It was the right thing to say. Josephine smiled with pleasure at her words, and Hannah Flynn finally understood the reason her son loved this girl so much. She literally didn’t have a bad bone in her body. She felt a moment’s shame at the way she had treated her over the years. She had never given the girl a chance. She had always resented the way she had replaced her in her son’s affections. It was only Jessie’s birth that had softened her up. Now she saw the girl as she really was – a frightened young woman, who needed her kindness and understanding. She was a troubled soul, all right, and she needed help. Her Michael knew that and if Hannah had not been so selfish, so bitter, he would have turned to her for help. Instead he had protected the girl from her, knowing she didn’t have a great opinion of her anyway. For the first time ever, Hannah felt truly guilty.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Four

Michael held his hands out in a gesture of supplication. He knew that his late arrival would not be overlooked by Declan – tardiness was his pet hate.

‘I’m sorry, Declan, but I had to sort some stuff out at home.’

Michael looked immaculate as always; the man had clearly spent a long time on his appearance. It was Michael Flynn’s only vanity, he never looked anything other than perfect. Declan knew that his haphazard approach to life was the antithesis of Michael’s. Declan was getting larger by the month and he had never been what anyone would call a looker. Unlike Michael Flynn, however, he didn’t care about that. Michael, though, looked every inch the part of the well-heeled Face, from the expensive gold watch to his perfect haircut.

‘You know why I called this meeting, so let’s not fuck about, eh?’

Michael laughed at his friend’s attitude; only Declan would dare to talk to him like that – only Declan could get away with it. He shook his head slowly in mock disbelief. ‘OK, hold your fucking horses! It’s sorted, all right?’ He was being deliberately contrite, apologising without saying a word.

‘I’m gonna need a bit more than that, Michael, and you fucking know it.’

The smile was gone now, and Declan was reminded of just how hazardous confronting someone like Michael Flynn could be. Like Patrick, his late brother, the man was capable of literally anything if crossed. He would do well to remember that, even if he had the man’s respect and his affection.