The Faithless - Martina Cole [138]
As she had spoken to the child, Cynthia knew this was the perfect opportunity to prove her daughter’s uselessness as a parent. This was like a gift from the gods, and she intended to take full advantage of it.
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight
Jack Callahan watched as his great-granddaughter turned her pretty little nose up at everything in his home. He was glad, for the first time, that Mary wasn’t here to witness this; it would have broken her heart. Cherie had been a sweet little thing when she was born, but now she was Cynthia’s spawn, there was no doubt of that. He was sorry that he could find nothing to like about the child – even her beauty wasn’t enough to make up for her natural air of superiority over everyone around. Like Cynthia before her, she already thought she was the dog’s gonads, and he was itching to put his hand across that spoilt face. The worst thing of all was seeing poor Gabby trying her hardest to win the spoilt little mare over and only managing to make the child respect her even less. It was obvious the child knew the state of play, and was happily making her poor mother jump through hoops.
The little boy, however, was too young for Cynthia to have done much damage. Either that or the lad had more of his father in him, and wasn’t so easily swayed. Jack hoped so, because if not, a few years down the line, there was going to be another troubled boy, like that fucking looney James Junior. Jack watched a lot of daytime TV these days and he knew all the psychobabble, and the words ‘mother-damaged’ always sprang to mind where that boy was concerned. Cynthia was like a disease, a cancer which invaded everyone around her until they were all infected with her spite and hatred. Now Jack could see her all over again, reincarnated in this little girl before him. He wasn’t sure he could take it any more and his plea to her was heartfelt.
‘Please, Cherie, will you just for once stop your yammering! Let’s all sit together in peace.’
Little Vince was watching in fascination; he always did what his sister wanted – it was easier that way. But he didn’t want to watch a film about Barbie, he wanted to watch Buzz Lightyear. He liked him, he was funny. He wondered if his sister would get her own way – she usually did where their mummy was concerned. He liked his mummy, and he liked his great-granddad Jack, but he knew that his nanny Cynthia didn’t like them, so that could be difficult sometimes. He had learned at a young age never to let his feelings show; it caused too much trouble.
‘I don’t want to watch that film, it’s for boys.’
Jack decided he had really had enough of this one’s attitude. He leant forward from his armchair then, and said firmly, ‘Well, that’s what is known as tough shit. I want to watch Buzz Lightyear, so does your mum, and so does your brother. Look up the word “democracy” in your dictionary, love. It means that the people with the most votes win! Now, put a sock in it, and let’s get this show on the road.’
Vincent, thrilled at the turn of events, climbed on to his great-granddad’s lap happily. But his enjoyment was short-lived. As the film began, his sister unleashed a tantrum which was, without doubt, her biggest and loudest to date. In short, pandemonium broke out.
They were back at their mother’s by five past eight.
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Nine
Cynthia was nervous, but she felt sure she was doing the right thing. She had everything she needed to hand and all she had to do now was wait until it was late enough, and she could put her plan into action. As she waited patiently until she could safely leave her flat, she daydreamed of the life she would have with the kids she adored. And adore them she did, especially her Cherie, but then her little Vincent, though she hated the name the child bore, had stolen her heart as only a boy can. When she recalled the way he would climb up on to her