Revenge (24 page)

Chapter Sixty

Josephine lay in the hospital bed, tired and sore, but also elated. She watched her little daughter as she slept in the Perspex crib beside her bed, fascinated by each breath and each snuffle. She was still worried that this was all a dream, and she would wake up in her own bed, covered in sweat and silently crying into her pillow.

She looked down at her body; already her belly had gone down – she didn’t look like she had just given birth. She had laughed about it with the midwife, and another new mum who had popped her head around the door asking if it was OK to come in and say hello. She had really loved that. Talking babies with another mum was something she had never thought she would ever do. It was so natural, and they had chatted together for ages. Then she had fed her little Jessica – already she was Jessie, Michael had seen to that. Her mother had never allowed her name to be shortened – she was Josephine, never Jo. Yet she had already accepted Jessie for her daughter; it suited her somehow, she looked like a Jessie.

Even Hannah had not been able to ruin this day for her. Unlike her mother and father who had held the baby, cooed to her, and shared in her first few hours in the world, Hannah had refused the offer to hold her grandchild, and she had left without even saying goodbye. Michael had not even noticed his mother’s absence; he was as besotted with Jessie as she was. He just gazed at his new daughter with complete and absolute awe. She was a lovely child already; she had been born pink and creamy, not even any blood or vernix on her. She could see herself in her daughter’s features. Her mum had said Josephine had been
her
double, the image of her as a baby, and she was going to bring in the pictures to prove it. Michael was so dark, Josephine had thought the child would resemble him, dark-haired and apple-cheeked. But she wasn’t – she was fair-skinned, and honey-blond, just like her mum.

Josephine knew she should try to sleep – she was whacked out – but it was impossible. She wanted this day to last for ever. It was the best day of her whole life. She felt truly alive for the first time in years. Michael had been so good, pretending he didn’t care if they had children or not, but she believed, deep inside, that he
did
care. She hugged herself with glee. She was finally a mother, she was someone’s mum, and that felt so good. She looked at her little daughter, lying there so defenceless, so vulnerable, and she whispered softly, ‘I promise you, my little Jessie Flynn, that I will never let you down. If you need me I will always be there for you.’ She meant every word. It never occurred to her that sometimes you couldn’t protect your children, no matter how much you might want to. Life just didn’t work like that.

Chapter Sixty-One

Michael took a deep breath, and counted to five slowly in his head. Josephine was feeding little Jessie, and he had walked into his kitchen, barefoot, in only his boxer shorts, gasping for a cup of coffee, and stubbed his toe on a new pile of boxes that seemed to have appeared overnight. He had hopped around in agony, while cursing under his breath.

Instead of laughing as expected, Josephine had deliberately ignored his pain. He had hoped that now she had a baby to care for the bulk buying would stop. He had always thought her need to buy so much was because of her failure to have a child of her own. He had ignored it, telling himself that if it made her happy then that was enough. But now it was starting to annoy him. In the last six months, she had got worse not better. He glanced quickly at the boxes as he sipped his coffee. More fucking food – like they didn’t have enough already! Twenty-four tins to the case, and there were five cases. Two were full of baked beans, one was spaghetti, and the other two were chilli con carne of all things. She cooked wonderful food for them – they rarely opened a tin of anything. It was getting beyond a joke.

He sat down, and smiled at his wife and daughter. Little Jessie pushed her bottle away, and gave him a huge gummy smile. She was absolutely gorgeous, there was no doubting that. Her eyes were a deep blue and framed by long, dark eyelashes. Everyone commented on her eyes – even complete strangers, they were that remarkable. She seemed to look into your soul, she peered so intently. Even his mother had eventually succumbed to her charms.

‘Morning, my darling.’

She started to crow at him, grinning and grabbing her own feet, and he laughed as Josephine tried to get her to finish her bottle. He kissed his wife on the forehead gently. ‘Morning, my other darling.’

Josephine smiled at him, but she could sense his frustration, and she hated it. She knew that, on one level, he had a point about her buying, but it wasn’t as if they couldn’t afford it. Possessing the things that she purchased made her feel secure somehow. It had started so long ago, it was normal for her now. And if things were on special offer, she just saw it as a way of saving money.

