The Family (34 page)

Chapter One Hundred and Four

    Phillip was dressed in a dark suit and a pristine white shirt. He looked good and he knew it; he had been collecting admiring glances from women all day, and he had been enjoying them.

    As he turned into the driveway of Billy Bantry's house, he was smiling and happy. He was relieved that Christine was away; after the news from the doctors that she'd taken Ketamine and losing the baby, he knew it was in their best interests to put some distance between them. But, as he told himself, she was a piss-head, and piss-heads weren't rational human beings. They were idiots who allowed a substance to rule their lives. So he had to find it in his heart to forgive her for fucking up his baby. His little child, a girl he reckoned. He would have liked a daughter, all men should have a daughter. The child was already dead inside her, didn't have a chance at life.

    As he pulled up outside Billy's house he wondered why he still lived so modestly, but that was Billy for you, always frightened to spend a pound. The old joke about Billy was that the fucking Queen herself came to the opening of his wallet. He was one mean ponce.

    He waited until Billy came out of the house and jumped into the passenger seat beside him.

    'All right, Phillip?'

    Phillip nodded and grinned. 'Course I am, I'm always good.'

    It was a statement, and he wholeheartedly believed it. Billy

    Bantry was used to Phillip talking this kind of shite, it went over his head like a giraffe's fart.

    'Where we off to?'

    Phillip grinned, it never ceased to amaze him that people were so trusting, he would lay money this fucking ice cream wasn't even tooled up. He was dealing with retards, had been for years, so no wonder he had tucked them up so easily. 'I thought we'd go to mine, Bill. It's quiet there.'

    Billy nodded agreeably; he loved Phillip's farm, and always left with a bag of good meat and veg. Phillip Murphy was a lot of things, but mean wasn't one of them. 'Where's Declan today, then?'

    Phillip shrugged. 'Busy. You know him - like Breda, if they ain't got a problem they think they're hard done by.'

    Billy laughed out loud at the truth of the statement, but he had heard a whisper that all wasn't well these days in the Murphy camp. Of course, Phillip's wife had been carted off again, so that had to hurt. She was mad as a fucking hatter, and who wouldn't be, married to this bloke? That was some of the gossip from the women in their lives; women saw more than men, it was a natural thing inherited from their mothers. Personally, he thought it was so they could all grow up to be perfect mother-in-laws, ferreting out information. His old woman knew far more than he did about the home lives of men he had known all his life. Women talked, that's why a wise man never told his old woman anything of importance. They couldn't keep it to themselves, it was a genetic compulsion with them. You only had to look at a woman's phone bill, and that told you all you needed to know.

    'So what do you think about the new moves on Piper's part, Phillip?'

    Phillip didn't answer him, instead he changed the subject quickly, saying, 'What are you doing on Saturday night? I was thinking about getting the boys together for a drink up at one of the clubs. It's been ages since we all had a boys' night out, and I want to introduce my lads round, you know.'

    Billy nodded enthusiastically, he loved a good piss-up. 'Sounds good. Where and when?'

    Phillip laughed at Billy's obvious pleasure; he was all the happier because as always Phillip would make sure no one spent a penny. As they turned into the farm Phillip felt a thrill as he surveyed what he owned; the vastness of his land, and the beauty of his surroundings. No one could touch him, no one. As everyone was going to find out very soon.

Chapter One Hundred and Five

    Breda felt sad, but she knew she had to try and cheer herself up for her sister-in-law's sake. Her mother, as always, looked uncomfortable - mental hospitals did that to her. But this place was lovely, cost a fortune by all accounts. She hadn't seen Christine for two weeks and she was a bit nervous.

    As she and Veronica sat outside in the beautiful landscaped gardens smoking cigarettes and drinking expensive coffee, they were both shocked when Christine finally walked out of the doorway. She looked like an anorexic and, with her lovely hair scraped back and her face devoid of make-up, older than usual. She resembled someone recovering from a serious illness which, in a way, Breda supposed she was.

    'Hello, darling, how are you?' Breda's voice sounded forced even to her own ears.

    Veronica didn't say a word she was so shocked at her daughter- in-law's appearance. She looked like the walking dead.

    Christine didn't answer at first. She sat at the ornamental metal table and, lighting a cigarette, pulled on it deeply. As she blew out the smoke she said forcefully, in a loud jovial voice that seemed incongruous coming from her slight frame, 'Well, this is nice, isn't it?'

Chapter One Hundred and Six

    'You're doing well, young Timmy.'

