The Trap

by Chambers, Kimberley

  The knock on the door saved Nancy from any more embarrassment. ‘Hello, Mum. Dean’s here, but he’s just about to leave,’ she said bluntly.

  ‘Hello, Dean. How are you? Are Brenda and Tara keeping well?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Brenda and Tara are fine, thanks, Mrs Walker.’

  ‘Go in the lounge, Mum,’ Nancy ordered, pushing Dean towards the front door.

  ‘You won’t say anything to Michael, will you?’ Dean asked, sounding as anxious as he felt.

  ‘No. Michael would kill you. Now, just go, and don’t come round here any more.’

  ‘I am really sorry, Nance,’ Dean whispered, before running down the path.

  Nancy slammed the front door, and leant against it. For a split second, she had very nearly responded to Dean’s kiss, and was so thankful she hadn’t. Whatever had she been thinking?

  After visiting Roy, Queenie and Vivian headed back to Kings and were currently sitting outside the bungalow sipping a cold lager each.

  Vivian nudged her sister. ‘Look, the notrights have just pulled up.’

  The people who owned the bungalow next door but one were an odd couple to say the least. ‘Look at them fucking sandals and long socks he’s got on. What does he look like?’ Queenie mumbled.

  ‘Looks like silly-boy-got-none. I’m sure he’s a fucking pervert. He’s got them tight swimming trunks on again,’ Vivian replied.

  ‘She’s scoffing a bag of chips again, an’ all. No wonder she’s so fucking fat. I’ve only ever seen her get out of that car once when she hasn’t been stuffing her big moon face,’ Queenie added.

  ‘Oh Christ. They’re waving now. Quick, let’s go inside and pretend we ain’t seen ’em. I’m sure he gets a thrill out of standing in front of us with his cockalockie on show,’ Vivian said, grabbing her sister’s arm.

  Giggling like two naughty school girls, Queenie and Vivian darted inside their bungalow, and quickly locked the front door.

  Vinny could feel pure adrenaline running through his veins as he sat down in the restaurant next to Joanna. He had purposely got there a bit early, and he could barely wait for the fun to begin. ‘You OK, darling?’

  ‘Not really. My stomach is churning. Shall we pretend you’re a bit younger? How about if you say you’re twenty-eight?’

  ‘No, we can’t lie. Honesty is the best policy in life, always remember that, Jo. Anyway, if we’re gonna have a future together, then lying to your mum is a definite no-go.’

  ‘So, will I be living at the club with you when I move down to London?’ Joanna asked, absolutely thrilled that Vinny had mentioned them having a future together.

  ‘I don’t want you living at the club, babe. It’s no place for a stunning chick like you. I was thinking of pushing the boat out and buying us a trendy house nearby. That way, Little Vinny can move in with us, and you can take care of him while I go to work in the evenings.’

  ‘But I thought I was going to be working at the club with you?’ Joanna asked, clearly dismayed. She hadn’t spent much time with Little Vinny, and certainly wasn’t ready to become his full-time guardian yet.

  ‘You will be working at the club with me, but in the daytime. I want you to be my personal secretary. Gotta have someone I can trust, and who better to hand such a prestigious position to than my girlfriend, eh?’ Vinny said, planting a gentle kiss on Joanna’s lips.

  ‘Oh my God! My mum’s just walked in. I hope she didn’t see us kissing,’ Joanna gabbled seconds later.

  Seeing the look of shock appear on the faces of Joanna’s mum and her friend, Vinny stood up. ‘Hello. I’m Joanna’s boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Joanna has told me lots about you, all good may I add. Now, what would you two beautiful ladies like to drink? They do a good selection of wines here. Shall I order us a bottle of red and white?’

  ‘Yes, that would be nice, wouldn’t it, Deborah?’ Sandy replied, nudging her pal. Vinny looked about the same age as them. He had a dark suit on, was very handsome, and reminded Sandy of something out of the movies.

  Deborah glared at her daughter as she sat down opposite her. The boyfriend had a London accent and was dressed and looked like a bloody gangster. ‘Kept this a bit quiet, didn’t you, dear?’

