The blinkers had certainly fallen from her eyes. Erin had no illusions about Bobby; he was a spoiled, egocentric playboy, who played every woman he came into contact with, including his mother, to get what he wanted. Nevertheless, she was still madly in love with him, but she had no intentions of simply joining the ranks. It would be all or nothing for Erin Coyle. She played the long game . . .
Nosey Neighbours
Pacing back and forth on the pavement in front of the telephone box, Theresa finally plucked up courage and pulled open the heavy door. Money at the ready, she dialled the number written on the scrap of paper.
“Bridget, is that you?” Theresa roared down the mouthpiece. She hated using the phone and avoided them like the plague. Normally she would get Lizzie or her daughter to make any calls she required, but this one she had to make herself.
Lizzie Coyle and she had been friends since they had moved into Lomond Gardens, both young mums, over forty years ago. During all that time the women had seldom had a cross word. They had helped each other through many a crisis and there was little one didn’t know about the other’s life.
Theresa was convinced without any doubt that her friend was in real trouble. For the past while, in fact, since Sean had been discharged from hospital, things had been going downhill. Lizzie had lost her cheery disposition and never had time for a chat. She was always on the run, fetching and carrying for the invalid. Only Theresa wasn’t so sure that Sean was still an invalid. He had come out of his coma with the mentality of a ten-year-old. But it wasn’t a ten-year-old yelling and cursing at his mother night after night, wearing her down. This was a man, and a sickening bully of a man at that. His mother seemed terrified of him.
Theresa knew she’d get no thanks from Lizzie for talking about what was going on, but she’d risk her precious friendship before she’d let something happen to her pal. She was frightened enough by what she heard to believe that it was a possibility.
“Yes, Theresa, it’s me. What’s happened? Has Lizzie had another fall?”
“Well, she says she has, but she’s getting mighty clumsy in her old age. I need to talk to you or Paddy. There’s something going on, Bridget. She’s covered in bruises and the door’s been on the chain for the past two weeks. But it’s the arguments that go on, hour after hour, that I’m worried about most.”
“Who is she having arguments with, Theresa?”
“With Sean, of course. Who else is in the house?”
“Surely she would tell us if he was too much for her?”
“Don’t talk daft, woman. Lizzie Coyle would no more disrespect her boys than the Pope would change his religion.”
“Look, I’ll pop round to yours tonight.”
“Don’t let them see your car. Park it in the next street. Are you bringing Paddy?”
“No,” replied the daughter-in-law. “I can always call him if I need to, but it’s better I see what’s going on first, before him storming in.”
“Okay, Bridget. I’m sorry to phone you.”
“Not at all, Theresa. You’d never forgive yourself if things got out of hand.”
“Thanks, Bridget, I’ve been worried sick. I’ll see you later.” And the phone went dead.
God almighty, cursed Bridget. Was there never a moment when this family were normal and lived normal lives like normal people? God forbid if Sean was tormenting Lizzie, his other two brothers and his sister would skin him alive. She thought back to what Erin had said a few weeks ago. Maybe the girl had been right.
Strangely, she wasn’t surprised at the accusations, although she should have been. Lizzie’s family adored her, and quite rightly so. She was a mother in a million and had worked her fingers to the bone for them all, but Sean had changed, and it wasn’t the attack that had changed him.
When she and Paddy were first married the twins were teenagers and full of fun and nonsense, but over the years Sean had distanced himself bit by bit. She knew from what Paddy had told her that the boys had only work in common now.
Michael had more or less settled down with Margee and Bridget was sure a wedding was in the offing. Sean, on the other hand, was a womanizer. He had no regard for the opposite sex and never saw the same female twice.
There had been some trouble involving him just before the attack. She truly hoped Theresa had got the wrong end of the stick, but in her heart she knew the woman had not.
Friends
Lizzie heaved herself out of her chair, cursing whoever was ringing her doorbell. Lord above, she’d only just sat down, having been on the go all morning.
