The Faithless - Martina Cole [146]
It hurt that her own brother hated her so much he was willing to do that to them all, was capable of setting fire to her home, when she was the only one who had always tried to do what she could for him. In her own way she had kept in contact with him and, consequently, she had brought him into her children’s lives. What a price they had paid for her stupidity!
It was hard getting through the days, and she still had very black moods when she wondered at what was going on with the world and she questioned everything. Why had this happened to her? Why she had been singled out for so much heartache? She had no answer. But it meant she would not celebrate this new baby until it was born – anything could happen between then and now.
As she combed her thick hair into place, the phone rang and she answered it carefully, making sure not to drop the receiver. It was the police. She listened for a few moments, before asking, ‘Is this about James?’
She hoped they had found him; the thought of him out there after what he had done was worse than anything. Supposing he came back to finish the job? That was her nightmare – him sneaking back to burn them to death in their beds. He was capable of murder as they all knew – look at that Dougie person he had killed. She shuddered at the thought. Plus, if they caught him, then that meant her Vincent could not get his hands on him. Revenge wasn’t worth doing life over. Her greatest fear was that Vincent would be banged up for the rest of his days. She knew he spent hours trying to track James down and had put a price on his head. Anyone with information could get twenty-five grand if it led to him being found. That was a big incentive, and she knew it.
‘I beg your pardon, are you sure?’ She listened for a few more seconds then she said in a dazed voice, ‘No, I’ll tell my mother, I don’t think she should hear this over the phone.’
She put the receiver back in its cradle and went into her kitchen. Sitting at the kitchen table, she looked around her for a few moments, unable to get to grips with what she had just been told.
James was dead. He had been dead for over a year, although he had only just been found in a squat in Leicester. He had died of a heroin overdose, and he had been lying there all that time, undiscovered. They had deduced that it was James through his belongings, despite the body being in a state of decay. They would confirm with a DNA test, but they were more or less certain it was him.
If James was dead, then who had tried to burn her house down? Who had killed her little boy? And, more to the point, who had been at her mother’s a few days before the fire? None of it made any sense. The person they had found could not have been James, surely? She decided to ring Vincent. He would know what to do.
Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Five
Cynthia was happier than she had been for a long while. She was finally getting over losing that little child and his awful death. She still needed a drink to get her through the day – and especially the nights – but she was beginning to feel she had it all under control.
Vincent had not taken to his daughter, and she had not taken to him, thank God. Cherie looked down her nose at him, and so she should. Cynthia had drummed into the child to expect better in life and she would make sure she got it. It had worked out quite well for her. Well, it had worked out as well as could be expected, all things considered. At least she had Cherie who, at ten, was so like her at the same age it was uncanny.
Now that silly cow was pregnant again. Didn’t she ever learn? The girl was a total bloody idiot where Vincent was concerned. She could not see further than his dick, and that was about the strength of their relationship. He fucked her, he got her in the club, and then he left her. Gabriella believed it was third time a charm. As if that oik would be