Daniel Bailey watched as his wife practically bowed in reverence to the priest, and he had to fight the urge to punch him as hard as he could in the face. He knew this man drank with Peter, visited his brother’s house regularly, and worked with him closely for charities. Peter had given the money needed for a boxing club and for a trip to Lourdes for the poorer parishioners, had seen to it that the people who couldn’t afford it had been able to go and pray to God to ease their suffering. All bollocks, as far as Daniel was concerned. His brother did it for personal gain, no other reason. Saint fucking Peter, his mother’s golden boy, and all round fucking good guy. When he gave money for the various causes – and he gave serious money – no one said a fucking word about it! Except Tania’s school that is – the nuns there knew which side their bread was buttered on. Tania had been Mary in the Nativity play, he had made sure of that.

But this ponce here looked down on him. At least Daniel’s presence unsettled him, that was something. Unlike Lena, he wasn’t enamoured of the Church – he saw it as another fucking business, a scam. But his mother and his wife saw it as a way of life, and he understood that he had to swallow because of that. He knew how to play the game, and at least this man afforded him some pleasure in as much as he got the satisfaction of taunting him with his presence.

He held his hand out and, smiling, he said pleasantly, ‘Good day to you, Father, we are so looking forward to our little Tania’s Communion.’

Father Murphy shook the man’s hand, and prayed that this meeting would be over quickly.

Lena beamed with happiness; she loved to see her husband in the church, it helped calm the fears she had for his eternal soul. Father Murphy understood her feelings, she was convinced of that. She knew that he was a man who saw a lot more than he let on, and was willing to go the extra mile for the people in his care. He was a man not only of good values, but also of discretion. He heard her Daniel’s Confession regularly, and knowing that helped her sleep at night.

Chapter Forty-Two

‘Tell me you’re fucking joking, will you!’

Davey Bailey shrugged. At twenty-three, he was now a big man and, like his brothers, he was firmly entrenched in the family businesses. ‘I’m not joking. For fuck’s sake, Danny, you of all people, must have seen it coming?’

Daniel Bailey Junior sat down heavily, jarring his spine with the action. He looked around the office as if he was trying to find an escape route.

‘He’s a fucking nutcase, Danny, I was fucking gobsmacked. Couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.’