The Family

sure you're pregnant?'

She nodded, she had expected that question sooner if she was honest.

'Are you sure it's mine?'

She had not expected that one at all. She was up and out of the bed in seconds and, screaming at him at the top of her voice, she said nastily, 'How dare you ask me that! Who the fuck do you think you are?'

He grinned then, a tight, sarcastic grin. 'I'm Philly Murphy, love, and you had better remember that. We had a great time, but it's over now. That baby is not going to drag me down all me life, because if you have it and a DNA test says I am the father, then I'll have it off you, darling. No child of mine will be brought into all this.'

He looked around him in disgust, his instincts telling him to frighten her into getting rid of it. He had to make her see that having this child just wasn't an option. And it wasn't just because he was too young and too immature to have a child. It was mainly because his dad was going to go fucking ballistic. As he walked out of the bedroom he said seriously, 'I'll give you a grand to get it done privately, and then there'll be another grand afterwards. But remember this, Tiff, no matter what, I wouldn't touch you with the bloke next door's now. You're scum. If you think you can trap me, you'd better think again.'

Tiffany watched Philly walk out the door, along with all her plans and all her dreams. She was fuming at his words. She had not expected anything like that. She wished she had the nerve to pick up the kitchen knife and run it through his heart. She was filled with rage at his obvious disgust for her and her way of life. She had fucked him raw and what did she have to show for that time and effort? Sweet fuck-all, that's what. She was so angry she could easily cry. His reaction had hurt more than she would ever admit. His complete dismissal of her, and anything to do with her, had really rankled. Who the hell did he think he was? But then she knew exactly who he was, and that was why she had pulled this stunt in the first place. It was over, and she knew it. There was no going back now.

As she made herself a cup of coffee, her sensible head kicked in and she accepted that two grand was better than fuck-all. Because he wasn't coming back. She had overplayed her hand, so it was now about limiting the damage.

Sighing, she lit a cigarette and pulled on it deeply. Life was shit and then you died; she wished she could remember who had said that. Because whoever it was certainly knew what they were talking about.

Chapter Ninety-Nine

Jamsie walked into the arcade and was amazed at the change in people's attitude towards him. He was saluted and hailed from all sides, treated like a conquering hero, and he loved it. For the first time in years he knew what it was to be liked, respected and, more importantly, welcome.

As Breda walked towards him she saw that he was full of his new-found confidence and, smiling widely, she said, 'Hello, little brother, what brings you here so early?'

Breda looked good, and she knew it. As usual, her son Porrick was lurking in the background. He was his mother's permanent minder, and it suited them both. They were close, and they understood each other perfectly which, in their game, was a definite must. A minder and a mindee needed to be in perfect sync. Needed to be able to pre-empt each other to avoid danger and work together to get out of any situations that might arise. In a cash business a good minder was worth their weight in gold. Breda dealt with huge amounts of money, and she moved it around constantly, that was the great thing about cash businesses. You only declared what you wanted to. Consequently, there was a lot of cash to be stashed, as Breda always laughingly said. But she also appreciated how much she needed her boy to keep his eye on her, and everything she did.

'I came in to see you actually, have you got a few minutes for me?'

Breda took him through to the offices, assuming it was something else about the upcoming wedding. Now it was confirmed, the arrangements were going faster than a five-quid stash. Her mother was seeing to that. Breda was thrilled, it kept the woman off her back. She loved her mum, but she was what was known as an interferer, she thought it was her right as a mother to dictate people's lives.

As she poured them both coffee, Jamsie said hesitantly, 'Would you mind, Porrick, if I spoke to your mum on the quiet?'

Porrick shrugged and at his mother's almost imperceptible nod he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

'Why the cloak and dagger, Jams?'

He shrugged and she noticed that he had filled out in the last few months; the skinny, haunted man was long gone. He had always been much better looking than he realised, and she was glad to see him looking so well. He was flourishing. Like her mother she had always had Jamsie on her conscience. And, like her brother Phillip, she had once contemplated killing him. It was a complex situation, and one she was glad was never openly discussed. The arrogance of youth, that was how she referred to it in her own mind, but she knew, just as Jamsie did, that nothing could ever justify the events of all those years ago. She didn't drink like that any more or take drugs; the only good thing to come out of it all was it had made her take a good look at herself and her life. She had prospered ever since.

'I have a bit of a worry on me. I could be wrong, Breda, but I don't think I am. Jonnie Piper is a nice bloke and all that, but lately there's been a geezer hanging round the firm called Dan Smith. Well, I had someone ask about, and it turns out he works for Billy Bantry. What's Bantry got to do with the motors? I mean I might not be fucking Stephen Hawking, but I can smell a rat before it's stinking.'

'Is this Smith there much?'

'All the fucking time, even questions me about orders and that. It's like he's the boss, the real boss, you know?'

Breda was listening intently, all the time her heart slowly sinking into her stomach. This was trouble – serious, unadulterated trouble. Phillip had left Bantry behind years ago; he had used him as a stepping stone, but they were still tight. Anyone would understand Billy Bantry feeling that maybe he was owed, but they would also understand that now he would not want to push that fact too much. Especially not with Phillip Murphy.

But this was different, this was a sneaky, underhand and definitely dodgy enterprise. Breda knew that Declan and Phillip had their reservations about Piper, but she put that down to Phillip's usual contrariness. He took on a partner, then decided he didn't want them any more. It went from sweetness and light to dark days and thunderstorms overnight. She saw that she had just had some very explosive information dropped into her lap. It also made her realise that she was completely out of the loop about anything to do with the car business, and that annoyed her; a small part of her felt the urge to sort this out herself just to show she could. But the reminder sitting in front of her made her recall with perfect clarity the last time she had thought she could sort things out for herself and she immediately stifled the urge. She was miffed nevertheless. She knew now without a doubt that she was gently but surely being rowed out of the main businesses. The games were as far as she was going to go and, in fairness, that was pretty high in most people's estimation. But it bored her – she could do this job with her eyes closed. This was about Phillip and Declan playing their game of 'Big Boys Only' lately. As much as she enjoyed running the games, she missed being part of the main crew.

She wondered suddenly if it was her age; she was pushing forty, and still on her own, the younger men were getting harder to keep, and she was lonely for someone she could talk to. Not just about her day, but about her life, her work. Even Porrick had a girlfriend – a nice little thing, with a big shy smile, who hung on his every word (and that was no mean feat, because her Porrick, as much as she loved him, wasn't exactly known for his sparkling conversation). But the girl loved him, and he loved her, whatever they saw in one another it worked for them. Now Jamsie had made her see her life for what it was – all work – and, even then, she wasn't really treated as she wanted to be treated, needed to be treated. She had been out of the motors since the off.

She saw Jamsie looking at her sadly and he said gently and honestly, 'Look, Breda, I ain't asking you to get involved. I just want you to tell me if I should talk to Phil or Declan. I don't want to cause an international incident if I've got it all wrong.'