Donald and Mary knew very little about the East End or its natives. They were North Londoners and had lived in Stoke Newington for many years, but this café in Whitechapel had been far too cheap to turn down, which is why they had decided to up sticks and move.
‘Hello, I’m Donald and this is my wife, Mary. As you have probably already realized, we are the new owners of the café. We officially open for business tomorrow but, would you like a cup of tea or coffee?’ Donald asked, politely.
Shaking her head, the woman held out her right hand. ‘I’m Freda. Freda Smith. I live just around the corner.’
‘And how can you help us?’ Mary enquired. She had a feeling that Freda was about to ask for a job, but there was no chance of that, as her and Donald had spent every penny they had refurbishing the rundown café and were in no position to employ staff just yet.
‘I can help you by telling you why this café has been empty for eighteen long months before you bought it, and why you probably got it for peanuts,’ Freda spat.
Mary gave her husband a worried glance. This café had been half the price of any others they had looked at, and the only one within their meagre price range. But this woman seemed unhinged, somehow, and Mary wondered if she held a grudge against the previous owner.
‘Would you like a glass of water?’ Donald asked. He had noticed that beads of sweat were forming on the woman’s forehead and had now started to drip onto one of his brand new melamine tables.
‘No, don’t want nuffink. Just come to let you know the score. No one else round ’ere will tell you. They’re all too bleedin’ well frightened of ’em, but I ain’t.’
‘Frightened of who?’ Mary asked, perplexed.
‘Frightened of the Butlers. They own that snooker club just around the corner. Old Jack who used to own this café, they killed his son, Peter. Broke his wife Ethel’s heart it did, and if you don’t abide by their rules, they’ll rip the heart out of your family too. I saw you move in. You got two little kids, ain’t ya? Well, if you just do as I say, you’ll be okay. Albie’s the dad. He’s a pisshead, a proper waster. The mother is the brains of the family. Hard-looking old cow called Queenie. Her sister is Vivvy, she has a mongol son, and Queenie’s kids are Vinny, who is the worst out the bunch, Roy, Michael and young Brenda. When they come in here, look after ’em. Serve ’em before any other customers and don’t charge ’em for food or drinks, you get me?’
Seeing the distressed look on his wife’s face, Donald was extremely annoyed. Opening their café tomorrow was meant to be one of the best days of their lives, and yet this mad woman was here, upsetting his Mary and threatening to spoil such a joyous occasion. ‘I can assure you, Freda, that Mary and I will not be giving free drinks or food to anybody and our customers will be served in the order they arrive in. Now, if you don’t mind, could I please ask you to leave? Mary and I still have lots of work to do before we open tomorrow and we have very little time left to accomplish that task.’
Absolutely furious that her sound advice hadn’t been listened to, Freda stood up, stomped towards Donald and poked him in the chest. ‘Dig your own grave, what do I care? But, don’t say I didn’t warn you. The Butlers, remember the name,’ she yelled, as Donald escorted her out of the cafe.
‘Oh my God! What have we done, Donald? And who the hell are the Butlers?’ Mary said, when her husband locked the door.
Donald took his wife in his arms. At six foot, he towered over Mary’s five-foot frame. He was the man of the family and protect her he would. ‘Do not worry yourself, my darling. Freda is obviously the mad local scaremonger. And even if that Butler family do come in here, we won’t have any problems with them, I can absolutely assure you of that.’
Nestling herself against Donald’s broad chest, Mary breathed a sigh of relief. Her husband’s instincts were never wrong.
Five minutes later the jukebox was back on and Mary and Donald were working happily side by side, singing in unison to the Beatles’ ‘Help!’. What they didn’t realize was that, in the not too distant future, they would be needing help themselves. Every word that Freda Smart had spoken happened to be the truth. She wasn’t mad, nor was she a scaremonger. She was just a realist who had done her utmost to warn a decent family of the perils of moving to Whitechapel.
Acknowledgments
Firstly, a massive thank you to my editor, Sarah Ritherdon, and the team at HarperCollins for the fabulous opportunity that I have been given.
As always, love and gratitude to my agent, Tim Bates,
my typist, Sue Cox, and Rosie de Courcy.
I would like to thank all the readers of my books for
all your fantastic support, messages, reviews, etc.
And last but not least, a special thank you to my dear friend, Lady Heller. Thanks for the quote, sweetheart, with love from your posh pal, The Duchess!!
About the Author
Kimberley Chambers lives in Romford and has been, at various times, a disc jockey and a street trader. She is now a full-time writer and is the author of six previous novels.
Also by Kimberley Chambers
Billie Jo
Born Evil
The Betrayer
The Feud
The Traitor
The Victim
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Harper
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Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
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A Paperback Original 2012
1
Copyright © Kimberley Chambers 2012
Kimberley Chambers asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
EPub Edition © April 2012 ISBN: 978 0 00 743502 9
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
>
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Epilogue
Read on for an extract from Kimberley’s next book: The Trap
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Kimberley Chambers
Copyright
About the Publisher
Schemer Page 50