The Trap

by Kimberley Chambers

  Naked, apart from a pair of tiny lacy red panties, Layla forced a smile. ‘Shall I take them trousers off for you?’

  ‘Can I touch your titties first?’ Lenny asked, bluntly.

  Layla put Lenny’s hands on her breasts, then winced as he squeezed them roughly, poked his tongue out of the side of his mouth, and began to pant like a thirsty dog.

  Just the thrill of Layla undoing his zip sent Lenny’s senses into overdrive, and when she put her hand on his todger, unable to hold back any more, Lenny shot his load.

  Relieved that it was all over so quickly, Layla stood up. ‘What you doing?’ Lenny asked, when Layla put her panties and bra back on.

  ‘Getting dressed, love. Why don’t you do the same?’

  ‘Because my cousin paid you a fifty quid so I could bang you, and I haven’t banged you yet. Have you heard of my cousin? His name is Vinny Butler.’

  Layla all but froze. Vinny had a terrible reputation on the circuit. One brothel in Soho had even banned Vinny from their premises, and had then had their property mys-teriously burnt to the ground a few weeks later. Lenny sat up with another massive hard-on and a big grin on his face. ‘Well?’ he asked.

  Too scared to now refuse, Layla got undressed again and sidled up next to Lenny on the bed. When his sloppy mouth connected with hers and his tongue nigh on shot down the back of her throat, Layla couldn’t help but gag. What followed was the worst shag and the longest ten minutes of her miserable life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Johnny Preston excitedly ripped open his letter. He knew it was from his ex-wife as she had such distinctive handwriting.

  When Johnny had first got banged-up, he and his wife had fallen out big-time. Appalled by his affair and the crime he had committed, Deborah had divorced him, but over the past couple of years, they had become really good pals once again. Deborah even came to visit him once a month now.

  In prison, letters were the main link to the outside world, and Johnny liked to take his time reading his so he could savour every word and imagine every event in them. Johnny Junior was sixteen now and had just got his first job in a restaurant in Colchester. He was a trainee chef, and Johnny knew that he got his love of cooking from his mother’s side of the family, as he himself could barely boil an egg.

  Johnny’s relationship with his son was an awkward one. The boy had very few communication skills, dressed like a freak, and walked about in eyeliner at times to emulate his hero, David Bowie.

  When Johnny got to the part of the letter where Deborah described how his daughter Joanna was having the time of her life, he smiled but then frowned.

  Joanna had gone to a holiday camp for an Easter break earlier in the year with her best pal Chloe, and Chloe’s parents. The girls had fallen in love with the place and had decided to give up their boring jobs working side by side in a factory to work at the holiday camp for the summer season. They had wanted to be bar staff, but were too young. So instead, both girls had taken jobs as cleaners.

  Joanna working at a holiday camp miles away from home worried Johnny greatly. With her long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, ample breasts and tall, lithe figure, Joanna was a real head-turner. In prison, your mind tended to work in overdrive, mainly through boredom, and many a night Johnny had lain awake tormenting himself with the thought of young lads trying it on with his pride and joy. He was at it like a rabbit when he was seventeen and he just hoped Joanna had more sense than to fall for the spiel like he used to dish out on a regular basis.

  Joanna had had a boyfriend before leaving Tiptree, but that had now fizzled out, thankfully. Deborah was adamant that their daughter had her head screwed on and he was worrying unnecessarily, but Johnny couldn’t help the way he felt. What father wouldn’t worry about his stunning young daughter living miles away from home in a chalet with three other young girls?

  Vinny woke up with a head that felt like lead and a mouth as dry as sandpaper. Ahmed had started importing cocaine a few months ago and Vinny had become a silent partner in his new enterprise. What Vinny hadn’t anticipated was he and Ahmed snorting a chunk of the profits themselves.

  Vinny had never been a drug-taker in the past. He saw himself as far too cool to go down that rocky road, but there was something about cocaine that he liked. It was a social drug, and from the moment Vinny had first tried it, he hadn’t been able to leave it alone.

  Walking gingerly into the bathroom, Vinny turned on the tap, doused his face in cold water, and stared at himself in the mirror. He was thirty-one now, and with his jet-black hair and piercing green eyes was still a handsome bastard. ‘You need to sort yourself out, Vinny boy. Don’t wanna lose them good looks of yours, do you now?’ he mumbled, trying to talk some sense into himself.

