‘Well, you won’t have to foot the bill any more, Vinny, because first thing tomorrow, I am leaving you, for good.’
Vinny’s eyes glinted dangerously. ‘Really? And where will you be running off to? Mummy’s and Daddy’s house? Just leave me a forwarding address, so my solicitor can contact you about visitation rights. I take it you will still be wanting to see your daughter occasionally?’
Crying tears of pure anger, Joanna lunged at Vinny, fists flailing. ‘I will never let you take my daughter away from me, you bastard,’ she screamed hysterically.
Feeling his penis stiffen, Vinny grabbed Joanna’s wrists to stop her from hitting him, then kissed her to shut her up. He then gave her what she had been craving for months. A damn good fucking.
Over in Tottenham, Ahmed and Burak were in a local nightclub. Both high on cocaine and in the party spirit, they were sitting at a table with two English girls who spoke, dressed and acted like slags. Having plied the pair with drinks all evening, both men were certain that their luck would be in later.
Ahmed slid his hand up the mini-skirt of the girl who was sitting next to him. ‘Go have a dance with your friend. I need to speak business with my cousin. Come back soon and I will buy champagne,’ he said in the heavy Turkish accent that he used for pulling.
When the girls left the table, Ahmed turned to Burak. ‘I met Christopher again today. That’s why I was late meeting you. It’s all systems go for Thursday. He swears he has not mentioned anything to his superiors, and I have promised to remove one of the bulbs on Vinny’s brake lights, so he has a legit reason to pull us over.’
‘Do you think you can trust him?’ Burak asked. He hated the police with a passion, and was worried his cousin was a fool to trust a cop when there was a risk he might be implicated too.
Ahmed chuckled. ‘The only time he searched me was the first time we met, so I took a chance today and recorded the whole thing. Gonna transfer the convo onto a second tape and leave that one in your safe. No way he can ever nail me now. I even mentioned how he lied about Vinny murdering Dave Phillips.’
Burak chuckled. ‘You are one clever, nasty man, my cousin.’
Ahmed grinned. ‘Aren’t I just?’
‘So, what is the plan? Where is he going to pull you over?’
‘Along the A13, I think. I need to speak to him again tomorrow, because we were interrupted. A message came through on his pager about a little girl being missing and a body being found, and he had to shoot off.’
‘Shame it wasn’t Vinny Butler’s daughter,’ Burak joked.
High on drugs, Ahmed giggled. ‘Bye bye little Molly.’
The following morning, Vinny woke up at the crack of dawn. Joanna was still asleep, so he propped himself up on his elbow and stared at her. The sex between them the previous evening had actually been quite good for once. Because they had been arguing, it had been rough and spontaneous. He had even put his hand around her throat at one point when he was pumping away at her and threatened to kill her if she ever tried to take Molly away from him. Jo had thought he was joking, but he wasn’t, which had made his orgasm even more enjoyable.
When Vinny sidled out of bed, Joanna stirred, then sat up. She hugged a pillow to her chest and smiled. ‘Did you really mean all that you said last night?’
Vinny sat on the edge of the bed, plastered a fake smile on his face and squeezed Joanna’s hand. He was going to contact a top solicitor later today to see where he stood with custodial rights, but he doubted he had a cat in hell’s chance of stopping Joanna walking away with his beloved daughter. That was the reason he had given Joanna all the spiel the previous evening. He had told her everything she wanted to hear, even though it had nearly choked him when he told her he really loved her. ‘Yeah, course I meant it, babe. I’ve been too over-protective with you and I shouldn’t be, because I know deep down I can trust you. I’ll leave some money today and you go to the hairdressers and get your hair done whatever colour you want. You can even have it dyed pink if it makes you happy.’
‘And do you still promise to look after Molly on Thursday while I go up the West End with Nancy?’
‘Yep. But as I said to you last night, you need to be back here by four at the latest, as I have some important business on that day.’
‘I’ll be back by four. We’re going shopping early and as soon as we’ve had lunch, I will come straight home,’ Joanna lied. Nancy had actually offered to drive and accompany her to her parents’ wedding just so she’d have a decent alibi.
