‘I dunno what to say. I can’t thank you enough, lads.’ Mr Arthur’s eyes welled up with tears. ‘I really didn’t think I was going to see these again. The VC’s worth a lot of money, I think.’
‘A word of advice, Mr Arthur. It’s up to you, but Whitechapel isn’t the area it once was and if I was you I wouldn’t wear the VC when you go out in future. Too many chancers about these days, unfortunately. If you want, I can lock it in my safe at the club for you?’ Vinny offered.
‘No. I might be wary answering my front door, but I’ll never let the bastards get the better of me, Vinny. If I stop wearing it, they’ve won the battle. I won’t let them defeat me.’
Michael and Vinny glanced at one another, full of admiration for the elderly gentleman.
‘I’ve had a word with the carpenter pal of mine,’ said Vinny. ‘He’ll be popping round tomorrow afternoon to sort that door out for you, Mr Arthur. I told him to leave it until after half three as I know you like your lunchtime pint.’
‘Thank you so much. You really are kind. As for them other so-and-sos, they better not be in the pub when I get there tomorrow, else they’ll get some of this,’ Mr Arthur said, lifting up his walking stick.
Michael chuckled. ‘You won’t be getting any more grief off them, trust me. They’ve both been sent packing with their little tails between their legs.’
Mr Arthur smiled. ‘Good boys, yous two. Last of a dying breed.’
Vinny winked. ‘You know our motto, Mr Arthur. Same as yours in the war: An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’
‘Well? How did it go? Where’s Michael?’ Queenie Butler asked.
Vinny grinned. ‘Pour us a Scotch and I’ll tell you all about it.’
Queenie Butler clapped her hands with glee as Vinny related the day’s events. ‘That’s my boys! Was the Maurice banged out?’ she enquired.
‘Fairly busy. Not like the old days though. About forty-odd in there, I’d say. Nosy Hilda was there though, so you can guarantee the whole of the East End will know by now.’ Vinny laughed.
‘Well, that’ll give the tale-bearers something to dine out on for a while, eh? I am so chuffed you got Mr Arthur’s medals back. I bet he was over the moon. What did he say to you?’
Vinny repeated the conversation. ‘Touched me and Michael right ’ere, it did,’ he said, patting the skin covering his heart. ‘To think men like him and his brother laid their lives on the line and fought tooth and nail for this country, and for what? To be disrespected and end his days living in the dump Whitechapel has now become? Seriously, Mum, you have to move. Me and Michael walked along that High Road earlier and thought we were in a different fucking country. And this ain’t just about the foreigners. The newer breed of English round ’ere now are scum. State of ’em – pure shitbags.’
‘Don’t start all that again, Vinny. Me and Vivvy are quite happy living ’ere, thank you very much.’
Vinny held his hands up. ‘OK, I rest my case. But when it gets even worse in the next ten or twenty years and something bad happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
When Queenie mocked her son and called him a ‘worry-pot’ she truly had no idea that one day his words would come back to haunt her, big time.
CHAPTER TWO
Michael Butler shot his load, kissed Katy Spencer on the forehead, then tumbled out of bed.
‘Do you want me to leave now?’ Katy asked awkwardly. She’d been working for Michael for the last twelve weeks, but it was only this past month they’d been a couple, so to speak.
‘Yeah, you’d better make tracks. The lads are coming in early today, and we don’t want them knowing jack-shit, do we?’
Katy put on the glittery mini-dress she’d worn the previous evening, then draped her arms around Michael’s neck. She could never get enough kisses off her man. At thirty-six, Michael was fifteen years Katy’s senior. But with his dark hair, piercing green puppy-dog eyes and cheeky schoolboy grin, he looked much younger. Katy wasn’t bothered about the age gap. She’d been obsessed with Michael since the first day she’d laid eyes on him, and her friends couldn’t believe how lucky she was to be waking up in his bed.
Michael gently released Katy’s grip around his neck. Shagging his twenty-one-year-old housekeeper/nanny hadn’t been the cleverest move he’d ever made, especially since she’d taken it upon herself to keep turning up at the club.
‘Will I see you tonight?’
