The Faithless - Martina Cole [65]
‘Did he swallow it?’
Derek smiled, a wide, amiable smile. ‘Hook, line and fucking sinker.’
‘He’s a slippery cunt Jonny P, and he can smile while he cuts your nuts off, so don’t let your guard down even once, you hear me?’
Derek nodded, exasperated at how careful Phillip could be at times, even as he understood why the man was chary. Jonny P was a force in his own right, but not for much longer.
‘Let him stew a while, and get him onside, then we’ll arrange the final meeting.’
Derek nodded his assent. ‘My thoughts entirely, Phillip. Then we can meet our mutual friend and get the deal done sooner rather than later.’
‘It’s going to cause chaos, you know that, don’t you?’
Derek nodded.
‘You can walk away any time you like, son. This is a dangerous operation, and you have a young family.’
‘I know, mate, but I’m in over me head now, and I feel confident we can pull it off.’
Phillip smiled, one of his rare, real smiles. ‘Good lad. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’
Chapter Fifty-Three
‘Well, maybe if you took more notice of him he might not be such a fucking strange one, James. If you didn’t snort up that shit like there’s no tomorrow . . .’
Jimmy Tailor looked at his wife and wondered as he often did what she would do if he slapped her across her lovely mouth. He never would, but it didn’t stop him dreaming about it. ‘Shut up, Cynth, for once in your fucking life, just shut up.’
It was evident that she was momentarily shocked at his words, but she recovered her composure in about three seconds. Her shouting could be heard all over the house and, in her bedroom, Gabby put her hands over her ears. She was sick of it, and she was sick of being held prisoner like she had done something wrong. She could hear James Junior next door, kicking the wall as loudly as possible, and wondered at how she wasn’t as mental as him.
She turned her CD player up to drown out the noise of her family’s madness. She lay on her bed and thought about Vincent, which was all she did these days – even her schoolwork was suffering. But he was like a obssession, growing more powerful by the day. She wondered if he would be at the school gates tomorrow? She hadn’t seen him today and it had worried her. Maybe he was fed up with the situation. Who could blame him? It was all her fault. She couldn’t bring herself to use the word mother, or mum. She was just her now, and Gabby hated her.
Downstairs, the shouting was reaching its crescendo.
‘You! You’re not a fucking man, James Tailor, you’re a fucking boy, an innocent, a laughing stock as well!’ Cynthia was in full screaming mode now, her life as she knew it was in tatters, and this idiot she had tied herself to was as much use as a handbrake on a canoe.
‘He’s fucking going, Cynthia. If it will help him he has to go, can’t you see that?’
Cynthia was swallowing down the urge to smash this man over the head with the nearest chair. He was quite happy for their son, their child, to go into a psychiatric assessment centre, a place where he would be labelled a nut-bag, and he thought she would happily say it was OK. What fucking planet was he on? As always, her mind was not on the poor child, but on what his actions would look like to the outside world, what people would think of her.
‘It’s only for a few weeks, and then he’ll be home, and he’ll get the help he needs.’
‘Over my dead body.’
‘Well, from what the shrink said that’s an option, Cynth. She said he’s on his way to becoming a full-blown Looney Tunes. Or, in her words, he has no idea of the effect his actions have on the people around him. He is only interested in the world as it pertains to him and his wants. He cannot empathise with others, and has no understanding of the needs of others. Quote, unquote. Remind you of anyone, Cynth?’
‘You ponce! Don’t blame me for all this! This comes from your side, all fucking weird your family. Your mother’s about as with-it as a three-legged camel.’
Jimmy sighed heavily. ‘Can’t you see that