The Family (16 page)

Read The Family Online

Authors: Martina Cole

Tags: #Fiction, #Crime, #General, #Mystery & Detective

BOOK: The Family
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Chapter Forty-Three

    'Fuck me, Phillip, you scared the life out of me creeping in like a fucking burglar!'

    Phil Senior had turned and seen his son standing in the kitchen doorway, and it had given him a serious fright.

    Phillip grinned, and his father was relieved to see he looked more or less back to normal. 'Sorry, mate, any chance of a cup of tea?'

    Phil Senior was already putting the kettle on, pleased his son was back and even more pleased to see him acting normally. Phillip could be the proverbial handful, but he was a good boy for ail that, he just needed to be handled gently; if you respected his nature you were all right.

    'Where's Breda?'

    Phil Senior looked at his son now and, sighing, he said gently, 'Not again, Phillip. She's took it on the chin, she's been waiting to see you, but think of your mother…'

    Phillip chuckled. 'She upstairs?' He walked out to the hallway calling loudly, 'Come down, Bred, Dad's making a cup of tea.' He sounded jovial, full of the joys of spring. It was as if nothing had happened. Phil Senior made the tea happily now; the storm was over, for the time being anyway.

    Breda came down slowly and, as she walked into the kitchen and faced her brother, she was white-faced with fear. Phillip looked at her for a long moment, as if appraising her, then, opening his arms widely, he said in a choked voice, 'Come here,

    Breda. Fucking hell, girl, what the fuck has that Jamsie caused us..

    He was being magnanimous, the big man, he was all forgiving, all loving. This was benevolent Phillip; she had experienced this man before, it meant he was over his ire, he was going to let it all go. Basically she knew she was safe, and that meant the world to her. This was Phillip at his best, this was the Phillip she loved more than anyone else in the world, even her own child. She went into his arms without hesitation. She was so relieved she started to sob, her whole body shaking with the intensity of her emotions.

    Phillip held her to him tightly, as if protecting her from harm. She could smell the particular smell he had - a mixture of healthy sweat and expensive aftershave. It was unique to him and, at times like this, it made her feel safe, made her feel needed, wanted. Cared for. She was still part of the family, and that meant more to her than anything.

    'I've seen that treacherous cunt Jamsie, and put the hard word on him. I appreciate you were only doing what you thought was right, Bred. I see that now.' He pulled her away from him and looked deep into her eyes as he said seriously, 'You caused me a lot of fucking hag, but I forgive you. You thought you were doing good and I see that now. I've smoothed over the Filth and sorted out everything. We'll talk no more about it. But, in future, you don't ever take anything like that on yourself again, do you understand me?'

    She was nodding furiously now. 'I'm so sorry, Phil, I lost it a bit… I didn't think it through…'

    Phillip smiled and hugged her. 'You were doing what you thought was right, and I appreciate your loyalty to me and the family. As will Declan when I tell him. You are a fucking diamond, Breda - a bit quick off the mark, but a diamond all the same.'

    Phil Senior poured the tea, filled with relief. It was over,

    Phillip had decided he would allow his sister to carry on in the family business. Phillip wasn't a fool, she was a grafter old Breda, they all knew that. He was just relieved it was over. He wasn't too worried about Jamsie - he would have to swallow whatever came his way now - he had asked for it, and he had got it. He was on his own now.

    'Where's the little fella? Go and get him, I ain't seen him for ages. Any cake to go with that tea, Dad? I'm fucking starving…'

    Breda went upstairs to get her son, she could feel her legs buckling underneath her with the relief. As she picked up her son and hugged him to her, she thanked God that she had escaped her brother's wrath, and she swore that from now on she would never take him or his moods for granted again. It was all about Phillip now, and that suited her down to the ground. She had come close to losing everything, and she was not about to make that mistake again. As for Jamsie, he had made his bed, he had better get used to lying in it. Now that Phillip had blanked him, he was as good as a dead man. No one in their right mind would give him the time of day without Phillip's say- so. Jamsie was out, and she was back in; life was suddenly good again.

Chapter Forty-Four

 

    'He'll be here soon, Christine, go and tidy yourself up, child.'

    Since the call from her husband, Veronica had been like a young girl. Phillip was back home, happy as a sandboy, so all was right with the world. Christine actually found that even more unnerving than anything else, if she was honest. They seemed to think that because Phillip was happy that was enough. No one appeared to take onboard what he had done, what had happened that night, as if his behaviour didn't warrant discussion.

    Veronica looked at the troubled countenance of her daughter- in-law and her heart went out to her. She understood how hard this had been for her, but Christine was going to have to learn how to tackle this husband of hers the hard way. Because he was not going to change, and she needed to accept that.