‘Not tonight, babe. I’ve got a bit of business to attend to,’ Michael lied.
Katy’s expression changed from hopeful to crestfallen. ‘OK. Do you want me to ring you after the boys have had their breakfast?’
‘Yeah. That’ll be cool. And remember, keep us to yourself. I don’t want Lee and Daniel finding out. It’s too soon after their mum.’
Katy smiled. Michael’s words led her to believe that he was in it for the long haul. Apart from her friends, she’d told nobody. Her parents were both regular church-goers who would have a fit if they thought she was dating Michael Butler.
When Katy left, Michael sat down on the edge of the bed and put his weary head in his hands. Shagging Katy was all Bella’s fault, and Vinny’s. His brother had convinced him jumping back in the saddle would help mend his broken heart. It hadn’t worked. Fucking Katy meant nothing to him. It was just sex and would never be anything else.
Bella D’Angelo packed the rest of hers and her son’s belongings into the Gucci suitcases. She couldn’t stay in Sicily any longer. It was doing her head in and, as much as she adored them, so were her parents.
‘Mummy, will Michael be coming to see us when the plane lands?’
Bella stroked the hair of her pride and joy. Antonio would be five soon and he was a wonderful child. Polite and intelligent, her son had everybody he met eating out the palm of his hand. Apart from his dark hair and piercing green eyes, he was thankfully nothing like his father.
‘Rupert’s picking us up from the airport, darling. Mummy has lots of work to catch up on,’ Bella explained, referring to her gay PA. Rupert had been running her modelling agency while she’d been skulking in Italy.
‘Will Michael be waiting for us in Chelsea when we get home?’ Antonio persisted.
Bella forced a smile. ‘We’ll see Michael soon. Now go and spend some time with Nonna and Nonno. They’re going to miss you so very much.’
When Antonio skipped happily away, Bella felt that awful lurch in her stomach that she experienced so often these days. She loved Michael Butler with all her heart, but was dreading looking him in the eyes. Fate was a bastard at times, it really was.
‘Morning, Mum. You OK?’ Vinny Butler asked.
‘Not bad, love. Ava’s gonna play over at Susan’s with Destiny while we’re at the cemetery. We can pick her up before we go to lunch,’ Queenie informed her son.
Sneering, Vinny shook his head. ‘I ain’t having her going in Stinky Susan’s shithole. She’ll catch lice or something worse. She can come with us.’
‘She doesn’t want to come because she can’t bring Fred. You know what a little madam she is. Had the screaming abdabs earlier when I suggested the mutt stay at home.’
Vinny chuckled. Ava was a character all right, a real chip off the old block.
Hearing squeals of delight coming from the garden, Vinny looked out the window. Ava was running up and down the lawn and Fred was chasing her. The mutt had been a great addition to the family, the perfect distraction for the kid after her mother died. Ava rarely mentioned her mum at all these days. She was far too obsessed with Fred to miss Joanna.
‘The dog can come with us an’ all, Mum.’
‘We can’t take him over the cemetery, Vin. The little sod’s dug massive holes in my lawn. He’ll dig some poor bastard up over there.’
When Ava spotted her father watching her, she ran inside the house. Hands on hips, her Butler-green eyes sparking with anger, she announced, ‘Nanny said Fred can’t come with us, so I not going.’
Vinny picked his f
our-year old daughter up and tickled her until she begged him to stop. He hadn’t even known of her existence until a couple of years ago, had found out while he was in prison. He knew he spoilt her, but why shouldn’t he?
When Vinny told Ava the mutt could join them, Queenie scolded her son. ‘Why do you always give into her? She knows she can play you and that’s why she misbehaves. It’s me that cares for her most of the time, boy, and you’re making my job difficult. Sees you as the knight in shining armour and me as the wicked old witch.’
Vinny laughed. ‘I’ve been seen as worse, Mum. Far worse. And so have you.’
Hormonal teenagers, Daniel and Lee Butler nudged one another and giggled as Katy bent over to get the hash browns out of the oven. Daniel especially had been peeved when their father had announced that he’d employed a housekeeper to pop round every day to help out with the chores. Daniel had guessed part of her job would be keeping an eye on him and Lee. However, as soon as the boys had laid eyes on Katy they’d changed their tune.
