Eileen felt she could sympathise with the woman now. She could hear the genuine sorrow in her voice. Coupled with the knowledge that Veronica was capable of giving her a serious clump should she feel the urge, Eileen Booth felt it best to retreat on this occasion and try and make some kind of concession. After all, this was the Murphys they were talking about, and their name was a byword for villainy and assertiveness around these parts. So sipping the tea she said sadly, 'I only wanted what was best for her, Mrs Murphy, and this is how she repays me? The treacherous little mare.'
This was more like it, this was language she could understand. Veronica flapped her hand in agreement. 'Sure, they all think they know what's best for them! But I tell you, if they only knew the truth of love and marriage, they would think twice about it. I know I would.' She was telling the woman what she wanted to hear.
Eileen Booth latched on to the woman's words as if they were a lifeline. 'That's what I've been trying to tell her. There's plenty of time for all that. She has a brain in her head, my Christine. She could make something of herself, make her life worth something. Ten years from now she could have the job of her dreams, the qualifications to take her anywhere she wanted to go in the world. But at the moment she just wants him, can only see him, him and his handsome face. And I mean that with no disrespect, but she wants him before she understands what life is really about. Before the disappointment and the regrets set in.'
Veronica sighed, suddenly sorry for this woman, so deeply sorry 'Those two seem intent on doing what they want. He thinks the world of her, I can tell you that much. I've never seen him like this before.'
'She'll be tied down with a posse of kids before she's twenty, and by twenty-five she'll be worn out with child-bearing, and her future will be settled once and for all. But will she listen to me? 'Course not. When she's got a belly full of stretchmarks, and she's robbing Peter to pay Paul to get from one week to the next, she'll wish she'd listened to me, but by then it'll be too late.'
Veronica Murphy didn't answer her, she didn't know what to say. The truth, as she knew herself, often hurt. And this was one of those times.
Chapter Fifteen
Keith Kenton liked Phillip Murphy, and the knowledge surprised him. Not a man to be easily influenced, he normally took his time sussing people out. But this young lad had impressed him with his quiet demeanour, and his natural affinity for the work in hand. Every now and then, you were lucky enough to find a Phillip Murphy, and if you used your loaf you took them onside. Phillip had the rare ability to hurt people without a second's thought; he wasn't a fool, he just saw it for what it was, a job. Keith felt the boy's natural aptitude for the game, and he was willing to nurture it. Get them young, and you could shape them properly. It was the law of the pavement.
Keith was a big man, in stature and in personality. He was known for his ability to fight his way out of any situation, for being, like Bantry, a loner and, most of all, for his reputation as a ladies' man. Keith liked the fairer sex, and it was fair to say that they, for some unknown reason, liked him. Not the most handsome man in the world, he had over the years perfected the gift of the gab. He could talk a girl round in under fifteen minutes, and he had the respect of every man who knew him because of it. Women fell for him; his charm, his generosity, and his sense of humour never failed to get him an in. He was always on the lookout for a bit of strange. A new conquest. It was part of the game of life as far as he was concerned. Unfortunately, the women concerned all assumed they were the only ones in his life, and it was only a matter of time before they realised that he was a romancer. Until then, though, he made sure they had the time of their lives. Consequently, Keith was always trying to avoid some female. More often than not that person was his long-suffering wife Lorna who, for some reason, always ended up forgiving him and taking him back.
Phillip Murphy was impressed despite himself; some of Keith's birds were well fit, and so obviously out of his league looks-wise, you could only bow to the master. He could charm the proverbial birds out of the trees and, in his case, into his bed. Trouble was, once they had landed there, he lost interest in them. It was the chase that got him going. The capture, unfortunately for the girls concerned, was the beginning of the end.
So Phillip was getting an education that was two-fold: he was learning the pitfalls of juggling more than one bird at a time (something that in all honesty didn't appeal to him) and how to collect protection money with the minimum of fuss and the maximum of goodwill. Keith made the people he collected from feel that he was doing them a favour and, in his own way, he was. After all, if they still didn't pay up when he turned on his good-natured patter, he was capable of killing them if the need arose or if he needed to set an example. Any trouble in the premises he earned off was sorted within twenty-four hours, if not sooner. And the perpetrator was given a lesson that would stay with them for a lifetime.
Scars, according to Keith, did that to people – especially cowards. A cut face, or the loss of a few teeth, were a constant reminder of their stupidity and made sure that the offender never saw fit to repeat his actions. Keith had a way of making it perfectly clear that a second offence would not be tolerated. As he explained to Phillip, it was the principle as far as he was concerned; he would not allow anyone to cause him the aggravation of having to look for them more than once. By then all his goodwill was used up, and all that he had left was the need for retribution.
Phillip Murphy was soaking it all in like a sponge. This was a whole new world to him, and he loved it. Every second of it. As his father said, he had started at the top, with the best, and there was only one way for him to go, and that was up. He liked Keith and his attitude towards life, and he liked working with him. He knew that Keith respected him. He also knew that Keith understood his association with Bantry, and respected it. Keith did not suffer fools gladly, so his relationship with his mentor could only enhance him and his chosen career.
Life was pretty good. Things were going well with Christine too. This feud with her mother couldn't be better; he was sure that if he sat it out Eileen would drive her daughter even further into his arms, thereby giving him exactly what he wanted. It was criminal really, how easy it was. He had her dad onside now as well; he was providing him with certain alcoholic beverages that were making him a very good profit, which made Phillip indispensable to him.
She was going nowhere, his Christine, she was his, and he would make sure that everybody knew that eventually. She was the only one he wanted and he had his pick of strange. But he had no feelings for anyone else. Unlike Keith, now he only had eyes for his Christine. He mustn't hurt her, or chance driving her away. She was his all.
Christine was, in actual fact, like an illness with him; without her in his life he didn't know how he would cope. She was like a cancer, eating away at him, and he knew deep inside himself that it wasn't natural to feel so strongly, and so intensely, for another person. It wasn't natural to want someone so desperately, but he would happily kill to keep her beside him. His feelings for Christine were so overpowering they even frightened him at times. The thought of being without her was enough to make him feel suicidal, not that he let those emotions show. He knew only that she was his, would always be his, and he would ensure that she stayed by his side – no matter what.