Page 80 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘W...what are you saying?’ Melissa’s voice trembled.

‘I’m saying that eventually I put precious Patrick in rehab. When you thought that he was touring the Far East looking for suppliers for his business concept, he was in fact, locked down in a clinic in East London. When he came out, I put up a considerable amount of cash to get his business off the ground.’

‘I thought he had a bank loan.’ Melissa shook her head.

‘That’s how stupid you are; banks don’t loan to junkies with a poor credit history.’

‘I… I don’t understand?’

‘Although I helped Patrick, I did it for you. That ended when you left me. I’ve called the loan in and your perfect son is crapping himself. His business is about to go under.’

‘But why?’

‘I don’t like it when women walk out.’

‘I c…c…can’t come back.’

‘Then you’ll destroy your son.’ Malcolm laughed. ‘I’m about to send him a package of the white powder to help him cope with his stress and I’ve no doubt that junkie boy will soon be out on the streets.’

‘You bastard.’ Melissa’s breath came in a burst. ‘How could you do that?’

‘Come home, Melissa.’ Malcolm’s voice was hard. ‘I’ll give you two days to get your pathetic arse on a plane and back to Spain. When you step through the door at the villa, I’ll reinstate Patrick’s loan.’

‘Please, Malcolm.’ Melissa ran her fingers through her hair. ‘There must be some other way.’

‘My offer is final. Come back or I’ll destroy Patrick.’

The line went dead.

Melissa’s body was shaking and the phone fell to the floor. She lay back on the bed and curled into a ball, her fingers squeezing a pillow, as tears cascaded down her face. How the hell had she not known that Patrick was taking drugs? How could she possibly have missed the signs?

But as her body was wracked with sobs, Melissa knew the reason.

She’d tried so hard to hide her unhappiness when Patrick came to Spain, that she’d failed to be aware that he was being led astray by Giles. Melissa had worn kaftans and loose clothing around the villa, anything that would hide the scars and bruises from the beatings that Malcolm systematically inflicted, to areas of her body that couldn’t be seen.

Now, the cold-hearted bastard was giving her no choice. If she didn’t go back, Malcolm’s actions would kill Patrick; the only person that she truly loved and had in her life.

Her baby, her boy, her beautiful son.

The pain in her chest was unbearable and her heart felt as though it would explode at any minute. But despite her agony and frustration, Melissa knew that her fate was final.

She had to go back.

31

Harry was thoughtful as he stared out of the kitchen window, waiting for the kettle to boil. What had happened during the night seemed a very odd business and his policeman’s instinct told him that there may be more to the incident than met the eye.

He’d had to agree with the Garda that Bill had clearly tumbled and fallen badly. It was bizarre that it was a coconut that had caused the fall, and the chances of Bill cutting his neck on a slither of the hard, wood-like casing were incredibly slim. But strange things did happen and when the Garda learnt that Bill had taken to talking to himself recently and often acted strangely, they didn’t think it at all hard to believe that the man was out walking in the middle of the night.

The kettle whistled and Harry poured boiling water over tea in the pot. As he stirred and replaced the lid, Alf wandered into the kitchen.

‘Fancy a brew?’ Harry asked.

‘Aye, nice and strong,’ Alf replied and sat down.

‘Where’s Willie?’

‘He’s taken the Babes into Kindale; the mayor has asked Audrey to put on a special Sunday show in the outdoor swimming pool this afternoon; it’s been on the local radio.’