All that mess years ago had left its mark on them, and the seed of hatred that he had always felt for his elder daughter had grown into something much deeper. He hated feeling useless, hated that he was in no position to do anything for his family. Jonny paid for all their lives now, he had them in the palm of his large and treacherous hands and, at bottom, that was what really bothered Jack. He was helpless to do anything and, for a man like Jack Callahan, that was a terrible position to be in. But one day Jonny would get his comeuppance, of that much he was sure.

Chapter Forty-Four

Mary Callahan was watching her grandson James Junior as he gazed at the television. She liked to think she had a special bond with him, but she worried that he wasn’t right somehow. He could barely count to fifty, and he struggled to read the comics he bought by the dozen. He seemed to be away with the fairies half the time, and spent hours staring at the TV screen. Lately she had begun to wonder if he actually took in what he was watching. All he seemed interested in at the moment was getting a kitten. They couldn’t have one here – she was too old for all that palaver – and there was no way Cynthia would have one in that surgically clean house of hers. But it was all James Junior went on about. His schoolwork was clearly suffering, though she had a feeling he just couldn’t do it and that it was too advanced for him. He needed a private tutor or something.

Mary had broached the subject with Cynthia who had shrugged and said he was ‘as thick as shit’ and ‘he’ll snap out of it.’ At nearly nine, James Junior was larger than other lads his age, but he hardly spoke a word unless spoken to first. Unless he really wanted something – then he would pester and annoy everyone till he got what he wanted. Look at all that about the kitten. James had flown into such a rage when he was told he couldn’t have one. They had been amazed at the intensity of it. And the language! Kicking and spitting out filth the like of which she’d never heard before. Jack had eventually given him a good clump, and that seemed to have sorted him out. But again, the ferocity of his anger was all wrong, too deep and too hateful for a child of his age.