'Hello, love, you look well. I heard about the car, it's lovely.'
Veronica had never driven in her life, and had literally no interest in cars of any kind. But she knew this was a seriously expensive motor, and she also knew the neighbours would see it; that was her way of enjoying her daughter-in-law's good fortune.
'I love it. How're the arrangements going for the wedding?'
'Good, she's a very nice girl that Linda, and those children are really great kids.'
'I liked her. She gets on well with Breda and all. Even Phillip likes her!'
Veronica laughed with her then. 'I know, and he can be so fucking funny about people and their lifestyles, if you know what I mean.' It was the nearest she would ever get to criticising him, and they both knew it. But Veronica was amazed at her son's acceptance of a girl with four kids by two different men, and never a wedding ring on her finger.
'Jamsie's happy, that's what really matters. At the end of the day it's fuck-all to do with Phillip, isn't it?'
Veronica didn't answer the girl, she wasn't comfortable with this kind of talk about her son. 'Can I get you a cup of tea?'
Christine grinned. 'I'd rather have a drink, to be honest, but it's a bit early even for me! Tea will be fine.'
Veronica bit her lip, but she smiled anyway. 'Don't drink and drive, you know how I worry about you, child.'
Christine hugged the woman with genuine affection, she knew she really did care about her. Now her loving husband, on the other hand… It had occurred to her that the way he let her drink, he must harbour a hope she would wrap the car around a convenient lamp post. Yet she knew in her heart that wasn't true. In his own way he still needed her, whatever it was she had, whatever had attracted him to her in the first place, still kept him by her side. Because if any man had reason to walk out, he did. She knew if she had pushed a normal man like she had pushed him, they would have left long ago. But then he wasn't normal, was he?
She pushed the thoughts from her mind again, she had to stop dwelling on everything. The doctor said she had too much time to think, too much time on her hands. You had to laugh at men, it was all cut and dried for them. They knew nothing.
Veronica placed the teapot on the table and Christine got up and opened the biscuit tin. She ate a couple of digestives noisily – if you ate in this house you were all right. If not, you got a lecture about healthy eating and she wasn't in the mood. Plus, it pleased Veronica to see her eat, not that she ate very much these days. She still cooked, but she never had an appetite for what she produced. She enjoyed seeing the boys eat her food though, it was all they let her do these days, that and their washing and ironing, and the way things were going they wouldn't even need that soon.
'Are you all right, Chris? You were miles away again.'
Christine brought herself back to the present with difficulty; she was losing a lot of time lately, she would sit down and the next thing she knew hours had passed. It was the pills, she blamed everything on the pills. 'I'm fine, just a bit tired. I don't sleep that well, as you know.'
'You've seemed better in yourself lately, love, more lively, like.'
'Feel sick a lot of the time, to be honest. Tired out, and sick.'
Veronica grinned and said mischievously, 'Not pregnant, girl, are you? It's often the late ones that cause the trouble.' Veronica laughed in delight at the idea. She would be thrilled to have a new baby to fuss over.
But a cold hand of fear clutched at Christine's heart. Because she knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that Veronica had identified exactly what was wrong with her. And that couldn't happen, she couldn't have another child. Not by him.
Veronica watched the blood drain from her daughter-in-law's face, and she was saddened that what her generation would have classed as good news was seen as something to fear by this new generation. This girl had money and time, the two things a child needed in life to thrive, yet the prospect of a new life filled this girl with horror. What else had she to do with herself? She had a life that was crying out for some kind of meaning, she did nothing of value from one end of the week to the other, except drink, take her meds and shop. If she didn't have her urge to clean, she would be pissed all day long. For the first time Veronica felt a twinge of resentment for this girl who she knew was not right, not right at all.
'Don't bloody wish that one on me, for Christ's sake!' Christine was trying to make a joke now, but her mind was whirling. If she was pregnant, then no one must ever know about it. Especially not this woman, she would see it as a gift from God. Not what it really was – a punishment from Him. Because there would be no getting rid of it, not in this family anyway. All of them breaking their necks to get to Mass every Sunday, telling themselves it cancelled out their actions in real life. She was suddenly sweating, because she knew as sure as she knew her own name that she was pregnant. She felt too old to be pregnant. By a man she knew would see it as a wonderful event, as something to celebrate, to enjoy. Who would make her stop drinking, make her stop the pills, a man who would see that his child had the best start in life, and whose child would be tainted because it bore his name and his DNA.
Christine left Veronica's as soon as she could and drove for two hours to a chemist where no one knew her, where she bought three pregnancy tests. Starting up the car, her brand- new, lovely car, she contemplated her situation. She was still crying when she got home, but the house was empty and the kitchen was warm. She opened a bottle of Barolo and drank herself into a stupor. She would do the test first thing the next morning.
She was asleep at the kitchen table when Philly came home to change his clothes. He walked by her, his nose turned up in disgust. She was nothing but a drunk, and how his father put up with her he didn't know. He left her there, knowing that Timmy would put her to bed. Personally, he thought she was a disgrace. After changing his clothes he left the house quietly; he was on a promise again, and he couldn't believe his luck. Tiffany White had thighs like a pair of nutcrackers, tits you could lose your whole face in, and she was up for anything, anything at all. She was filthy, and he was loving every second of it.
Chapter Ninety-Six
Phillip was bored out of his brains, and Declan knew that when he was like this he was dangerous. He recognised all the signs – when things went too smoothly Phillip wanted out. He needed to prove that he didn't need anyone. He very quickly gravitated from having a new friend and business partner to convincing himself that the same person was out to take what was his. It was a pattern that repeated itself far too often. Declan would never use the word paranoia out loud, but it was there at the back of his mind nonetheless. Most people were happy when things were going well, didn't feel the urge to stir everything up and cause ructions. But then most people weren't Phillip Murphy.
It occurred to Declan that he was getting fed up with playing the peacemaker all the time. For all his talk, one of the true reasons why he deliberately kept himself from any real relationships was because he needed to keep Phillip on track. It was a real eye-opener when he finally admitted that to himself. Here he was, well into his thirties and still having to pat down a man who was becoming increasingly unstable as the years wore on. Now he had a wife who was off her face, and two kids who were basically being left to do as they pleased. Phillip was ignoring his boys just as he did his wife, and her wants, her needs. Feast or famine as usual – either controlling their every move, or acting as though they didn't exist. Declan loved his brother, he loved all his family, but he was not blind to Phillip's faults and anyone who really knew him was wary of him. Phillip had a kink in his nature that it wasn't wise to ignore; he was dangerous. He could turn on a coin, and no one was immune.