‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mum, it’s just a telephone. Anyone would think we were living in the Middle Ages the way you carry on. I had to get a phone put in for work, OK? But you are more than welcome to use it if you want.’

Hannah Flynn could hear the underlying annoyance in her son’s voice. In the three months since he had started working for Patrick Costello he had changed drastically.

‘And who would I be calling on the telephone, I ask you?’

Her voice held a questioning note that irritated her son all the more. Anyone would think she had never seen or heard of a telephone in her life. It had never occurred to him until now how few friends his mother actually had. She was only forty-one; anyone would think she was in her dotage the way she carried on.

Michael sighed heavily, forcing himself to be pleasant. ‘I really don’t know, Mum. But if you need the doctor, for example, or the fire brigade, you can call them. Now, if anyone rings for me, just take a message. I’ve left a pad and pencil by the phone, OK?’

She nodded, rolling her eyes angrily. She could hear her son’s growing impatience with her and it hurt her deeply. ‘Are you coming home at all tonight?’

Michael shrugged before saying testily, ‘I don’t know, Mum. I keep telling you, it depends on what I have to do. But look on the bright side for once, I can always ring you now, can’t I? Tell you not to wait up for me. I’m not a kid any more, Mum, for fuck’s sake.’

Hannah knew when to back off. She had always prided herself on understanding her son better than he did himself. Since he had been working for Patrick Costello, Michael had become a different being. He had grown up and away from her almost overnight, and her hold over him was all but gone. He loved her, she knew that, but he didn’t talk to her now, not like he used to. She knew hardly anything about his life outside the home, and that wasn’t going to change. Working for Patrick Costello was like working for MI5 by all accounts. She was not happy, but she knew when to retreat.

Forcing a smile, she said generously, ‘No, Michael, don’t be ringing me at all hours. You get yourself off, son, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

That was what he wanted to hear. Hugging her quickly, he left the house. As she heard his car pulling away, she closed her eyes tightly in frustration. He gave her so much, and she knew that she should be grateful for that, but he was all she had. With no husband or lover, he was her everything. She had devoted her life to him, and she felt that he owed her.