The Trap

by Kimberley Chambers

  Not seeing Emily-Mae was the heart-wrenching part for Queenie. With her blonde mop of hair, blue eyes, and sweet nature, the child was a little angel, and there wasn’t a day went by when Queenie didn’t miss her. One day, she would go to Ireland just so she could see Emily-Mae once again.

  Feeling rather melancholy, Queenie took another gulp of her drink and debated whether to get another. Vinny had found Roy a private care home in East Ham that catered for people with needs such as his, but Roy wasn’t happy there at all. He had asked Vinny to find him a different one by the seaside somewhere. It seemed as though Roy wanted to get as far away from London and his past life as possible which upset Queenie immensely. How the bloody hell was she meant to visit him regularly if he moved a long distance from London?

  Deciding against another drink, Queenie finished the one she had, took her compact mirror out of her handbag and patched up her lipstick. She then put a smile on her face, waved to the landlord and left the premises. False smiles had now become part of her daily façade, and as soon as she walked in that care home, as usual, she would sport another to greet her beloved son. As a mother, Queenie believed it was her duty to always be upbeat and bubbly. What else did poor Roy have to look forward to?

  Roy Butler opened his curtains and stared miserably out of the window. East Ham wasn’t the most picturesque of areas, and because his room was situated at the back of the house all he could see was derelict buildings, overgrown gardens and rubble.

  Closing his eyes, Roy pictured Colleen and Emily-Mae. He missed them dreadfully, but he knew he had done the right thing by setting them free. No beautiful young woman should have to spend the rest of her life caring for a cripple and even though Colleen had insisted that she still loved and wanted to marry him, Roy had convinced himself that she was only saying that out of pity.

  Roy turned his thoughts to his elder brother. His injuries, and losing Colleen and his daughter, were all Vinny’s fault and Roy couldn’t help but hate him. They had been so close when they were growing up, but Roy would never allow his mind to wander back to the good old days. Why would he want to when he was no longer the man he once was? That’s why he’d had to escape from living at his mother’s house. His mum had been devastated when he had insisted on being moved to a care home, but Roy knew he had to leave for the sake of his sanity and the tiny bit of dignity he had left.

  Vinny popping in most days had driven Roy to distraction. Seeing his brother standing on two legs, suited and booted, reeking of expensive aftershave, had just reminded Roy of all he had lost and the person he no longer was. Revenge was the only thought that kept him from total insanity these days. Because he had never remembered the actual shooting, nobody including his mother had ever mentioned the argument with Vinny that had happened beforehand. His family obviously thought that his injuries had left him unaware of the build-up to the incident, but Roy remembered everything. Vinny blackmailing their father to stick the boot in with Colleen’s parents was something that Roy could never forget or forgive.

  What goes around comes around was a true old saying and one day Vinny would have to pay for his sins. A cripple or not, Roy was determined to heap revenge on the brother whom he had once idolized. Only then, could he move on with his own life.

  Nancy Butler breathed a sigh of relief when the doorbell rang, as she knew it would be her mother.

  ‘Ooh, you do look stressed. Nanna to the rescue,’ Mary chuckled.

  ‘See if you can shut them up for five minutes, Mum. Done my head in all morning, they have. Every time one stops whinging and crying, the other little bugger starts. I’ll put the kettle on and make us a bit of lunch,’ Nancy said. As much as she loved her sons, they had the ability to drive her doolally at times.

  Mary sighed, her face etched with worry. Her Nancy hadn’t taken to motherhood like she had, that was for sure. Once upon a time, Nancy had been a fun, vibrant girl, but since she’d given birth to her second son, Adam, she seemed permanently depressed.

  ‘Nanny. Come and look at my new toy,’ Daniel shouted out.

  Mary went into the lounge and grinned as both her grandsons clamoured for her attention. Nancy and Michael had got married on Christmas Day in 1971 and Nancy had fallen pregnant soon after. Daniel Michael Butler had been born in October 1972, so would be four in a few months’ time. Weirdly, his brother Adam Michael Butler had been born on the very same day two years later.

  ‘Whoopsie-daisy,’ Mary said in a silly voice, when Adam tried to run towards her, but instead landed on his bottom. The little boy hadn’t mastered the art of running properly yet.