  Vinny put an arm around Joanna’s shoulders. He was enjoying himself now. ‘We wanted to make sure that our relationship was going to work before we made a big song and dance about it. We are now completely sure that it will, so we thought the time was right to tell you. Joanna is moving to London next month. We are going to live together, and she will also be working as my secretary. I can assure you I will look after your lovely young daughter, Mrs Preston, and you are welcome to visit us whenever you wish.’

  Deborah gulped back the glass of wine she had just been poured as though it were water. ‘I think you should slow down a bit, mate. My daughter is seventeen years old, and if you think I’m letting her go off gallivanting around London with some shady-looking stranger who looks double her age, you can bloody well think again.’

  ‘Mum, don’t be so rude. I am old enough to do exactly what I like, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.’

  ‘We’ll see about that, young lady. I’m sure your father will have something to say about this. He isn’t going to be very happy, I can assure you of that.’

  ‘’Ere you go, mate. Have another drink,’ Sandy said, topping Deborah’s glass again. She wasn’t family, so felt a bit awkward and unable to comment on her friend’s obvious distress.

  ‘I’m sure once your husband learns of my assets he will be more than happy for me to take care of your daughter,’ Vinny said, with a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice.

  ‘I couldn’t care less if you own the crown jewels, mate. How old are you? And what exactly do you do for a living? You haven’t even told us your bloody name yet,’ Deborah replied, treating Vinny to an evil stare.

  Vinny grinned. He had been waiting weeks for this precise moment and wanted to savour every second of it. ‘I am thirty-one years old, and I own a very popular nightclub in Whitechapel. Oh, and my name is Vinny. Vinny Butler.’

  As the realization of who Joanna’s new boyfriend was hit home, Deborah opened her mouth wide, but no words would come out. She suddenly felt sick, dizzy, and the restaurant seemed to be spinning around before her very eyes.

  Aware that her mother had gone a deathly shade of white, Joanna clasped her hand. ‘What’s the matter? Are you OK, Mum?’

  Deborah was anything but OK. Her body went limp, as the shock made her lose consciousness and she hit the floor with a thud.

  ‘Oh my God! Mum, are you OK? Do something, Vinny,’ Joanna cried out.

  ‘Do you want me to call you an ambulance?’ asked one of the waiters.

  ‘No. It’s OK, mate. She’s fine now,’ Vinny said, when he saw Deborah’s eyes flicker open.

  With Sandy’s help, Deborah sat up, and the waiter held a glass of water to her lips.

  ‘What happened, Mum? Have you been ill?’ Joanna asked, clutching her mother’s hand.

  Deborah snatched her hand away, and scowled at Joanna. ‘You stupid, stupid girl. He doesn’t love you. He’s just using you as bait to get back at your father.’

  Joanna looked at Vinny, her face a picture of confusion. ‘Why is Mum saying that, Vinny? You don’t know my dad, do you?’

  ‘Of course he knows your father, you naïve fool. And I thought I’d raised you to be intelligent,’ Deborah hissed, as the waiter helped her onto a chair.

  ‘How would I know who your dad is? You have never even told me his name,’ Vinny said, holding his arms outwards to signal his innocence.

  ‘My dad’s name is Johnny Preston. He comes from London originally. Well, do you know him?’

  Clocking the contorted look of anger on Deborah’s face, Vinny wanted to laugh out loud. Instead though, he feigned surprise. ‘I can’t believe it, Jo. Yeah, I do know your dad and we’re hardly what you can call the best of friends. I swear on my own father’s life t
hat I didn’t know who your father was though. You’d barely even mentioned him. It’s just pure coincidence. What a small world we live in, eh?’

  ‘You lying no-good cunt,’ Deborah screamed.

  Feeling embarrassed because every other diner in the restaurant was now looking their way, Joanna begged her mother to calm down.

  ‘Calm down! You want me to calm down? You are sleeping with the man who put your father in prison, you daft little mare.’

  ‘Come on, babe. Let’s go. I’m not having you spoken to like this. You don’t deserve it,’ Vinny said, grabbing Joanna’s arm.

  ‘If you choose that low-life over me and your father, I will never forgive you, Jo,’ Deborah spat.

  Vinny leant towards his girlfriend and spoke softly in her ear. ‘Please, Jo, let’s get out of here. Everybody is staring at us and it’s a proper show-up. You can talk to your mum in a few days when she’s got over the shock. She’ll be calmer then. It’s pointless trying to have a sensible conversation with her while she’s ranting and raving.’

