truth.'
Christine shrugged her shoulders, and turned away from her sister-in-law as if the action would negate what she had been trying to tell her. 'You can see yourself out, Breda. I have to get my kids ready. We're going to your mum's for dinner. She'll need us there with Declan being away.'
As Christine walked up the newly decorated stairway, with its expensive wallpaper and freshly painted woodwork, to her baby's bedroom, she could feel her body rebelling against her sister-in- law's words. Her younger son was crowing with contentment in her arms, unaware of what was happening to the people closest to him. The complete devastation his uncle's incarceration had brought on the rest of his family.
Breda was always trying to undermine her, and make her feel like her life was not as rock solid as she believed it was. She felt that Breda took pleasure in making her feel insecure and nervous that her idyllic life could be over with at any moment. She was always trying to force that point home, as if it would make some kind of difference, would make her accept it as a truth. Breda terrified her with her truths. She didn't want the truth, didn't need it.
As she opened her blouse and settled her son on to her swollen breast, she forced herself to calm down and focus on her boys. As the terror of her situation slowly abated she looked around her at all they had achieved, and reminded herself once again just how lucky she was to have her Phillip.
----
Chapter Twenty-Four
Veronica Murphy was heartbroken about her son's situation, but she was also a realist. She knew that it had had to happen to one of them and, really, it had to be the son with the least to lose. Phillip had a family and he was the main earner, so even though she was upset about Declan's situation, she accepted it. What else could she do? Whoever had grassed had to be a name of sorts, otherwise the Murphys would have found out who it was before it had come to this. She wasn't a fool, she knew that Phillip had probably tracked down the person responsible by now, he would have their name, address and social security number. She knew him better than most. Even though he was seething, he would not make a drama out of a crisis. Unlike the police, he would make sure he had all the facts and the correct culprit before meting out any kind of punishment.
Her husband was, as always, without any real opinion on the subject, and Phillip had assured her that he would see to it that Declan was well taken care of. In effect it was all over, and now they all had to carry on as best they could.
It was Breda who worried her. Breda was very upset about it all and, typically, was being very vocal about it. She could never keep her trap closed. It would be the ruination of her eventually. Not that she would listen to anyone's advice. But one day her big trap would bring her trouble of Olympian standards. She never considered how her actions might affect the people around her. It would always be her weakness, and it would surely be the thing that would eventually lead to her own downfall. She didn't have the brains to keep herself and her business private.
As Veronica opened the oven door, and took out the huge forerib of beef she had been roasting for the best part of the day, she heard the front door open. She was basting the meat when her youngest son came into the kitchen. He smiled craftily as he said to her, 'That smells handsome, Mum. How long until dinner?'
Her James, her Jamsie, was big and good-looking, and had the brain capacity of a gnat. She could see that it was better for Declan to go away than this eejit, even though she knew that Declan was worth ten of his little brother. Unlike Declan, Jamsie wasn't cut out for prison, though in reality who was? But the difference was, of course, that Declan could cope with the confinement, would do his time in relative comfort, and with the
Christine shrugged her shoulders, and turned away from her sister-in-law as if the action would negate what she had been trying to tell her. 'You can see yourself out, Breda. I have to get my kids ready. We're going to your mum's for dinner. She'll need us there with Declan being away.'
As Christine walked up the newly decorated stairway, with its expensive wallpaper and freshly painted woodwork, to her baby's bedroom, she could feel her body rebelling against her sister-in- law's words. Her younger son was crowing with contentment in her arms, unaware of what was happening to the people closest to him. The complete devastation his uncle's incarceration had brought on the rest of his family.
Breda was always trying to undermine her, and make her feel like her life was not as rock solid as she believed it was. She felt that Breda took pleasure in making her feel insecure and nervous that her idyllic life could be over with at any moment. She was always trying to force that point home, as if it would make some kind of difference, would make her accept it as a truth. Breda terrified her with her truths. She didn't want the truth, didn't need it.
As she opened her blouse and settled her son on to her swollen breast, she forced herself to calm down and focus on her boys. As the terror of her situation slowly abated she looked around her at all they had achieved, and reminded herself once again just how lucky she was to have her Phillip.
----
Chapter Twenty-Four
Veronica Murphy was heartbroken about her son's situation, but she was also a realist. She knew that it had had to happen to one of them and, really, it had to be the son with the least to lose. Phillip had a family and he was the main earner, so even though she was upset about Declan's situation, she accepted it. What else could she do? Whoever had grassed had to be a name of sorts, otherwise the Murphys would have found out who it was before it had come to this. She wasn't a fool, she knew that Phillip had probably tracked down the person responsible by now, he would have their name, address and social security number. She knew him better than most. Even though he was seething, he would not make a drama out of a crisis. Unlike the police, he would make sure he had all the facts and the correct culprit before meting out any kind of punishment.
Her husband was, as always, without any real opinion on the subject, and Phillip had assured her that he would see to it that Declan was well taken care of. In effect it was all over, and now they all had to carry on as best they could.
It was Breda who worried her. Breda was very upset about it all and, typically, was being very vocal about it. She could never keep her trap closed. It would be the ruination of her eventually. Not that she would listen to anyone's advice. But one day her big trap would bring her trouble of Olympian standards. She never considered how her actions might affect the people around her. It would always be her weakness, and it would surely be the thing that would eventually lead to her own downfall. She didn't have the brains to keep herself and her business private.
As Veronica opened the oven door, and took out the huge forerib of beef she had been roasting for the best part of the day, she heard the front door open. She was basting the meat when her youngest son came into the kitchen. He smiled craftily as he said to her, 'That smells handsome, Mum. How long until dinner?'
Her James, her Jamsie, was big and good-looking, and had the brain capacity of a gnat. She could see that it was better for Declan to go away than this eejit, even though she knew that Declan was worth ten of his little brother. Unlike Declan, Jamsie wasn't cut out for prison, though in reality who was? But the difference was, of course, that Declan could cope with the confinement, would do his time in relative comfort, and with the
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