for six months. My only ally, my Tilda, and that fat git didn’t even remember she’d passed away. They’re selfish, my lot. They come in this very kitchen with their bags of washing, their tans glowing from their holidays abroad, and then they slap down their shitty clothes for me to scrub. And as for Scottie, I know he has money, and yet he still goes through my purse and nicks me pension. That ain’t right, is it? You wouldn’t do that, would you?’
Mike had a sudden thought.
‘Don’t they offer to take you on holiday? I always make sure my mum has a good two-week break away somewhere nice.’
‘Ha, my kids have never even offered to take me for a Sunday lunch somewhere nice, let alone a bleedin’ holiday. I ain’t been away since I went to Bath with me sister, what, four years ago now.’
‘That’s not fair, is it?’ He softened his gruff voice.
‘Life ain’t fair, love. I should know,’ she replied, taking another sip of her tea. She looked up at him. ‘D’ya treat ya mum on her birthday an’ all?’
Mike smiled. ‘Yeah, I do, every year. I drive my mum to a place called Rye. It’s beautiful, with cobbled streets and views as far as the eye can see. She loves the little tea shops, the antique shops, and the fish and chip shop. She stays in my seventeenth-century cottage and just enjoys soaking up the atmosphere.’
Doris was staring off into space. ‘Ahh, it does sound wonderful. She must be so proud of you.’
‘Well, I tell ya what. Why don’t you go and pack a little suitcase and I’ll treat you to a nice stay in the very same cottage? Call it a birthday treat, seeing that your own boys haven’t seen fit to spoil ya.’
She blinked and came out of her daydream. ‘What? Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly. Besides, I don’t even know you, and, well, I was just having a moan, really. ’Ark at me, chatting away, and you being all nice, an’ all. Suppose you’re really ’ere to bash me boys? Anyway, what have they done now?’
Mike sighed. He wanted to get the dear old lady away from the potential scene of a bloodbath. ‘Yes, Mrs Harman, I’ll probably give ’em a clump, but, really, I just want a word. They did something unforgivable, I’m afraid. In fact, it was very cruel.’
Doris nodded, genially. ‘Sounds like them.’ She stared at Mike and frowned, as her head slowly tilted to the side. ‘Are you by any chance related to Arthur Regan?’
Mike sat up straight. ‘Why?’
Her eyes seemed to drift off again. Maybe it was her escape to another time or another place. ‘You just remind me so much of him, that’s all. Now, he really was a gentleman, but he was a rogue, all the same.’
‘Knew him well, did you?’
Unexpectedly, the tears in Doris’s eyes welled up. ‘Yes, I did. He was the love of my life, he was, before Frank came on the scene. Oh, ’ark at me. Never mind. It’s all in the past.’
His mind now all over the place, Mike felt his heart beating fast. Could this woman, the mother of his archenemy, have once had a thing with his father? He was dying to know.
‘Was this Arthur married then?’
She smiled and blinked away the tears. ‘Oh no. We were very young. Never mind. Anyway, enough of all this. I don’t think any of my sons will come back. They’re too concerned with saving their own arses. I know you’re probably wondering why I’m not running around frantic, like, or trying to escape to call them, but, the truth is, I really don’t care. I really and truly don’t care what happens to them. They were never my children. They were Frank’s – well, theoretically. I think I was just an oven to cook his evil seeds. There, I’ve said it, now. Look, I’m off to the church. You can stay and wait, but I bet they won’t show their faces.’
Mike grabbed her hand. ‘Listen, Mrs Harman. Please. You deserve better. You’ll love Rye.’ He winked and tapped her hand. ‘Go on, pack a bag, and let me spoil you.’
‘Oh, I dunno.’
She was tugging at his heartstrings, and Mike wanted her away from the potentially violent situation more than ever. ‘The truth is, Mrs Harman, yes, I am related to Arthur. I’m his son.’
Her eyes widened, as she stared. ‘I just knew it. You’re the spit out of his mouth. Oh my God. It’s like looking at him years ago.’ She pulled off the tea towel that covered the cakes and wiped away her tears. ‘He was a cheeky bugger in his younger years, but he had such a kind heart. I can see you are so like him.’
After blowing her nose, she rose from the table. ‘Well, what have I got to lose? Give me a minute, and I’ll take you up on that offer.’
She looked around at the plain boring kitchen that she’d scrubbed clean every day just for something to do. With a sudden spring in her step, she hurried up the stairs and busied herself, throwing all of her best clothes into a small 1950s suitcase.
Willie chuckled. ‘What the fuck was all that about, Mike?’
Mike took one of the cakes and bit into it. It tasted very bitter. Popping open the bin, he spat the mouthful into it.
‘Willie, we’re gonna wreak carnage on the Harmans, and I want her away from ’ere. The poor cow. But I have another plan up my sleeve. I’ll tell ya later.’
He helped himself to a glass of water, swirling it around his mouth before spitting it down the sink. ‘Jesus, she might be a sweet ol’ girl, but she can’t fucking bake.’
He covered the remains of the cakes with the tea towel and waited for Mrs Harman to return. Entering the kitchen with her face flushed and her suitcase in her hand, she reminded him of Mary Poppins. It was her overcoat, hat, and brolly. His heart went out to her.
‘Right, let’s get you that nice holiday break.’ He held open the back door and followed her along the side of the house. ‘Now, you wait here, while I fetch the car.’
Doris looked up and down the road, eager to get away from the drab street. All the years she had lived there and not one neighbour had ever nodded or said ‘Hello’. They always ducked their heads down, afraid of her mouthy kids.
What a life she’d led, what with Frank and his philandering and aggressive ways, and then her demanding sons and her selfish daughter. She sighed. How she would have loved a son like Arthur’s boy. She could have had that life too, if it hadn’t been for Frank worming his way into her affections and then almost raping her. Whilst some memories are best forgotten, she knew that that one never would be, even though it was such a long time ago now.
Mike tapped on the car window, making Eric jump. ‘Listen, change of plan, we’re going to take Mrs Harman to Rye.’
Lowering the window, Eric screwed up his face. ‘What the fuck for?’
Mike was getting irritated with his brother. He expected Eric to be one step ahead and not have to explain everything. ‘Look. There’s gonna be a fucking war. Firstly, I want Mrs Harman out of the picture, and, secondly, with her on the missing list,