  Frightened if she didn’t do as Vinny said he might finish with her, Joanna turned to her mother. ‘I have to go now, Mum, but I promise we’ll speak again soon.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Donald and Christopher Walker were on their way to the pub for a pint when they heard a lady scream and a commotion going on over the other side of the road.

  ‘It’s a robbery. He’s got a gun,’ somebody yelled.

  Even though he was off-duty, instinct kicked in and Christopher ran across the road to try to foil what seemed to be a raid on a betting shop.

  Fearing for his son’s safety, Donald dashed across the road as well. ‘No, Chris! Be careful,’ he shouted, as he saw his brave son tackle the man brandishing the gun. The gun flew out of the man’s hand along with a cloth bag stuffed with money and Christopher looked to have saved the day until the man’s accomplice leapt off a motorbike waving a large knife.

  ‘Oh my God! Call an ambulance. My son’s been stabbed,’ Donald screamed, as the men made their getaway.

  Within minutes, both police and ambulance services had arrived. Christopher had been stabbed in the thigh, but was conscious and seemed jovial enough. As he was lifted into the ambulance on a stretcher, a big cheer and much clapping surrounded his departure. The robbers might have got away, but Christopher’s bravery had meant that they had left the scene without their ill-gotten gains and minus their gun.

  Donald squeezed his son’s hand as he sat beside him in the ambulance. He had tears of pride in his eyes. Unlike his daughter who had turned out to be a massive disappointment, Christopher was not only a son to be proud of, but also a bloody hero.

  Dean Smart’s head was all over the place. He knew that Nancy had been tempted to respond to his kiss before she had frantically pushed him away and he couldn’t stop thinking about her. His nan was due to go into hospital today, and he was worried about that also. He was petrified her heart might not withstand the operation.

  ‘So, where was you the other day then, Dean? I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Have other plans, did you?’ Brenda asked, marching into the room holding Tara’s hand.

  ‘What you on about now?’

  ‘Tell Daddy what you just told me, love,’ Brenda urged her daughter.

  ‘I said that I stayed with Nanny Freda and you went out with a friend,’ Tara mumbled. She knew she had said or done something wrong, but didn’t know what.

  ‘So? What, is that a crime then, is it?’ Dean asked, glaring at his miserable-looking wife. She had obviously been interrogating their daughter as per usual. The woman was a psycho.

  ‘Of course it ain’t a fucking crime, but why keep it secret, eh? I know you, Dean Smart, you’re hiding something from me. Out with one of your fancy women, was you? I might ring Michael and see where Nancy was that day.’

  ‘You’re mental, you are, Bren, and I really have had a gutful of it. I did tell you where I’d been when you came in Saturday night, and I told you that Tara had spent a few hours with my nan, but you were that pissed out your brains yet again, you obviously don’t remember.’

  ‘Liar,’ Brenda shrieked, picking up the plant pot and throwing it at her husband. She could recall the conversation she’d had with Dean, and not once had Dean mentioned dumping Tara at his nan’s house while he went out gallivanting alone.

  ‘You’re hurt, Daddy,’ Tara screamed, as Dean crouched down clutching his bleeding head.

  ‘It’s OK, darling. Daddy’s OK,’ Dean said, feeling a bit dazed.

  Aware that her husband’s hands were covered in blood, Brenda began to worry that she had crossed the line. ‘I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  Dean stood up, pushed past his wife and stomped up the stairs.

  ‘Where you going?’ Brenda yelled, when minutes later Dean came down with a big sports bag in his hand.

  ‘I’m going to stay at me nan’s house while she’s in hospital. She’s worried about her cats. It’ll do us good to have a break anyway. Oh, and for your information, I had a drink with my cousin Del the other day. Ring him if you don’t believe me,’ Dean said. He had already rung Del to cover his back if need be.

  ‘You’re not leaving us, are you, Daddy?’ Tara sobbed, clinging to her father’s legs.

  ‘No, darling,’ Dean lied. As soon as Vinny returned from Eastbourne, Dean had decided to have a man-to-man chat with him. He was going to explain in detail just how unbearable life was with Brenda. Along with Micheal, Dean was virtually running the club now, so Vinny needed him on side, and as long as he got the OK from Brenda’s big brother, Dean planned to leave his bitch of a wife for good.

