Josephine was unable to retaliate. As Michael looked at her he felt guilty. The colour had drained from her face; even with her make-up she looked awful. His words had finally hit home. He had needed to say what he really wanted to, just once. His anger at her utter selfishness was so voracious, he just couldn’t stop himself. He had been a good husband to her, no matter what she might think. He had gone along with whatever she wanted, always. Anything to make Josephine happy. And what had it got them in the long run? Nothing, that’s what. Sweet fuck-all. She had left the real world behind, and he had let her do it, even though he had known it was wrong. Now he would never forgive her.

Chapter One Hundred and Twelve

Chapter One Hundred
and Twelve

Jessie felt ill. She had eaten the food left for her so quickly, she now had chronic indigestion. She didn’t eat that much normally, but now she felt she should eat whatever she got, to keep her strength up, thereby making sure that, if it ever came to it, she could fight her own end. The man appeared to be immune to her charms and, as she had always used her feminine wiles to get what she wanted, she didn’t know how to deal with him. He wouldn’t talk to her for a start; in fact, he ignored her with such disdain it was an insult in itself. When he did look at her it was carefully, almost as if he was trying to get inside her head.

He was very nondescript, not very tall, and he looked to be well into his fifties. Although it was hard to tell in the dimness of the basement.

Even though she was still scared, she didn’t think the man was capable of harming her without provocation. She had lived around violent men all her life, and this bloke didn’t have the same feel to him as her father or her uncle Declan. They both had an air about them that warned you that these were men who would be capable of extreme violence, if the circumstances warranted it. Her nana Hannah, her father’s own mother, had happily told her everything she wanted to know about her father and, unlike everyone else in her world, she had not tried to sanitise any of it. She had listened to her nana Hannah’s stories. Even though she spent a lot of time with her, she had never really liked her; her nana Hannah was a vicious old bitch. But Jessie had needed her to tell her everything.

She looked at the man now and shouted angrily, ‘Talk to me! Don’t just fucking stand there staring at me.’

The man grinned at her for a few moments. Then he walked away, and she heard him leave the room, shutting the door behind him.