Lost Angel (16 page)

‘I asked him to come,’ Johnny told her, having decided that he’d had enough of tiptoeing around the subject of his best mate. They’d had a right laugh tonight, and he felt a little bit like his old self again, so there was no way he was letting her criticise him back into submission.

‘That was nice of him,’ Ruth said tersely.

‘Yeah, it was,’ Johnny agreed. ‘But you can thank him when you see him, ’cos he’s coming round for dinner on Monday.’

‘You can’t just invite him round like that,’ Ruth blurted out. ‘You know how funny my mum is about anyone from outside the family coming to the house. And we’ve got the baby’s wake on Sunday, so she won’t want to see anyone straight after that.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Johnny replied smoothly. ‘Your mum’s got no say in who we invite round to
our
house.’

‘Eh?’ Ruth frowned. ‘How am I supposed to make dinner over there without a cooker? And where are we supposed to sit? On the floor?’

‘I thought I told you not to worry about it,’ Johnny said, grinning slyly. ‘Me and your dad have got it sorted.’

‘Meaning what?’

‘Wait and see. It’s a surprise.’

‘I don’t like surprises,’ Ruth snapped, desperate to know what was going on. ‘Tell me, Johnny. Or I’ll go and wake my dad up and ask him.’

Johnny’s good humour began to fade. He shouldn’t have said anything, but it was too late now. He doubted that she’d carry out her threat to wake her dad, but now that she knew he was hiding something from her she would nag him until he told her, and he was too tired for playing games.

‘Your dad’s mate owns a furniture warehouse down Cheetham Hill,’ he told her. ‘And we went over there this lunchtime and picked out a load of stuff. It was supposed to be a surprise but you’ve ruined it, so you can tell your dad why you’re not shocked when he tells you.’

‘You’d better be joking!’ Ruth spluttered. ‘That’s
my
house, and
I
wanted to choose what went into it.’

‘It’s ours, actually.’

‘You know what I mean. The woman looks after the house, so she gets to decide how to furnish it. It’s traditional.’

‘Yeah, well, we’ve created a new tradition,’ Johnny replied coolly. ‘It’s called taking the strain off the woman when she’s too ill to do it for herself.’

‘I’m not ill,’ Ruth moaned. ‘And it’s going to be horrible if my dad’s chosen what
he
thinks I’ll like. And you’re no better,’ she added accusingly. ‘Your room at Dave’s was disgusting. Nothing matched, and that bedside table wasn’t even proper furniture; it was just a dirty old box you’d found in a skip.’

‘It did what it was supposed to,’ Johnny informed her.

‘That’s not the point,’ she cried. ‘I wanted my house to be really nice and classy.’

Johnny had heard enough. He’d worked his arse off all day and night, and he was exhausted. But, more than that, he was pissed off that Ruth was being so ungrateful when he and Frankie had tried to do something nice for her. She might be feeling under the weather, but that didn’t give her the right to act like a spoiled little bitch.

‘Don’t turn your back on me,’ Ruth said when he did exactly that. ‘I’m talking to you.’

When Johnny pulled the quilt up around his head, making it clear that she was getting nothing more from him, she balled her hands into fists and gave a strangled cry of frustration. It wasn’t fair, and she felt like telling him to go back to the warehouse first thing tomorrow and cancel whatever he’d ordered.

But she knew she couldn’t do that, because it would offend her dad. And that would be unforgivable after he’d been generous enough to buy the house for her. So, however disgusting the furniture turned out to be, she would just have to smile and say thank you – and then replace everything bit by bit.

And at least she’d be free of her mother, at long last – and that was worth any amount of discomfort.

9

Lisa’s eyes were brown, but they were shining a deep envy-green as she entered her cousin’s new house on Monday evening.

She hadn’t seen much of Ruth since the wedding and would happily have kept it that way if she hadn’t been forced to attend the so-called wake for the baby that Ruth had lost – the baby none of them had even known about until then. Well, not for sure, anyway, although Lisa had suspected all along that Ruth was pregnant, because that was the only reason she could think of for a gorgeous man like Johnny to have agreed to marry her.

Lisa had never seen the point of mourning something that probably hadn’t even had arms and legs yet, never mind a face or a brain. An old person, yes. Even a kid that you’d at least had the chance to smile at before it snuffed it. But there hadn’t even been a coffin at this one, which just made it all the more ridiculous.

