Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection

by Kimberley Chambers

  ‘She’s pissed, Mum. Smells like a brewery,’ Vinny said.

  ‘Where’s Tommy and Tara?’ Queenie asked.

  ‘Scotty’s younger sister is looking after them. We brought her with us on holiday so me and Scott could have a bit of us time, but that’s all gone tits-up now, thanks to my cunt of a brother, hasn’t it? Scotty has told me it’s over. He’s packing his case as we speak and he doesn’t even want to drive me and the kids back to London,’ Brenda screamed.

  Noticing that the neighbours had ventured outside to be nosy, Queenie chose her words carefully and lowered her usually loud voice. ‘Don’t you dare call your brother such an awful word. He has always had your best interests at heart, ever since you was born, and if your boyfriend isn’t man enough to take a headbutt, then he isn’t the man for you.’

  ‘Headbutt! Scott nearly fucking died! He was out cold for ten minutes, so no wonder he wants to bin me. How will I ever hang on to a boyfriend or husband while I’m part of this family, eh? I bet it was you who drove Dean away,’ Brenda accused, poking her brother in the chest.

  Aware that the notrights were having a field day watching the drama, Queenie nodded for Vinny to go inside then roughly grabbed Brenda’s arm and marched her in after him. Much as she loved her only daughter, compared to her sons, Brenda had always been a big disappointment to her. Once she shut the door, Queenie let rip. ‘Don’t you dare blame your brother for Dean disappearing into thin air. Don’t get me wrong, if I ever lay eyes on Dean again, I would knife him myself for the way he left you in the lurch and abandoned his children. But you led that man a dog’s life, Bren, with your drinking and your insecurities.’

  When Brenda collapsed on the floor sobbing uncontrollably, Vinny knelt down and hugged his little sister to his chest. ‘That’s enough now, Mum. Soon as Bren’s packed up, I’ll take her and the kids back to London with me.’

  The minute she laid eyes on Johnny, Deborah Preston knew that he was itching to tell her something important. She had sensed the excitement in his voice when she had spoken to him on the phone last night.

  ‘You’ve got some news for me, haven’t you, love?’

  Johnny grinned broadly. ‘You know I told you my parole hearing had been put back a fortnight?’

  Deborah nodded.

  ‘Well, it hadn’t. It was yesterday, but I didn’t want you worrying and I wanted to surprise you.’

  Deborah felt her stomach tie itself in knots. ‘Well? What did they say?’

  Unable to hide his elation, Johnny leapt out of his seat and did a little celebratory jig. ‘I’m finally coming home, babe, and I can’t fucking wait.’

  Joanna Preston stared at her new image in the mirror and was horrified at what she saw. Her once beautiful blonde hair was now a very dark brown and it did not suit her one bit.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ the hairdresser asked.

  Biting fiercely on her lip to stop herself from crying, Joanna nodded her head. She felt and looked like a different person. It was as though her whole identity had been stolen.

  Joanna paid the bill, then without even waiting for her change, stumbled out of the salon. Seconds later, the tears came.

  Scott Mason drove back towards London with a face like thunder and the headache from hell. The hospital had wanted to keep him in for observation for another twenty-four hours, so he had made the decision to discharge himself.

  ‘I can’t believe how bad your eyes and nose look, Scott. How long before you’ll be back to normal?’ Fiona asked. Her usually handsome brother looked terrible.

  Scott had suffered a broken nose in the fracas which had given him two black eyes. ‘I dunno. The doctor said I might have to have my nose reshaped, but I won’t know for sure until the swelling goes down.’

  ‘I think Brenda is going to try and get back with you. Got a feeling she might prove to be a bit of a stalker after the way she was behaving earlier. Don’t get back with her, Scotty, will you? You’ve got enough on your plate with that timeshare malarkey, and you certainly don’t need another run-in with the Butlers.’

  ‘I have no intention of getting back with Bren. I wasn’t even that into her in the first place, if you want the truth.’

  ‘What about Vinny though? I know what you’re like, Scott, and I know you will not rest until you get him back one way or another. Whatever you do, do not involve that lunatic friend of yours from Spain. He’s off his rocker, he is.’