    'Look, Christine, I love you like me own, but you have to understand that Phillip… well, he's not like other people.'

    Christine laughed derisively then. 'You don't say! I would never have worked that one out for myself.'

    Veronica immediately felt worried. Christine was about to make the mistake of a lifetime, and she had literally thirty minutes to get her into a different frame of mind. Phillip would not tolerate any kind of criticism, especially not from his wife. If he loved anyone, it was this girl. Her questioning him while he was vulnerable would only set him off again. If Christine would just use her loaf, she could have the life that most young women dreamed about. Veronica knew it was time to get tough.

    'Listen to me, Christine, and listen good. When my Phillip walks through that door, you smile and you looked pleased to see him - act like you were worried something had happened to him.
Do not
, and I repeat,
do not
ask him where he's been for the last five days. Do not question him about anything. When he's like this, it is all about him. You feed him, you love him, and you accept whatever he tells you without any kind of questioning. That is the main thing here - you ask him nothing. Now, I know how this sounds, darling, but believe me, if you
do
question him, you really won't want to know the answers. I've lived with this side of him since he was old enough to crawl. He's strange, but he's still a good man, and he loves you. He adores you. But for all that, if you push him, he'll retaliate, and I know what I'm saying when I tell you you do
not
want that in your life.'

    Christine was staring at her mother-in-law; she knew the woman was deadly serious, that Veronica thought she should hear all this about her husband and would meekly agree with her and her home diagnosis about the lunatic she had given birth to.

    'Strange? He's strange you say? I mustn't question him, so what exactly am I to do, then? Come on, Veronica, I'm fascinated now.'

    Veronica closed her eyes tightly, and shook her head in sheer desperation. 'He's your husband and there'll be no divorce, he won't countenance that - you know it, and I know it. What you do now, darling, is what many a woman has done before you. You learn how to live a good life, you learn how to overlook his foibles, and make the best of what you've got. Look at me - I married a fucking waster, but he's my husband, and I made a life as best I could.' She grabbed Christine's hands in hers then and, pulling them to her chest, she said sadly, 'Listen, Chris. People like my Phillip can't cope with being crossed in any way. When he's like this you
have
to humour him. These episodes don't last long, and it's been years since he had one. He'll feel bad that you witnessed it. You have to act like you don't care about it all. You have to pretend that everything's fine. You don't want him fretting, and you certainly don't want him going off again. Think of the boys, think about your lovely life - and you have got a lovely life, darling. Look around you at your home, at how well you're doing, how well you two are doing together. When he comes in, you treat him like visiting royalty. I promise you, that's how you cope with Phillip's nature.'

    'But he frightens me… I'm frightened of him…'

    Veronica could see the terror in her daughter-in-law's face, and her heart genuinely went out to her, but she also knew that this was not something the girl could show her husband. He wouldn't be able to cope with it.

    'And so he should! You wouldn't be human if you didn't feel afraid. But I'm trying to tell you, darling, you
have
to act like you're not scared of him. He needs you to try and understand him now, and that's what you are going to do.'

    They heard the car pull up on the drive and Veronica hugged the girl to her tightly. 'Now, remember what I said and take my lead, OK?'

    Christine nodded, her heart hammering in her chest; she felt almost faint at the thought of facing him. It felt as if she was about to welcome an axe murderer into her home and, in many ways, that was exactly what she was doing.

    The front door opened and his voice boomed out towards them. 'Where are my best girls, eh?' His voice was full of fun, sounded so natural and happy. Veronica winked at her then, and Christine could see the relief on her face.

    'The wanderer returns! Come away in, son, and let us get a look at you.'

    Christine couldn't believe how relaxed Veronica's voice sounded. It was as if she had forgotten everything that had happened. It was so surreal that Christine wondered briefly if she was caught in a waking nightmare.

    Then Phillip was there, in the room with them and she could hear the boys making their way to their father from the playroom. She wanted to run - pick the boys up, and leave the house, but she knew that wasn't an option. Phillip looked wonderful, he was clean, smartly dressed, his hair was freshly cut. He had his handsome smile turned on full beam, and she knew this was a definitive moment in her young life.

    'She's been worried out of her mind, Phil, but I told her you had a lot of things to sort out. There's a chicken casserole in the oven - I'll serve it up, while you two get reacquainted.'

    Veronica bustled from the room, taking the boys with her. It didn't escape Christine's notice that Phillip had ignored the boys, he was concentrating on her, and her alone. She was amazed to realise that she was crying, the tears rolling freely down her lovely face.

