Josephine Callahan was dressed to impress; from her long, thick blond hair, styled in the latest fashion, to her high-heeled stiletto shoes, she looked every inch the part of the girlfriend of a man like Michael Flynn. He expected her to look good when he took her out, and she understood why. He was making a name for himself, and he needed a girlfriend who was his equal. She had been seeing him since she was fourteen years old. He had been nineteen then, but the age difference had never bothered anyone. Now, at seventeen, she was his in every way that mattered. They were a couple, and engaged to be married. She could not have asked for anything more. They were a match made in heaven.
Josephine’s dad, Des Callahan, was a Face – not a well-known Face, not someone people were really scared of, but he wasn’t a mug either. He had done seven years for a bank robbery, and he had done it without complaint which had earned him respect. It hadn’t been easy for his wife and daughter when he’d been put away, though – without a regular income coming in they’d struggled, relying on the goodwill of his bosses. By the time he got out, Des had learnt his lesson. This time he planned for the future, putting his ill-gotten gains into legitimate businesses in case he was ever unlucky enough to get another serious capture. Her mum, Lana, now ran a café on the A13 and a betting office in Dagenham. They were both booming businesses these days, and her dad, although not exactly retired, was in a position where he could pick and choose his work.
Josephine was an only child, adored by both her parents, and now by Michael, who was everything they could have wanted for her.
Tonight he was taking her to a housewarming party at Patrick Costello’s. Patrick was Michael’s new boss and Josephine knew how important it was for her to be accepted by the Costellos too. She loved Michael so much – she was determined to make him proud of her.
Chapter Three
Declan Costello was already feeling drunk, and he was aware that his brother Patrick would not like it. He had been drinking since the early afternoon, even though he had known that he should have arrived at the party sober as a judge. But with the information he had learnt today weighing heavily on him, it was no wonder he felt the need to seek oblivion.
He could see Patrick’s wife Carmel frowning at him with her usual disgust, so he studiously ignored her. She was a royal pain in the arse, forever acting like she was something special. If she wasn’t married to his brother she would be in a council flat two minutes’ walk from her mother’s, like most of her mates. He had never understood what his brother saw in her. She was such a fucking snob and she had no real personality. Declan wasn’t exactly Mr Charisma, but at least he worked for a living. Carmel had nothing going for her except a pretty face and a large pair of knockers, end of.
Feeling her eyes on him, he decided to escape the party and made his way to Patrick’s office in search of his brother and another drink.
Opening the door, he was surprised to find Michael Flynn alone inside.
‘All right, Declan? Have you seen Patrick yet? He said he wanted a quick word. What a lovely drum, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place like this before in my life. It’s like something from a film.’
Declan grinned amiably. He liked young Michael Flynn. He was a good kid and talented at his job. Anyone who could put up with that ponce Jimmy Moore without trying to bail out had to have something going for them. Michael was the only person so far who had worked for Jimmy and not requested a move. Declan wouldn’t fancy Jimmy’s chances if it ever came to a straightener between the two, but he admired the lad for not rising to the bait. He knew his place, and that Jimmy wasn’t worth any aggravation.
His brother had great plans for this young man, and he was pleased about that. Patrick had a knack of finding people who were not only astute and willing to work, but were also willing to take the flak if the need should ever arise. His older brother had no intention of ever being banged up again.
‘That’s exactly what I was just thinking to myself!’ he lied conversationally. ‘It’s fucking handsome all right, Michael. Too much space for me, mate. There’s about twenty acres comes with this lot. I like to be in the Smoke personally. All this country air can’t be good for you!’
Michael laughed. Declan was clearly very drunk. He was a dangerous fucker if you weren’t careful but, if you used your loaf and kept on his good side, he was good company. Michael had learnt the importance of giving certain people their due. That was why he rarely drank more than a few drinks in certain company, and why he made it his business to always say something nice to the people who could influence his career.
He answered craftily, ‘I don’t know about that, Declan, but they do say the country air makes you randy. It’s all those fucking farmers’ daughters – all that space and not enough geezers.’
Declan roared with very loud laughter; he did like a dirty joke.
Unlike his brother, Declan had never married. He enjoyed plenty of female company, but never felt the desire for one woman above all others. He preferred variety. He used the women who came into his life, but he was good to them and, for the few weeks that they caught his attention, he lavished his money and time on them.