The Faithless - Martina Cole [10]
‘Are you all right, Cynth? You look so down, love.’
Cynthia looked into her mother’s eyes, the same deep blue eyes that her daughter had inherited, and she said in genuine bewilderment, ‘’Course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?’
Mary smiled sadly. This was hard for her, really hard – she didn’t know how she was supposed to deal with any of this.
Chapter Seven
Jimmy looked around the kitchen and made sure there wasn’t a cup out of place. He wanted Cynthia to come home from her mother’s to a spotless house and a nice meal. He had even cooked for them. He was looking forward to seeing her and his new son, of course. He just wished his daughter was coming home with them too.
Jimmy found he was shaking, and he hated that he was so nervous about something so normal. His wife had only been for a visit to her mother’s – it wasn’t as if that was something outrageous. But she was so difficult these days, even making a cup of tea was like a military operation around her. He loved his new son and he adored his daughter, but Cynthia made everything awkward, he felt unable to enjoy being with his own family. He hated that he was so weak, and he knew that she hated that he was so weak. But he didn’t know how to fight her, he had never known how to fight for anything. That was the trouble.
He had always been the type of person who would do anything to keep the peace. That was all he had ever wanted, peace and quiet. How had it turned out so wrong? When did he realise that his life was a sham, and everyone had known long before he had that his wife was a nightmare?
As he heard the taxi pull up outside, he walked out into the hallway and said a silent prayer that his wife would be in a good mood for once. That she would walk into their house with a smile on her face, and tell him how much she had missed him.
But he didn’t hold out much hope.
Chapter Eight
Jack Callahan was watching Rainbow with his granddaughter on his lap. He loved this little girl, and he was loathe to send her back home to her mother. He didn’t think Cynthia was strange – he thought she was a complete fucking nut-job. And he was very vocal about his opinions, much to his wife’s chagrin.
‘Listen, Mary, the trouble with Cynthia is she’s self-obsessed, always was, and always will be. There is nothing you can do about it, so let it go, will you?’
Mary didn’t answer her husband; she knew from experience that he had said all he was going to say on the subject. Unlike her, he never made any allowances for his elder daughter, in fact, he was quite happy to denigrate her on an almost hourly basis. He had no time for Cynthia whatsoever and, as she had no time for him either, it was a very mutual arrangement. But it hurt Mary, because she loved her family, and she hated that her elder child had ruined everything with her toxic personality. She had left this poor child with them and, as much as she loved her, she knew that Cynthia should have wanted her own daughter at home with her, along with her new son. But Cynthia had never wanted Gabby, not really, and Mary knew she mustn’t think about that too much. It just hurt her feelings, hurt her inside.
Thankfully she had her younger daughter to take her mind off it. Celeste had just got in from work, and she was beaming, as always, with happiness. Smiling widely in response, Mary looked at her younger daughter and said with determination, ‘You look happy!’
Celeste grinned back at her, and Mary decided that this child at least was going to be all right. Celeste was the antithesis of her older sister – she had no side to her, what you saw was what you got.
‘I’m all right, Mum. I take it Cynthia hasn’t taken poor Gabby home?’
Mary shook her head. ‘I think she’s still a bit tired after the birth of young Jimmy . . .’
Celeste frowned then, very theatrically, in a