“I’m coming,” she called.
To her surprise, there, waiting on the step, was young Gerry Fairnie.
“Hello, son. I’m sorry, you’ve just missed the boys. They left five minutes ago.”
“Hi, Mrs Coyle. It’s not them I’m after. I just called round to see how Marie was.”
“Och, she’s fine, son. It would take more than a bit of a burn to keep our Marie out of action,” Lizzie answered the big fella. “Mind you, she got a sore one. Thank God it was her left hand because it’ll be a wee while before she can use it properly.”
“Strange how it happened. She swore she hadn’t left the handle over the gas flame, but what else could have caused it? Well, as long as she’s on the mend.”
“Fancy a cuppa? I’ve just made a fresh pot. Sean will be down in a minute.”
“Aye, that would be nice. Do you think Sean would fancy a bit of a run out? I’ve a wee delivery to make across the water.”
“Oh, laddie, that would be grand. It would let me get on a bit in the house, it’s like a tip.” It would also give me a break from that malicious big bugger, Lizzie thought.
“A tip? I don’t think so.” Gerry laughed, scanning the spotless sitting room. “It’s a far cry from a tip, but we’ll see if he fancies it or not.”
“Who fancies what?” Sean addressed his mother and his new best friend.
“I was just asking your ma if you’d fancy a change of scene, Sean. I have to go over to Helensburgh this afternoon for Paddy and thought you might like to come.”
Clapping his hands like an excited child, Sean dashed to the front door, grabbing his coat on the way.
“I think you’ve got your answer,” smiled Lizzie, relieved at the possibility of having the house to herself for a while.
“Now behave for Gerry,” she called to her son.
Sean stopped dead on the pavement, refusing to go any further. He stared at the big black shiny car and then about-turned, back into the house.
“No, no. Stay home,” he said, throwing himself on the sofa.
“What’s wrong, Sean? Don’t you like the car? It’s brand spanking new. Michael just took delivery yesterday and we’re certainly honoured to be allowed to use it.”
“Not Michael’s old car?”
“No, I don’t know what happened to that, mate. It was stolen or something. This one was delivered only yesterday. I daren’t get a scratch on it or I’m dead.”
Sean became even more agitated. “Who’s dead?” He repeated. “Who’s dead?” It was if he couldn’t quite catch the thought.
“Well, it looks like rain has stopped play,” Lizzie sighed.
Gerry wasn’t for giving up. “C’mon, Sean, let’s christen this beast. There’s nothing to be frightened of, and I won’t go too fast.”
With a tad more coaxing, mother and friend managed to get him into the shiny new car. Gerry took off like a bat out of hell before his passenger could change his mind.
It was a fairly silent journey with Gerry pointing out well known landmarks and territories along the way. They joined the M8 and crossed the River Clyde on the Erskine Bridge.
“Take the A814 out of Dumbarton, along the coast to Helensburgh,” said Sean, to Gerry’s surprise.
“What did you say?”
Sean, realising his mistake, tried in vain to cover his tracks, “Nothing.”
“You didn’t say nothing, you told me to
take the A814 to Helensburgh.”
“Sometimes I get flashes, I don’t know where they come from and I can’t always remember or repeat what I said.”
Gerry knew it! He had sensed from day one that Sean was a devious bastard and had no conscience at all about deceiving his mother and brothers. There was more to this than met the eye, but he had no intention of upsetting the man. He would bide his time and, as his mother used to say, ‘have his day’. Gerry was definitely playing the long game and Sean Coyle would pay for what he had done to his family. Oh, he would pay alright.
“Don’t worry about it, mate. The more you stress the worse it’ll get. Just relax, sit back and enjoy the ride.”
He’d have to be more careful. Thank God Gerry was such a gullible fool. If he’d said that in front of either brother, they’d have strung him up. Gerry was a nice enough guy and would certainly come in useful in the future.
The delivery made, they headed back to the city.