‘She is looking happy enough.’

Josephine grinned. ‘She’s already had her breakfast. She loves her food, Michael.’

He felt his heart constrict with his love for her. If only she would admit that her compulsive buying was getting out of hand. The house they lived in was huge by anyone’s standards, but she was gradually filling it up with more and more boxes of food, talcum powder, even bloody dried milk. She bought stuff they would never even use, like the tins of chilli con carne, and the boxes of dried fruits. It was completely without logic. If they lived to be a hundred, they could never use it all. In the spare bedroom, she had piled up box after box of cereals, every kind. Big packs that were all out of date, along with tins of tuna and tins of pilchards.

‘She’ll need a big appetite won’t she, Josephine? There is more cereal in this house than in fucking Tesco.’

He saw the hurt on his wife’s face and immediately felt bad, as though he was in the wrong. Her eyes were filling up with tears, and he sighed. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, Josephine, but surely you can see that this is getting out of hand? Look around you, darling. This place is like a fucking warehouse. We don’t even eat any of it. I tried to use a tin of beans the other week and you nearly bit my head off.’

Josephine rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘There were tins in the cupboard. You didn’t need to open the case up. I explained that to you.’

He picked up his daughter, pulling her from his wife’s lap. ‘Listen to what you’re saying, Josephine. Who gives a flying fuck where a tin of beans comes from, I ask you? And, as we have more beans in this house than a fucking army canteen, I would have thought you’d have welcomed someone actually
eating
the fuckers. They aren’t ornaments, are they?’

Josephine was nearly in tears now. He forced himself to lower his voice, calm down. ‘I’ve got a couple of lads coming round today. They are going to move all the boxes into the garages, OK? I want this place clear when I get home tonight. It’s not a fucking depot, all right? It’s our home.’

She didn’t answer him, just looked at him with those huge pained eyes.

‘I’m sorry, darling, but it’s arranged now.’ He stood up, playing with his little daughter, determined not to look at his wife and cave in as per usual. This time the house was being cleared, he was going to make sure of that. One of the rooms off the kitchen was a spacious old-fashioned larder. There were over sixty jars of jam on the shelves, forty jars of honey and, more worryingly, he had counted thirty-two tin openers in one of the drawers. Everywhere he looked, there was evidence of her hoarding, and it scared him more than he liked to admit. It wasn’t normal. He had seen her wiping the tins over with a damp cloth, and placing them back into the boxes they had arrived in. Who the fuck did things like that? He had to put his foot down. They had a child to look out for now. She needed to start getting with the program. He had hoped that her finally having a baby would have sorted out her eccentricities, but instead it seemed to have exacerbated them. He loved her more than life itself, but he knew that things were not right.

‘She’s getting to be a right lump, isn’t she?’

Josephine nodded. ‘She is. Like I said, she loves her grub.’

‘Well, she won’t fucking starve in this house, will she?’ He laughed as he spoke, trying to lighten the mood, but Josephine didn’t react in any way at all.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Declan was extremely irritated – almost fuming, in fact – and that was a very unusual occurrence for him. He was a man who rarely let anything throw him off kilter. He saw that as a weakness, a character flaw – not that he had ever said that out loud. His brother and Michael were his polar opposite in that respect. Chasing the dollar was why people like them got up in the morning.

Well, he liked the world he had created for himself. He ran a good business, and he ran it very well. Declan believed wholeheartedly that he had more than enough for his needs. He earned a good wedge, he had shagged more women than he could shake a tenner at, and he genuinely liked his life. He didn’t want marriage or children really. He was happy enough playing the eternal bachelor. What he didn’t like was discord, especially among the ranks. He was very easy going, but the people who worked for him knew that, if they pushed their luck, he was capable of great vengeance if the need should arise.

But now Michael Flynn needed a serious fucking talking to and he was going to give it to him, please or offend. This should never have been allowed to go so far, and Michael knew that better than anyone. It took a lot to make Declan angry but, when he finally succumbed to anger, he could be a very dangerous individual. Michael would do well to remember that.

