Revenge by Martina Cole Read Free Book Online

laughed. Declan was clearly very drunk. He was a dangerous fucker if you weren’t careful but, if you used your loaf and kept on his good side, he was good company. Michael had learnt the importance of giving certain people their due. That was why he rarely drank more than a few drinks in certain company, and why he made it his business to always say something nice to the people who could influence his career.
    He answered craftily, ‘I don’t know about that, Declan, but they do say the country air makes you randy. It’s all those fucking farmers’ daughters – all that space and not enough geezers.’
    Declan roared with very loud laughter; he did like a dirty joke.
    Unlike his brother, Declan had never married. He enjoyed plenty of female company, but never felt the desire for one woman above all others. He preferred variety. He used the women who came into his life, but he was good to them and, for the few weeks that they caught his attention, he lavished his money and time on them.
    ‘I never thought of that, young Michael! I better get around the local pubs, have a look at the strange on offer. Now, where is that lovely little girl of yours?’
    Michael was pleased at the compliment; she was a real looker was his Josephine. She was a cut above the usual girls and he knew that.
    Before he could answer, the door to the office opened wide and Patrick Costello made a grand entrance.
    ‘Hello, boys, how’d you like my new house then?’ Patrick looked expectantly from Michael Flynn to his brother.
    Michael was about to speak when Declan broke in furiously with, ‘You had to do it, didn’t you, Pat, eh? I asked you not to and you still did it.’ Declan suddenly looked fit to be tied.
    Patrick Costello didn’t reply.
    Michael just stood there, unable to say a word. He didn’t know what it was about anyway. It was the first time he had ever seen Declan so angry, and it seemed that Patrick sensed that as well. This outburst had come out of nowhere.
    ‘The whole Golding family are dead, burnt to death in their beds. Except for the son – it seems he was staying overnight at his mate’s. Two little girls died though. Twelve and fourteen. How must you feel, Patrick? All that mayhem for five hundred quid.’
    Michael Flynn felt physically ill.
    ‘It wasn’t anything to do with me, Declan. I can only assume the man owed other people money. Let’s face it, he was a fucking ponce.’
    Declan laughed at his brother’s arrogance. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are, Patrick, eh? Well, remember, things like this have a nasty habit of coming back on you. It’s called karma. And no matter what you say, how much you might deny it, I know this was your handiwork.’
    He stormed out of the room.
    Michael Flynn looked at Patrick Costello. Michael was white-faced, ashen, knowing that he had been the one who had caused such carnage.
    Patrick shrugged. ‘Hard lines, son. Typical fucking Golding, though, lying about his whereabouts as usual.’
    Patrick could see the terror on the lad’s face and, pouring him a large brandy, he gave it to him, saying, ‘Get that down you, son. You’re in shock. But no one knows the truth except us. These things happen occasionally. Shit happens.’
    Michael gulped down his brandy.
    ‘The man lied to me, Michael. He said they were all going away for a few days.’ He sighed heavily. ‘What’s done is done, son. Just make sure we keep it close to our chests, OK?’
    Michael nodded. He didn’t know what else to do.
    ‘I have explained the downside of the business to you, and now you are finding it out for yourself. Take my advice, son: if you want to get on in this game, you need to learn how to tune out the shit you don’t need. It’s a fucking tragedy, but if Golding hadn’t been such a lying cunt, none of this would have happened.’
    Michael was nodding, desperate to believe what the man was saying.
    Patrick looked into Michael’s eyes, and he said warily, ‘If this is all too