His love was a protective cocoon that gave me chance to heal. But I couldn’t allow myself to be sheltered by it forever. There was an old German proverb that read fear makes the wolf bigger than he is. I was afraid. But as long as I hid behind Tommy, that feeling would only escalate. Yesterday, Declan Murphy was an over-weight good for nothing drunk who attacked a physically weaker person. If I stayed in my own head, tomorrow he’d be a monster, incapable of being defeated. So I got up that morning. Showered away the memory of his vile touch. Dressed myself in the warmth of Tommy’s love and put one foot in front of the other. Yes, I was on edge, but I was there. Standing tall and refusing to be nothing more than Declan’s victim.
By mid-morning, things had gotten a little easier. My colleagues knew about the attack, but telling them was easier than hiding it. Initially horrified that I’d come in at all, my boss was nothing but supportive when I explained why, and I counted myself fortunate that I got to work with so many amazing people. Disappointed that I couldn’t lead the early morning rhyme-time toddler group, with my voice being as dodgy as it was, I was still glad that I got to take part. Children have a way of sucking all the energy out of you and replacing it with happiness.
Wishing for more distractions that would stop me worrying about a man who didn’t deserve the head space, I saw my mother stroll up to the reception desk, and realised I should be more careful what I wished for.
“Hi Mam. It’s nice to see you here,” I said politely, knowing I didn’t have the energy for another confrontation.
“It’s nice to see you too love. How are you enjoying the new library? It’s a lot bigger than your old one, isn’t it?” I frowned at her calm, polite tone and wondered if I hit my head harder than I realised yesterday. There must be some logical explanation as to why she was being so nice to me, but I had no clue what it was.
“I didn’t know you’d ever been to my old library.” I replied, cautiously.
“Of course I did. How do you think you got your love of reading? I used to take you there all the time as a child.” It was funny, but I remember going to the library as a kid. I remember the big comfortable chairs and the musty smell of old books that were too big for me to hold, but I don’t remember who took me. I guess the brain had a way of keeping the good stuff and filtering out the bad.
“Of course, you were never satisfied with just one book. Always insistent on having a huge pile of hardbacks with no thought as to who’d be carrying them home.” There was the barb I’d be waiting for.
“What can I do for you Mam?” I asked, wearily bracing myself for a confrontation.
“I was wondering if you were free for lunch?” I blinked twice, while wondering if I’d misheard. Although there was a little part of me that was curious, I wanted to say no. We’d never had lunch out somewhere before, not that I could remember, and there couldn’t be any good reason that she was asking me now. Still, if I declined I didn’t know whether she’d agree to it again, and I had told Tommy that I wanted to reconcile with her so I guessed then was as good a time as any.
“Sure. I only get an hour’s break though,” I replied.
“The Garden Café is just across the road. I could meet you there?”
“I break for lunch at one o’clock so I could be there a few minutes after that,” I suggested.
“Great. I’ll meet you there.” She departed as quickly as she’d arrived, leaving me slightly stunned. If I’d wanted something to take my mind off yesterday’s nightmare though, I’d found it.
“I ordered you a tuna salad sandwich. I didn’t think you’d want to waste time ordering if you only had an hour,” she said as I sat down. I didn’t like tuna, but it seemed churlish to throw her thoughtfulness back in her face.
“Thanks, Mam. How’s Dad doing?” I struggled for small talk, and I couldn’t imagine the awkwardness was one sided.
“Your father is the same as he ever was. Drunk half the time I suppose, and then fit for nothing other than falling asleep in the chair when he does stumble home.” I’d never heard her speak badly about Dad before. When I lived with my parents she talked about him like he was a paragon of virtue, whose life long convalescence had been earned by the sacrifice of two toes. An injury he’d endured working to put food on his family’s table.
“Why didn’t you ever say this before?” I asked.
“Because you don’t do you,” she said. “That’s a mother’s job. To protect her children. We pretend like everything is fine in the hope that one day it will be. Or at least if it’s not, that everyone outside of the family will believe in the lie. But in hindsight, I don’t think that feeding you that lie has done you any good.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You have an overly romantic view of love and marriage, and perhaps that’s partly my fault. I wanted to shield you, so I never let you see the truth of how things were with myself and your father.”
“Mam, why are you telling me this now?”
“I heard that Thomas Riordon has proposed to you.”
“Wow,” I replied, utterly shocked. “How could you possibly know that? It only happened last night.”
“His mother has been telling all and sundry that you’re both engaged. One of my friends messaged me this morning to gloat about how disappointed I must be.” The disdain with which she said it had my hackles rising. I was doing everything I could to contain my temper, but if she started laying into Tommy, all bets were off. My mother had never known anything but patience and restraint from me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t strong enough to show her more.
“Well, she doesn’t sound like much of a friend at all,” I observed.
“So it’s true then? You’re going to hitch yourself to that awful family.”
“There’s nothing awful about them. They’re good, kind people who’ve treated me with nothing but consideration and respect. It is true that Tommy asked me to marry him, but I didn’t answer, and he hasn’t asked again.” She sighed, the look of relief written all over her face. The disappointment that Tommy hadn’t mentioned the proposal again was a heavy weight in my gut, especially as I was more than ready to give him my answer.