    Ted was thrilled with his new assistant and only too glad to be rid of Philly. He had the call of the clout, as they referred to young men chasing sex on this estate. Timmy wasn't there yet, but Ted was sure it would come. He watched the boy as he lifted the heavy packs of beans and peas. He had to admit it was nice having all the manual work done for him. When young Timmy had earned what his father deemed his apprenticeship he was going to get himself a lad in full-time; it certainly made life easier, and he had to admit he wasn't getting any younger.

    'You going to see me mum, Granddad? She's looking much better.'

    Ted Booth shook his head and said quietly, 'I'll go in a few weeks. Your nana goes a couple of times a week but, to be honest, it upsets me too much. Seeing her in there…' He wondered if he had said too much, but this young lad had the knack of getting you to talk without thinking. He was so truthful and open, it encouraged you to be the same. He was a nice boy.

    Timmy picked up on his granddad's fears and said in agreement, 'I know what you mean, but it's quite a nice place, and she seems better, but still very sad. It's funny, you know, Granddad, but I realise now she was always sad. I think that's why she drank and that. But she's sober now, and they are getting her off the meds as well. So that's something, I suppose.'

    The shop's electric doors opened and Tiffany White's two brothers came into the small supermarket. The elder of the two, Joey, had just come out from doing a five. He was a big lad, well, man now, and he had the look of a newly released prisoner. He still had the pallor peculiar to them - a combination of cheap processed food and lack of sunlight. As he walked in, Ted knew then and there that it wasn't for a pack of Samson tobacco.

    'What can I get you, boys?' Ted was determined not to show his fear; he knew that on this estate it was the most foolish thing you could do. Like animals, boys like these fed off fear, nervousness and intimidation. It seemed that this lad had come out of the stir like many before him, believing he was now what was termed a Face. Oh, the stupidity of youth and incarceration. Phillip Murphy would swat him like an annoying insect. But Ted understood the boy felt he had to restore family honour, though what honour the Whites had he wasn't sure.

    'You can get me fuck-all, old man. I want to know where Phillip Murphy the younger is now residing, because he ain't fucking working here no more, is he?'

    Timmy watched it all in fascination. He was a big lad, and he knew he could handle himself, but these two had the advantage of being incredibly angry. It was emanating off them in waves, so strong you could almost feel the force of it.

    'I don't know where he is and, if you want my advice, I'd drop this now, Joey. Philly and your sister had a fling. It happens so get over it, son. I'm sure she has.'

    Joey stepped towards Ted and, as he did, straightened his arm, and a long steel rod that he had hidden up his sleeve slipped down into his hand. The younger brother, Duane, walked to the doors as if standing guard, which of course he was. They must have already warned people off. It had been very quiet all morning, so this was a well-planned operation, which told Ted it would not be resolved with words. He wondered if the cosh was for him or the premises.

    'Don't do something you'll regret, Joey. Take Duane and go, and I won't say a word to my son-in-law about any of it.'

    The mention of Phillip Murphy did give Joey cause for a moment's hesitation, but he was there on a mission, and he wasn't going to back down now. Especially as he had already told his friends and family what he was going to do. In effect he had painted himself into a very tight corner. His sister was in bits, she had thought she'd got herself fucked and financed, instead she had nothing of value left. He didn't know about the money, of course, all he knew was she had been used and dumped. Now that was something he couldn't ignore, irrespective of what Phillip Murphy might be capable of. This was a family matter now, about family honour and pride. For all she was, Tiffany was still his little sister and she needed his protection. He decided to take the old boy out, and his fucking shop and all. These people had been earning off everyone for far too long, and a lot of the people round the area were sick of it.

    As he raised the cosh and walked towards Ted, young Timmy took him out with a tin of beans. He crashed the tin into the back of Joey's head twice, felling him where he stood. Then, as Duane rushed over, he took his fist back, and knocked him out with one well-placed punch. As Duane hit the ground, Timmy started to kick them both, using all the force he could muster, shouting as loud as he could, 'You fucking scum, threaten an old man, my granddad! You're fucking dead… I'll kill you!'

    As Ted watched in amazement and shock it occurred to him that Timmy was more his father's son than any of them had thought.