‘Right, I’m gonna check on the kids. Once I’ve had a chat with Little Vinny, I’m gonna make my beautiful bird breakfast in bed.’
Grinning broadly, Joanna threw her arms around Vinny’s neck and held him tightly. After their amazing love-making session last night, they had sat up and had a few drinks. That’s when Vinny had admitted that he had lost his sex drive due to the stress of Lenny dying in his arms and him lying about it. ‘I love you,’ Joanna said.
Vinny kissed his girlfriend on the forehead. ‘Love you too, babe.’ He then stood up, turned his back and smirked. Women were so gullible at times, they really were.
‘You OK, Mum? I rang the café. Dad said you was ill, then said something about how you deserved to be,’ Nancy asked.
‘Oh, take no notice of that miserable old sod. I’m in the doghouse, love. We had the Robinses over yesterday and me and Margaret had a bit too much to drink. Been sick as a dog all night, I have, and now I’ve got one of my migraines. Your father was not amused.’
Nancy giggled. She had only ever seen her mum drunk once in her life. She had been about ten at the time and she remembered her father cursing while desperately trying to take her mother’s panty-girdle off, in case it stopped her blood supply while she slept. It had given herself and Christopher something to chuckle about for days afterwards. ‘Did they bring Roger with them?’
‘Yes, and Roger brought his fiancée. Me and your father have been invited to the wedding next June.’
Roger Robins was the boring lad that her father had been trying to fix her up with before she got together with Michael. Her dad had even forced Roger to buy tickets for Top of the Pops once, but even though she’d missed her chance to see Marc Bolan sing live, Nancy didn’t regret turning him down. Roger had been far too embarrassing to be seen out in public with. ‘Is he still really ugly, Mum? What’s his girlfriend like?’
‘Roger’s that ugly he could haunt houses, Nance. As for the girlfriend – you know that programme On the Buses?’
Knowing what her mum was going to say next, Nancy roared with laughter. ‘Don’t tell me she looks like Olive?’
‘Yes, dear. Now, what do you want? I’ve got to go back to sleep in a minute. I feel terrible.’
‘I want you to do me a favour, Mum. Can the boys stay round yours on Wednesday night and you take them to school the next morning? Joanna’s parents are getting married, and I’m her cover story for the day. I don’t want to involve Michael, so we’re pretending to go shopping up the West End. I’ll be back in time to pick the boys up from school.’
‘Yeah, I’ll have the boys. How is that arsehole Vinny treating Jo these days?’
‘Awful, Mum. Which is why I want Jo to be back in contact with her parents. I think they might make her see sense. I’ve got loads to tell you, but you must never repeat it to anybody. Dad and Chris would have a field day.’
‘You know you can trust me, love. Look, I’ve got to go now. I think I’m going to be sick again.’
Queenie Butler was in her conservatory, staring listlessly out of the window, when she heard the post drop through the door.
Shuffling along the hallway in her fluffy slippers, she recognized the writing on the big envelope immediately. It was from Roy’s former fiancée.
Apart from when Colleen had turned up at Roy’s funeral, Queenie hadn’t set eyes on her or Emily-Mae since their move to Ireland. Colleen was married now and last year she’d had a son, but she had never forgotten Queenie
. She wrote to her every few months and would still ring her every Christmas and on Roy’s birthday.
Staring at the latest photos of her granddaughter, Queenie smiled. Emily-Mae was eight now and a pretty little thing. Blonde, with petite features, she looked just like an older version of Molly.
Suddenly feeling sad again, Queenie put the photos on the table. When she had disowned Vinny, she had not given Molly a thought. She loved that little girl with a passion and could not bear it if she was stopped from having regular contact with her. Surely Vinny would not be that petty, would he?
Vinny sat down on the edge of his son’s bed. Had it not been for his mother disowning him, he would have probably given Little Vinny the hiding of his life, but the events of the past twenty-four hours had given him food for thought.
‘Can we have a chat, boy? I’m not angry with you for running away. I’m just sick of us arguing, if you want the truth.’
