She had watched silently as her mother’s coffin had been lowered into the damp ground, had needed to see her mother finally entombed once and for all.
Kenny Boy had held her hand, had made sure she had not let the news get her down. As if. She had silently rejoiced at her new-found freedom. Kenny Boy had watched over her until the funeral was finished and life had resumed once more. In fact, he had been the
one
person who seemed to understand her relief at the terrible news, and appreciate her new-found lust for life. Jordanna guessed that Kenny Boy knew far more about Imelda’s death than the police did, but that was only her gut instinct. Her granny knew far more about it than she ever would, and that suited her down to the ground. If her mother had died at the hands of her beloved son, then that was God’s will. As long as that could not be proved in a court of law, she didn’t really care. He was even more damaged than she was but, unlike her, he really had no concept of that. Kenny had inherited Imelda’s knack for disregarding anything that might cause him a sleepless night, or make him feel a real emotion. He saw everything from his own unique point of view and, unlike her, he didn’t allow regret to colour his life in any way. All she knew for sure was that her mother’s death had somehow brought an end to her own suffering. She and Kenny Boy had lived with their mother’s shadow looming over them since she could remember.
Now, at last, it seemed that they were both free.