placed a hand firmly across her mouth, convinced that if she didn’t then she would start screaming and, once she started, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to stop.
She bent over double then, her free arm hugging her own body, swallowing down the sobs that were fighting to get out. She felt a pain so acute inside her chest she honestly believed the child had finally taken the hint and packed up, ready to vacate her unwilling body. Instead though, she dropped onto the carpeted floor and, rocking backwards and forwards, she cried silent tears. Feeling them gush from her she felt the frustration and the rage building up once more as what she had done, what she had been the cause of, was played out in her mind’s eye all over again.
She had always sailed close to the wind, she was the first to admit that, and she had caused her fair share of trouble over the years. But never in her wildest dreams had she ever believed that something so heinous could have befallen her family over something she had done.
Her temper, as always, had been her downfall. Now it had brought the whole family down with her.
As she knelt there, she heard a high-pitched wailing and, for a few seconds, she wondered where it was coming from. It was only when her mother came into the room and pulled her roughly into her arms that she realised the sound was actually emanating from her. For the first time in years she enjoyed her mother’s strong embrace, didn’t try to shrug her off, or push her away. For once she didn’t act as if she was too old and too sophisticated for a mother’s love, a mother’s gesture of protection.
Instead, she hugged her back, grateful for the contact with another human being, grateful for her mother’s familiar smell, a mixture of cigarettes and Ajax toilet cleaner. She needed this woman’s support and love badly now. She had not felt this alone, had not felt this kind of abandonment before in her life.
As she cried on her mother’s shoulder, Imelda felt her face being touched, felt her mother pulling her face away from the folds of her clothes and, looking into her daughter’s empty eyes, she said softly, ‘If anything happens to this baby, Mel, I’ll hold you responsible, do you understand me? After all you’ve caused, you had better fucking make sure we have something to show for it. I know you, you have no fucking scruples, you’d flush it down the toilet without a second’s thought.’
Looking intently at the woman she had spurned and ridiculed for the best part of her life, Imelda saw something she had never seen before, had never even thought she would see. Her mother had finally been pushed too far. She knew that as she recognised, not only deep dislike in her mother’s wide-spaced blue eyes, but also a hardness that had never been there before.
Chapter Five
‘We can bury your father at last. The police are releasing his body tomorrow.’
Mary looked at her three children, the boys as always said nothing, they were like a rudderless ship. Drifting from one day to the next. Without their father telling them what to do and how to do it, they had no real sense between them. She was astounded at how dense they actually were, an original thought would die of fucking loneliness.
They now looked to her for their guidance, looked to her for work; she had been forced to pull herself out of her own tragedy to ensure that Jackie Martin gave them a living. And he wasn’t much better; without Gerald behind him he was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. It was a fucking joke, except she wasn’t laughing. She was doing her best to keep everything going. Money was needed now, more than ever. A lot of people had come through for them, and she was grateful, but those handouts were not going to last for ever. She had to get the boys back in proper work, and thereby get her cut from Jackie Martin, because she wouldn’t trust that ponce as far as she could throw him. He was a hanger-on by nature, a
She bent over double then, her free arm hugging her own body, swallowing down the sobs that were fighting to get out. She felt a pain so acute inside her chest she honestly believed the child had finally taken the hint and packed up, ready to vacate her unwilling body. Instead though, she dropped onto the carpeted floor and, rocking backwards and forwards, she cried silent tears. Feeling them gush from her she felt the frustration and the rage building up once more as what she had done, what she had been the cause of, was played out in her mind’s eye all over again.
She had always sailed close to the wind, she was the first to admit that, and she had caused her fair share of trouble over the years. But never in her wildest dreams had she ever believed that something so heinous could have befallen her family over something she had done.
Her temper, as always, had been her downfall. Now it had brought the whole family down with her.
As she knelt there, she heard a high-pitched wailing and, for a few seconds, she wondered where it was coming from. It was only when her mother came into the room and pulled her roughly into her arms that she realised the sound was actually emanating from her. For the first time in years she enjoyed her mother’s strong embrace, didn’t try to shrug her off, or push her away. For once she didn’t act as if she was too old and too sophisticated for a mother’s love, a mother’s gesture of protection.
Instead, she hugged her back, grateful for the contact with another human being, grateful for her mother’s familiar smell, a mixture of cigarettes and Ajax toilet cleaner. She needed this woman’s support and love badly now. She had not felt this alone, had not felt this kind of abandonment before in her life.
As she cried on her mother’s shoulder, Imelda felt her face being touched, felt her mother pulling her face away from the folds of her clothes and, looking into her daughter’s empty eyes, she said softly, ‘If anything happens to this baby, Mel, I’ll hold you responsible, do you understand me? After all you’ve caused, you had better fucking make sure we have something to show for it. I know you, you have no fucking scruples, you’d flush it down the toilet without a second’s thought.’
Looking intently at the woman she had spurned and ridiculed for the best part of her life, Imelda saw something she had never seen before, had never even thought she would see. Her mother had finally been pushed too far. She knew that as she recognised, not only deep dislike in her mother’s wide-spaced blue eyes, but also a hardness that had never been there before.
Chapter Five
‘We can bury your father at last. The police are releasing his body tomorrow.’
Mary looked at her three children, the boys as always said nothing, they were like a rudderless ship. Drifting from one day to the next. Without their father telling them what to do and how to do it, they had no real sense between them. She was astounded at how dense they actually were, an original thought would die of fucking loneliness.
They now looked to her for their guidance, looked to her for work; she had been forced to pull herself out of her own tragedy to ensure that Jackie Martin gave them a living. And he wasn’t much better; without Gerald behind him he was about as much use as a chocolate teapot. It was a fucking joke, except she wasn’t laughing. She was doing her best to keep everything going. Money was needed now, more than ever. A lot of people had come through for them, and she was grateful, but those handouts were not going to last for ever. She had to get the boys back in proper work, and thereby get her cut from Jackie Martin, because she wouldn’t trust that ponce as far as she could throw him. He was a hanger-on by nature, a
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