The Family

he became. He refused to discuss his wife's condition, and Breda knew the next step was to get Phillip involved. Once he arranged a doctor's appointment there would be no further arguments, she would have to go, there would be no getting out of it. Breda decided she'd talk to Phillip tonight at the club, then she could relax and stop worrying. It was weird really – Breda gravitated from wanting to punch her mother's lights out, to wanting to hug her on a daily, almost hourly, basis. Deep down, Breda loved her mother even though she accepted that her affections were wholly reserved for Phillip.

'Here, apparently Philly's bringing his bird tonight – we're going to meet her. She's Jack McCormack's youngest daughter and it's a love job by all accounts.'

Veronica was pleased, it was about time those boys settled down. 'What, Mad Jack's girl Finoula?'

Breda nodded. She didn't realise her mother had met her, but then her mother knew everyone who had some kind of Irish heritage.

'Oh, Jasus, she's a lovely girl – beautiful. I've met her a few times with her mother at seven o'clock Mass. She goes every morning with Mary Mac. Done very well at school, I believe. She did a business something or other – I can't remember what, but she runs her father's bookies, and runs them well, I'm told.'

Breda was amazed. She had found out more about Finoula in two minutes with her mother than she would from young Philly if she interrogated him for six months. 'I forgot you and Mary Mac were mates, how is she?'

'Very well, God bless her and keep her. The old breathing is bad, like, but she loved a fag that one. Always had one sticking out the side of her gob! Even when she was cooking!' Veronica laughed in delight at the old memory. She was glad Philly was seeing someone like them, someone who understood their world. Timmy's tastes were for the more refined, but sexually accessible females. In short, he never kept them longer than a few weeks, if that. 'Posh totty' was how Phillip described his younger son's girlfriends, and she knew it was a derogatory term, though she didn't really know what it meant. But like young Philly and his father, one day he would meet 'the one', and then he'd change his tune like they all did.

Except her Declan, of course – in his forties now and still without a partner, as they insisted on calling them these days. Mind you, the same could be said for Breda, but sure, Breda was more man than the men she came across in her work. Though her conquests weren't so young these days – well, not as young as they used to be anyway. Veronica chuckled to herself. Her daughter had the sexual appetite of a Titan, she got that from her – not that she would ever tell her that, of course, but back in the day!

Jamsie had four stepchildren, and now two of his own, so he'd ended up with six. She was pleased for him though – he had a good girl there, a damn fine girl. And Porrick, him and his little thing were married now, and she knew a child wouldn't be long in the offing with them two. Porrick never said a shagging word, yet him and his girl were always whispering and smiling. Sometimes it got on her nerves, but she kept that to herself. Porrick was her grandson and she loved him, but he was a fecking eejit to try to talk to for any length of time. Would aggravate a saint as her mother used to say.

Veronica had been thinking about her life a lot lately since this illness had assailed her. She was sure it was serious and all she wanted was to spend what time she had left with her family, however long or short that might be. Especially her Phillip, her boy, her heart.

As Breda left: the house, she pulled her mother into her arms, and she could feel the frailty of her body. Kissing her hard on the cheek, she said quietly, 'We need you, Mum, all of us, so please go to the fucking doctors, will you?'

Veronica realised she must look much worse than she thought if Breda was so worried. The knowledge depressed her. She wanted another few years, see them all settled properly, and she would go happily to her maker. After all, that was what happened to everyone, wasn't it?

'Get yourself away, child, and tell me about Finoula and Philly tomorrow. I'll be beside meself until I know what happened.'

Breda left her mother, but she was anxious, and she knew that she had to tell Phillip to get her sorted out. Christine would make sure the doctor was good, and she would go with her to see him. Christine was great like that, she was dependable when it was something important. She did the jobs no one else really wanted to do, and for that Breda would be eternally grateful. The last thing she wanted was to be dragging her mother to the doctor against her will; as her father always said, her mother could make the top of the morning sound like a declaration of war. No, it would be much better if Christine took her.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Six

Declan was tired. He had just reached Southend Seafront, and now he was sitting like a lemon in the traffic – he should have left his place earlier. With the top down on his BMW convertible he could smell the salt, and the even heavier smell of the doughnut stands which was making him hungry. He had to stop eating – he was getting like a fucking elephant – but it was living alone, he didn't eat properly, but knowing that still didn't make him stop.

As he sat there in the sunshine, watching the girls go by in their skimpy summer clothes, he wondered how the night would be in the club. There had been a lot of trouble in the main nightclub. They had revamped it a year earlier, renamed it Legends and, for some reason, the last few months there had been nothing but fucking trouble in there. Not just fighting – that he could cope with. It was a nightclub in Essex after all and that was part of the Essex experience – a great night out involved a good drink and a good fight, it was almost mandatory really. No, it was the drugs, and the atmosphere they brought with them. There were new dealers coming in all the time. People they didn't know, had never heard of. Like most sensible club owners they used their own people. The franchise would be given to someone who would then deal discreetly and lucratively and they would also take the flak should the Filth decide to raid them. Not a problem in their clubs admittedly due to Phillip's connections, but every now and then there was a fake raid to make things look good. People paid a fair wedge to deal in peace, and so someone muscling in was bound to cause trouble. Which it had. The only thing was they were from out of the county, and all of them were apparently working for a ghost. The man they said had approached them was long dead. A very long time dead. He should know, his brother had killed him. It was Billy Bantry.

There was definitely serious skulduggery afoot, Declan would lay money on it. But until they could pin down who had actually given out the franchises, they were no better off. Every description was different, so that meant there was more than one person at work here. It was vexing, because they really didn't need any aggro at the moment; things were going so well, it would be a shame to have to go to war. But a war it would be. Phillip was livid, and taking it all as a personal insult. It would never occur to him that a lot of people thought that the Murphys had a bit too much for their own good and that a bit more of their largesse should be spread about locally. Well, Phillip wouldn't swallow that and, if Declan was honest, neither would he. They were businessmen, not fucking probation officers; there was no law that said they had to make sure strangers were doing all right. It was laughable really. At the end of the day, what did people expect from them? Fucking charity by the sounds of it.

Oh, Declan was annoyed and he was asking round anyone and everyone he could. Trouble was, no one seemed to be off- kilter to them and everyone had a viable excuse for their behaviour. Which left only one thing for definite. Some fucker somewhere actually thought that they could get away with something this fucking outrageous. It was insulting more than anything, and Phillip was losing patience by the hour, hence their constant presence in the nightclub.

Whoever this was would trip up sooner or later, and when they did, he and Phillip would be ready for them.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven

'This place looks fantastic, Philly, really upmarket.'

Finoula was impressed and Philly was revelling in her adoration. He knew this was a decent venue, and