“Don’t worry, mate,” Liam reassured me, with a pat on the back, “by the time we’re done with it, it’ll be Buckingham Palace.”
I grinned, picturing it in my mind all finished and seeing Em’s face as I carried her over the threshold of our first real home. “Listen, I know you guys all have jobs and your own training to worry about, but do you think you could give me a hand with the labor? There won’t be any money left to pay anyone, and I’m going to need help with this.”
“I’ll redo the central heating for five minutes alone with your wife and one of her chocolate cakes,” Tommy volunteered. Kieran, punched him in the arm for me.
“What? It would’ve hurt a lot more if he’d done it!” he said in response to Tommy’s wounded expression.
“It’s a good buy,” Liam told me. “Property is a good investment so at least you know your money is safe. Plus you’ll save rent on your crappy place. You do realize though that you could have the same size place with much less hassle if you bought flat.”
I looked up wistfully toward the house. “I know,” I answered, “but I don’t want a flat. I want a place that’s mine from the roof to the foundation. I want a home.”
Kieran nodded, knowing exactly what I meant. I spent what I guess would pass as my childhood bouncing between the haven of Kieran’s ma’s house and the pit that was my alcoholic mother’s house. Em’s shithole flat was the nearest thing I’d had to a home, but that was only because she was there.
Liam looked over the house with a careful eye, and I hoped he could see the potential that I could. Of all of us, he was the most experienced in construction. When I’d worked full-time, I did mostly carpentry. Kier was a general builder like Liam, while Tommy worked in plumbing and heating with his dad.
“We’ll need to find an electrician,” Liam pointed out. “This place is definitely going to need a rewire.”
“How about Big Joe? I’ve worked with him before, and he’s bloody good. I hear he’s looking for a new gym as well since Joe’s burned down. If we could talk Danny into letting him train at our place, he’d probably give us a good deal on the electrics,” Kieran suggested.
“Wait, didn’t Tommy fuck and dump his sister?” I asked.
“Who’s Big Joe’s sister?” Tommy said. Though I wasn’t sure a first name would help him pick her out of the sea of women he’d slept with.
“Evelyn. Wasn’t that the redhead you met in Brady’s? The one who acts like you’ve got some nasty venereal disease whenever you see her, which you probably have,” Kieran told us helpfully.
“Wait. I didn’t fuck her, and I don’t have VD.”
“Yeah, try telling John that when we’re doing up Con’s house together,” Liam chuckled.
“Fuck. Can’t you find someone else?” whined Tommy.
“We’ll see,” I told him, though I liked the idea of working with someone who would keep Tommy’s mouth in line. “If you didn’t sleep with her, why does she hate you?” I asked.
“None of your fucking business,” he returned.
Now I was intrigued. Usually Tommy didn’t give a crap who knew his business. This girl must be special if he was clamming up. I shrugged like I wasn’t interested. I’d just ask Em about it later. She’d get it out of Tommy soon enough.
*
An hour later everything went to shit. I’d stopped by our place to grab a snack before going to collect Em from the cafe. Out of habit I emptied the mailbox but as soon as I saw the brown padded envelope I knew it was another gift from Frank. It was addressed to Em but I tore it open anyway. Out fell a polished wooden box and I opened it to see a diamond ring that looked pretty fucking expensive. In with it was another typed note that simply read:
I WAS SAVING THIS FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY
I never made it up the stairs. Slamming the box shut I headed straight for the police station.
*
“Tell me you’re fucking joking,” I said to the pale-faced policeman opposite me.
“Please don’t swear, Mr. O’Connell. We’re on the same side you are, but there really isn’t anything we can do. The hallmark on the ring tells us who made it, but we’ve telephoned the company and they sell thousands of these rings every year. They keep track of sales but not who purchased each individual product. We can test the box for fingerprints, but given that Mr. Thomas’s fingerprints didn’t appear on the letters you’ve brought it, it’s unlikely that we can trace this back to him.”
“So he can just get away with harassing my wife like this?” I shouted.
“If you can get some proof that the harassment can be traced back to Mr. Thomas then we can assist you in taking out a restraining order, but that’s really all we can do. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to refrain from telling him to go fuck himself.
“Can you test it for prints anyway, please?” I said finally.
“Of course,” he agreed, taking the ring box back. “I’ll let you know if we find anything.”