  When Nancy had married Michael in a church in Mile End, Mary had obeyed her husband’s wishes and not attended. There wasn’t a day that went by afterwards when she hadn’t regretted that decision, which is why she had then put her foot down. Mary had not only stood up to Donald, she had left him over his obstinance.

  Their separation had lasted nearly a month. Then, Donald had turned up at Mary’s cousin’s house, where she had been staying, and begged his wife to come back home.

  At first Mary had flatly refused. Then after more pleading from Donald she had agreed to return, but only on her conditions. She had three. She was allowed to see Nancy whenever she wished; they sold that awful bloody newsagent’s and bought another café; and instead of living in a cramped flat like they had done for many years, they bought or rented a house instead.

  Mary had been amazed when Donald went away to think about her conditions and returned the following day to say he would honour all three. The only stipulation he made was that Mary would not mention Nancy or anything to do with her life at home, which Mary agreed to.

  Since then, Mary’s life had been so much better. The café they had purchased in Barking wasn’t smart and trendy, and neither did it have a jukebox like the one in Whitechapel, but the customers were nice, and the annual turnover decent. The flat above, Donald had rented out to a young couple which had enabled them to mortgage a two-bedroomed house themselves. Mary loved having a garden for the first time in years, and spent ages pottering about in it. She had even learned how to grow her own tomatoes.

  The biggest plus point for Mary though was Nancy now living nearby. Aware that his young wife was struggling to cope with their children, Michael had done the sensible thing and moved the family to Barking so Mary could help out on a regular basis.

  ‘Leave Nanny alone for a minute while she eats her lunch, boys. Look, there’s a cartoon on telly,’ Nancy said, handing her mum a plate with two ham rolls and a big Spanish tomato cut into eight pieces.

  ‘Let’s play in the swimming pool,’ Daniel said, grabbing his younger brother’s hand.

  ‘Swimming pool!’ Mary exclaimed, slightly alarmed.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. It’s only one of them little paddling pools and there isn’t even an inch of water in it. Michael brought it home the other day. The boys have been so miserable and clammy in this hot weather, Michael said it will cool them down a bit. He also said if they don’t stop driving me mad I can drown them in it,’ Nancy joked.

  Mary smiled. Although she had originally been very dubious about Nancy marrying Michael, Mary had really grown to like him as a person and a son-in-law. Michael was charming, funny, extremely generous, and most importantly he adored Nancy and was a wonderful father to the boys.

  Nancy was now twenty-one, Michael twenty-seven, and overall their marriage was a happy one, which pleased Mary immensely. It also proved Donald wrong, which was an added bonus.

  ‘So, how’s Dad and Christopher, Mum? Are they both OK?’ Nancy asked.

  Every time Mary saw her daughter, she asked after her brother and father and it upset Mary greatly that Donald and Christopher never asked about Nancy. ‘They’re OK, love. The café’s been busy and we’ve now taken on another girl to help out in the mornings.’

  ‘So, what’s happening with Christopher’s job? Has he arrested anyone yet?’ Nancy enquired. Her brother had recently fulfilled his lifelo
ng dream of joining the police force, and at nineteen he was currently the youngest police constable stationed at Ilford.

  ‘You know what Christopher is like, love? Takes his job very seriously and tells me nothing. I think he speaks to your father about stuff though. As you can imagine your dad is over the moon he got in the Met. Christopher is what is called a probationer at the moment. Have you told Michael yet?’

  ‘Yeah. He wasn’t overly impressed. He don’t want his family to know, he made that clear.’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  ‘Yes, oh dear, Mum. Michael reckons Vinny will cause us no end of problems if he finds out Christopher is a policeman, so best you never mention it in front of the boys. Daniel especially, ’cause he bloody picks up on things and repeats them all the time.’

  Mary suddenly felt quite sad. Nancy had married a lad from a notorious gangland family, Christopher was now working on the other side of the fence, so a reconciliation between her two children was very unlikely to ever happen.

  ‘You OK, Mum?’ Nancy asked, noticing a faraway look in her mother’s eyes.