“I’ve got a few deliveries towards the end of the week if you feel like a trip? It’s surely better than being stuck at home − I’d go stir crazy. So what do you say, will I pick you up?”
“I’ll have to ask my mum, but I’m sure it’ll be okay.” The young Sean was back, much to Gerry’s annoyance. How much of a fool did this eejit take him for?
“Okay, we’ll ask Lizzie when I drop you off.”
“Maybe Errol could tag along?”
“For Christ’s sake, Sean. I’m doing deliveries for Paddy, it’s not a fucking Sunday school outing. Forget it, I was only trying to break the monotony, not run the Coyle crèche.”
“Sorry, Gerry, sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Gerry noted that not once had Sean queried what the deliveries were all about.
Spying
“I should be back around 9.30 p.m. I’m just popping round to your ma’s because she’s not been feeling too good.” Bridget told Paddy as she was serving his evening meal.
It was about the only time they seemed to talk nowadays. They had become like ships that passed in the night. He usually left the house to do his rounds of the clubs and saunas around ten in the evening and would seldom be home before daybreak. She couldn’t complain as that was when their money was made.
“What’s wrong with her? Not another fall?”
“Well, I’m not sure, but I hope to get to the bottom of these falls and dizzy spells quite soon,” Bridget said cryptically.
“What does that mean?” Paddy challenged his wife.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. And if not, I’ll bring her here for a while.”
“What about Sean?”
“What about Sean? He can do for himself if need be, but forget it for now. I’ll try to be home before you go to work.”
Erin was tending to the baby as her father put his head round the bedroom door.
“Everything okay? The wee man settled?” he asked his daughter. Despite his feelings toward the McClellands, and Bobby in particular, he was besotted with the baby and would take him out of his pram or crib at any opportunity.
“Dad! I’ve just got him down. God knows how long it’ll take me now and I wanted to watch a film starting in half an hour.”
“Off you go, I’ll watch him.”
Erin didn’t need asking twice. Off she went, leaving the two men in her life delighted to be in one another’s company.
There was a huge pile of acceptances for the christening on the desk and Paddy idly leafed through them. He couldn’t believe he was going to play host to his worst enemies. Fair enough, he’d disposed of the head of the clan, but not without good reason. He couldn’t bear to think this wee chap had any McClelland blood in him − the thought made Paddy heave. He’d racked his brains to figure a way out of the celebrations, but had come up with nothing – well, nothing that wouldn’t stop Bridget leaving him. There had to be a way, though. Otherwise there’d be another murder.
“You’re sure they didn’t see you?” Theresa asked Bridget for the fourth time.
“They didn’t see me. I came in the back way, through the drying green. Now calm down.”
“I’ll put the kettle on. It’s usually quiet till about eight, but he’s been out most of the afternoon with the new fella. You know the one, lost his wife ‘n’ kids while he was inside.”
“Gerry, Gerry Fairnie?” Bridget didn’t think for a moment that Gerry would have anything in common with Sean, but there you go, you just never knew.
On the other side of the wall Lizzie was settling down to watch her soaps, hoping against hope that Sean was too tired by his trip, that he would stay in his room and give her peace. Just a couple of hour’s peace would be fine.
Night after night he started. He found fault with everything. Arguing and berating her and as often as not giving her a clump or a push. Lizzie knew it was going to have to be dealt with, but pride stopped her. She had always walked with her head held high, proud of her sons. Proud of how they looked after her. How could she tell the family what Sean had become, what he had done to her? Her body was a mass of bruises and she was sure that last thump had left her with broken ribs. She was finding breathing painful and difficult. No way could she go to Dr McPhail; he’d get to the bottom of what was going on in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Nosy old git.
It was nearly nine o’clock and, three cups of stewed tea later, not a sound from next door.
“I can’t believe it, Bridget. Honest, I can’t believe it. These past couple of weeks not a night has gone by without some fracas or another. You know I wouldn’t cause trouble. Honest, I can’t believe it. I was scared something would happen to her.”
