The Faithless - Martina Cole [84]
She had brought this down on their heads by bringing Jonny into their lives. Celeste wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forgive herself, but one thing she did know was that she would not go back to that house. She would go home and look after her dad, and then her mum when she finally came back from hospital. Jonny thought that he had done everything for the best reasons, but she knew that he had done everything he had for no other reason than that he could. Seeing her mother like this brought home to her just how useless her life had been up until this moment. It was time to grow up and take responsibility for herself, and those around her who she cared about, starting now.
‘Can I get you a cup of tea, Dad?’
Jack looked at his daughter as if he’d forgotten she was there, then he just shook his head sadly and went back to watching his wife.
Jack knew that without Mary he would have nothing; he remembered everything she had done for him over the years, and was ashamed that he had never even made her a cup of tea. She had slogged and grafted to keep them all clean, fed and watered. He wondered how many meals she had cooked everyone over the years, how many beds she had made, how many shirts she had ironed. It was true what they said – you didn’t know what you had till it was gone. Never was a truer word spoken.
He glanced at his daughter and saw the fear in her eyes that he knew was mirrored in his own; like him, she had taken her mother’s presence in her life for granted. They all had at one time or another, especially that Cynthia – Mary had brought her children up for her, been there for her in the good times and the bad. He knew how hard it had been for his Mary to turn her back on her elder child, and the result of their daughter’s actions was this heart attack.
Well, things were going to change, he was going to see to that himself. He never wanted to live through anything like this ever again, because he knew that if she went he would not be far behind her. A world without his Mary in it would be no world at all.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Bertie Warner was smiling, but it did not make him look in any way amiable. Jonny Parker’s shock was apparent, and that made Bertie a very happy man.
‘Surprised to see me, are you, Jonny?’
Jonny looked around him and, seeing the serious looks on the men’s faces, he felt truly afraid for the first time in years. Not that he would let this lot know that.
‘Well, well, well, if it ain’t Bertie Warner back from the dead.’ He injected as much humour as he could into the words.
But it was Bertie who got the laugh when he said, ‘No, not the dead, Jonny, me old son. Grenada.’ He looked at Linford then as he said seriously, ‘You’d like it there, son. A lot of fucking machetes, if you know what I mean.’
Jonny knew then he was on borrowed time and he said nonchalantly, ‘So you had a swerve. That’s all water under the bloody bridge now. What are you back for, fucking revenge?’
Bertie laughed now himself. ‘Oh yes, revenge, and to take back what was mine. Well, mine and Kevin’s anyway. He was my best mate, was Kevin. Me and him even did our National Service together, bet you didn’t know that? Back in the fifties when we were only kids. That’s where he got the nickname “No Face”. Playing poker in the stockade. But he was a good mate, a loyal friend, which is why you never approached me to have him over, you knew I wouldn’t swallow that. You knew I would chop your arms off, and then put you in the boot of a scrapped car and crush you alive.’
Jonny laughed at Bertie but it was a thin laugh. ‘You’re joking! That kind of thing went out in the sixties with all the old Mustache Petes. You can’t touch me without recriminations, you stupid old cunt.’
‘Oooh, hark at her! I can do what the fuck I like, mate, and the sooner you get your fucking thick head around that the better.’
Jonny Parker had forgotten how ferocious Bertie Warner could be. Bertie was a known headcase; he also had a taste for torture, and that had always