Michael sighed heavily, forcing himself to be pleasant. ‘I really don’t know, Mum. But if you need the doctor, for example, or the fire brigade, you can call them. Now, if anyone rings for me, just take a message. I’ve left a pad and pencil by the phone, OK?’
She nodded, rolling her eyes angrily. She could hear her son’s growing impatience with her and it hurt her deeply. ‘Are you coming home at all tonight?’
Michael shrugged before saying testily, ‘I don’t know, Mum. I keep telling you, it depends on what I have to do. But look on the bright side for once, I can always ring you now, can’t I? Tell you not to wait up for me. I’m not a kid any more, Mum, for fuck’s sake.’
Hannah knew when to back off. She had always prided herself on understanding her son better than he did himself. Since he had been working for Patrick Costello, Michael had become a different being. He had grown up and away from her almost overnight, and her hold over him was all but gone. He loved her, she knew that, but he didn’t talk to her now, not like he used to. She knew hardly anything about his life outside the home, and that wasn’t going to change. Working for Patrick Costello was like working for MI5 by all accounts. She was not happy, but she knew when to retreat.
Forcing a smile, she said generously, ‘No, Michael, don’t be ringing me at all hours. You get yourself off, son, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
That was what he wanted to hear. Hugging her quickly, he left the house. As she heard his car pulling away, she closed her eyes tightly in frustration. He gave her so much, and she knew that she should be grateful for that, but he was all she had. With no husband or lover, he was her everything. She had devoted her life to him, and she felt that he owed her.
Nowadays, she was nothing more than the woman who washed and ironed his clothes, and provided him with a meal whenever he wanted one. He kept his own hours, and she never knew when she would see him. This was not what she had expected from him, but she had to tread warily. He was determined to marry that young Josephine and, now he was starting to earn, she realised it wouldn’t be long before he did just that.
She was losing her hold over him, and she couldn’t let that happen. Not without a fight anyway.
Chapter Five
Patrick and Declan were holding court in a public house near enough to the docks to make a good meeting place, yet far enough away so the meetings didn’t look dodgy. It was a great pub, and the Costellos were regular punters. Their main workforce were happy to hang out there and, as it wasn’t that big, it was also easy to keep an eye on the clientele, watch the comings and goings.
Michael walked into the bar just after nine. He was well dressed for the occasion, in a slim-cut, dark-blue suit, an outrageous lilac paisley shirt, open at the neck, and chunky gold cufflinks that had his initials etched on them. They had been a present from Patrick Costello and he wore them at every available opportunity.
His thick dark hair was still long, but it was now cut and styled professionally. Michael had always been aware that his good looks made women love him, and men admire him. As well as the looks and the build, he also had the added bonus of a nice disposition.
He made his way to the bar, and he was gratified to see that Patrick Costello already had a drink waiting for him. He caught sight of Terry Gold watching him intently, but he didn’t react in any way. Terry had not been pleased by the turn of events and Michael’s inclusion in the Costello inner circle; his nephew Jimmy had been his boss after all. Terry Gold was well aware of Jimmy’s business practices, robbing everyone he dealt with hand over fist. Michael knew that Terry Gold was probably wondering if he might have mentioned that to anyone of importance. He was insulted by the man even thinking that about him. As if he would do that! He wasn’t a fucking grass.
‘You’re looking sharp lately, Michael, I didn’t recognise you when you walked in.’
Michael laughed, but he was a bit embarrassed at Patrick’s words. He had changed in a lot of ways, but now he had money he could afford to look good. He felt he needed to dress as befitted his new station in life.
‘Do you like it? I got it in Ilford from some Jewish geezer. It’s the most I’ve ever spent on clothes in my life.’
Patrick laughed loudly. ‘You look the dog’s knob! All that old bollocks in the Bible about clothes don’t make the man – they fucking do! A nice bit of clobber makes you feel good about yourself. You can wear a suit well and all, boy, you’ve got the build for it.’
Michael didn’t know how to accept the compliment, so he took a large gulp of his whisky and soda. He had started drinking Scotch because the Costellos were whisky drinkers. But, if he was honest, he didn’t really like the taste.