Katy Spencer had straight blonde hair that reached her bum, brown eyes, and the longest legs Daniel had ever seen. At five foot nine, she towered over him and Lee. Both boys were besotted with her and although neither would admit it, Katy had been the focus of their first ever wank.
‘Who wanted sausage and who wanted bacon?’ Katy asked.
Putting his hand over his mouth to control his laughter, thirteen-year-old Daniel whispered in his fourteen-year-old brother’s ear. ‘She can have my sausage any time.’
When both boys laughed uncontrollably, Katy smirked and stirred the baked beans. She was well aware of the effect she had on Daniel and Lee, and found it highly amusing. She could hardly wait to see the look on their little faces when they were told she was going to be their new mother.
Michael Butler laid the flowers on his son’s grave. Adam was his youngest child, and had been such a loveable kid. He’d been killed last year, messing about with his brothers running across train tracks, got his foot caught. Adam’s little body had been chopped into pieces by the oncoming train, God rest his soul.
Michael glanced at his watch, then lit a cigarette. He’d wanted to sell his house to rid himself of the constant reminders of Adam, but Daniel and Lee had begged him not to. Rather than put his sons through any more trauma, Michael had taken the property off the market for the time being.
Spotting his mother and Vinny in the distance, Michael walked towards them. Today would’ve been his brother Roy’s thirty-ninth birthday, hence the meet.
Dressed in a long black coat, Queenie Butler linked arms with her strapping sons. Lots of people had stopped her in the street, praising her boys for getting Mr Arthur’s medals back, and Queenie was extremely proud of them. Vinny, her first-born, owned a gentleman’s club in Holborn, while the Whitechapel club that Vinny and Roy had purchased as teenagers now belonged solely to Michael.
‘You all right, Mum?’ Michael asked.
‘I’ve had better days, boy. But what can ya do? No bringing back the dead, is there?’
The Enemy put the hood up on his sweatshirt before he got on the train. He’d been away so long, he doubted anybody would recognize him, but it was better to be safe than sorry. One of the conditions of his early release was that he didn’t travel out of Dagenham. He was currently living in a hostel there, although the nice lady at the council had promised to try and find him a flat.
Happy memories of time spent with his dad and grandparents flooded his thoughts. He never allowed himself to think about his mother any more. She’d washed her hands of him when he’d done what he did, and the Enemy was glad. She was a slag and an embarrassment to him.
When the train stopped at Whitechapel station, he leapt off and walked towards the road where Queenie and Vivian lived. His nan had despised those pair and so did he, especially Queenie. It was she who’d raised the monsters who had ruined his life, and he would now repay her in full. See how she liked her nearest and dearest bumped off for no good fucking reason. Queenie Butler would suffer all right – he’d make damn sure of it.
As proud as a peacock, Queenie Butler strutted along Roman Road market with her sons either side of her. It was rare they accompanied her here, especially on a busy market day and she was aware of the dolly birds’ admiring glances. So handsome her boys were. Stood out in a crowd wherever they went.
‘Daddy, that nasty lady nearly stood on Fred,’ Ava squealed.
‘Carry the dog for her, Mum. Me and Michael can’t exactly walk about cuddling a lapdog, we have a reputation to uphold,’ Vinny chuckled.
When her sons were suddenly surrounded by a group of people wanting to chat with them and shake their hands, Queenie could’ve burst with pride. She’d raised her boys to be somebodies in life and they’d exceeded all her expectations. Feared and respected in equal measure, Vinny and Michael were now seen as kings of the East End. The only family who could even hold a candle to her boys were the Mitchells out of Canning Town, and they were Vinny and Michael’s friends.
‘Nanny, I want a poo-poo,’ Ava announced, tugging her grandmother’s arm.
Telling her boys she would meet them in five minutes outside Woolworths, Queenie led Ava towards the nearest toilets.
‘Is my daddy famous, Nan?’ Ava enquired innocently.
