The Faithless by Martina Cole Read Free Book Online Page A

walls. And then there was the gas fire that popped all night long, leaving its residue on the walls and the doors, the constant noise of a radio or the TV, no real conversation unless it was about someone they knew, never about what was going on in the world. It was like being caught up in a soap opera, except the people in the soaps had personalities – this lot had nothing of any interest going for them at all. Her mother was bad enough. She spent her whole life smoking her fags, drinking her tea and living for the next episode of
Coronation Street.
Her mother knew more about Emily Bishop than she did about her own family.
    And now her sister was lording it up with a man who was a right Face, and a right earner. It was so unfair. If only she had used her loaf, waited a while, kept her options open. But, back then, she had been so
sure
about James. Now look where shewas; stuck in a vicious circle of debt with two kids hanging round her neck. If James had kept his part of the bargain she would have had a nanny, or at least an au pair, to take the brunt of the work off her. She closed her eyes in frustration. She had to work out a way to get rid of the house and still come out quids in. Once she sorted
that,
they could get back on track. If she left it to James, they would still be in that dump of a street when they were drawing their pensions – if she could stand him for that long.
    Now, here was Celeste, about to hitch up with a man who was obviously going places. It was like a kick in the teeth.
    Her father lifted his leg and broke wind loudly, and she pursed her lips, knowing it was for her benefit. Her father enjoyed her discomfort at what she regarded as common behaviour. If she wasn’t going to be so busy the next few days she would take Gabriella home with her just to teach him a lesson.
    ‘Here, Cynth, do you want to stay for your tea? Jonny’s coming round, and Jimmy Boy could come here as well. Be a nice family get-together.’
    Her mother was smiling as she said it, and Cynthia realised that she genuinely meant it. Still, she was going to refuse because seeing Celeste and Jonny together made her feel even more depressed than usual.
    ‘I would, Mum, but I’ve made arrangements . . .’ Her voice tailed off and she forced a smile. ‘Maybe another night, eh?’
    Mary nodded, wondering why she had bothered asking Cynthia in the first place. Mary Callahan could see that this daughter of hers was eaten up with jealousy about Celeste and Jonny, and she also knew why, though she wouldn’t bring it up in front of her husband. He’d love to go on about it, to use it as another stick to beat his daughter with. It was strange really because Cynthia had always been his favourite – until she was about thirteen. Then the fastidious ways that they had laughedat and her determination to act like the lady of the manor had ceased to amuse them. Jack had suddenly realised that his daughter was ashamed of him. Not only that, but she also despised him. Despised them all and wanted to be nothing like them. She had only stayed a Catholic because the nuns had beaten the religion into her, and it was the one thing she knew would cause a complete break from her parents. Jack Callahan was a lot of things, but he was a devout Catholic and there was no way he would countenance his daughter turning her back on her faith. And Cynthia, for all her airs and graces, was secretly frightened of having this front door closed on her once and for all. Mary could see that. And, deep down, she needed them more than they needed her.
    Cynthia saw a momentary flicker of sadness on her mother’s face, and stood up to put her coat on; she didn’t want or need her pity. Just because she wouldn’t settle for less than what she deserved didn’t make her a bad person. In Cynthia’s book it made her a winner, a fighter, a survivor. A council house and making do would never be her life, she was determined about that much anyway. She would sort out