Little Vinny sat up with a sulky expression on his face. ‘Why did you have to spoil things with me and Shaz? I really liked her.’
‘Vin, you can’t go around lying to birds about your age. It’s not morally right. Did you have sex with Shaz?’
Little Vinny nodded.
‘Well, I hope you had the brains to put something on the end of it.’
‘Shaz said she was on the pill.’
Vinny sighed. ‘Birds are liars, son. You can never trust what they say. In future, you always use something whether they tell you they’re on the pill or not, you get me? Young girls these days just wanna get a council flat or house, and they trap the likes of you to get them up the spout. You don’t wanna be a dad yet, do you?’
Furiously biting his nails, Little Vinny shook his head. ‘Don’t matter now ’cause Shaz hates me anyway.’
‘No, she don’t. She was probably just taken aback by finding out your real age. I didn’t know you’d lied to her, did I? Anyway, there’s plenty more fish in the sea.’
‘But I don’t want another girl, I want Shaz back. Can I go and see her today, Dad, please?’
Vinny ruffled his son’s hair. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, boy. Never mug yourself off with a bird. I learned that the hard way when I weren’t much older than you. Anyway, you’re not allowed out for a while. I want you to work hard at the club and prove to me I can trust you again. Once you’ve done that, I’ll put you on a proper weekly wage. I was thinking fifty quid. How does that grab you?’
Little Vinny managed a smile. ‘That sounds cool, Dad.’
The boy walked out of the young offender’s institution and was led by staff towards the waiting car. ‘In you get, love. And don’t forget what I told you earlier. You be a good boy from now on, because we don’t want to see you back here again, OK?’
The boy nodded, then smiled. Having served three years for stabbing a fellow pupil, he had no intention of returning to this shithole, ever.
As the car pulled away, the boy stared out of the window. If there was one person to blame for everything that had gone wrong in his life, that person was Vinny Butler.
‘You OK, son? What you thinking about?’ the driver asked.
The boy did not reply. He could hardly say the word payback, could he now?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
At five a.m. on the day he was meant to arrest Vinny, Christopher Walker woke up in a sweat. He’d had the most horrendous nightmare about being sacked from the police force, and he knew it must be a sign from God.
Knowing he could not go through with the task of arresting Vinny without proper back-up, Christopher searched through his pockets to find the number Ahmed had given him the previous day in case of an emergency. He stared at it for ages before putting it on his bedside cabinet. It was far too early to ring the Turk, and he needed to think about what he was going to say to him first.
Burak Zane was in a deep sleep when the phone rang. He answered it groggily. ‘What’s up?’
‘Is Ahmed there?’
‘No. Who is this?’
Ahmed had told him that the number he had given him belonged to his cousin’s restaurant, so Christopher had no option but to leave a message. ‘You need to tell Ahmed today is a no go. Tell him to page me.’
When Burak began to abuse him by calling him every name under the sun, Christopher slammed the phone down.
Ahmed had chosen his wife Anna purposely. She was plain, grateful, let him lead his own life and was a superb mother to his children.
However, this morning Anna had woken with a headache, which had left Ahmed with the unusual task of tending to his children’s needs. ‘What does your mum usually give you for breakfast? Toast?’
‘No, we like Sugar Puffs, Daddy.’
He was about to ask where the Sugar Puffs were kept when the phone rang. Ahmed’s heart lurched as he heard what Burak had to say. ‘Why the hell did you not tell Christopher I had him on tape, eh? I told you what to say if he rang up and tried to bottle it.’
‘Don’t be blaming me. As soon as I started to threaten the cunt, he put the phone down. This is all your fault, Ahmed. I told you to forget about the stupid drug bust. There are too many people involved who now know our business. I am not comfortable going ahead with this, not comfortable at all. If you want revenge, just give me the nod. If Vinny loses a child, especially the daughter he adores, this would be far better payback than him going to prison. You have no need to be involved. I can sort it with a click of my fingers.’
Ahmed sighed wearily. ‘I need to think about our next move. I will get back to you within the hour.’