Queenie couldn’t help but smile. ‘Yes, darlin’. Your daddy is a legend.’
After indulging in pie and mash for lunch, Vinny Butler suggested they leave behind the hustle and bustle of the market, and instead have a drink in the Palm Tree.
‘Not been in this boozer since your loser of a father brought me ’ere when we were courting. It’s not changed much. Got a good old days feel about it,’ Queenie reminisced.
‘Roy brought Colleen here as well. The day he proposed down the Roman, they came here to celebrate afterwards. You heard from that slag lately?’
‘Don’t call her that, Vin. Colleen is a decent girl, that’s why your brother loved her. I know you think she moved on too fast, but it was Roy who ended things with her. She was brilliant, caring for him after the accident.’
Roy Butler had been shot in the head outside his club in the early seventies – hit by a bullet that had been meant for Vinny. When he finally awoke from his coma, he’d been told that he’d never walk again. For a respected man who’d lived to walk the walk and talk the talk, it was a crushing blow. Unable to cope with his disabilities, Roy had ended his own life in 1976 – by shooting himself in the head. He left behind one child, Emily Mae, who lived in Ireland.
Michael raised his glass. ‘To a top brother and a true legend.’
Vinny and Queenie chinked glasses. ‘To Roy,’ they said in unison.
Bella D’Angelo shut her eyes, thankful that Antonio was fast asleep at last. She badly needed some thinking time.
It had been nine years ago that she first set eyes on Michael Butler, back in the spring of 1977. She’d gone to the Carpenter’s Arms with a pal, and her first memory of the immaculately turned out man she would fall in love with was how much he looked like the pop star David Essex.
Their affair had been short and sweet, but so very passionate. Michael had admitted to Bella early on in their relationship that he was in love with her, but he’d still chosen to end things. He’d been married to Nancy at the time and had called it a day for the sake of his young sons.
Shortly after Michael broke up with her, Bella moved to New York to start afresh. Back then she’d been a catwalk queen herself, so there’d been no shortage of male admirers. Bella had dated many, but none had matched up to Michael. It was on one of her trips back to London that Bella had met Antonio’s father. She’d been in a club up town with a friend and had spotted a guy who had reminded her of Michael. He wasn’t quite as good looking, but had the same colour hair, green eyes and that same gruff East End accent.
A steamy sex session had followed in a hotel. Bella had been rather tipsy, and had totally let her hair down. It had been her idea to indulge in a bit of
dirty role play. How ashamed she felt about that now.
‘You OK, Mummy?’
Bella opened her eyes and smiled at her beloved boy. She was anything but OK, had even toyed with staying in Italy for good. But she could not get Michael out of her mind. Nights were the worst. His handsome face would haunt her dreams and she’d wake up happy, until remembering the party and the smirking face of the bastard who’d fathered Angelo. No way could Michael ever find out what she’d done. It would totally destroy him.
Strolling confidently into the fishing-tackle shop, the Enemy headed straight for the counter. ‘I need a decent filleting knife, mate.’
The owner asked his age, then showed him half a dozen. ‘That one’s your best bet, but it’s expensive. Like most things in life, you pay for what you get.’
‘I’ll take it,’ he replied, taking a wad of notes out of his tracksuit pocket. He wasn’t short of dosh. He’d sold cannabis resin while inside, and was continuing to do so now he was out.
Fifteen minutes later, the Enemy was on a District Line train on his way back to Dagenham. He hoped his dad and granddad were looking down from heaven and were proud of him. That’s if his granddad was even in heaven, of course. Rumour had it, Vinny had put him in a cement mixer and he was now propping up the flyover along the A13. That’s what Billy Carver reckoned anyway.
Turning his thoughts to his purchase, the Enemy smirked. Fish were harmless and didn’t deserve to be filleted. As for the Butlers …
CHAPTER THREE
‘Morning, Queen. Silly-boy lemon’s strutting up and down the garden again with his holster and cowboy hat on.’
Queenie chuckled. She and her sister Vivian lived next door but one to each other, and the neighbours in between them were a proper pair of notrights. They were harmless enough though and provided Queenie and Viv with hours of entertainment.
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