She looked at Cissy’s big moon face, tears still shining on her red-veined cheeks. Poor Cissy. They had been through a lot together over the years. She felt a huge surge of emotion as she looked at her friend. Then her eyes strayed to Bernadette and Marcus. A rather quiet and shocked Marcus. Briony was pleased to see them together again. Their two daughters cried quietly for their aunt and Briony studied them. Two more Cavanagh girls, with the same looks and mannerisms. It seemed that the Cavanagh looks were hard to stamp out. All her nieces and nephews had the unmistakable look of the family, even Liselle. They were strong women and men. Mustn’t forget the Cavanagh men.

The twins were broken-hearted. Briony watched them with a detachment she would have thought impossible a few days before. But some of the things Tommy had told her had changed her towards them. Oh, she knew she would get over the shock of learning about their sadistic ways, their vindictive assaults. They were her boys, no matter what they did. But she would like to think she could influence them enough to see the errors of their ways. She could try to change them.

Jonathan stood with the twins, his face grave. It had been good of him to fly over from Hollywood for the funeral. He had been a good friend over the years, and would continue to be for a long time.

She stared at the coffin, seeing Rosalee in her mind’s eye, smiling and clapping her hands, all those years ago in the basements, her chubby feet blue with the cold. Briony had sold herself to take them out of there, to give them all a better life, and the result was Eileen dead, Rosalee dead, and the new generation inheriting problems that were far worse than mere cold and hunger.

Was it all worth it?

It was a question she couldn’t honestly answer. Not now while her heart was laden down with this unhappiness, this terrible destructive unhappiness.

Only the future could answer that question. Only hindsight could give her even a glimmer of an answer. She would wait.

She had been waiting all her life for something, her natural son for one thing. A few more years wouldn’t make much difference.

BOOK FOUR - 1968

BOOK FOUR

1968

‘In trouble to be troubled is to have your trouble doubled’

- The Further Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe

Chapter Forty-one - 1968

Chapter Forty-one

1968

Delia smacked her daughter’s chubby leg hard. A deep red handprint appeared in the skin as if by magic.

‘You touch that once more, Faith, and I’ll hammer you.’

Faith looked at her mother and, lips trembling, put back the brightly coloured ashtray on Briony’s coffee table.

Briony put her arms out to the child and she climbed on to her lap, starting to cry now she had a bit of sympathy.

‘Auntie Briony, you ruin her!’