The Faithless - Martina Cole [47]
She had never questioned that she was capable of great violence. Inside she had always known it; from a child she had been consumed by violent rages. When she was really angry she knew she was capable of almost anything, she knew she could easily stab someone if they thwarted her. She saw it as part of her strength and now she saw it as part of her allure. She looked like butter wouldn’t melt when, in reality, she was capable of carrying out serious harm.
That Jonny Parker loved that about her was the bonus, of course. She had always known they were meant to be together, she had made a big mistake once by letting him get away and she wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
The strangest thing of all was she realised she loved Celeste – really loved her. Now she wasn’t a rival any more, Cynthia could find it in her heart to pity her. With her big house and her endless supply of dosh, she now had the one thing Celeste really wanted. She had Jonny Parker, and she was not going to let him go.
She would kill him first.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Gabby watched in amazement as her mother laughed and joked with them all. She was like a new person, and it was wonderful.
Gabby had at last stopped wetting the bed, and stayed Sundays and Mondays at her mum and dad’s house. It was wonderful. They ate a lovely meal together then watched the telly. Sometimes her mum still got impatient with them, though never too much, even when James Junior was really naughty. She loved her school, and she was making friends and, all in all, life was good. Now she had Christmas to look forward to as well. Everyone was going to come to their house! Her grandad said it was unheard of, though somehow Gabby knew she mustn’t say that to anyone or it would cause trouble. There was a big tree up, and the mantelpiece was decorated with a huge piece of pretend holly. Her nana said it looked like a Victorian Christmas card, and her mother had liked that so it must have been a compliment. Never had Gabby looked forward to something in her life as much as she looked forward to this coming Christmas Day. The turkey was massive, the veg was all prepared, and her nana was going to bring the Christmas pudding. She had actually helped her mum ice the Christmas cake, and she and James Junior had been allowed to make a chocolate log. It was magical.
As Gabby lay there wondering at how lucky she was, her mother came into her bedroom and sat down on the side of her bed. This was something else she was beginning to like – her mother had started chatting to her like a real person, like the mummies in the books at school. She didn’t just tell her off all the time.
‘You comfortable, love?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ She still knew enough to watch her Ps and Qs.
‘Looking forward to Christmas, I bet?’
She nodded, her face shining with happiness.
‘Well, remember that Santa only comes to good boys and girls.’
‘I will, Mummy, and I’ve been good. Sister Angela said I had been impressive, that was the word.’
Cynthia laughed then, a real laugh. ‘I remember her – tall, ugly old cow.’
Gabby grinned at this blasphemy. ‘She said I looked just like you at the same age.’ She had also said that her mother was a heart-scald if ever there was one, and that she had been nothing but trouble from the day she walked into the Sacred Heart School. But Gabby wisely kept that bit of the conversation to herself.
Cynthia looked down on her lovely daughter – she really was lovely, she was beautiful. ‘You’re a good kid, Gabs.’
This was another new thing, the shortening of her name to “Gabs”, this from her mother who always insisted everyone got their full title.
Gabby felt the tears sting her eyes then, it was not often her mother