  Overcome by worry, Deborah Preston had rung Wormwood Scrubs and booked an emergency visit to see Johnny. The prison was quite strict about hastily arranged visits, but when Deborah had explained that there was a terrible family crisis and she needed to break the news to her ex-husband gently and in person, she had thankfully been granted permission to visit Johnny at short notice.

  Deborah could not get her daughter’s welfare out of her mind. Her Johnny might have been a bit of a villian and done some stupid things in his time, but he had a kind face and a good heart deep down. Vinny was a different breed, Deborah knew that. He had been smirking at her as she was helped back onto her chair by Sandy, and Deborah would never forget the pure look of evil in his eyes.

  ‘Are you ready to make a move, mate?’ Sandy asked, putting the last of her things in her case.

  ‘Yeah, I’m ready. You can change your mind and stay here, you know. I don’t mind, honest.’

  ‘Nope. I’m coming with ya. Birds of feather stick together, mate. Do you wanna take another mooch over to Jo’s chalet and see if she’s back yet? I mean, surely she can’t have gone to London for long if she wants to keep her job here?’

  ‘No point going looking for her again. That wolf in sheep’s clothing will make damn sure Jo doesn’t return to Eastbourne until we’re well out the picture. Why do you think he dragged her off to London the following day? Because he don’t want the whole fucking truth coming out, that’s why. Oh well, Chloe has promised me she will make sure Joanna reads my letter. Chloe hates the bastard too. She reckons Jo is like a different girl since Vinny’s been on the scene. I mean, he must have a real sick mind, Sandy. What sort of grown man preys on a seventeen-year-old slip of a girl just to get revenge for something her father did? The thought of that bastard mauling my baby makes me want to vomit.’

  ‘Try not to think about that side of it, Deb. Let’s just hope when Jo reads that letter and knows the full story she will see Vinny in a different light. I mean, you only told me everything yesterday, and I was shocked to the core. Surely your Jo will feel the same as I did, eh?’

  ‘I hope so. If not, Johnny will have to sort it. He knew a lot of heavy people back in the day, so I’m sure one of his old pals can step in and help him out in his hour of need. I just hope he can handle the news being in prison
. I hope it doesn’t fuck his head up completely.’

  Sandy gave her friend a comforting hug. ‘Everything will turn out just fine, mate. I know it will.’

  With Nancy refusing to look after the kids yet again, claiming she had another migraine, Michael had no option other than to ask his pal Kevin to accompany him to Eastbourne. He needed someone to keep an eye on and entertain the boys. Kevin was now a married man himself with a two-year-old son.

  Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at the way his pal’s life had turned out. When Kev was young he used to take the piss out of his mixed-race roots by putting on a fake Jamaican accent, yet he had now ended up marrying a Jamaican girl and made his living out of selling black music to black people.

  The journey to Eastbourne went quickly as Michael and Kevin chatted about old times. ‘Right, this is the care home. My mum said the beach is literally five minutes from here, so you take the kids there, and I’ll come and find yous when I’m done. Wish me luck. I think I’m gonna need it.’

  Roy was sitting in his bedroom staring out of the window when he heard a knock on his door. ‘You have a visitor, Roy,’ one of the carers said, in a silly sing-song voice.

  Wheeling himself over to the door, Roy opened it. His mum had said she was going back to Whitechapel. Little Vinny was due to have the plaster off his arm, and he had already missed the first two weeks of his new term at school. ‘I’m not expecting any visitors. Who is it?’ Roy asked.

  ‘A man called Michael. He says he’s your brother, and it’s urgent.’

  The word ‘urgent’ pricked Roy’s interest. Perhaps one of the family had died or had an accident. If that was the case, then he hoped that person was Vinny. ‘OK. Send Michael in here.’

  Michael felt terribly guilty as he walked into Roy’s bedroom. It was a cheerful-enough looking room with a nice view, but he immediately clocked that his brother had lost weight, looked slightly unkempt, and dead behind the eyes. ‘Hello, bruv. So sorry I haven’t got down to Eastbourne before. I’ve had a lot of problems, as Mum has probably told you.’