Steven Golding tried to get out of the boot, and Michael Flynn hammered him over and over again until the man couldn’t move. Michael felt the man’s face collapse beneath his fists and he still didn’t stop battering him. He carried on hitting the man until he was completely spent.
He picked the book of matches up from the ground and tore off a match. Lighting it, he used it to ignite the whole pack, which he threw casually on to the man’s chest.
As the whole car went up in flames, Declan shouted, ‘What the fuck are you doing, Michael? Your car! What about your fucking car?’
Michael Flynn stood watching the man responsible for the vicious murders of his mother and daughter squirming and screaming in pain without blinking. Then he looked at Declan Costello and, laughing loudly, he said, ‘Relax, Declan, for Christ’s sake! I reported this car stolen hours ago.’
Declan went back into the Portakabin and came back with two large drinks. He handed one to Michael, and he stood beside him as Steven Golding was burned beyond recognition.
When the car finally blew they were both sitting side by side on the steps of the offices.
‘It’s over, Michael.’
Michael sipped his brandy, savouring the taste. ‘Do you know the worst of it for me now, Declan? I wish that cunt had been in the house that night. I wish I had burned him to death with his sisters and his mum and dad. So what does that make me?’
Declan put his arm around his friend’s shoulders and, sighing heavily, he said, ‘Human, Michael. Unfortunately, that’s what it makes you – human.’
Epilogue
The house of the righteous contains great treasure,
but the income of the wicked brings them trouble
Proverbs 15:6
Chapter One Hundred
and Forty-One
‘Nana looks different.’
Michael laughed at his grandson’s seriousness. ‘I know she does. She’s not well. But she’s getting better, that’s the main thing.’
Jake nodded, but he wasn’t so sure about anything any more. He knew his real mum was dead. He had seen her grave and she was buried with his great-nana Hannah. His granddad went to visit them a lot, and he sometimes went with him. It was funny thinking his mum was dead, up in heaven, but one of the nuns at school had told him that sometimes Jesus missed people so much that he called them back up to heaven early. He liked to think that was true, but he wasn’t sure if it was. His mum had been a bit of a cow – at least that is what his nana Josephine had used to say about her. Now his nana Josephine was in a hospital, and she acted very strangely. He could see her walking towards them, and Jake felt his heart sink inside his chest.
‘Here she comes, Jake.’
Jake could hear the false gaiety in his granddad’s voice.
Josephine walked across the grass towards her husband and her grandson slowly. The drugs were responsible for that; she couldn’t bring herself to break into a sprint these days. She sat down at the picnic table opposite her husband. He still looked so good, so very handsome. He got better looking as he got older; it was unfair.
Michael smiled at her. ‘You’re looking well, Josephine.’
But she wasn’t. She looked awful these days. She didn’t bother with her appearance any more. It was a good thing, according to her doctor. He wasn’t so sure himself.
She didn’t answer him. Instead she looked at Jake and, holding her arms out, she said sadly, ‘I could do with a hug, young man.’
Jake looked at his granddad and, when Michael nodded slightly, he went around the table, and allowed his nana to squeeze him to her tightly. When Jake finally managed to pull himself away from her, he went straight back to sit beside his granddad.
Josephine knew that she had been well and truly rejected by her grandson, but there was nothing she could do about it.
‘Really, Josephine, you do look much better. The doctor told me that you were finding it much easier to go outside. It’s wonderful to see you out here with us now.’
Josephine looked at her husband for long moments. He visited her twice, sometimes three times, a week and he seemed genuinely interested in her progress. But it was bullshit. She wasn’t stupid. She knew him better than he knew himself. He was just doing his duty. That was his trouble, he didn’t have a treacherous bone in his body. He was determined to divorce her, though, she knew that.
‘How are you, Michael? Good?’
He smiled gently. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. You know me, same old, same old.’
Josephine nodded in agreement. ‘I hear you’re having a right old time of it. Katherine Rourk, Danny’s daughter. I bet she could be your daughter, eh? She’s young enough.’
Michael didn’t answer her; it wasn’t any of her business.
She laughed nastily. ‘I still hear everything, Michael. I’m not fucking dead yet.’
He smiled back at her but his voice was steely as he said, ‘If you don’t watch your fucking mouth, that could be arranged sooner than you think, Josephine.’