  ‘Vinny, your mum and aunt are here, and a man called George has rung three times this morning. He wants you to ring him back, says it’s urgent. I’m going now,’ Vinny heard his cleaner shout out.

  ‘OK. Tell my mum I’ll be down in a tick,’ Vinny said.

  Vinny opened his address book and, with adrenaline pumping through his veins, rang George Geary’s number. Even though George had retired as Chief Inspector a while back, he was still fond of a bung. ‘George, it’s me. You got ’em?’

  ‘Yes, I have. Very pretty girl. Now, where shall we meet? It took my contact an extra day to get these, Vinny, so I’m afraid the price is higher than we originally discussed.’

  ‘How much?’ Vinny asked, in a bored tone. George had always bled him dry when he was in the force, and nothing had changed since.

  ‘Seven fifty, instead of five hundred, that OK? He had to stay down there an extra day.’

  ‘Yep, that’s fine. Bring the goods here in about an hour, and I expect them to be clear for that kind of dosh.’

  ‘As clear as a freshly polished pane of glass, they are. That Turk isn’t there, is he, Vinny? You know how I like to keep our business private,’ George remarked.

  ‘Nope. Listen, me mother is down stairs, and I can hear her calling my name. Say one o’clock, eh? Apart from me, no bastard will be here then, I promise.’

  George Geary only had to pay his contact a third of what he had charged Vinny, so it had been a nice little earner for him. ‘OK. See you at one.’

  Vinny felt his heart race as he replaced the receiver. He had bided his time on his quest for revenge until the fruit was actually ripe.

  Dean Smart had not had the best of mornings. His lovely wife had spewed her guts up in the night, and had left a trail of it all over the bedroom carpet and bathroom floor. Tara had been playing up something chronic for the past couple of hours and now, to top it all, his nan had just rung him in floods of tears mumbling something about cancer and having to go into hospital for an operation.

  ‘Dad, I’m bored. Play a game with me,’ Tara whinged.

  ‘I can’t love. I’ve got to go out. Your nan isn’t well, so you’ll have to stay here with Mummy.’

  Looking extremely dishevelled, Brenda sat up. ‘Where you going? And why can’t you take Tara with you?’ she asked suspiciously.

  Focusing on his wife, Dean felt nauseous himself. Her hair was matted with sick, her mascara had run, she looked as fat as a bull, and her left tit was hanging out of her nightdress. ‘If you don’t sort yourself out and get off my case, Bren, I swear on Tara’s life, I will leave you.’

  ‘No, Daddy. You can’t leave us,’ Tara screamed.

  When Dean left the room, Brenda chased after him. ‘Well, we will see what my brothers have to say about that, won’t we, Dean? Don’t think Vinny will be too happy when he finds out you are threatening to leave his sister and niece.’

  ‘Go fuck yourself, Brenda,’ Dean yelled, as he flung open the front door.

  ‘No, you go fuck yourself. You will never be allowed to leave me, Dean Smart, and you know it,’ Brenda shrieked.

  Another couple currently at war was Michael and Nancy. Michael had not been happy at all when Nancy had made a show of him the previous d
ay. ‘Look, Nance, can’t we sort this out? Why aren’t you talking to me? If anyone should have the hump, then that should be me. You made me look a right prick in front of my family. I saw Vinny and Ahmed fucking laughing at me.’

  ‘Aw, poor you. Do you honestly think I give a damn about your psycho of a brother and his slimy Turkish friend, Michael? How do you think I felt, eh? There I was sitting in a restaurant with my two children and in walks your ex and your first-born. To say I was embarrassed was putting it bloody mildly. I felt a complete and utter fool.’

  Unaware that his eldest son was ear-wigging outside the door, Michael gave it to Nancy. ‘Fucking sick of this, I am. You knew the score with the kid when we first got wed, and you knew all about Denise. I binned her for you, for Christ’s sake. You can be so immature at times, Nancy. Why shouldn’t Lee be part of the family and get to know his brothers, eh? Daniel and Adam are better learning the truth now, than when they are older.’

  The conversation was interrupted by Daniel bursting into the room with Adam in tow. ‘Have we got another brother, Dad? Can we meet him?’ Daniel asked excitedly.

