suddenly sorry for this woman, so deeply sorry 'Those two seem intent on doing what they want. He thinks the world of her, I can tell you that much. I've never seen him like this before.'
'She'll be tied down with a posse of kids before she's twenty, and by twenty-five she'll be worn out with child-bearing, and her future will be settled once and for all. But will she listen to me? 'Course not. When she's got a belly full of stretchmarks, and she's robbing Peter to pay Paul to get from one week to the next, she'll wish she'd listened to me, but by then it'll be too late.'
Veronica Murphy didn't answer her, she didn't know what to say. The truth, as she knew herself, often hurt. And this was one of those times.
----
Chapter Fifteen
Keith Kenton liked Phillip Murphy, and the knowledge surprised him. Not a man to be easily influenced, he normally took his time sussing people out. But this young lad had impressed him with his quiet demeanour, and his natural affinity for the work in hand. Every now and then, you were lucky enough to find a Phillip Murphy, and if you used your loaf you took them onside. Phillip had the rare ability to hurt people without a second's thought; he wasn't a fool, he just saw it for what it was, a job. Keith felt the boy's natural aptitude for the game, and he was willing to nurture it. Get them young, and you could shape them properly. It was the law of the pavement.
Keith was a big man, in stature and in personality. He was known for his ability to fight his way out of any situation, for being, like Bantry, a loner and, most of all, for his reputation as a ladies' man. Keith liked the fairer sex, and it was fair to say that they, for some unknown reason, liked him. Not the most handsome man in the world, he had over the years perfected the gift of the gab. He could talk a girl round in under fifteen minutes, and he had the respect of every man who knew him because of it. Women fell for him; his charm, his generosity, and his sense of humour never failed to get him an in. He was always on the lookout for a bit of strange. A new conquest. It was part of the game of life as far as he was concerned. Unfortunately, the women concerned all assumed they were the only ones in his life, and it was only a matter of time before they realised that he was a romancer. Until then, though, he made sure they had the time of their lives. Consequently, Keith was always trying to avoid some female. More often than not that person was his long-suffering wife Lorna who, for some reason, always ended up forgiving him and taking him back.
Phillip Murphy was impressed despite himself; some of Keith's birds were well fit, and so obviously out of his league looks-wise, you could only bow to the master. He could charm the proverbial birds out of the trees and, in his case, into his bed. Trouble was, once they had landed there, he lost interest in them. It was the chase that got him going. The capture, unfortunately for the girls concerned, was the beginning of the end.
So Phillip was getting an education that was two-fold: he was learning the pitfalls of juggling more than one bird at a time (something that in all honesty didn't appeal to him) and how to collect protection money with the minimum of fuss and the maximum of goodwill. Keith made the people he collected from feel that he was doing them a favour and, in his own way, he was. After all, if they still didn't pay up when he turned on his good-natured patter, he was capable of killing them if the need arose or if he needed to set an example. Any trouble in the premises he earned off was sorted within twenty-four hours, if not sooner. And the perpetrator was given a lesson that would stay with them for a lifetime.
Scars, according to Keith, did that to people - especially cowards. A cut face, or the loss of a few teeth, were a constant reminder of their stupidity and made sure that the offender never
'She'll be tied down with a posse of kids before she's twenty, and by twenty-five she'll be worn out with child-bearing, and her future will be settled once and for all. But will she listen to me? 'Course not. When she's got a belly full of stretchmarks, and she's robbing Peter to pay Paul to get from one week to the next, she'll wish she'd listened to me, but by then it'll be too late.'
Veronica Murphy didn't answer her, she didn't know what to say. The truth, as she knew herself, often hurt. And this was one of those times.
----
Chapter Fifteen
Keith Kenton liked Phillip Murphy, and the knowledge surprised him. Not a man to be easily influenced, he normally took his time sussing people out. But this young lad had impressed him with his quiet demeanour, and his natural affinity for the work in hand. Every now and then, you were lucky enough to find a Phillip Murphy, and if you used your loaf you took them onside. Phillip had the rare ability to hurt people without a second's thought; he wasn't a fool, he just saw it for what it was, a job. Keith felt the boy's natural aptitude for the game, and he was willing to nurture it. Get them young, and you could shape them properly. It was the law of the pavement.
Keith was a big man, in stature and in personality. He was known for his ability to fight his way out of any situation, for being, like Bantry, a loner and, most of all, for his reputation as a ladies' man. Keith liked the fairer sex, and it was fair to say that they, for some unknown reason, liked him. Not the most handsome man in the world, he had over the years perfected the gift of the gab. He could talk a girl round in under fifteen minutes, and he had the respect of every man who knew him because of it. Women fell for him; his charm, his generosity, and his sense of humour never failed to get him an in. He was always on the lookout for a bit of strange. A new conquest. It was part of the game of life as far as he was concerned. Unfortunately, the women concerned all assumed they were the only ones in his life, and it was only a matter of time before they realised that he was a romancer. Until then, though, he made sure they had the time of their lives. Consequently, Keith was always trying to avoid some female. More often than not that person was his long-suffering wife Lorna who, for some reason, always ended up forgiving him and taking him back.
Phillip Murphy was impressed despite himself; some of Keith's birds were well fit, and so obviously out of his league looks-wise, you could only bow to the master. He could charm the proverbial birds out of the trees and, in his case, into his bed. Trouble was, once they had landed there, he lost interest in them. It was the chase that got him going. The capture, unfortunately for the girls concerned, was the beginning of the end.
So Phillip was getting an education that was two-fold: he was learning the pitfalls of juggling more than one bird at a time (something that in all honesty didn't appeal to him) and how to collect protection money with the minimum of fuss and the maximum of goodwill. Keith made the people he collected from feel that he was doing them a favour and, in his own way, he was. After all, if they still didn't pay up when he turned on his good-natured patter, he was capable of killing them if the need arose or if he needed to set an example. Any trouble in the premises he earned off was sorted within twenty-four hours, if not sooner. And the perpetrator was given a lesson that would stay with them for a lifetime.
Scars, according to Keith, did that to people - especially cowards. A cut face, or the loss of a few teeth, were a constant reminder of their stupidity and made sure that the offender never
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