“But you’re going to say yes to him, aren’t you? It’s written all over your face. Your blind devotion to that man is so naive.” It was such an ugly thing to say, that I actually winced.
“If you came here to insult me, I can think of better ways of spending my lunch hour.” I reached for my bag under the table, but she laid her hand over mine to stop me.
“That’s not why I came, and I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way.” I was stunned enough by the apology that I let go of my bag and sat back in my seat. I’d hear her out, but I wouldn’t be her punch bag any longer.
“Your father was twenty-four when I met him, and I was a silly sixteen-year-old who thought he was so sophisticated. We were married a week after my seventeenth birthday and within weeks of the wedding, I was expecting your brother. Marry in haste, repent at leisure they say. Well, it didn’t even take a year before I realised what a terrible mistake I’d made. We were two completely different people with absolutely nothing in common. Lust had made fools of us both and I was never as lonely alone, as I was when we were together.”
“Then why didn’t you leave? Plenty of divorced couples make a go of it on their own? Joe and I would’ve understood.”
“I couldn’t afford to leave him and support two children. Where would we’ve lived? Besides, the fact is that marriage vows are promises made before God. Despite my regret, I couldn’t break my word. When everything else is gone, God is all we have left.”
“Couldn’t you have asked your mam for help? Even if you didn’t believe in divorce, surely Grandma would’ve taken you in?”
“Evelyn, as far as my mother was concerned, my getting married so young just relieved her of the burden of having another mouth to feed. There was no way she’d take me back, especially not with two children in tow.”
&nbs
p; “I’m not sure why you’re telling me all this. Joe and I have moved out. We’re adults now. Surely that means you have the financial means to go your separate ways if that’s what you want, even if that means living outside of London.”
“I’m telling you this because I think you need to hear it. Because I wish to God my own mother when she was alive, had cared enough to have this conversation with me.”
“You’re asking me to turn him down, aren’t you?” I accused.
“No. I’m asking you to really think about how much time you’ve spent together and how well you know one another. Because eventually, beauty fades, lust subsides and money runs out. And when all three are gone, if you aren’t left with your best friend, you’ll find yourself unhappily tied to a complete stranger and wondering how you ever got there in the first place.”
I wanted to yell at her. To scream that she didn’t know anything about us. That she was ruining the euphoria of my first love. But she hadn’t raised her voice, or insulted me. She’d only asked me to stop and think, before making the biggest decision of my entire life, and it was hard to condemn her for that.
“You’re not going to say anything about Tommy not being right for me then?” I asked, stiffly.
“You know my feelings about that boy Evelyn. I don’t care how much you think he’s changed for you, he’s a slut. He’s slept with more women, young and old, than you or I have had hot dinners. You know the Irish community here is tight-knit! When you have children and drop them to school, how many of the other mothers there will he have slept with? He’s uneducated, violent, unpredictable and rude. If that is the sort of father you want for your children, then so be it. But when the blinders come off, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She finished her rant and sipped delicately from her teacup, as though she hadn’t just stuck a knife through my heart.
“You forgot some things. He’s also kind, loving, generous, courageous and funny. If your house was on fire, he’d risk his own life in a heartbeat to save yours, whether he liked you or not. Everything he does, he does for others. He’s only ever violent when he’s protecting those he cares about and he’s only ever rude to the people who are rude to him. He’s honest, whether you like that or not, but he stands by the things he believes in and he takes good care of the people he loves, and that’s the man who will be the father of my children.” I didn’t raise my voice above a whisper, but I spoke with such conviction that she was clearly shocked.
“Love is blind Evelyn, but believe me when I say that marriage restores its sight. I don’t want to fall out with you anymore. That honestly isn’t why I came here today. Just promise me you’ll think hard on what I’ve said. I know you have faith in him, just ask yourself whether it’s enough.”
The rest of our lunch was stilted and uncomfortable. The art of making polite conversation with one another was lost on us. The food itself might have been wonderful, but it tasted like straw in my mouth, and I left most of it untouched. Finally, the minute hand dragged its way around the clock and I had a legitimate excuse to leave.
“Perhaps we can do this again sometime,” Mam suggested. I smiled and nodded, but honestly? I think it was an empty gesture. I doubted that either of us would be in a hurry to repeat the experience.
We parted ways outside the library, just as my phone rang.
“Hello?” I said, a little nervous because I didn’t recognise the number.
“Is this Evelyn Danaher?”
“It is.”
“Hello, this is PC Timmons. We spoke yesterday.”
“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly.”
“I wish I was calling with better news. I’m afraid that we interviewed Mr Murphy at the station. He admitted to confronting you in the lobby of your building, but his story is that he bumped into you in the pub last week and noticed that you had some bruising. He says that your boyfriend, Mr Riordon, is a violent man and he feared he was abusing you. He confessed to following another resident in through the main door and waiting for you, but claims it was so that he could speak with you without your boyfriend present and that when you spoke, the marks were already around your neck. He denies that they were from him and believes that your boyfriend abused you and compelled you to claim it was him.”