  Scott smirked. Mad Martin was a psycho who would most certainly give Vinny Butler a run for his money if Scott paid him enough dosh to do so. The man had been known to wipe out family relations for less than fifty thousand pesetas.

  ‘What you smiling at, Scott? This isn’t funny. I love you, you know I do, but I am not giving you no more alibis if the police knock on our door – I mean that.’

  Scott squeezed his sister’s hand. Their mum had died when Fiona was just five years old and Scott had looked after her ever since. They were that close they even shared a flat together these days. ‘Stop worrying. I’m not going to do anything, OK? I’m not stupid, Fi.’

  Fiona said nothing. She wanted to believe Scott was not going to seek some sort of revenge against Vinny, but in her heart she knew that he probably would.

  Ahmed was sitting in a West End restaurant with his friends Hakan and Bora Koç. They had rung him yesterday out of the blue saying they were in town on business.

  ‘How is your dear friend Vinny these days, Ahmed? Are you still ripping him off or have you now finished him off?’ Hakan asked. He and Bora had enjoyed playing the role of big-time drug barons to help their friend fleece Vinny of a fortune.

  Without going into too much detail, Ahmed explained that he had Vinny exactly where he wanted him and was hoping that very soon Vinny would be going to prison for a long spell.

  ‘I have to say, Ahmed, and I mean no disrespect, but why fuck about this way? I do not know how you could go on pretending to be Vinny’s friend after the way he betrayed you. I would have killed him, if he’d done that to me,’ Hakan said.

  Ahmed smirked. It seemed none of his friends could understand his desire to play games, putting off the day when he would finish Vinny off. In fact, Ahmed knew without a doubt that the only person who would truly understand would be Vinny himself. Both of them shared the same sadistic nature and thoroughly enjoyed putting their victims through prolonged torture, mentally as well as physically. No wonder they had clicked immediately and been such good pals until Vinny had betrayed him in such a vile way. ‘I will try to explain, but you probably won’t understand. To kill Vinny would have been far too easy and boring for me. I want and need to watch him suffer. Playing mind games makes me happy.’

  ‘My friend Murat, he fuck many men over for money. Somebody recently kill his daughter. He now broken man. Worst punishment is to kill child,’ Bora said.

  ‘How did they kill the child?’ Ahmed asked.

  Bora put his right hand around his throat and squeezed it. ‘They do this.’

  Ahmed could not help but chuckle as he imagined Vinny’s reaction if Molly were to meet her maker in such a violent manner. Vinny was besotted with his daughter, and would never be able to deal with such a crime. That truly would be game over.

  ‘What is funny?’ Hakan asked Ahmed.

  ‘Nothing. I just have a warped sense of humour. Right, let’s order some food, shall we? I am starving.’

  Little Vinny splashed on some of his father’s aftershave, then stared at himself in the mirror. His dad reckoned he was the spitting image of him, but apart from his bright green eyes, Vinny liked to think he looked more like his mum. She had been a pretty lady and he had definitely inherited her small, slightly turned-up nose.

  Putting his black braces over his white Fred Perry shirt, Little Vinny grinned as he attached them to his faded Levi jeans. Now he’d had his head shaved and was wearing his good clobber, he looked and felt like a proper skinhead once again. He’d popped round Ben’s gaff earlier and brought some of
his clothes back home, but he would have to hide them all under his bed once his dad got back from Eastbourne, in case the bastard found them then burned them as he had last time.

  About to lace up his DM’s, Little Vinny froze as he heard the key go in the lock, then the front door slam. ‘You in, boy?’ his dad shouted out.

  ‘Yes, Dad. I’ll be down in a minute.’ Little Vinny was panicking now. He had left his pork-pie hat downstairs, so couldn’t even cover up his shaved head.

  Vinny poured himself a large Scotch and downed it in one. The journey back from Eastbourne had been a nightmare. Brenda had been crying one minute, then screaming at him the next. Tara had had one of her infamous tantrums because she had wanted to stay at the holiday park, and Tommy had puked up all over the back seat of his motor.