“Look, don’t worry. Thank goodness he’s leaving her alone. Maybe it’s the television you’ve been hearing. Whatever, it’s not happening tonight. I’d better be off. Don’t worry, Theresa, we should be thankful.”
“Hello, son, can I speak to Bridget?” Lizzie had no idea she was just about to start World War III in the Coyle household.
“She’s not in, Ma. I thought she was at yours.” replied her son.
“No, I haven’t seen her since the end of last week.”
“I’ll get her to call as soon as she gets home.” Strange, thought Paddy, she was definitely planning on going to his mother’s. Obviously she’d been waylaid. The sound of tyres on gravel announced his wife’s arrival.
“Hi, luv,” Paddy addressed his wife. “How was the old dear?”
“Fine, absolutely fine. I got completely the wrong end of the stick.”
“Oh, you did that, darlin’. My mother is just off the phone asking for a word with you, and telling me she hasn’t seen sight nor sound of you since last week. So whoever you were tending to, it wasn’t Lizzie Coyle.”
“I can explain, Paddy. It’s not what it looks like.”
“What does it look like, Bridget? And this better be good because it sure as hell doesn’t look good from where I’m standing.”
“I was and I wasn’t at your mother’s, if you know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, I was next door with Theresa, but Lizzie doesn’t know I was there. I promised to keep the reason to myself.”
“Why on earth would you be at Theresa’s and not call in on my mother?”
“I can’t tell you, but I had my reasons and so did Theresa.”
“You’re standing there, expecting me to believe that my mother’s friend would confide in you before her? I don’t believe a word of it,” and he marched out of the room.
He returned a short time later with a holdall. Of course he believed Bridget; the one thing he could be sure of, she wasn’t a liar, but this could be his way out of attending that fucking farce of a christening.
“Where do you think you’re off to?” Bridget shouted, barring Paddy’s way to the front door. “If you leave now, Paddy Coyle, don’t come back. I have never lied or cheated on you since the day we met, not that I can say the
same about you. If you leave this house tonight it will be for the last time.”
“Piss off,” he snarled at her and slammed the front door behind him.
The Car
Paddy had only stayed away for a couple of nights after the Theresa episode. He had never disbelieved Bridget and knew there would be a good reason for her actions, but right at that moment he had other fish to fry.
The police investigating the vehicle seen at the time of Billy’s disappearance had eventually got round to checking the one owned by Michael Coyle. This was serious stuff, and Paddy could see Michael having a hard time if they couldn’t produce the car or a report that it had been stolen.
The only way out of this mess was to doctor the vehicle just recently acquired. They would swap VIN numbers, which was a dodgy venture at the best of times. But in a car one connected to the disappearance of a kid, Forensics would go over it with a fine toothcomb.
The answer to their problem came via Gerry and Tiny. A certain Mr George Dodds owed Paddy over five grand, which had been used to finance a bank job that had gone wrong. Unfortunately for Mr Dodds the debt was still in place and he was toiling with the payments. George was probably the best wheel man in the country; he could pick up and disguise a car better than the manufacturers. The plan was to change the VIN number, run the clock forward and hand the car in for examination. It would then disappear from the pound. It was chancy, but they had no alternative and George Dodds would be debt-free.
Over the years Paddy had built up a whole network of bent cops and judges throughout the city. It was time for a few to earn their crust. Facing him was D.I. Higgins, an old acquaintance. Higgins and his wife had enjoyed many a Caribbean cruise, courtesy of the Coyle family, but it was payback time. Like most villains, Paddy hated the police in general, but he hated bent cops even more. To get collared fair and square was one thing, but to get put away by bent filth was intolerable. That’s what could happen to Michael if they didn’t get this matter sorted. To put Sean in the frame, guilty or not, was never going to happen. Paddy would exact his own revenge at a suitable time.
The Betrayal Page 11