He glanced at his watch. Michael was already over an hour late, and that added to his irritation. Tardiness was the greatest insult of them all; arrangements were made to suit those concerned – it was the height of rudeness to overlook other people’s needs.

He heard Michael arrive; he hailed people as always with his usual bonhomie and smiling face, but Declan knew Michael Flynn was not the amiable, hail-fellow-well-met cunt that he pretended to be. He was a vicious fucker, who could pass in company as a well-heeled, well-dressed businessman. And that was fine, so long as he remembered that, while he had been playing happy families for the last six months, he had inadvertently dropped the proverbial ball. He had a fucking seriously damaging break in his ranks, and it needed to be addressed sooner rather than later.

Josephine’s problems were common knowledge and as much as everyone felt for him – after all, no one wanted a fucking nutbag on the team – Michael needed to remember the golden rule: family life came second to everything else.

As Michael made his entrance into the office, it took all of Declan Costello’s willpower to stop himself from smacking him one. If ever a man needed to be brought down a peg, Michael Flynn was that man.

Chapter Sixty-Three

Hannah was holding her granddaughter on her lap, amazed at the love she felt for the child. The only other person to ever make her feel such overpowering love had been her son, and where had that got her? But little Jessie had crept into her heart, and now the thought of being parted from her was a real torment. She had even tempered her usual sarcastic remarks, frightened that if she pushed too far the child would be taken beyond her reach.

She could see herself in her, although no one else would admit that. She had her eyes, and her own mother’s cupid bow lips. It was unbelievable really, the child’s hold on her. Hannah adored her, and that was something she had never envisaged.

Hannah watched surreptitiously as Josephine oversaw the removal of her boxes of crap from the house. Not before time either, as far as she was concerned; it was like an obstacle course to get in, and Michael should have put his foot down years ago. She could see the panic in her daughter-in-law’s eyes as the house was gradually emptied of her purchases. Despite herself, she actually felt sorry for the girl. Anyone would think she was being asked to give her family away. For the first time, Hannah realised that her daughter-in-law had a real problem.

‘Come and sit down, Josephine. I’ve hardly spoken to you since I got here!’

Josephine looked at her in distress. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute, Hannah. I just need to make sure that everything is put away properly, where I can find it . . .’

Hannah stood up with the child in her arms, and walked to where her daughter-in-law was standing. She was at the back door and, as she went to follow the young men out to the garage, Hannah grabbed her by the arm.

‘Leave it be. I don’t want to upset you, but you’re acting strange, love. These young men Michael sent here to move everything out of the house can see how strange you’re acting. People talk, love, you know that as well as I do. Don’t give them the opportunity for a story. If not for yourself, then for Michael. He can’t be seen as having any kind of weakness. Now, come and sit down, and I’ll make a fresh pot of tea.’

Josephine knew that the woman was right; she wasn’t acting rationally. She shouldn’t care about what was happening. But it wasn’t that easy. She couldn’t help the way she felt. Watching everything leave the house was like witnessing the death of a loved one. She felt bereft and vulnerable.

Hannah pulled her gently away from the door. ‘Sit down and nurse your baby. I can see how hard this is for you, Josephine, but you have to let it go.’ She passed the child to her daughter-in-law, and watched as her natural maternal instincts took over.

Josephine sat down at the kitchen table and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. Little Jessie was so good-natured, and she thanked God for that much at least. She wasn’t a cross child and rarely cried.

‘She is so contented, Josephine. I’ve never seen such a contented child in all my born days. That is all down to you, and your wonderful mothering.’

It was the right thing to say. Josephine smiled with pleasure at her words, and Hannah Flynn finally understood the reason her son loved this girl so much. She literally didn’t have a bad bone in her body. She felt a moment’s shame at the way she had treated her over the years. She had never given the girl a chance. She had always resented the way she had replaced her in her son’s affections. It was only Jessie’s birth that had softened her up. Now she saw the girl as she really was – a frightened young woman, who needed her kindness and understanding. She was a troubled soul, all right, and she needed help. Her Michael knew that and if Hannah had not been so selfish, so bitter, he would have turned to her for help. Instead he had protected the girl from her, knowing she didn’t have a great opinion of her anyway. For the first time ever, Hannah felt truly guilty.