Jessie Flynn didn’t answer her mother, she didn’t know what to say to her. She just knew she wasn’t the same girl she had been before those men had arrived on their doorstep, armed and dangerous. Her whole life had been like a dream until then, like a fairy tale, and it had been based on lies, built on quicksand. Everything she had ever believed in was without foundation, without substance. Even now, her father was out there, making sure that Billy’s body was disposed of, taking care of business, and everyone acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The truth was, she didn’t care about Billy Thomas. She didn’t care that he was dead. She had wanted to be found out from the start; she had never dreamt that she could get away with her behaviour for so long. But she had, and it was only because her parents had always thought the best of her. They should have known that something was wrong with her, none of them had noticed anything amiss. That wasn’t right; she resented them for assuming she would just pick herself up and carry on as normal. It had shown her that she was really no more than an outsider, that her mum and dad didn’t really give her more than a passing thought. All they needed was each other.
‘I can’t answer that question, Mum. To be honest, he meant nothing to me. I wish I had realised that before. But what I do know is you and Dad don’t need me – you never did, Mum. I feel like you and Dad built this big lie, and it was all for my benefit. You never leave the house now unless you have to. I don’t feel like this is my home any more. Overnight I went from convent girl, with a perfect life, to no one. Everything I had ever believed in was stripped away, was destroyed. Dad even attacked Uncle Declan and put him in hospital. In a matter of days, I was thrust into your world, your vicious, violent world. I’m fifteen years old, Mum.’
Josephine Flynn was heart-sorry for her daughter, she understood what she was saying. But it was too late now, she should have said all this a long time ago.
‘I’m sorry to hear you say that, Jessie. You were always everything to me and your dad. I tried to be honest with you.’ Josephine finished her glass of wine and poured herself another. ‘When I was a kid, Jessie, my dad was put away for a long time. I spent the best part of my youth visiting him in Parkhurst. I didn’t like it, but I got on with it. My mum and me made his time bearable. We wrote, we visited. I had so many Christmases, so many birthdays without him, just me and her. We struggled without him, but we just got on with it. I didn’t rail at the world, but I missed him, God how I missed him. He was my dad. I remember the Filth coming round our house, tearing it apart, searching for evidence, being dragged out of my bed. They even slit open my mattress with a huge knife, in case he had hidden anything inside it. I can still remember the court case, my mum coming back from the Old Bailey every night, and pretending everything was all right. My heart was broken, but I knew, even then, as young as I was, that my mum needed me to be strong for her. So I was. But I know in my heart, that you knew about your dad, Jessie. You acting like it was all a fucking big surprise doesn’t wash with me. All your mates know about us and, even though that doesn’t make it right, it still makes me question why you would use it as an excuse to whore yourself out.’
Jessie pulled a chair out from under the table, and sat down beside her mother. ‘I was scared out of my life, Mum. I can’t believe you don’t understand how much that affected me.’
Josephine looked at her lovely daughter and, getting up slowly, she went to the nearest cupboard and brought another wine glass to the table. She poured her daughter a small glass of red wine, pushing the glass towards her roughly.
‘I do understand. I was there as well, remember? I protected us as best I could until your father arrived. You could have come to me at any time afterwards, but you didn’t. I trusted you, as I had always trusted you, and I was wrong. I know that now. Drink your wine. From what I understand you aren’t averse to alcohol.’
Jessie didn’t want any wine. She pushed the glass away from her.
Josephine watched her daughter carefully, before saying sadly, ‘Good girl. I knew you wouldn’t drink that now you’re sober. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’
Jessie didn’t answer her.
‘Do you know whose it is?’
Jessie’s usual arrogance came to the fore as she said haughtily, ‘What difference does that make now? I don’t want it. I’m only fifteen.’
Josephine sighed heavily. ‘A word to the wise, Jessie love; your father is capable of a lot of things, as you know, but he would never be party to an abortion. You’re carrying a life inside of you, girl, and we are Catholics. We celebrate a child. I think you need to remember that for the future. As the Bible says: as you sow, so shall you reap. The damage is done now, darling.’
Josephine opened up her arms and, as she hugged her young daughter tightly to her breast, she wondered at a God who could heap so much hurt on one household.
Book Four
Be not deceived, God is not mocked:
for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap
Galatians 6:7
For the wages of sin is death
Romans 6:23
Chapter Ninety-Two
2012