  Mary forced a smile. ‘I’m fine, darling. Let’s go outside and dangle our feet in that paddling pool. It might cool us down a bit.’

  Michael Butler drove towards the club he part-owned with a face like thunder. When they had sold the bigger club along the Commercial Road, Vinny had pocketed the profit, bought their old club back, and made Michael and Roy equal partners. Obviously, Roy no longer had anything to do with the business, but his share was put aside to help pay for his care.

  Michael had been quite happy with the new arrangement. Because Vinny and Roy had originally set up the business, he had never previously earned quite as much as they did, so the extra money came in more than handy with a family to support. Michael adored his wife and sons. Nancy’s mood swings drove him mad at times, but he had not once regretted marrying her. He had been a bundle of nerves on his wedding day though. The thought of commitment had nearly made him pull out at the very last minute, but his best pal Kevin, who had also been his best man, had calmed his nerves and got him to the church on time.

  Pulling up outside the club, Michael leapt out of his BMW, locked it and stormed inside.

  ‘Fucking hell, you look happy. Nancy left you, has she?’ Vinny said, grinning at Ahmed who was sitting at the table opposite him.

  Michael glared at both men. Financially, Ahmed had sod all to do with the club, yet he was always turning up there like a bad penny. It was now common knowledge in the underworld that Ahmed was importing drugs into the capital, which was why Michael hated his family being associated with him. Vinny swore blind he had no involvement in what Ahmed did, but Michael wasn’t so sure. The pair of them were as thick as thieves and Michael wouldn’t put anything past Vinny. His brother was greedy when it came to money and Michael had warned him on more than one occasion that his greed would one day be his downfall. ‘I need a word, in private,’ Michael spat, gesticulating for Vinny to follow him into their office.

  Vinny sauntered in a couple of minutes later. ‘What’s up with you?’

  ‘Graeme Bradley, that’s what. He was murdered last night. A single stab wound to the heart, apparently. But, you already knew that, didn’t you, Vin? Because it was you who organized his death, wasn’t it?’

  Johnny Preston had got a fifteen stretch for what he had done to Roy. Both attempted murder and firearms charges had stood up in court, and it was during the case that Vinny had discovered that Johnny had been living with Graeme Bradley at the time.

  Vinny shook his head. ‘Fuck all to do with me, bruv, and also the first I’ve heard of it. Where was Bradley murdered?’

  ‘Oh, don’t play the innocent with me, Vin. I know the way you tick, I’m your brother. Who did you get to kill him? Was it the same person who you got to murder Karen? Or Terry Smart? Or Kenny Jackson? Please don’t take me for a fool, because I am anything but,’ Michael shouted.

  Vinny was furious. He might have been responsible for those deaths, but not only had he never admitted to his involvement in Karen’s, he certainly knew nothing about Graeme Bradley’s. Rather than punching Michael, which was tempting, Vinny picked up a chair and threw it across the room. ‘Don’t be acting like Billy Big Balls with me, Michael, ’cause you’ll be the loser. I swear on Little Vinny’s life and Mum’s that I had fuck all to do with Graeme Bradley’s murder. I didn’t even know about it until you just told me.’

  Michael knew how superstitious Vinny was about swearing on people’s lives. He also knew that their mum and Little Vinny were probably the only two people Vinny really cared about, apart from himself. Deciding to call a quick truce, Michael held out his right hand. ‘I’m sorry, my mistake.’

  Vinny shook his brother’s hand and grinned. ‘I’m glad Bradley is dead though. Whoever killed the cunt deserves a medal.’

  Queenie Butler sat down opposite her son and handed him a carrier bag. Not once had she ever come to visit Roy empty-handed. She always bought him a treat. ‘There’s two of them chocolate éclairs you like, Roy. Why don’t you eat them now? I’m worried the cream might go off in this heat.’

  ‘Not hungry,’ Roy replied.

  ‘So, why aren’t you dressed and sitting in the lounge with the other patients? Playing games in there, they are,’ Queenie informed her son.

  ‘Didn’t want to get dressed today. I wanted to be alone.’

  Realizing that Roy seemed even more depressed than usual, Queenie changed the subject. ‘So, did Brenda and Dean visit you yesterday?’

