Revenge by Martina Cole

natural decency about him, he was a straight arrow there was no doubt.
    ‘I need you to take out Terry Gold, Michael. He has to disappear off the face of the earth, and it has to be done as quietly and as unobtrusively as possible. No one can know that we were involved. This is just between you and me, no one else can ever know about it.’
    Michael was shocked, but he knew better than to show that. Instead he looked into Patrick Costello’s eyes. He could see the man searching his face for some kind of reaction. The air around them was suddenly heavy, full of menace. In this game, Michael was well aware he would be asked to prove his worth, his loyalty time and again. He couldn’t lose his nerve if he wanted to be a serious player in the Life. He had to show that he was capable of anything that might be asked of him. So he shrugged nonchalantly, aware that he had just made a life-changing decision.
    ‘Consider it done.’

Chapter Six
    ‘It’s got to be something you ate, Michael.’
    Josephine was genuinely concerned, and Michael hated that he had to lie to her. But ever since he had agreed to take out Terry Gold, he had been throwing up.
    ‘Yeah, you’re probably right, love.’
    Josephine placed a cold flannel on his forehead. It felt good, there was no doubt about that.
    ‘I’ll get you a cup of weak tea. You lie back and rest.’
    He nodded, but as he looked around her bedroom, he fought down the urge to vomit all over again. It was such a girly room with its pink paintwork and flowery wallpaper. Her kidney-shaped dressing table was painted white, and she had made pink satin curtains for it which hung in regimented pleats around the outside.
    She had actually done a really good job, but he hated it and the frills and the frippery that she lived with. She loved clutter – that was just one of her little foibles. He wasn’t used to it. His mother was not a feminine woman in that respect – his home had always been clean, unadorned and, in some ways, quite masculine. It had never occurred to him before but, whereas Josephine and her mum could spend hours deciding on a colour scheme or choosing a particular material, his mother had never really bothered herself with anything like that. He thought it might be something to do with the lean years they’d endured when Des was put away. They’d had so little for so long now they seemed never happier than when they were buying new bits and pieces. But it was all a bit much for him.
    As much as he hated Josephine’s bedroom in its girly glory, another part of him loved that she cared so deeply about such things. Her femininity was something that she gloried in and was one of the things that had attracted him to her. Josephine was a man’s woman. A natural carer, she wanted nothing more from her life than to be his wife, rear his children, and look after the home he would provide for them.
    He closed his eyes tightly, determined not to think about Patrick Costello’s request. It was one thing to kill without realising it – another entirely when you knew what you were doing.
    He heard Josephine come back into the bedroom. Opening his eyes he looked into her beautiful face, and he knew then and there that if he wanted to provide any kind of a decent life for her and his children, he had to man up and follow the path he had been offered. The path he had chosen.
    ‘Go and see the priest, Josephine, set a date for the wedding.’
    Josephine’s eyes were stretched to their utmost; he could see the joy that was such a huge part of her personality radiating from them. Josephine could find the joy in anything, she could find the good in any situation. She was a girl who always expected the best out of everything and everyone, and he wanted to make sure that was exactly what she would always get.
    ‘Oh, Michael, are you sure? What about your mum? You know she thinks we should wait.’
    Michael laughed. ‘Oh, sod my mum. We know what we want, darling. Sort it for next