Chapter One Hundred and Seven

    The farm was empty of people and, as they walked around it, Billy was, as always, impressed despite himself. It was some place. Phillip walked around in his designer wellies and his walking stick like an old-time lord of the manor. It was funny though, somehow it suited him. Phillip did not look as ridiculous as he should have. And, in fairness, he had a lot to be proud of. This place was like a poster for how a farm should be run, it was cleaner than most people's front rooms. The piggery was state- of-the-art, and the pigs were like, well, pigs in shit, Billy supposed. You could see the affection they had for Phillip, and you could also see it was reciprocated. In fact, Phillip got on better with dumb animals than he did with people. As they walked to the top field Billy was feeling just how out of condition he was, and when they finally went into the large barn for shelter, he was secretly relieved at the prospect of a breather.

    'See that tractor there? It's a John Deere, best on the market that is,' Phillip couldn't resist bragging.

    Billy admired it, as any man admired something you could drive. It was a lovely piece of machinery, and it still looked showroom new. 'It looks it and all, Phillip. This place is fantastic, you're like a regular Farmer Giles!'

    Phillip laughed with him and, sitting on a bale of hay, he took out a small hip flask. It was his wife's and, taking a long pull, he passed it to Billy, who did the same. Then Billy took out his cigarettes but, snatching them from him, Phillip said angrily, 'You can't fucking smoke in here! Look around you. This place would go up in a minute.'

    Billy shook his head at his obvious stupidity. 'Sorry, mate. That's why you're the farmer and I ain't.'

    Phillip put the cigarettes into the pocket of his coat, not trusting Billy Bantry to remember the warning.

    'So, come on then, what did you bring me all the way here for? I'm assuming it's something important to do with the businesses.'

    Phillip chuckled. 'No flies on you, eh, Bill?'

    Then, leaning back on the bale of hay, Phillip picked up a large sabre which he had bought at a house auction. It had apparently been used in the Boer War. Seeing it, Billy's eyes widened in alarm. Shaking his head, he said incredulously, 'You've got to be joking, Phillip?'

    Phillip was standing over Billy now and, smiling chillingly, he said, 'I would never joke about something this serious.'

    'But why, Phillip, why are you doing this?' It was a serious question, and Billy was genuinely interested in the answer.

    'Because you and Piper took me for a cunt. But mainly, Billy, if I'm really honest about it, because I
can.''

Chapter One Hundred and Eight

    'Here he comes, the hero of the hour!'

    Timmy walked into the nightclub with a sheepish grin on his face. He was aware that what had happened was the main topic of conversation for everyone around him.

    'Come here, son! Is this a chip off the old block or what, eh?'

    As Phillip put his huge arms around him, Timmy realised they were pretty much of a size now. Another year or two and he would probably outweigh his father. He saw his brother beaming at everyone; full of pride and pleasure at his little brother's actions. Though 'little brother' wasn't the case any more, he was at least two inches taller than Philly now, and he was much broader. Since the debacle in the shop Timmy had become aware of himself in a way he had never been before. He was what would be termed by the men in this club as a lump. A big, strong lad, he was being treated with respect now. Since taking out the Whites he was like a local hero. People came into his granddad's shop and almost bowed to him if he acknowledged their presence. It was all heady stuff and, he had to admit, he was relishing it. Even the Filth had not bothered - just asked him if he was all right, and put it down as an attempted robbery gone wrong.

    His actions had actually surprised him. Seeing his granddad being threatened like that had flicked a switch in his head. His granddad was like his mum, he didn't really know how to cope in the world he had found himself in. Timmy understood that on a very basic level, because he had thought he was the same. But he
wasn't,
he was like his name, he was a Murphy through and through. Accepting it felt like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He knew who he was, and what he was now.

    Phillip Murphy watched his two sons with pure pride and the conviction that he had done a marvellous job with them. Poor Christine might be away, but she was on the mend, and his boys were showing the world they were worthy successors to their father. He was so proud he could burst, and taking out that ponce Bantry was just the icing on the cake. Laughing and joking with everyone, he caught sight of Piper surreptitiously watching the door for his little mate Bantry to arrive. He was tempted to tell him that he wasn't coming, that he was burning away at this very moment, his ash soon to be spread on the fields as potash. But he didn't - there was plenty of time for chatting when the time was right. Let them start worrying and wondering, he wasn't going to tell anyone anything until he was good and ready.

    Declan had arrived back from his break in Marbella earlier in the day; he was lightly tanned and impressed with what he had found out about the euro situation. A business that would now be wholly theirs, given the untimely demise of their business partners. All in all he was a happy man; once he had tied up a few loose ends, he would be back to his usual self.

    Life was looking up, and he decided to make the most of it.