Assumpta knew that she had no option but to do as her father insisted. He had shown her how serious he was, and he was not going to change his mind. This child she was carrying meant more to him than it could ever mean to her. She hadn’t thought for a second that anyone in her family would welcome her pregnancy; she had banked on her parents wanting the child removed as quickly and quietly as possible. That her father, Patrick Costello, really believed in the sanctity of life had been something she had never thought possible. But she could not have been more wrong. The stories she had heard about him all of her life suggested the opposite. His capacity for great violence, the myths about his involvement in the death and the disappearance of people who had thwarted or challenged him, implied that her father was a murderer.

To now find out that this same man was adamant that abortion was unacceptable, was a sin against God, scared her. She had always assumed that his churchgoing was just another scam, nothing more than a public show, a pretence to make him look like a good, decent man. That her father actually believed in the Catholic Church, and its most basic of beliefs, forced her to reappraise her position.

But she had one last argument up her sleeve. One she hoped would cancel out everything else her father had said.

‘Dad, I have to tell you something.’

Patrick shrugged. He could be magnanimous now – he had won the war. ‘Go on, then.’

‘This baby I’m carrying might be black.’

Patrick could hear the hope in her voice. She genuinely thought that a black child might be enough to make him turn against everything he had ever believed in. This daughter of his would never cease to amaze him.

‘And?’ He made sure his voice was as nonchalant as possible.

Assumpta was rattled by his reply. ‘I just thought you should know, that’s all.’

Patrick laughed. ‘The fact you said “might” tells me all I need to know about you. But I couldn’t give a flying fuck if it was sky blue with pink spots. It’s going to be born and it will bear the Costello name. It will be my first grandchild and, as such, it will be given every opportunity I can provide for it and, hopefully, unlike its mother, it will have the brains to make something of itself.’