“Should you be laughing with your old man still warm in the grave?” asked Mary.”
“He’s not in the grave, he’s in the mortuary...” Livia then felt the need to put on a show of grief, sniffing, taking a tissue and dabbing her eyes.
“I’m really sorry for your feckin’ crocodile tears, but I’ve seen a few grieving widows and you, sister, ain’t one of them! Knock you about did he?”
‘Wow, this woman’s scary’ thought Livia. ‘What does she know?’ she decided to rely on the non-verbal. She just nodded her reply.
“Bastard! I knew it.” exclaimed Mary.