Boston Blood

Eighteen

Boston, 1986.

Cillian swallowed the lump forming in his throat as they lowered the white marble coffin into the frost-covered earth. Everyone was handed a white rose to place on top. She would have liked this. Cillian's rose was the last to fall in as the harsh sound of his mother's body gently hitting the soil stabbed his frozen ears.

"Thank you, Father. That was a lovely service." Aidan shook the priest's hand and invited him to come to the pub with them for a drink. "Thank you Mr O'Shea, I would be delighted." As the rest of the mourners carefully manoeuvred their way towards the cars, Cillian heard the priest ask his uncle if he was going to be okay, that it was devastating for a young man to lose both of his parents within a year of each other. His uncle assured the priest that his nephew was tough and that he would keep an eye on him.

Cillian stayed in the cemetery until the sun had well and truly set. The pitiful amount of heat it had tried to radiate earlier had vanished and he stood there, freezing and numb.

She had hung on for as long as she could. She fought and fought until the last second. He was so proud of her. She must have been in so much pain, but she never let him see and he tried his best to be on his best behaviour, knowing that she was near the end. He didn't want her to know the trouble he was getting into and the people he had become involved with. He wanted her to believe that her only child was still the sweet, caring and innocent boy he always was.

A hand gripped his shoulder, making him snap out of his constant, gut wrenching rage. "I'm not leaving yet, Bridget. Fuck off." Cillian snapped at the young woman standing behind him. He would have never usually spoken to her in that tone. She would have killed him, but he knew that because of the day that was in it, she let it slide. Although, her grip on his shoulder did intensify ever so slightly. "Cillian, they're waiting for you. You should come and get warmed up. You're absolutely frozen stiff." Cillian didn't move a muscle. He stared into the six foot hole his mother was lying in and felt his hands vibrate in anger.

Bridget stepped in front of him, her beady brown eyes narrowed and looked heavy under her dark eyeshadow. Her short black hair was gelled back and she was wearing a black, fitted suit. She wasn't too much older than him, twenty five and stood just over five feet tall but she made up for it with her terrifying demeanour and reputation. "I'm not asking, kid." Cillian knew that tone. He wanted to argue but he knew there was no point. The cemetery was nearly pitch black now, anyway. He'll come back tomorrow. Cillian sniffed and took a deep, steadying breath. Bridget smiled and wrapped her strong, toned arm around his rigid shoulders as she led him to her car.

***

"Maureen was some woman. She was tough as nails, right to the very end. I'm sure you all know that life hasn't been easy for this small but extremely driven family. Maureen loved them, especially her only son, Cillian." The entire bar turned to offer Cillian nods of appreciation and condolences before returning their attention to Aidan, who was standing in front of the mahogany bar. "She never stopped fighting and would do absolutely anything for her boy. I know she's looking down on him and on all of us, now, ready to be in our corner when we need her and keeping a close, loving eye. To Maureen." Everyone raised their glasses and took a sip of their drinks. Cillian felt like his tie was strangling him. He tugged on the material, willing his lungs to fill. He could feel his uncle's eyes on him as he bumped through the crowd towards the smoking area.

The sharp, bitter November air and cigarette smoke attacked his overworked lungs. He hadn't cried much at all. He felt like he all of his sorrow and grief had been replaced with fury. The night Aidan had told him that his father had been killed, something had changed within Cillian. He knew his father was a criminal but he was also a good man, deep down and he loved him very much. But the fact that his friend, Tommy had murdered him in cold blood had made Cillian hard, bitter and extremely vengeful.