  ‘Yeah. They came to see me yesterday afternoon. That daughter of theirs is one spoilt brat,’ Roy said, in his usual slow drawl.

  Queenie nodded, not particularly in agreement, but she did know what Roy meant. Brenda and Dean had got married three years ago, and Dean now worked at the club for Vinny and Michael. Tara was four years old and was a demanding child to say the least. She had been far too spoilt by Brenda especially, and Tara knew if she wanted something, a tantrum would make damn sure she got it. ‘So, did Tara play up then?’ Queenie asked.

  ‘Yes. Has Vinny found me a place near the seaside yet, Mum? I really do not like it here.’

  ‘If you live near the seaside, boy, I’m not going to be able to visit you much. Neither will the rest of the family, will they?’

  Roy’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears. ‘I do not like having visitors. I will be happier near the sea where nobody knows me.’

  Queenie’s eyes filled with tears also. ‘But, I love you, boy, and I will really miss you if you move miles away.’

  Roy grasped his mother’s hand. ‘And I love you too, Mum, but I need a fresh start away from everybody and everything to try and find myself again. You do understand, don’t you?’

  Filled with sadness, Queenie nodded her head. She understood perfectly.

  Brenda and Dean Smart lived in a two-bedroomed council house a few streets away from Queenie’s. Since giving birth to Tara, Brenda had gained a few stone in weight. Instead of walking about in hotpants as she once had, she now tried to hide her bulging stomach and bottom by wearing long baggy tops. Brenda was very paranoid about her weight gain, so much so, it had put a strain on her relationship with her husband. She was forever accusing Dean of having affairs and chasing after other women, even though she had no proof. This erratic behaviour caused nothing but endless rows, and even though her mother had warned her to sort herself out, or risk losing Dean, Brenda couldn’t help flying into rages of jealousy. Nancy was her biggest bugbear. Pretty, slim, wonderful fucking Nancy who everybody seemed to adore, including her Dean.

  Hearing the front door slam, Brenda dashed down the stairs. Dean had taken Tara out this morning and had told her he wouldn’t be long, but they had been gone for over three hours. ‘Where you been? You said you wouldn’t be long.’ Brenda’s voice was full of suspicion.

  ‘I popped in to see my nan. It would have been my dad’s forty-fifth birthday today, and I thought seeing Tara might cheer
her up,’ Dean explained. It was coming up to five years since his father had disappeared, and Dean always now referred to him as dead. Terry Smart had never been seen after leaving the Grave Maurice that fateful Sunday evening, and the police had been just as baffled by his disappearance as Dean. Freda Smart still insisted to this day that her son had been murdered by Vinny Butler, but seeing as he was married to Brenda, Dean had no option other than to think of his brother-in-law as innocent.

  ‘Tara, pop next door and see Melissa. She knocked for you earlier,’ Brenda instructed her daughter. Since Dean had started working nights at the club, their sex life had become almost non-existent and, desperate to add to their family so that Dean could never leave her, Brenda was using every available opportunity that arose to get her husband to make love to her.

  Dean felt like a lamb being led into a slaughterhouse, as he allowed Brenda to drag him up the stairs by his hand. The only way he could even get an erection with her these days was by shutting his eyes and thinking of his brother-in-law’s wife.

  Nancy was beautiful inside and out, and even though Dean knew that she was besotted with Michael, and nothing would ever happen between them, he couldn’t help his feelings for the girl who made his heart leap every time he saw her.

  ‘Hurry up then, Dean, in case Tara comes back,’ Brenda ordered, as she took her knickers off and flung them on the carpet.

  Trying not to look at his wife’s fat naked body, or her miserable face, Dean got undressed, climbed on top of Brenda, closed his eyes, and pictured Nancy.

  ‘Oi, what do you think you are doing?’ Queenie yelled, as she saw a puff of smoke drift out of her nine-year-old grandson’s mouth.

  Little Vinny, who lived with her permanently now, was sitting on her doorstep with his best mate, Ben Bloggs. He expertly trod on his cigarette and kicked it into a nearby bush. ‘Nothing, Nan. Me and Ben are just talking,’ he replied innocently.