The Family

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Philly couldn't believe his luck; he had got a complete swerve and all because he had given his father enough ammunition to keep old man Halpern in his pocket for the rest of his days.

As his father came into his bedroom they smiled at each other in complete accord and, winking, Phillip said quietly, 'Your mum thinks you're grounded, and we have to play along with that, OK? But now we've got a few minutes I want you to tell me how much you were shifting, and how much you were making a month.'

Philly took a deep breath before saying carefully, 'Well, it depended really, Dad. You see, we mostly sold five- pound bags and, as it was home grown, it was bright green and plentiful. Laughing gear, the boys called it. Anyway, I averaged about sixty bags a month, and I was getting it for two quid a pop. The Es were a different matter, they varied on price by how good they were. But I suppose on a good month I could rake in about four hundred quid.'

'What did you do with the money you collected?'

Philly bit on his lip before replying truthfully, 'You're standing on it. That floorboard's loose, it's underneath the floor.'

Phillip watched as his son knelt down and lifted the floorboard up. The whole space underneath was packed out with money.

'How much is down there?'

'Six grand.'

Phillip could hear the pride in his son's voice and, pulling him into a gentle headlock, he held him tightly as he said laughingly, 'You are a chip off the old block, no doubt about it. But remember what I told you in the car – you could have got us all hammered for this. You never shit on your own doorstep. But this wisdom will come in time. Until then, keep your head down, your nose clean, and apply yourself to your schoolwork. OK?'

Philly nodded happily 'What about the money?'

Phillip shrugged. 'What about it? You earned it, it's yours. You wanted a trail bike, now you can get one.'

'Really? Can I really?'

'Give it a few months. You'll have to act all contrite for a while and then, when I deem it's the right time, I'll talk your mother round for you, OK? But I want good grades, and good reports, or the deal's off.'

Philly shrugged, the living image of his father, as he said cheerfully, 'Fair enough.'

Phillip left him a little while later, proud of his son's obvious business acumen, and thrilled that he had such a son to teach and develop in the years to come.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

'Christine looks amazing, really great, Phil.'

Breda was genuinely happy that her sister-in-law was enjoying herself so much out on the town tonight. She worried about her at times – when she looked so down and depressed it was tragic to see her. But tonight she looked like the girl she had been years ago, before Jamsie and all that trouble.

Phillip gave her a small breakdown of the day's events, and he grinned in delight at how obviously impressed she was with Philly's little enterprise.

'The little fucker! Six grand! He's a chip off the old block, all right. I take it Christine thinks he's been punished big time?'

Phillip tapped his nose sagely. 'Well, you know my Chris, the less she knows about the real world the better.'

'Does Declan know?'

He nodded happily 'He thinks we should bring Philly into the firm when he's a bit older. I tell you, when you find out the whole story you'll fucking freak, girl.'

Breda was loving this Phillip, this was the Phillip everyone responded to. He was upbeat, charming, and she chose that moment to give him more good news. 'I got both the arcades for under four hundred grand, Phil, we signed this afternoon.'

Phillip looked at her with undisguised glee. 'Oh, Breda, you have made a happy man even happier.'

She preened at the praise, this was what she lived for. Phillip's opinion of her was more important than anything.

'I'll tell you something else, girl, you're looking good and all – almost as good as my Christine!'

Breda laughed. 'She is a looker, Phil, there's no doubt about that, mate.'

Phillip was pleased that Breda wasn't jealous of Christine's obvious charms. He watched his wife as she chatted to Declan, and saw the looks she got from the men around her. She had class did his Christine, real class. In her diamonds and expensive black dress, she looked like she'd stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. She dressed like a real lady, her high-heeled Jimmy Choos made her long legs look shapelier. He had never wanted her more than at this moment.

'We've done well, us lot, and we're just starting out really. Once I've finished we'll have the whole south coast. No one saw the potential here like I did. Look at this place, Breda, it's fucking buzzing.'

The pride in his voice was evident, and she understood how important achieving was to him. Unlike the others, she felt the same in many respects. She craved the respect money and position could guarantee. It was like Phillip said, a lot of the old-money people were wasters, they never understood the economics of how you made your fortune, all they understood was how to spend it. Like Breda, Phillip wanted his kids to understand the actual earn, so they would appreciate how hard money was to come by in the first place. It was about making your mark, your own personal mark on the world, and that was something Declan, Breda and Phillip were determined to do. Jamsie was like their father, he would take whatever fell into his lap – he had no ambition, therefore he was worthless to them all in more ways than one.

'It's a triumph, Phil. This place was dying on its feet until you took it over, and now it's the place to be seen. It's been heaving like this every night.'

Phillip nodded, he was more than happy with his new investment. Kissing his sister's cheek, he pushed through the crowded bar to his wife's side and then, taking her arm gently, he led her through to the VIP bar, stopping to say hello here and there to friends and acquaintances. All were hailing him like the new king of the turf, and that is exactly how he saw himself. This was his manor now, he owned it, and if he didn't own it, he had a stake in it.

Christine was having a great time, and that pleased him no end; seeing her happy made it all worthwhile. When she sparkled like this there was no one in the world like her. No one could touch her. This was the girl who had ensnared him all those years ago. This was his Christine at her finest.

In the relative quietness of the VIP bar, he kissed her on the lips. 'So what do you think, Chris? Like it?'

He looked around him, at the newly refurbished club, and she smiled genuinely. 'It's beautiful, Phil, really fantastic. Well done.'

She meant every word she said. For the first time in years she was seeing things from Phillip's perspective, seeing his world as it related to him. The new pills were making her old fears seem groundless somehow, and her life suddenly looked much better than she had believed it to be. Tonight she felt strong enough to venture out of her protective shell. 'Let's have a toast shall we, Phillip? To us, and a new start.'

He went behind the bar, and opened a bottle of Cristal champagne and, pouring two glasses, he handed one to her saying, 'I only keep this in for the footballers, fucking wasters the lot of them. But they give the place a certain cachet, so I can swallow them when I have to. Now, for that toast. To us, and to our boys, our sons, both of them blinding kids with great futures ahead of them, just like their parents.'

Christine looked into her husband's deep blue eyes and said sincerely, 'I'll drink to that.'

She was happier than she had been in years; she knew it was a combination of the drink, the meds, and the relief at her boy being saved from expulsion. But just for a few hours she wanted her Phillip again, to feel the love