The Family

last out. Well, do you know something, bruv? We women are not as different as you all seem to think we are. And that child up there will always mean more to me than any fucking bloke. You lot included. He is my flesh and blood, so fuck the neighbours, and fuck you for your narrow-mindedness. Unlike men, we women know exactly what we have produced, and we do not have to rely on someone else's honesty to convince us of our children's paternity. So, next time you have a go at me about my baby being fatherless, remember this much. I know and he will always know who his mother is, there can never be an argument about that. And he will also know that he was more important to me than my reputation. You see, that's something none of you ever quite got. At fifteen years old, I chose my own flesh and blood over the neighbours and their gossiping. Over you lot, and your fear of what people might think. So anything you have to say to me is pointless. I made a decision against everything you all believed was right.'

'Stop this now, Breda, it's gone far enough,' Veronica interjected, visibly upset.

Breda shook her head again, her lovely face smiling amiably, the hurt she had kept inside for so long hidden, until she said sarcastically, 'Oh, Mum, how did it go when I told you I was pregnant? Oh yeah, I remember, 'get an abortion, no one will ever know, you're ruining your life, no one will ever want you if you have a baby'. And you hammering the door of the church down every Sunday. I nearly swallowed your crap and all. But you see, you never allowed for me and the love I already had for my child. None of you thought about me and what I might want. You had to get married, Mum. I chose not to.'

Breda pushed past her eldest brother, shoving him angrily out of her way. 'I had my baby, I kept my baby, and for you to give me a tug because your little schoolie had to go home to her mum and dad's… I ain't your whipping boy, and you better get your head around that. And now I am going up to settle my little boy, and you can go and fuck yourselves.' She walked from the room then, her back ramrod straight and her animosity almost tangible.

'What the fuck was all that about?' Declan, the middle brother, was genuinely shocked at the night's turn of events.

Veronica Murphy shook her head in despair.

Watching his sister mount the stairs, Phillip looked at his father and said honestly, 'She has a point, I suppose.'

Phillip Murphy Senior looked at his sons and, pushing them gently back into the kitchen, he said loudly, 'Well, that needed to be said. She did a brave thing keeping the child. These days you can flush the poor unfortunates away without a second's thought. If she had done that, sure none of you would have been any the wiser and she would still be like your one there tonight, who ran home to her mammy like a good girl. Can you blame your sister for feeling you all think wrong of her?'

Phillip looked at his eldest son in particular as he spoke, and Phillip Junior knew that his reaction to his sister had not only been uncalled for, but had also been seen for the hypocrisy that it was. He was suitably ashamed.

But Christine's goodness, her family's decent reputation, their standing in the small community they had to live in, had shown him just how other people really perceived them all. He knew that his sister's child had been a slur on the family. It was a stigma to have a child and not be married. It was still seen as a terrible thing. Not for the fathers of course, only the mothers of the children. Their lives were more or less ruined. He understood that Breda was telling him this night, without fear or favour, that her child was not going to be apologised for in any way, shape or form. Especially not to the likes of Christine Booth and her family. Breda had tapped into his fear of what Christine's family might think about his sister having a child out of wedlock. She had implied that his taking up with a fifteen-year-old girl who didn't know her arse from her proverbial elbow was the reason Phillip suddenly looked down on his own sister, on his own flesh and blood.

Phillip knew that Breda had perceived his real feelings towards her. He looked at his two brothers, and saw their sceptical looks. They were as aware as Breda of his worries that her child might affect the Booths' overall opinion of him and his family. Phillip was ashamed of his thoughts, and the fact that he had allowed Eileen Booth and her opinions to cloud his judgement.

But in his favour, he loved Christine with a vengeance. Realistically he knew that his family name alone would be enough for her mother to cause them aggro – on top of everything else, his sister's unmarried state would be another thing Eileen would use against him. Already this young girl had made him turn on his own sister, had made him want to be someone different, someone her family would be happy to welcome. Who her family would see as an asset, not as a liability. Christine was not like the Murphys; she was pure, she was good and decent and that meant the world to him.

Christine had never asked for anything in her whole life, not really, and he so badly wanted to be good enough for her he had nearly allowed himself to betray his own family. The strength of his feelings and what they made him do frightened him; he had never wanted anyone this way before, had never felt that kind of anger before. And it turned out Christine had not even told her family where she was going – that spoke volumes to him. That she had come to his home and lied to her parents about her whereabouts had really offended him, even though he understood the reasoning behind it.

But Phillip was going to get his girl, no matter what it took. He was obsessed with her, and he knew there would never be anyone else for him.

Chapter Seven

'I want to know where you were. And don't you lie to me, Christine, I already know the answer.'

'Then why ask the road you know, Mum?'

The two antagonists stared at one another, neither willing to be the first to look away. They were so alike physically – thick blond hair and dark blue eyes. Both were fine boned, with small hands and feet. Eileen saw herself in her daughter, a younger, prettier version, of course. Christine wouldn't waste herself on a no mark; unlike her mother, this girl would use her looks and her brains to her advantage. Eileen would make sure of that if it was the last thing she did in this life.

She was heartbroken that it had come to this with her only child. A girl who had always done what she was told, who had made her so proud deep inside. Christine couldn't see that her name being associated with a family like the Murphys was something she would one day regret with all her heart. She might be naive, but she was certainly not stupid. Christine had seen the people who frequented their supermarket (Eileen never called it a shop, ever). She had seen how those people lived. She was nearly sixteen, she would be off to the sixth form soon and she would meet a different class of person. She would see that the estate was a dump for transients and no-hopers. She had seen them all her life, queuing up for their family allowance and their giros. She had to have seen that this was no life for the likes of her.

That the post office was a big part of their income Eileen never admitted. She looked on it with disdain as she did everything to do with the supermarket. With her husband's working life. With the place that kept her in the manner she was still not accustomed to as a result of it not bringing in as much money as she would have liked. Eileen was bitter; she had once pictured them with a chain of small supermarkets, and she admitted to herself that if she had been willing to work side-by- side with her husband, a second one would have been possible and then a third. But she was too proud. She had been to teacher training college and had become a part-time teacher at the local primary school. But she now understood that the supermarket should have been a joint venture. That boat had sailed a long time ago though, and she didn't plan to tell her husband he had been right. It was too late anyway, because he didn't want her there any more – she only put off the customers they did have. If it wasn't for him and the tick, the majority would leave and go to the new supermarkets springing up all over the place. Nevertheless, times were tough. They now depended on the giros, the family allowance and the car tax. They desperately needed another income, because they were finding it increasingly hard to make ends meet. The mortgage was crippling them, and Eileen was determined her daughter was going to contribute before she swanned off to marry and reproduce.

'Are you going to answer me, Mum?'

Christine was fed up now. Being questioned every day, every week, so aggressively was not something she