  Slamming his glass down on the kitchen top, Vinny marched upstairs to see his son. ‘So, how did your party go? Did you have a good time?’

  Little Vinny stood transfixed to the spot when his bedroom door was flung open. He knew immediately by the twisted expression on his father’s face that he was in deep shit.

  Vinny pulled back his right fist and punched his son so hard in the face, he flew across the room and landed on his bed. He then leaned over him and pointed his forefinger in his face. ‘How dare you disobey me, you cheeky little bastard. I told you under no circumstances were you to ever get your head shaved again, or wear them stupid cunting clothes. Well, you’ve well and truly burned your bridges now, boy, because I ain’t letting you out of my sight in future. You just can’t be trusted, can you?’

  Holding his throbbing jaw in his hand, Little Vinny stuck up for himself. ‘Why can’t you just let me live my own life and make my own decisions, eh? All my mates have got skinheads, their dads don’t go into one. Why do you always have to make me the odd one out?’

  ‘Because you’re my son! I ain’t some two-bob mug like your mates’ dads, am I? I am the Vinny Butler, and if you think you’re going to embarrass me by looking, dressing and acting like some little prick, then you’ve got another think coming.’

  ‘I hate you. You’re a fucking horrible dad, and I hate being your son,’ Little Vinny replied defiantly.

  Vinny grabbed his son by the throat and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘And I don’t like you very much either. Unlike your little sister, you are a total fucking waste of space. Now, get them stupid clothes off and put a suit on. Tonight, you will be working at the club with me.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Over the next week, Little Vinny’s life went from bad to worse. When his father had said he wasn’t going to let him out of his sight, Little Vinny had thought he was just using scaremonger tactics. The bastard hadn’t been, though. Little Vinny wasn’t even allowed to stay indoors on his own of a night. He was made to sit upstairs or work as a potboy at the poxy club.

  The worst part of being held prisoner was that Little Vinny had been unable to contact Shazza. He had been inebriated and stoned when he had written down her contact details and had taken down her phone number wrong. It was a digit short, and smudged because he had written it with Shazza’s lipstick. He could still read the address clearly though and as soon as he got a chance to escape, he was determined to visit her.

  Little Vinny had never been a boy to masturbate much in the past, but since he had met Shazza, he had become accustomed to relieving himself on a daily basis. About to do so again, he quickly moved his hand away from his private parts as his dad barged into his bedroom.

  ‘Ain’t you fucking dressed yet?’

  ‘I’m getting dressed now.’

  ‘Well, pack some clobber in a sports bag as well,’ Vinny ordered.

  ‘Why? Where you sending me?’ Little Vinny asked alarmed.

  ‘A children’s home.’

  ‘What?’

  Vinny chuckled at the look of horror on his son’s face. ‘We’re going to Kings for the weekend.’

  ‘I don’t wanna go to Kings, Dad. Can’t I stay here? I’ll be really good and I’ll work at the club all weekend, I promise.’

  ‘Your promises aren’t worth a wank, boy. Just pack your bags and do as you’re told for once.’

  Desperate for some breathing space away from his father and to see Shazza again, Little Vinny argued his point. ‘Why have I got to go to Kings? I don’t like it there no more and I ain’t got no mates now in Eastbourne.’

  Vinny glared at his son. ‘I could not give a shit what you like and what you don’t. You can’t be trusted to stay here. As for you having no mates in Eastbourne, you ain’t got none in London apart from that doughnut Ben Bloggs. You’re coming to Kings with me and that’s final, understand?’

  About to fly into a rage, Little Vinny had a better idea. He’d had enough of existing rather than living, so forced a smile. ‘I understand. I’ll pack my stuff now, Dad.’

  When his father shut the bedroom door, Little Vinny stuck his middle right-hand finger up. ‘Fucking prick! Swivel on that you cunt if you think I am coming to Eastbourne with you.’

  Little Vinny grinned as he packed his bag. If running away from home was the only way he was going to see Shazza again, then run away he would.

  Nancy was giving the bungalow a thorough tidy-up in preparation for Michael and his father’s arrival when Joanna poked her head around the door. ‘I need some advice. Have you got five minutes?’