I felt sick to my stomach as she explained how he’d twisted his story to make himself the victim.
“Do you believe him?” I asked. Her answer shouldn’t matter to me, but it did.
“I don’t. But it doesn’t matter what I believe, only what I can prove. And without a witness or other evidence, I’m afraid there’s not much more we can do.”
“I understand,” I said. But I didn’t understand. Not at all. How could someone do something so awful and get away with it?
“I’d still like you to come down so that we can photograph the marks, but without further evidence, I’m afraid we won’t be pressing charges.”
“Thank you for letting me know.”
I could hear the regret in her tone as she said goodbye, but it didn’t help. My lunch break was over but, for the first time possibly ever, I didn’t want to go back to work. The fears I’d decided to confront this morning, suddenly seemed so overwhelming. But, as much as I wanted nothing more than to be back in Tommy’s arms, I needed to shake off the funk of my bad mood first. If he saw me like this I knew he’d needle me until he found out what was wrong, and I didn’t have it in my heart to recite Mam’s defamation of his character or the fact that Declan wasn’t getting so much as a caution.
“Cynthia, did you drive in today?” I asked as I walked into the staff room to hang up my coat and bag.
“I sure did. Why? Did you need a lift home?”
“Not home, but do you still drive past St Paul’s Church on your way home? If you do, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind dropping me off there? I’d normally get the bus, but with everything that happened yesterday I don’t think my boyfriend would be too happy with me getting public transport.”
“Of course love, anytime you need a ride, you only have to ask,” she reassured me.
“Thanks Cynthia.”
We had an afternoon lull an hour later so I text Tommy to tell him that he didn’t need to worry about picking me up. There was already a message waiting from him, asking how I was doing. Seconds after I hit send, my phone was ringing.
“Everything okay love?” he asked. My lip wobbled at the sound of his voice, but I didn’t cry.
“It’s been a long day, but I’m okay. I’d like to pop into the church after work though.”
“No problem. I can pick you up from work and drop you there. I’ll just run a few errands and come get you after if you don’t want me to stay.”
“There’s no point you going out of your way when Cynthia is literally passing there, but I wouldn’t mind a lift home if you’re offering.”
“Always. Just give me a call when you’re ready and I’ll come get you. I know I’m being overly paranoid, but do me a favour and have Cynthia wait until you get inside before she leaves, okay?”
“Okay, baby,” I reassured him. “I love you.”
“Love you too gorgeous. Be good, and watch for paper cuts.”
I was emotionally battered, physically bruised and spiritually low, but through all that, the man I loved could still make me smile.
Chapter Twenty-Five
TOMMY
“What’s going on Tommy?” Danny asked me. He should’ve looked ridiculous, squeezed behind his desk, surrounded by cribs, bouncers and other baby paraphernalia. Instead, he looked the bad arse he’d always been. A little older, a little frailer lately maybe, but still capable of keeping all of us shits in line.
“Why aren’t you smoking?” I asked, suddenly realising that he was missing his trademark cigarette. When Em wasn’t around, he chain smoked one after the other. Always had. If he’d run out of smokes it would explain the pissed off look on his face.
“Em banned me from smoking in here altogether. Sa
id she doesn’t want the baby shit stinking of cigarette smoke,” he explained, grumpily.
“So? Just get the boys to move the baby stuff out of the office when she’s not here?” I suggested. Problem solved.
“And have it smelling like you sweaty articles instead? No thank you. Now, save me from any more of your stellar fuckin’ ideas and tell me what you want, or feck off.” I knew Danny well enough to guess from his reaction that Em hadn’t banned him at all. He just hadn’t wanted to taint the kids’ stuff. He complained endlessly about what a pain in the arse it was having the kids and Kieran’s dog Driscoll there, but when they were around, they were glued to his side and he never seemed in much of a hurry to let them go. Still, he liked to save face so we never called him out on it. Not that any of us were brave enough to anyway.
“I’ve got a problem and I’m going to do something about it. You handled it last time so I’m coming to you out of respect, but I don’t want you to take that as me asking for permission.”
He stared at me hard, unused to me speaking to him so directly. Normally, Danny said jump and we asked how high. But this was different. If he’d asked me to stand down and let my problem with Murphy go, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Evelyn was in danger. She was afraid, and that shit would never sit right with me. No way could I live in a world where my girl was scared, without me lifting a finger to do something about it.
“Tell me what happened, and don’t miss anything out,” he ordered. I recounted in detail what went down at the pub and how Murphy had attacked Evelyn the night before. When I was done, I was even more angry and worked up than when I’d walked in. Danny ran a hand wearily down his face and looked defeated. It was a look I’d never seen on him before, not even when we were arsehole punk kids in trouble for fighting or puking up in training because we’d been on a bender the night before. It had me worried, and I wished Em was there. She was the only person in the world who knew how to ‘handle’ Danny. She was up to her eyes at the moment with little D though, and I wondered if she’d noticed anything different about him lately.
The Fire (Hurricane Book 4) Page 22