  Calling Michael every name under the sun, Nancy picked up her handbag and fled the house.

  Vinny opened the back door of the club and ushered George Geary inside. Geary was a funny one. Years ago when he was Chief Inspector and on the make, he would knock at the front door as bold as brass. Yet now he had retired, he would only use the back entrance as he was afraid of being seen. ‘Where are they then?’ Vinny asked impatiently.

  ‘Hold your horses, boy. What’s the rush? Sweating me cobs off in this poxy heat. I could kill a nice Scotch on the rocks to cool myself down a bit. Never known a summer like this before. Bleedin’ hosepipe ban now. Can’t even water my garden.’

  Not in the mood to make polite conversation about the weather or George’s garden, Vinny grunted, walked behind the bar and poured two large Scotches. ‘’Ere you go,’ he said, putting the drinks down on a table. ‘Well?’

  Geary took a piece of paper out of his pocket. ‘That’s it. The girl is in chalet number twenty-five. She works there as a cleaner.’

  Vinny stared at the address. Kings Holiday Park, Pevensey Bay, Eastbourne. He had known the girl had been living in Eastbourne, had even visited the area twice to try to track her down himself. That’s how he had spotted the nice care home that he was taking Roy to view tomorrow. ‘And the photos?’ Vinny mumbled.

  ‘Money first,’ Geary demanded, holding out his right hand.

  Vinny handed Geary an envelope. It amazed him that the man still asked for the money up front when he had dealt with him for almost thirteen years and had never once knocked him for a penny.

  ‘Pretty girl, isn’t she? I hope you’re not planning on doing anything too nasty to her,’ Geary stated, feeling slightly anxious.

  Vinny didn’t answer. The girl looked a bit like Nancy, but her hair was more strawberry blonde, her figure more voluptuous and she had far bigger breasts. ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, George, but you won’t be involved, will you? I have to get some sort of revenge for my brother, but don’t worry, it will all be handled discreetly.’

  Feeling himself shudder, Geary stood up. ‘Give me that piece of paper back so I can dispose of it. It’s my handwriting.’

  Vinny handed it to him, then followed Geary to the back door. ‘Thanks, mate. I’ll be in touch if I need anything else.’

  Geary nodded. ‘And a word of advice, boy. Take a step back from that Turk. He is bad news.’

  Not wanting to get into a conversation regarding Ahmed, Vinny nodded, closed the door, and leant against it. He stared at the photos again. Joanna Preston certainly was a pretty little minx, and what he would do to her only time would tell. The one thing he was sure of was that whatever he did, it would upset her bastard of a father greatly.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The following morning, Vinny picked up his mother, aunt, and son at nine a.m. then drove to East Ham to collect Roy. He usually loved a family outing, but not today. The plan had been that he and Ahmed were going to take a drive down to Eastbourne to check out the care home. Then, on the same day, they were going to take a good look around Kings Holiday Park and see if they could spot their victim. Now his plan had been scuppered by his mother’s insistence that the whole clan should travel down to Eastbourne, Vinny would have to return again tomorrow with Ahmed.

  Even though he had a top-of-the-range Jaguar XJ6 which was roomy, travelling with Roy in the back was a task in itself. His brother couldn’t seem to get comfortable and was complaining constantly. When Roy suddenly shouted at his nephew for asking how long it was before they arrived at Eastbourne, Vinny couldn’t help but react. ‘For fuck’s sake, Roy, give us all a break, will ya? You’ve already had a go at Mum twice. We are all here to support you, you know. You wanted to move near the sea and I’ve worked my bollocks off to find you somewhere decent. Can’t you just be grateful for once?’

  Roy could only show emotion on one side of his face, so curled his lip, and glared at Vinny. He might have suffered major brain trauma, but he still had his marbles. Roy knew exactly what a liability Vinny was years ago. What he hadn’t expected was to end up a cripple because of his brother’s mistakes. Roy had tears rolling down his face as he forced his words out in his usual slow tone. ‘You expect me to be grateful to you, Vinny. It’s your fault that I have lost Colleen, my child, my ability to walk, talk properly, and my life. I don’t even class you as my brother any more.’

