'Are you sure you're alright' Ric eyed her nervously for the fifth time since the hearse had arrived less than two minutes earlier and she rolled her eyes with irritation, straightening her knee length black skirt and applying another coat of lipstick, looking altogether too immaculate and stylish for a supposedly distraught daughter attending her father's funeral. She looked more like she was preparing for a bout with the hospital board.

'I'm fine' she muttered soullessly, running a hand distractedly through her hair and refusing to meet his eye 'I do wish she'd pull herself together' she added with a scornful grimace in the general direction of her sobbing stepmother who stood in the doorway of the house, gazing heartbrokenly at the hearse that Connie was trying very hard not to look at 'it just isn't dignified'

'She's lost her husband' Ric frowned slightly, seeing nothing wrong with the older woman's display, although admittedly it was a little more public than would otherwise be ideal and he could see the twitching curtains as the neighbours all clamoured to take in the scene.

'And I've lost my father' Connie replied dully 'you don't see me collapsing in a grieving heap, providing the neighbours with a scene that they'll dine out on for years to come, do you?'

'No' he admitted, but silently he thought that he'd probably have preferred it if she had. Anything would be better than this frosty, uncaring demeanour that she seemed to have taken on since her exchange with her stepmother earlier in the day. If he was honest, it frightened him a little, and he suspected that her unaffected stance would probably not go down particularly well with the congregation of mourners collecting outside the house, ready for the short walk to the church. Her father had clearly been a popular man and he suspected that the opinion of his friends and relatives would be that his daughter had an obligation to at least pretend that she cared that he was no longer with them.

'Well then' she stated in an "I rest my case" tone, slowly beginning to make her way outside, eyes firmly averted from the hearse bearing her father's coffin as they made their way slowly to the funeral.

'So how did you know Robert?' an aged aunt stood, blocking his path, asking the question that he had dreaded since they arrived back at Leah's house for the wake. He was pretty sure that "I didn't, I'm just screwing his daughter" was not a response that would be well received, so he evaded the question.

'I'm a friend of Connie's' he shrugged eventually 'I'm here to support her more than anything'

'She's going to need it' the elderly woman smiled slightly maliciously and nodded towards the makeshift "bar" in the kitchen where Connie was on what looked horribly like her fourth or fifth glass of vodka, downing her drink as soon as Leah's back was turned 'She always was quite partial to a drink'

'I know' he nodded sombrely, desperately looking for a way to escape the woman in his path without knocking her and her Zimmer frame flying 'I should go and…'

'Leave her be' the aunt stated sagely 'she's attention seeking; she'll stop if you ignore her'

'I…' Ric trailed off with a single blink, the woman's quite outstanding stupidity rendering him momentarily speechless. Connie wasn't going to stop drinking if she thought that Ric hadn't seen her; if anything, she would drink more and more and then he would be faced once again with the horrible possibility of her making a speech. The scene at the charity ball a few weeks before had been bad; whatever she had to say about her father, he suspected would be worse.

'She did this at her mother's funeral' the aunt continued blithely and Ric felt his brow furrow with confusion as a niggling doubt as to the honesty of her story about her mother embedded itself in his mind; after all, she had been untruthful about her step mother and her drinking so there was no good reason why her story about her mother's death wasn't also a pack of lies.

'When she was eight?' he asked eventually, his eyes still fixed on Connie who was now attempting to get up and dance, something which he knew he would quickly have to put a stop to unless he wanted to see her crash through the glass front of the drinks cabinet.

'Eighteen' the aunt nodded, adjusting her hearing aid as Ric felt a chill sweep through him 'just before she started University. She went rather off the rails after that…'

'Really' his face was impassive as he made to sidestep the elderly woman and go and intercept Connie who was now standing still and looking worryingly like she was going to make a speech 'What happened to her mother?'

'Car accident' the woman dropped her voice 'Connie was trapped in the passenger seat for hours; she had to watch her mother slip away before her eyes, and yet when they got Connie out there was barely a scratch on her'

'That's terrible' he frowned and then saw Connie clear her throat in an ominous fashion 'will you excuse me. Lovely speaking to you' he pasted a false smile across his face and moved briskly to her side, clamping an arm round her middle to keep her upright and a kiss on her lips to keep her silent.

'What are you doing?' she exclaimed, struggling futilely in his grasp, fortunately no longer possessing the coordination to make a realistic attempt at escaping him.

'Taking you home' he replied shortly, his arms still around her middle as she stopped wriggling and leaned heavily against him 'I thought you didn't drink in front of your stepmother' he added, on the off chance that alcohol would have loosened her inhibitions and her lips and he might finally get some of the truth out of her.

'I don't' she said slowly, clearly having trouble articulating every syllable that she spoke 'today is an exception' she continued, slurring her words only slightly before finishing with a sad hiccup.

'Lets get you out of here' he muttered under his breath, spotting his escape route and starting to half drag her towards it, leaning her against him and feeling her head loll against his shoulder as she lost the ability to hold it upright. Apparently she was more drunk than she first appeared which was worrying because at first glance, she seemed virtually paralytic.

'Is she?' Leah was at his elbow, glaring at Connie who looked away with great difficulty and started to drag Ric towards the front door, stumbling with every step, clearly not in the mood for a confrontation about her alcohol consumption.

'Yes, she is' he nodded with a barely stifled sigh 'I'll talk to her about it in the morning. She's in no state for that particular conversation now'

'See that you do' Leah nodded 'she'll deny that she was all that drunk but don't let that put you off. She needs to be told'

'Thanks' he nodded, forcing Connie out of the front door before any stray aged relatives noticed the commotion that she was creating, resenting her step mother giving Ric any kind of advice on how to handle her. He knew how she felt – probably about as wretched as he had felt when he overheard Diane and Jess discussing ways of removing temptation from his way, including cutting up his debit card and locking him in Diane's computer-free flat on his days off. They hadn't intended for him to hear them but strangely it had probably done him a favour, making it clear just how much he was hurting the people he loved. That day, gambling lost some of its joy because it always carried a residue of guilt that made every loss a greater loss and tainted every win.

'Tell her I'll call her' Leah nodded towards Connie who had apparently gained a burst of energy and was wrestling with renewed vigour in Ric's arms, struggling to make her escape and doubtless, run to the nearest pub to get even more drunk 'I'd tell her myself but she won't remember in the morning'

'It's been nice meeting you' he nodded, laying Connie along the back seat and gratefully taking the waste paper bin that Leah held out, placing it beside her mouth. He suspected that if she threw up all over her own upholstery it would be his fault for not safeguarding against such circumstance rather than her own fault for getting this drunk in the first place.

'Likewise' Leah nodded and retreated into the house, taking a last look back at her stepdaughter who had fallen into a drunken slumber the moment that her head hit the car seat, knowing that she would probably never see her again.