Beautiful Beast (Gypsy Heroes #3)(67)

‘Come on,’ Shane whispers in my ear and we exit the room.

I exhale the breath I was holding. ‘That was weird,’ I say.

‘Yeah, who knows what is going through his head? Come on. I want you to meet my mother.’

Shane’s mother is outside drying clothes on a washing line.

‘Ma,’ Shane calls, and she turns and looks at us. There are clothes pegs in her mouth. She takes them out and holds them in her hand as we walk up to her.

‘Hello, Snow,’ she says, her eyes sliding over me. She is not overly friendly, but she is different from her mother and father. She has kindness in her eyes, and a deep love for her family.

‘Hello, Mrs. Eden. I’m sorry about your father,’ I say.

‘Don’t be sorry, my dear. It’ll be good for my mother. She’ll finally be free.’



‘If he was such a horrible man in life, why did your mother rush her whole family here?’ I ask Shane curiously.

‘Gypsies are superstitious people. The belief is that people can come back from the dead to wreak revenge on the living. So when someone is dying, their families, friends, acquaintances and even enemies come to them to ask for forgiveness and settle any strife, for fear of the mulo, a type of undead.



That afternoon Mickey passes away. The funeral is a massive affair. More than a thousand people travel from all over Britain to come to the old man’s funeral. He was a great boxer in his time and was highly regarded.

The dead man is dressed in his best attire, his gold watch, and his favorite pipe are put into the coffin with him.

Part of the tradition is to have the body at home, and have mourners and relatives pay their respects by coming to the house, so a marquee is erected. A skip is hired and left outside the house to light a bonfire in. People come and go all hours of the night. There is a lot of cooking, drinking, toasting to the dead man, and singing. The entire affair is characterized by abundance, public mourning, and solemn ritual.

It all ends with a massive procession of hundreds of people walking the five mile walk to the cemetery. The convoy includes the horse drawn carriage that carries Mickey, eight cars, lorries carrying wreaths and floral tributes. They celebrate the life of Mickey. Children, even Lilliana and Tommy, ride up front in a horse drawn cart alongside the hearse.

After the funeral, all of Mickey’s possessions are brought out and burned. It is a form of destroying all material tied to the dead.




That night in the hotel, we are both lying on the bed, tired. Shane turns to me and says, ‘I don’t want to use condoms anymore. I want us both to take our tests.’

I don’t look at him. ‘OK,’ I say quietly.





Forty


SNOW

Three days later, after Chitra has been successfully operated on, the letters drop through the letter flap. I pick them up and take them to Shane. He is working on his laptop, but he looks up when I come into the room holding the envelopes in my hand. For a second I imagine I see dread in his face, but then it is gone in a flash. He closes his laptop and grins. ‘Do you want to go first or shall I?’

‘You,’ I say, a knot in my stomach.

He walks over to me and takes the envelope I am holding. He tears it open and glances at it. He looks up at me. ‘I’m clear.’

‘Oh, good,’ I choke. ‘Right,’ I say and, taking a deep breath, I tear my envelope. My hands are shaking so much I can’t even take the letter out. His hand covers mine. ‘It doesn’t matter either way. Whatever it is we’ll deal with it, OK?’

‘OK,’ I whisper.

I pull the letter out of the envelope and unfold it. I let my eyes skim it. My eyes start to tear up. I’m in the clear. I look up and his face is a picture. He is pretending as if he doesn’t care either way. And suddenly I am so full of joy and happiness I want to play. I want to say, ‘No, all is not well,’ but even I find can’t do that to him. It’s too much. So I just shake my head.

His eyes widen. ‘What?’ he gasps.

I stare at his reaction. My God! He has been terrified about the results. Probably even more than me. My mouth opens to tell him it is just a little joke, but the penny drops for him and he snatches the paper out of my hand and reads it. He looks up, his eyes totally blank.

I start walking backwards. ‘It was just a joke. I just wanted to see your expression. Come on. It’s funny,’ I say cajolingly.

He lunges forward, grabs me by my thighs and, hauling me up, throws me over his shoulder like I am a sack of something unprecious.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I say, but by now I am laughing so much. I’m clear. I’m clear.

He takes me to the bedroom and throws me on the bed.

‘Hey,’ I protest.

He reaches forward and unbuttons my jeans and pulls the zip down. Then he grabs the material at the heels and yanks so hard my jeans come off in one swift movement.

‘I don’t know what you’re so angry about. It was just a joke,’ I giggle.

He throws my jeans behind him and hooks his fingers into the tops of my panties. They come off real easy.

‘Come on, Shane,’ I coax.

Silently he pulls my T-shirt over my head and, while I am slightly raised off the bed, unhooks my bra and flings that away too.