    Phillip went to her and, as he put his hand out, she felt herself flinch. She saw the horror on his face at her reaction and, looking into his eyes, she said brokenly, 'Oh, Phil, I was so scared something had happened…'

    It was the right approach, he shook his head slowly and, taking her in his arms, he enveloped her in a hug that almost took the breath from her body.

    'Oh, darling Christine, I'm sorry, babe. I had a lot of things to sort out. I didn't want to bring any of it here, into our home. I knew my mother would take care of you.'

    He pulled her away from him and kissed her deeply on the lips. She could feel his tongue sliding into her mouth, and had to stifle the urge to gag. Pulling his face noisily away from hers, he looked at her seriously. 'Don't ever be frightened of me, Christine, I could never hurt you, babe. Outside in the real world, I have to be a different person to survive. But in here, in our world, it will always just be us.'

    She knew somehow that it was a veiled threat, but following her mother-in-law's lead she forced herself to smile at him. 'I'm just glad you're home safe and sound, Phil.'

    Then the tears began again, and he held her and comforted her until eventually she calmed down.

 

    

Book Two

Tell me what company you keep and I'll tell you what you are

Miguel de Cervantes (1547-1616) Spanish adventurer, author and poet

 

Man, biologically considered, and whatever else he may be into the bargain, is simply the most formidable of all the beasts of prey and, indeed, the only one that preys systematically on its own species

William James (1842-1910) American philosopher

Chapter Forty-Five

1998

    'Come on, boys, it's time we got going.'

    Christine smoothed some lipstick on her lips, as she hunted for the keys to the Range Rover. She could feel Phillip's eyes on her and, turning, she smiled at him. 'All right?'

    He answered her truthfully, 'Very, especially as you seem a lot better in yourself, mate. Are the new tablets any good?'

    She nodded. 'I feel much better inside meself, Phil. It's like the doctor says, depression is an illness, and it can happen to anyone at any time so, like any illness, I have to get it treated. But these new pills make me feel a million dollars.' She was telling him what he wanted to hear, she always told him what he wanted to hear. For years she had lived beside a man she was terrified of, and the fact that he treated her like a queen just made it all feel worse.

    'Well, don't forget tonight we've got Ricky Thomas and his wife coming to dinner. I have a bit of business with him. Are you sure you'll be OK? We can get a chef in, or me mother will cook for us.'

    She laughed then. 'I've got it all in hand, Phil. We're having crab cakes to start, roast lamb for the main, and I've already knocked up a lemon posset for dessert. Lastly, we've got a fuck- off cheese board for the wine and brandy. I'll be fine - I love cooking, it relaxes me.'

    He grinned, relieved that she wasn't under any undue pressure. 'Well, you're a blinding cook, sweetheart. How lucky was I, eh? Beautiful, clever and a wonderful wife. Fantastic mother, and still the only woman who interests me.'

    She turned away from him then, unable to look him in the face. When he spoke like that all it did was make her panic inside. She felt as though he was constantly reminding her she was his.

    Philly came into the kitchen; at thirteen he was already big for his age, and he had the dark hair and the blue eyes of his father.

    'All right, Dad? Can I come to the arcade again this weekend?'

    Phillip smiled. ' 'Course you can, you can work the change booth for me. At least I know I can trust you!' They laughed easily together.

    Just then her younger son wandered in to the room. Philly and Timmy were so similar they were like twins born a few years apart and it was uncanny how like Phillip they were - she saw nothing of herself in them. Little Timmy was quieter than his brother though; they all joked that he was deep waters, but, if she was honest, she worried that he seemed to have a bit too much of Phillip's nature in him. Philly had a temper too, but it was quick to flare and just as quick to die out. Timmy, on the other hand, had a temper that was phenomenal in its intensity. She had been forced to remove him from his first playgroup over it - he fought the other kids like a tiger for almost no reasons at all.

    'Come on, you two, get in the Range, and no arguing who sits where, OK? Mummy has to have peace and quiet while she's concentrating on her driving, so don't let me hear any fucking stories today about you two rowing, and I mean it.'

    Both boys nodded; when Phillip swore they knew he meant business.

    'See you later, Dad.'

    Christine ushered them from the house and, as she pulled out of the electric gates, she saw Declan on his way in. He waved at her, and she automatically waved back. She liked Declan; he had been good to her over the years, and she had come to rely on him. He was the voice of reason, and strangely Phillip listened to him and respected what he said. These days Declan was the only person on the planet who her husband listened to. Somehow he kept Phillip from going overboard, and for that alone she would be eternally grateful.

    

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