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the bottom of it. But it was almost as if she blamed him for it. And she’d called
him
a bully. That was no way for
a wife to behave. He felt extremely hurt. What was wrong with Theresa? He was a bloody good husband, better than a lot he knew. She never wanted for anything. There was always plenty of food. He
didn’t skimp on coal. Whatever she needed she only had to ask. And whatever she said, he was a good responsible father who wanted the best for his children. There was nothing wrong with
wanting them to do well at school. That was the only way to get on. It was all very well having carefree summers. Fun and games didn’t get you through exams and without exams they
wouldn’t get proper jobs. It was a hard world out there. Theresa, cushioned by the comfortable sheltered life she led, didn’t realize that.
    Whatever was wrong with her, he hoped it wouldn’t last for long. This kind of behaviour was most unsettling. Maybe she was starting the change or something. Women went a bit peculiar
around that time of life, or so he heard. With a heavy heart, William switched off the lamp and went to his bed.
    Theresa lay in bed, her heart racing. She couldn’t believe that she had stood up to William and let fly at him the way she had. But she had felt outraged and angry when
he’d told her about putting Rachel in the corner at school. Again the images of the bruises and bloodstains on Rachel’s poor little body came to mind and tears sprang to her eyes. It
was awful to think that you couldn’t protect your child from bullies like Patrick McKeown and from all the hurt and trauma that was out there in the world.
    She felt a surge of hatred for her husband. He
was
a bully. He enjoyed the power he held over her and Rachel and Ronan. It wasn’t physical bullying but an insidious intimidation
that he constantly practised on them. He made his children feel inferior and he did much the same to her. Well tonight her anger and her desire to protect her daughter had freed her from his
authority. For once in her life she was going to put her foot down. And from now on, she was going to keep it down. If Rachel and Ronan were to have any bit of fun and happiness it was going to be
up to her to see that they got it. Imagine wanting to give them lessons during their holidays! She grimaced in the dark, wiping the tears from her cheeks. It wasn’t as if they were backward
or anything. They were bright intelligent children, they didn’t need extra tuition.
    Tomorrow she was going to get that little bastard Patrick McKeown and put the fear of God into him and then she was going to take the children into Bray for the afternoon and bring them to the
amusement arcade and let them do whatever they wanted. Slipping out of bed she padded softly across the landing and into Rachel’s room.
    Her daughter lay with one arm under her cheek, fast asleep, untroubled by her previous upsets and worries. In the moonlight, Theresa could see the bruises on her neck and ear from the assault
with the marbles. Gently she leaned down and lightly brushed her lips against the vile marks. A ferocious need to protect her precious daughter rushed through her. Rachel was so timid. Life was
going to be hard for her. Ronan had much more spirit and was less daunted by his father. He bounced back after every chastisement. She would never have to worry as much about her son as she would
about her daughter. Ronan’s lively personality would ease his way through life. He had the son of personality that not even William could dim. But Rachel was so like her mother, she would
always be easily cowed and overshadowed by more forceful egos. Well she was going to do her utmost to make sure Rachel didn’t end up like she had. A doormat to an autocratic husband. A woman
who had never achieved anything by herself. She was going to instil confidence in her daughter and praise every little achievement to the heavens and if William
dared
to suggest that
Theresa was