He smiled amiably, unwilling to let this woman know that she had affected him in any way. ‘Well, Lana, that’s told me, all right. In future, I will keep my fucking trap shut.’
Josephine could sense the animosity coming not only from her mother, but also from her husband. He had every right to feel aggrieved. Her mother had no right to treat him as she did, to show her contempt for him, and the life he lived. He provided her with everything she could want and more. Josephine knew that she had to say something to her mother. She had to show Michael that she understood how he was feeling, that she was on his side, as she always had been and always would be.
‘That’s enough, now. I think it’s time you went home, Mum.’
Lana looked at her daughter in disbelief. She was being asked to leave, told to leave. It wasn’t a request, her daughter was aiming her out the door all right. It was a dismissal.
Michael smiled genuinely then. He was pleased that Josephine could see his point of view, understood how he hated it when her mother treated him with such contempt in his own home.
Lana felt her face flush with humiliation. Josephine treating her so shabbily hurt her deeply, but she couldn’t retaliate.
‘Come on, Mum, Dad will be wondering where you are.’
Lana walked out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster. In the entrance hall of her daughter’s home, she picked up her coat from the arm of the large leather sofa that was all but lost in the huge space that Lana had always admired. Her daughter’s home was not just big, it was also very beautiful, Josephine had the money needed for such a property. Michael had always given her daughter whatever she wanted but, even knowing that, Lana still couldn’t bring herself to forget what he really was or what he was capable of.
Josephine held the front door open, and Lana walked out of the house quickly. But she couldn’t resist one last jibe; she was so offended at the treatment she’d received, which she felt was so unfair. She wanted nothing more than her daughter’s happiness. Josephine was a lot of things, but she wasn’t happy. How could she be with a violent thug like Michael?
‘I can’t believe you are really doing this to me, Josephine. I would give you the world on a plate if I could and you know that.’
‘Oh, I do know that, Mum, I always have. But Michael is my husband, and he has already given me the world on a plate, in case you haven’t noticed. He has also given you and Dad a good earn. You’ve never been so well off. And if I have to choose between you both, you know it will always be him, Mum.’
Lana walked away. As she got into her car, she heard the front door close loudly behind her.
Michael hated seeing his wife so torn. He wanted to protect her from anything that might harm her. It was his job as her husband. He opened his arms and pulled her into them. He could feel her body relaxing into his, knew that she was where she wanted to be.
‘I’m so sorry, Josephine. I don’t know what that was about.’
She hugged him tightly, enjoying the feel of him, the smell of him. He felt so safe, so strong. ‘Oh, forget about it, Michael.’ She wanted to change the subject. Make it all go away. ‘How much does Patrick know about his daughters, do you think?’
He sighed in consternation. ‘I really don’t know. Declan told me about it in confidence. Patrick hasn’t said a dicky-bird – now I know why. If what your mum said is true, and I think it probably is, Patrick will have a hard time taking all that onboard. Who wouldn’t? He thought the sun rose and set with his girls. They were his reason for living. His kids, his flesh and blood.’
Josephine didn’t answer that. She hoped that her flesh and blood, this pregnancy, would finally come to fruition and give them the one thing they couldn’t buy. Just one child would be enough – that’s all she wanted.
‘I tell you this much though, Josephine. Whoever Assumpta names as the culprit will wish they had never been fucking born.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
Patrick Costello was practically hyperventilating, such was the vehemence of his anger. He knew he had to be alone for a while, so he had come into his office and poured himself a very large whisky. He sipped it slowly, savouring the strong taste, and the burn as he swallowed it down. He needed the alcohol to give him at least a modicum of inebriation, to take the edge off feeling too much.