  Queenie and Vivian were in the back either side of Roy, and after glancing at one another, it was Vivian who broke the ice. ‘Now, don’t be like that, Roy. Vinny loves you, we all do. You’re just a bit low at the moment, but wait until you get some of that seaside air down you. My old neighbour used to go to Eastbourne for her holidays every year and said it was a lovely place.’

  Sitting in the passenger seat, Little Vinny looked around and stared at Roy. He had never liked his uncle even when he had been normal. Little Vinny had a memory like an elephant and even though he had only been young at the time he could remember having a feeling that his Uncle Roy didn’t like him much either. ‘Don’t talk to my dad like that,’ he spat.

  Vinny felt a warm glow inside of him. His wonderful son had just backed him like a true Butler should. ‘Can we stop all this nastiness now, please? We are meant to be family and I’m trying to drive,’ he said, treating his son to a wink of approval.

  Queenie got a tissue out of her bag and wiped the per-spiration from Roy’s forehead. She loved both her sons and felt torn between the devil and the deep blue sea.

  Vinny turned up the volume on the radio. ‘Mum, Auntie Viv, it’s your favourite record. Let’s have a sing-a-long, eh?’

  Demis Roussous was currently topping the charts with a song called ‘Forever and Ever’ and as his two favourite women in the world started to sing it at the tops of their voices, Vinny grinned. He loved his family, Roy included, and why should he feel guilty? His brother had got shot, he hadn’t, end of.

  Brenda was absolutely livid when Dean rolled home at lunchtime. Never had he stayed out all night before, and when his key went in the lock, Brenda began punching her husband before he could even get his foot over the threshold. ‘Where you been? You’ve been with another woman, haven’t you?’

  When Tara started sobbing and screaming at her mother to leave her father alone, Dean grabbed Brenda’s wrists. ‘You’re upsetting our daughter. I stayed at my nan’s house if you must know. She has cancer, Bren. She might die.’

  About to call her husband a liar, Brenda stopped herself. Dean loved his nan. She had almost singlehandedly brought him up, and Brenda knew there was no way he would say she had cancer if she didn’t. ‘I’m sorry about your nan, and I’m sorry for hitting you. I’m sick of all this arguing, Dean, aren’t you? Can’t we just make up and forget all about this stupid row? You do still love me, don’t you?’

  Dean had no choice other than to lie. ‘Ye
ah. ’Course I do.’

  Nancy opened the front door and hugged her mum as though she were a child again.

  ‘Whatever’s happened now? I didn’t want to ask you on the phone because your dad was lurking nearby. Don’t want him to have anything to gloat about, do we now?’

  ‘Mum, where has Dad gone? Do you hate him?’ Daniel asked innocently, tugging at Nancy’s skirt.

  Nancy picked Daniel up and kissed him. Her sons were so much like Michael. Both had inherited his jet-black hair and green eyes. ‘Of course I don’t hate your dad. All mummies and daddies row sometimes. Now why don’t you take Adam into the garden and play in your swimming pool while I have a chat with your nan?’

  ‘Have I really got another brother, Mum?’

  ‘No, not a proper brother, love. Now, go outside and cool yourself down. You’re all hot and sweaty.’

  When Daniel and Adam ran outside, Mary sat down on the sofa and urged her daughter to do the same. ‘So, how does Daniel know about Lee? Did Michael tell him?’

  Explaining what had happened at the restaurant and since, Nancy was rather surprised by her mother’s reaction.

  ‘I really do feel that now it’s all out in the open, you should perhaps let Daniel and Adam meet their brother. They’re only nippers, Nance, and I bet they’ll get on well with Lee.’

  ‘No, Mum. It’s not right. Michael knew from the start that I didn’t want Lee to be part of my life, so I don’t see why I should suddenly welcome the child with open arms. I have enough on my plate with Daniel and Adam, without looking after a third.’

  ‘But, you won’t have to look after him, Nance. Michael won’t just dump him on you, will he?’

  ‘Why are you on Michael’s side, eh, Mum? You’re meant to be on mine.’ Nancy’s voice was bitter.

  ‘I’m not on anyone’s side, love. I just don’t want to see you ruin something special. Relationships need working at. I should know, I’ve suffered your father for years. Sometimes, you have to learn to give and take to make things work. Where is Michael by the way?’