But that was the Hyneses’ way. If the baby had lived it would have been one of their own, so that made it worthy of grieving over as you would have done for a real person. And since her Uncle Frankie was one of only a few Hynes men who’d had the balls to break away from the poverty and come to England to make his fortune, while the rest had stayed firmly in their ruts back home in Ireland, it was important to him that the relatives who had followed him over came together on these occasions. Nothing short of being on your own deathbed was excuse enough to miss one.

So Lisa had dutifully donned her wailing weeds and gone along to pay her respects. Then she’d parked herself in a corner of Rita’s parlour and watched in disgust as her mum, aunts and cousins swilled their drinks and pretended to be sad. Her mum had been play-acting to the max but she’d never have admitted it in a million years, because she was Frankie’s sister and he as good as kept them – and God knew they needed whatever he threw their way, because they’d have been destitute if it had been left to Lisa’s useless father.

But that was another Hynes tradition: the men looked after their womenfolk, even after they got married. And their husbands – unless their families were from the same village – were classed as outsiders. Hence Lisa’s dad not being invited to the wake, despite having been married to her mum for twenty-odd years. But it was his own fault for being such a pathetic loser.

It hadn’t escaped Lisa’s notice, however, that Johnny already seemed to have done a pretty good job of getting his feet under the Hyneses’ table. Frankie might have started out by treating him as dismissively as he treated all the other outsider men, but he’d taken him into his business
and
brought him to live in his family home since then, so something had obviously clicked.

Still smarting about the way Johnny had humiliated her at the wedding reception, Lisa had been relieved when Ruth had decided not to talk to her afterwards: it would have tortured her to have had to visit their place and see them playing happy families. But that didn’t mean she’d given up on Johnny.

Quite the contrary.

He was the first and only lad who had ever knocked her back, and she refused to believe that he found Ruth more attractive than her. So she’d done some digging, determined to find out what made him tick, and it seemed that Ruth wasn’t even his usual type. According to his mates, Johnny usually went for sexy blonde girls with big tits and sassy mouths – girls just like Lisa, in fact. Which led her to believe that he probably
was
interested but was just too scared to do anything about it in case Frankie found out.

Aware that she must have scared him off by coming on too strong at the reception, she’d played it cool at the wake and had focused all her attention on Ruth instead; hugging her, and telling her how sorry she was to hear of her loss – even though she was secretly glad that her cousin’s rosy little world wasn’t so picture perfect after all. And the charm offensive had worked, because Ruth had invited her round to her new house for dinner – which had been a bit of a shock, because Lisa hadn’t even known that they were moving.

Foster Street was in the old, dirty, undeveloped part of Hulme, and Lisa had been praying that it would be some kind of decrepit fleapit, so she was disappointed to walk in now and find that – yellow walls aside – it was actually really nice. The warm glow from the lamp in the corner gave the living room a cosy feel, and Johnny and Dave looked right at home on the beige leather settee, watching football on a big colour TV with their beer cans on the glass coffee table in front of them. A mirror with an ornate gold frame was hanging on the wall above the fire, and a fluffy cream rug lay on the floor below it. And there was a shelf unit in the corner, already crammed with brass ornaments and crystal knick-knacks – most of which Lisa recognised from her Aunt Rita’s display cupboard back at the old house.

‘What do you think?’ Ruth asked, looking as pleased as Punch.

‘Nice,’ Lisa murmured, forcing out a smile.

‘Come through here while I turn the meat over, then I’ll show you round the rest of it,’ Ruth said, leading her through the dining room and into the kitchen.

Lisa stood in the doorway and gazed around as Ruth pulled on a pair of oven gloves and lifted a tray out of the oven. There was everything here that a woman could possibly need, and it sickened Lisa that Ruth’d had it all handed to her on a plate – and even more so that she was acting so cool about it, as if it were nothing less than she deserved. Spoilt bitch.

Ruth had her back turned to Lisa as she flipped the lamb over and basted it, but she could feel the envy coming off her cousin in waves, and that tickled her. She’d had no intention of inviting her round, and if her dad hadn’t pulled her to one side yesterday and told her to kiss and make up, Lisa would never have set foot through that door.