  Turning off the vacuum cleaner, Nancy checked on the boys who were outside playing football, then made a brew. ‘So, what’s up? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.’

  ‘Nance, if I tell you something, you promise you won’t tell anybody?’

  ‘Of course not. You know me better than that.’

  ‘You know I told you I was bored with being blonde which is why I had my hair dyed?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, I lied. Vinny drove me to the hairdressers and forced me to have it done. I wanted to tell you, but I felt so stupid that I allowed him to dictate to me like that. I used to be such a strong-willed person, Nance, and I don’t like what I’ve turned into.’

  When her pal began to cry, Nancy held her in her arms. She hated Vinny, but never slagged him off to Joanna. However, she was appalled by Vinny bullying Jo into changing the colour of her hair. ‘You need to start sticking up for yourself, Jo, because if you don’t, Vinny will lose all respect for you. I know me and Michael have had our ups and downs, but no way would I ever allow him to choose what colour my hair would be. That’s really taking the piss.’

  ‘He made me change it because of that Billy. He said being blonde made me look like a slag and that’s why I was attracting dickheads.’

  Nancy was disgusted. ‘Bloody cheek! I’m blonde, so does that make me a slag too? Tell him you don’t like it and you’re changing it back.’

  ‘It’s not just my hair, it’s other stuff too. I spoke to my mum yesterday for the first time in ages. My dad got granted parole and is due to be released any day now. Vinny’s forbidden me to have any contact with him whatsoever, but I’m desperate to see him, Nance. How can I not see my own dad? I love him.’

  ‘Jo, you cannot go on like this. You must put your foot down and do what you want to do. Even though my dad has always refused to have anything to do with the Butlers, Michael has never stopped me or the boys from seeing him. I wouldn’t put up with it if I were you. You should do what I always do when the going gets tough. Threaten to leave, then carry the threat out if you have to. It works every time. My mum gave me that sound advice. She left my dad a couple of times over the years and he soon begged her to go back. Michael hated it when I left him after I came out of hospital that time. Being alone gives men the kick up the arse they need to realize just how lucky they are to have us.’

  ‘But I don’t think Vinny loves or wants me. We haven’t slept together for Christ knows how long and that makes me feel horrid inside and unattractive. I’m so unhappy, Nance, I really am. Even though I still love Vin, I don’t like him much any
more. I would leave him if it wasn’t for Molly, but I know he would never let me take her with me,’ Joanna admitted.

  ‘Jo, you’re her mother! Vinny would not have a leg to stand on if you left him. If he tried to get custody of Molly, he would be laughed out of court.’

  ‘But you don’t know what he’s like, Nance. I bet he would snatch Molly and disappear abroad with her or something if I left him. He’s not like your Michael. He always has to get his own way.’

  Knowing exactly what Vinny Butler was like, Nancy decided there was no more she could do or say to help her pal, so she changed the subject. ‘Look, today’s my mum’s last day at Kings and I’ve promised to take her and the boys to the pier. Dry them eyes, and you and Molly come with us. A change of scenery will do you good.’

  Vinny Butler was sitting in the armchair when the phone rang. ‘Hello.’

  ‘It’s me. I thought you’d be interested to know that your old pal said his goodbyes earlier. Probably as free as a bird as we speak.’

  Thanking Scottish Pat for the information, Vinny ended the call and poured a large Scotch to calm himself down. Knowing Johnny Preston was up for parole was bad enough, but the news that the bastard was now breathing the same air as him on the outside was another.

  To mellow himself out a bit, Vinny put on a Roxy Music album. Bryan Ferry’s voice always soothed him, and as he sang along to ‘Dance Away’ he stared at the photo of himself, Roy and his mother that occupied pride of place on his lounge wall. It had been taken outside the club on their opening night. He had been nineteen at the time, Roy seventeen and their mother had been so thrilled by what they had achieved.

  While Preston had been inside, Vinny had satisfied his lust for revenge by making Joanna fall in love with him, then getting her pregnant. He’d got off on imagining how it must have tortured Preston to be locked up in his cell, knowing that his worst enemy had his big hard cock shoved up his baby girl.