“An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind”
~ Mahatma Gandhi
1
Kate threw her mobile down onto the sideboard.
Why wasn’t he picking up? It’s gone two thirty, please God, answer your phone, she thought.
Kate went back to picking up the shards of glass from the grubby kitchen floor. There was always some domestic going on down this street, no matter what time of the morning it was. The neighbours were very good at pretending to be deaf when they needed to. Getting involved would be more than their lives were worth, and they were all very much aware of that. This morning’s shenanigans had been a little more eventful than most, thanks to her brother and his infamous bad temper. Kate wrapped all the bits of broken glass up in newspaper before carefully putting it in the bin: wouldn’t want anyone to get cut. She knew that there would be enough bloodshed to come. Billy would make sure of that. When he lost it, he really lost it, and tonight she feared would only be the beginning of her troubles. He had gone mental, worse than she had ever seen him. She had never had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of his temper until now, and she had watched horrified as he had smashed and thrown everything and anything he could get his hands on. She had even thought at one point that he was really going to hurt her. She had seen Billy kick off loads of times, but this was the first time that she had been the direct cause.
Billy O’Connell was a big bloke, six foot two and built like a brick shit-house as some would say. Intimidating was an understatement, he was one of the most feared men this side of London. Feared but also respected. He was only a year older than her but it may as well have been ten years the way he carried on, always thinking that he knew best and that it was his right to know all her business. Kate should have guessed that he was going to react like this, it was stupid of her to think otherwise, but surely he would see it through her eyes, surely one day he would accept how happy she was.
He had seemed in such a good mood when he had got home, and Kate had forced herself to tell him. She had been making herself physically sick all day by bottling it all up inside. It would only be a matter of time before somebody told him, knowing what this lot round here were like. It is better coming from me, she had thought. They had been sitting together at their little kitchen table and she had fetched him a whisky, thinking it would soften the blow a little. Boy, how wrong she had been!
Now she was once again alone in the house, Kate slumped down on one of the only chairs that had escaped being broken into pieces. She placed her head in her hands, and she prayed that Billy wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.
She just couldn’t understand how he could have been so angry, so disgusted with her. She grimaced as she went over the night’s events in her head. There would have never been a good time to tell him, though, she thought, and it hadn’t helped that he’d been out drinking with his pathetic cronies all evening. She hadn’t seen him looking so chirpy in ages and it had seemed like the perfect time. He had been telling her all the funny things that he and his mates had been up to that evening in The Dog, the local pub that he and his friends ‘invaded’ most weekends. They had spent most of the evening winding up the pretty new barmaid on her first shift. Really laughing, he was, as he told Kate of the night’s events. She reasoned with herself that he would eventually come round to it all, and that now was a good a time as any. Slowly plucking up a little more courage, she thought: it’s now or never.
“Billy,” she said quietly, feeling her nerve go as soon as her mouth opened but realising there was no going back now. “There’s something you should know.”
She watched him take another swig of his drink; whisky was his favourite, it always took the edge off. He was drinking more and more lately, not that anyone would have the balls to mention it to him: or not to his face anyway. As she sat across from him, she was aware, as always, of how much she reminded him of their mother, Kate had the same blonde hair and piercing blue eyes as she had, God bless her soul.
Poor old mum, she thought, what a struggle her whole life had been, their old man had upped and left when they were just babies, leaving their mum to struggle with not a penny to her name. Same story with most families nowadays, but back then it was a bit of a stigma, the nosey old neighbours, with nothing better to do but gossip and look down their noses at her. Their husbands may be useless pieces of shit drinking away most of the money, but at least they had husbands: what a joke. Her mum had never let any of that bother her, though: “Mindless people with meaningless lives” she’d say. She was what you would call ‘old school’, a real tough cookie. She had more important things to worry about, like keeping the debt collectors from the door and putting food on the table for the only two people that mattered in her life, Billy and Katie, her pride and joy. Kate’s mum may have been a tough lady, but she had a heart of gold where her kids were concerned. There was nothing that she wouldn’t give them, and she always had time for them. Even when she was up to her tired, lined eyes with worry, she always had time to sit and listen to them. Kate felt saddened at how Billy had acted back then, bringing aggravation to their door on an almost daily basis. He had been a nightmare as a teenager, and she cringed now just thinking about some of the things he had said and done. You don’t realise the hurt and pain that you cause at that age, she guessed. All he seemed to think about back then was his main priorities, his mates and making a name for himself, which he certainly had now. He had definitely taken their mum for granted, Kate thought. Kate had always tried to be the peacemaker, always trying to smooth things over for Billy. Even though there had been times their mother had seemed genuinely upset and angry with Billy for all his getting up to no good, Kate knew deep down that their mother had always loved him very much. She just wished that he would realise it too, instead of always feeling guilty. There was no use feeling guilty, she thought sadly, Mum was at peace now. It was hard for Kate to believe that it had been almost a year since she died.
Knocking back the last of the whisky, Billy glanced up at his sister. When the time was right, Kate was going to make somebody a really great little wife, he thought; she would often have him a nice dinner on the table if and when he chose to come home, and she kept the place nice and tidy. She was a real homemaker. He never really returned the favour in that respect, but he was sure she knew that he appreciated it, deep down. He was paying the mortgage, after all, it’s the least she could do really, he justified. Kate had been acting a bit shifty tonight though, Billy thought, and looking closer he could see that she looked really knackered. He could see bags under her eyes and that she was deathly white-looking, too. Something was definitely up.
“Billy, listen,” Kate’s voice was almost a whisper as she tried to get her words out. Something in her tone had him feeling wary now; the whole mood in the room had changed, and he could feel the tension in her voice – or was it fear?
“Go on,” he pressed.
“Well, you see, it’s... well… it’s just that… I’ve met someone… I’ve got a fella... and he makes me really happy….” She was babbling; she could feel the words tumbling out without really thinking first.