‘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 guess 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?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Trouble is, he’s given me a wad of money to spend in Bond Street, and I have no idea how I’m going to explain coming home with no shopping bags. What about Michael?’
‘No bother there. He went out before me this morning. His dad wanted to go back to Ipswich. I think Albie had the hump with him for making up with Vinny.’
Joanna was astounded, but also quite pleased. ‘I didn’t know they’d made up. Vinny never said. When did this happen?’
‘Earlier in the week, apparently. I didn’t know either until Albie told me last night that they’d called a truce. Even Queenie has disowned Vinny now, so that says it all really, doesn’t it?’
‘Has she? Vinny never told me that either.’
With the traffic light red, Nancy put her handbrake on and squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘You have to leave him, Jo. For Molly’s sake if nothing else. He’s no good.’
Joanna snatched her hand away. ‘Vinny is a great dad to Molly, and we’ve got our relationship back on track. We had the most amazing sex the other night and Vinny told me how much he loved me. He’s been so different since what happened to Lenny came out in the open. I know what he did was wrong, but I think keeping it to himself was a massive weight on his mind. He even told me that he’s glad Michael told his mum.’
Knowing if she argued the point it would be like smashing her head against a brick wall, a disappointed Nancy turned the volume of the radio up. George Benson was crooning ‘Give Me the Night’. ‘I love this song, Jo. Let’s forget about our men today, have a singalong and just enjoy ourselves, eh?’
Joanna grinned. ‘That sounds like a great idea.’
Vinny Butler was a big believer that it was a mother’s duty to look after the kids. However, he and Molly were having some quality time alone together. His daughter took after him for loving Marmite and they were currently huddled up on the sofa scoffing Marmite soldiers and watching Sesame Street on the video recorder. ‘Daddy, look at Big Bird,’ Molly shrieked excitedly.
When the phone rang, Vinny leaned across his daughter to answer it. ‘Dad, you need to come to the club quickly. The cellar’s flooded. It’s in a right old mess. I think it’s the washing machine.’
Little Vinny had been good as gold since their father-and-son chat the other morning. The offer of a proper wage seemed to have worked wonders. ‘See if you can get hold of Michael, boy. I’m looking after Molly.’
‘I’ve already tried, Dad, but there was no answer.’
Vinny sighed. ‘OK. I’ll be there in ten.’
Johnny Preston cried as he wrapped his arms around his beautiful daughter.
‘Dad, stop it! You’re embarrassing me,’ Joanna urged, even though she was crying herself.
Johnny chuckled, wiped his eyes with the cuff of his suit, and stood back to look at her properly. He had seen some recent photos of Jo, but nothing beat seeing her in the flesh. ‘Wow, look at you. Can’t believe my baby girl is all grown up. You look like a model.’
Feeling herself blush as every guest was staring their way, Joanna playfully punched her father’s arm. ‘Stop it, Dad. No, I don’t.’
Deborah and Nancy were standing side by side watching the tear-jerker of a reunion. ‘How’s that bastard treating her?’ Deborah whispered in Nancy’s ear.
Joanna had already warned her on the journey not to say anything about Vinny, so rather than betray her friend, Nancy smiled politely. ‘She seems happy enough at the moment, Deborah.’
‘Really? Well, I bet that won’t last long. That bastard is evil, and the quicker my Jo wakes up and smells the coffee, the more sleep I will get at night.’
The boy was lurking in a nearby doorway. He had just seen Vinny Butler pull up in his posh motor and dash inside the club with what he presumed to be his daughter in his arms.
Grinning as he remembered the time he scratched ‘cunt’ down one side of Vinny’s car with a key and ‘wanker’ down the other, the boy took a swig of his cider. He would up his game now he was older and wiser, that was for sure.
The boy took another swig of cider and scowled at the old man who was looking at him. ‘What you staring at, you nosy old fucker? Wanna photo, do ya?’
Mr Arthur tutted, then carried on walking. He wondered what the world was coming to these days. Had he fought in the war and lost so many friends for the likes of that surly teenager?
The boy plastered on a grin as the old man glanced back at him, but the moment the old git looked away his shoulders slumped and he put his head in his hands. It was painful, coming back to this place after everything that had happened. Just the sight of the club brought back Mark’s cries of agony as he was being burnt to a cinder that night of the fire. And it hadn’t even been Mark’s idea to set light to Vinny’s gaff, it had been his.
The boy looked up to the sky. ‘I will get revenge for you, Mark. Hand on heart, I fucking promise you that.’
Relieved that her sister had not gone off her rocker again, Queenie was stood next to Vivian in the local TV rental shop. Most of their neighbours rented their televisions, and Vivian had decided sh
e wanted to rent a new video recorder.
‘This is our latest model and it is very popular,’ said the salesman.
Vivian turned to her sister with a look of contempt on her face. ‘What’d he say?’
Queenie wanted to laugh, but somehow managed to stop herself. The poor sales assistant not only had a strange face but a bad speech impediment to go with it. ‘He said it’s their latest model, Viv.’
‘Oh right. Can you come and fix it up to my TV?’ Vivian asked the man.
‘Yes, of course. When would you like me to install it?’
When Vivian turned to her for the second time to ask what the poor man had said, Queenie put her hand over her sister’s mouth and dragged her out of the shop.
After half an hour of trying to mop up the worst of the water, a disgruntled Vinny walked back into the club area. Edna his cleaner did any washing that needed doing at the club and this was the second time that poxy machine had caused a flood in the past year. Tomorrow, he would buy a new one and get a decent plumber to fit it this time. ‘Vin, Molly, where are you?’
Spotting his son lying flat on his back on one of his leather sofas, Vinny ran towards him and shook him violently. ‘Where’s Molly?’
Little Vinny rubbed his eyes and sat up. ‘She’s ’ere somewhere, Dad. Sorry, I must have dozed off.’
Feeling the panic rising, Vinny yelled his daughter’s name repeatedly, then told his son to look in the club while he searched upstairs. ‘Molly, where are you?’ he shrieked, as he took the stairs two by two.
Searching everywhere he could think of and finding no sign of Molly, Vinny ran down the stairs. ‘You found her, Vin?’ he shouted.
Little Vinny looked ashen-faced. ‘No, Dad. I can’t see her anywhere. I’m so sorry for falling asleep, but I was knackered. Molly was playing with her doll next to me before I dozed off.’
With a gut-wrenching ache like the one he’d experienced the night Lenny died, Vinny ran towards the entrance of the club. The door that he was positive he’d closed as he rushed in earlier was now wide open. Vinny felt as though his heart was about to pack up as he ran into the street. His daughter was the most important person in his life. She was his little angel whose smile lit up the dullest of days. ‘Molly, Molly, Molly!’ he screamed.
Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection Page 75