He opened the door and two youngish policemen came into the flat, removing their hats.

Jesus, here it comes . . .

‘Mr Connor Flynn, is it?’ asked one of them.

‘Yeah, that’s me.’

‘And this is . . . ?’ They looked at Aysha.

‘My sister.’

The policeman who’d spoken first said: ‘I’m sorry, sir, miss . . . we have some bad news.’

And then he told them the shocking news.

Their mother, Shauna Flynn, was dead.

165

165

Six months later . . .

Finally it was time for Dad’s headstone to be installed. The mason said the ground was settled enough, and that they were doing it today. If Connor wanted to come tomorrow, see the finished article in place, then that would be fine.

Connor made two calls and then he drove down to the cemetery, walking along in the sunshine until he reached the area where the gypsy graves were situated.

There, he stopped and stood in front of Dad’s big black granite headstone.

JOSH ‘FEARLESS’ FLYNN

KING OF THE GYPSIES

NEVER FORGOTTEN

was picked out in gold Gothic script. Carved beside his name was a pair of bare-knuckle fighters, arms raised defensively. Dad was dead and gone. Mum too. Hard to take in. But he had to. Shauna wasn’t at rest in the Flynn plot, though: she was in with the Everetts.

Then Benedict and Aysha arrived. Aysha looked well now; she’d been shattered these past few months after hearing about Mum’s suicide. It had hit her the hardest, but Connor thought, shocking though it was, it had worked out for the best. Had Shauna lived, she would have done a lot of time in prison for the murders of Ciaran and Rowan Cleaver, and that wouldn’t have suited her at all. Mum had been a wicked woman. He knew that now, and accepted it. Poor Dad had been worth a hundred of her.

‘I’m not mad at Dad any more for trying to find some happiness with someone else,’ said Aysha as the three of them stood there staring at the headstone. It was magnificent; awesome.

Connor sent her a glance. ‘No?’

‘After what you told me about Mum and those fucking hillbillies? After all she did, and all she wanted them to do? No. I don’t know how the hell Dad got hooked up with her, but I do know he was sorry he did.’

‘Sod all we can do about any of it now,’ said Connor. Aysha had been sickened when he’d filled her in on what Shauna had done to Claire, and she had softened toward Claire and her daughter as a result, outraged at their mistreatment. The Henley house was up for sale now; the proceeds would be split between Connor and Aysha, and he was looking forward to the day when it was off their hands for good. Neither of them wanted to keep it. First and last, it had been Shauna’s house, not Josh’s, and not theirs.