Joanna Preston was a bundle of nerves as she tried to decide what to wear for her parents’ wedding. Worried about Vinny getting suspicious, she opted for shiny black leggings rather than a pretty dress. She then added a smart apple-green jacket with big shoulder pads and matching high-heeled shoes to tart up her outfit.
Vinny wolf-whistled as his girlfriend came down the stairs. He’d had a meeting with a top solicitor on Tuesday about his affray case at Eastbourne and had asked where he stood regarding Molly. The brief had told him not to worry about the affray case. He said he could get the charge watered down to threatening behaviour as long as Vinny pleaded guilty, and his punishment would be no more than a small fine. The situation regarding Molly was far more complex. His brief reckoned he had no chance of gaining parental custody unless he could prove Joanna was a bad mother, which of course he could not. So for the time being at least he had no option but to go on with the charade.
‘Bit done up for shopping, ain’t you, babe? Glad I’m not a bird. Sod trotting about in them high heels all day.’
Even though she felt nervous, Joanna knew she daren’t let it show else Vinny would cotton on to her deceit. Giggling as if she didn’t have a care in the world, she threw her arms around his neck. ‘Well, Nancy’s getting dolled up too. We’re going to Bond Street, so we can’t be dressed like tramps. Then we’re going to eat at a posh restaurant. I love my hair being blonde again, Vin. Thanks so much for paying for me to go to the hairdressers, and for the money to go out today.’
Grinning, Vinny released Joanna’s arms from around his neck and pulled a wad of money out of his pocket. He had met up with Ahmed yesterday and things were looking much brighter now they had changed dealer. He peeled off two hundred quid. ‘’Ere, take this as well. I can’t have you not treating yourself to something nice if you’re going up Bond Street, can I?’
Panicking at the thought of explaining why she’d come home with no shopping bags, Joanna pushed her partner’s hand away. ‘You’ve given me more than enough already. Besides, we’re only planning on a bit of window shopping. We’re mainly going up the West End for lunch.’
Joanna was wearing a tight-fitting black top under her jacket, so Vinny stuffed the money down her cleavage. ‘Babe, I insist. Now, sod off, else you’ll be late meeting Nancy.’
Vivian Harris loved a good detective series. She liked to guess who the baddies were, and nine times out of ten she’d gue
ss right.
Shoestring starring Trevor Eve was Vivian’s latest guilty pleasure, and she was thoroughly enjoying the latest episode until her TV screen went blank. The video recorder had been her fiftieth birthday present from Vinny, and as she struggled to eject the cassette, she was fuming to see the useless machine had chewed the tape up. That was the third cassette it had mullered in the past few weeks.
Absolutely livid, she ripped the plug out, lifted the machine up and carried it out to the back garden. She wanted no reminders of her nephew in her house. Why would she, after what he had done. ‘Load of old crap,’ Vivian yelled, as she smashed the video recorder repeatedly against the concrete.
Queenie happened to be out in her garden hanging her washing out when she heard the commotion. She dropped her washing basket, ran through her house, out the front door and let herself in Viv’s with her own key. ‘Come on, Viv. Let’s go inside,’ Queenie urged.
But Vivian was now on a mission and not about to be deterred. ‘Rubbish! Rubbish! Fucking useless old tut,’ she shrieked, as she continued to smash the life out of the video recorder.
‘Everything OK?’ Mouthy Maureen asked, leaning over the fence.
‘Why don’t you fuck off, you interfering fat cow,’ Queenie yelled, as she finally managed to wrestle the mangled video recorder out of her sister’s grasp.
‘Charming, I must say. I was only trying to help,’ Mouthy Maureen said as she stormed back indoors.
Vivian chuckled as Queenie dragged her up the garden path. ‘I ain’t gone off me head again, if that’s what you think. That bastard machine ripped my Shoestring up.’
Joanna met Nancy at Barking station as previously arranged. ‘Oh my God! We look like twins,’ Jo exclaimed. They had not discussed what they were going to wear and Nancy was kitted out in an almost identical outfit, except her jacket and shoes were turquoise.
‘We are. We’re the terrible twins,’ Nancy chuckled. ‘Well, did Vinny suspect anything?’
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