to her house for a long time. Many of the mourners were young men who had grown up with her sons. Petty criminals most of them, but good boys all the same.
    Roy’s wife looked depressed as usual. Sarah knew that it was not the funeral that had put the sad look on her daughter-in-law’s face, but something quite different. Janine and Roy had problems, she was sure of that. Neither of them looked happy these days. Their daughter, Carla, nearly five now, looked as if she hadn’t been washed for days. Sarah made a mental note to go and see Janine. Even in her grief she could still look out for her remaining children.
    Finally, they began to make their way back to the cars. Sarah noticed Roy trying to take Janine’s hand and being shrugged off. She frowned. As if there wasn’t enough unhappiness in the family, they had to bring their petty squabbles into the cemetery with them.
    Benny was staring at the mound of dirt that covered his brother. Benjamin walked back to get him, his old face looking more haggard and careworn than usual. He had been drinking steadily since the early morning.
    ‘Come on, son.’ His voice was slurred but gentle.
    Benny was staring intently at a large worm wriggling on the pile of damp earth. In his mind’s eye he saw it boring its way into the earth, down, down, until it reached his brother’s face. Covering his own face with his hands, he was overtaken by silent sobs that made his shoulders shake. He was as tall as his father, and as Benjamin took his
    namesake into his arms, he felt the strength of him.
    Sarah was watching them. She realised for the first time how Benjamin must be feeling. After all, Anthony had been his son too. A feeling she had not known in over a decade slipped through her body. All animosity towards her husband dissolved and a spark of affection for him seemed to light up inside her, as it had in the old days. She couldn’t blame him entirely for what had happened. Children would go their own way in