‘She’s blood,’ her dad had said. ‘And there’s not many of us left, so we’ve got to keep those who
are
still here close, especially at a time like this. So forget whatever shit went on between youse at the wedding and put it right – that’s an order.’

Ruth had sulked to start with, because she didn’t want to let Lisa back into her and Johnny’s life. But when she’d thought about it, she’d realised that she could turn it to her own advantage and had made a big show of apologising to Lisa before inviting her round to dinner. Not because she wanted to put things right with her – just so she could rub it in her face that she had everything that Lisa had ever wanted and would probably never get.

It had also been deliberate to invite her round on the same night that Dave would be here. Ruth knew they had split on bad terms again, and was looking forward to watching them squirm as they were forced to eat at the same table and make polite conversation. And they would
have
to make the effort, because it would be unforgivable to ruin her special night by arguing after she’d been gracious enough to invite them round – and so soon after losing her baby.

With any luck, Dave would feel so uncomfortable that he would eat and run – and never darken their door again. And Lisa’s jealousy would stop
her
from wanting to come back again, so that would be two birds slain with one crafty well-aimed shot.

‘Right, that’s almost done,’ Ruth said, turning back to Lisa when she’d put the tray back into the oven. ‘Can I get you a drink? Tea, coffee . . . ?’

‘Got any wine?’

‘Red or white?’ Ruth opened the fridge wide to display how well-stocked it already was despite the fact that they had only moved in a few hours earlier.

‘White,’ said Lisa, taking her cigarettes out of her pocket – desperate for a blast of nicotine to calm the sickening churning in her stomach.

‘Sorry, no smoking in here,’ Ruth told her before she had a chance to light up. ‘I’d have preferred everyone to go outside, but Johnny insisted on having a place to smoke so we’ve agreed that he can do it in the living room. But let me show you round first.’

A tiny smirk lifting her lips at the thought that Ruth and Johnny had already had a disagreement, Lisa followed her cousin upstairs.

‘This is the spare room,’ Ruth told her, waving her into the smallest of the three bedrooms, which contained a single bed and a chair – which was just about all she’d managed to cram in.

‘And this is going to be the nursery,’ she went on, leading Lisa to the second, marginally bigger room. ‘It’s empty, but that’s because I didn’t want to tempt fate by getting any baby stuff before the four-month mark.’

‘You’ve not got caught again already, have you?’ Lisa asked.

‘Not yet, but we’re trying.’

‘Is that safe? So soon after miscarrying, I mean?’

‘The doctor says it’s all right, so it must be,’ Ruth lied. ‘Just as well,’ she added with a secretive smile, ‘because Johnny can’t keep his hands off me.’

‘Really?’ A look of disbelief came over Lisa’s face, but she quickly removed it. ‘Well, that’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re still in the honeymoon period, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah, and it’s great. Really, really great,’ Ruth said wistfully.

It wasn’t easy to keep up the pretence of bliss when you knew it was a lie. After the shock of seeing the blood, and thinking that he’d been responsible for her losing the baby, Johnny had gone a bit funny about sleeping with her again. They still did it, but nowhere near as much as she wanted to. And she always felt like she was begging, which wasn’t very nice.

But there was no way she was giving Lisa the satisfaction of knowing that things were so strained between them. So, moving on to the next room, she opened the door and stood back.

‘This is our room.’

Lisa’s envy deepened. The king-size bed had fancy wrought-iron head and footboards, and a dusky pink satin quilt, dotted with little clusters of sequin flowers. Two plump pillows with matching cases sat side by side, and a mushy heart-shaped cushion nestled between them.

Opposite the bed there was a tiny white vanity table, the top of which already contained all Ruth’s perfumes and crap – all neatly lined up in true pernickety Ruth style, Lisa noticed. A dark oak wardrobe hulked in the alcove, and an old wicker chair on which a heap of teddies had been carefully arranged in height order sat beneath the window.

‘I see you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your friends behind?’ Lisa teased, remembering how Ruth had always taken the stupid things to bed with her and told them all her secrets as she was growing up – like they’d have been interested if they could actually hear her. ‘Bet Johnny won’t be too pleased to have them staring at him when youse are at it?’ she added with a dirty chuckle. ‘It’ll put him right off, that.’