The Business Read Online Free Page B

for herself or was told by an outsider. Imelda knew in her heart that this was news that was best delivered swiftly, but it was still a terrifying prospect.
    As she walked down the stairs, she could hear her mother busying herself cooking the evening meal. She wanted to catch her while she was alone, wanted to spill the news of her downfall in private. Imelda was aware that her mother had a soft spot for her, and she instinctively knew that if she could talk to her alone now, her mother’s reaction would be to protect her.
    Entering the kitchen she smiled widely. ‘That smells lovely, Mum.’
    Mary Dooley glanced at her youngest child and immediately sensed that something was wrong. She had felt that there was something worrying her daughter for a while and now they were alone together she decided to try and find out what was the cause of her youngest child’s obvious unhappiness.
    ‘Sit down, child, and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.’
    Imelda did as she was bidden. Pulling a chair out from the large Formica table she sat down heavily, her heart aching and her body stiff with nerves.
    Mary poured them both a cup of tea and, sitting beside her daughter, she said heavily, ‘What’s ailing you, child? Are you feeling ill?’
    Imelda looked into her mother’s face. She was so like her, even she could see that. They were like twins born years apart. In her mother’s presence though, she could feel the heaviness of her breasts more acutely for some reason and knew that soon they would betray her. She was as fertile as her mother and she knew that would be her downfall. Because, unlike her mother, she had allowed herself to be used without the safety of a wedding ring.
    ‘Is anything bothering you, child, are you worried about anything?’
    Mary was genuine in her distress, was honestly worried about her daughter. It came across in her voice, in her gentleness, and in her expressive eyes. Eyes that seemed to tell her daughter that she was prepared to hear the worst, and unfortunately, the worst was what she was going to get.
     
    Gerald Dooley heard the screeching before he had even entered his house. This was an almost unheard-of occurrence, and his shock was exacerbated by his daughter’s language. His Imelda had never uttered a swear word in his presence in her life, so he knew that the harangue he was now party to was serious.
    As he opened the front door he kept his movements quiet, listening to his wife and daughter as they went at each other without care.
    ‘You fecking filthy little whore, you’d do this to me and to your poor father? What the fuck have I bred?’
    Imelda’s voice was as loud and just as angry as her mother’s. ‘Do you think I fucking planned this then? Do you think I did it to get one over on you? It was an accident, a bloody stupid accident.’
    As Gerald went into the kitchen he was amazed to see his little wife with the kettle in her hand, just about to throw it and its contents all over their daughter. It was like déjà vu. Only, he didn’t want his daughter scarred for life, no matter what she had done.
    Seeing her husband standing there, Mary Dooley immediately stayed her hand, and his daughter looked at him with wide, scared eyes and a defiance that, until then, he had only observed in her brothers.
    ‘What in the name of God is going on here?’ His loud voice stayed them both, even more than his actual presence.
    ‘I could hear you two down the street like a pair of fucking old shawlies going at it. What the neighbours must be thinking, I don’t know.’
    The last few words were enough to quieten down his wife; the neighbours and their opinions were the only thing outside of her family that she cared about. Her reputation was everything to her, and though others might bring their petty squabbles outside the front door, she would normally have died before doing the same thing.
    Taking a deep breath his wife looked at him triumphantly and said in a stage whisper, ‘Ask your