Ebony wore a blonde wig, a grey hat that fitted perfectly, a soft pink cowl neck jumper, a black wool three quarter coat, dark grey trousers, and black shoes. She had a soft pink handbag over her arm. She looked awesome, and everyone turned to gawk at us when we walked into the chapel. No one who knew Ebony Makepeace would have recognised her. Sherryn Forbes was on my arm.
Mourners occupied every seat in the chapel. They left the front row for the family.
‘I thought you said your father didn’t have many fans,’ Ebony whispered.
‘This way, Mr Culley.’ The funeral director’s smile was sincere, not over the top. Kind, reassuring. She led Ebony and me to the front.
I considered my best friend Sandy to be family. His partner when he was in the police force, Tomy was, too. (Whenever she was i
