| BOOK SIX | THE LONDON CRIME KING | A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE NOVEL |
This book contains adult language and subject matter, including graphic violence, drugs and explicit sex that may be disturbing to some readers.
This series is NOT a typical romance...
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Jacqueline is a bereaved parent facilitator. I found her details online when looking for local help centres. I liked her already. Her natural, upbeat demeanour, friendly smile and animated hand gestures made the next stages of my life easier than I had initially thought. I had a vision of walking into a room full of quiet, watchful people and then running back out.
Instead of drawing attention to me in front of a group of people, Jacqueline continued to engage with others, telling them about her weekend antics, and placed a spare chair in their formulated circle for me to become seated.
Sliding the handbag strap down my arm, I sat down on the plastic chair, stiff and nervous, and tuned into ongoing conversations.
"Archie was my youngest grandchild." An older woman with short, jet-black hair, red-framed glasses and a multicoloured scarf spoke to the inner circle. "Archie was so happy and content for a baby. He rarely cried or fussed. He loved his sleep, warm cuddles and the sound of his mother's laugh. His face would light up whenever his father leaned into the crib to pick him up or if the other children danced around in the background."
Everyone had photo frames on their laps, as advised on Jacquline's website. I glanced at each picture to put a face to the deceased. They were too young to be gone, babies, toddlers, teenagers and young adults.
"My daughter had called in the middle of the night. It was the most terrifying call I had ever received. God, I will never forget the pain and fear in her voice as she cried. She found little Archie in the cot, unbreathing and unresponsive."
My heart squeezed.
"Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. He went to sleep and never woke up." The older woman used scrunched-up tissues to dab tears underneath her eyes. "Never in a million years did I think something like this could happen to one of my grandchildren."
Jacqueline nodded, listening to the woman's heart-breaking story. I, however, had to look at the ceiling to blink back tears. I don't know how people do this without falling apart. It is far too emotional for fragile hearts.
"I have to be strong for my daughter and Archie's older brother and sister. I visit daily to help around the house: cooking, cleaning, laundry, and school runs. It is not unusual to see my daughter in bed, having stayed up all night, crying or vomiting, or to see an empty driveway because my son-in-law had to leave again. It's too much for him, her pain, his pain, the children's pain. He wanders off to think, I imagine."
An older man snivelled.
"Even now, at forty-one years of age, my daughter needs me to come into her world and make everything okay, just like I did when she was a little girl. And I do it with a loving smile on my face and with words of encouragement because that's what she is looking for: her mother's reassurance and love. Little does she know, I go home every night and cry for poor little Archie and for the family he left behind."
