скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Use your loaf, Dave. If we wanna move in the right circles we can’t be involving little ’uns, especially simple ones. It ain’t the done thing, mate.’
‘What we gonna do now then?’ Dave asked.
Johnny released the handbrake and put his foot on the accelerator. ‘Call it a day and come back tomorrow. Don’t worry, Davey Boy. Vinny Butler will get his comeuppance in the not-too-distant future. Nobody threatens my sister and gets away with it and I mean that with all my fucking heart.’
Albie Butler felt almost suicidal. Not only did he have two broken legs and three broken ribs, he was now homeless, and had a wife and a pregnant ex-girlfriend who both hated him with a passion.
‘Hitler in a German tank, parlez vous. Hitler in a German tank, parlez vous. Hitler in a German tank, reading the Beano and having a wank. Inky pinky parlez vous,’ sang old Mr Perry in the next bed.
Albie put his bruised head in his hands. Old Mr Perry had done nothing but sing war songs all day and if his legs hadn’t been in traction, Albie would have leapt out of the bed and throttled him by his scrawny neck.
‘Dad.’
Albie looked up and was thrilled to see Roy and Michael standing there. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you, boys. That old goat in the next bed has been doing my bleedin’ head in all day. You ain’t bought your old dad a bottle of brandy by any chance?’ Albie said, directing the question towards his youngest son. Unlike that sadistic bastard Vinny, Michael was a good kid and had visited him every day with an alcoholic gift. They say you shouldn’t have a favourite son, but Michael had always been Albie’s. They had a special bond between them, which Albie had never experienced with Roy or Vinny.
For the first time in his life, Michael looked at his father with hatred in his eyes. Learning his dad had betrayed his mum in such an awful manner had been like having a light switched on in his brain, and he now saw his father just as his brothers did. ‘All we’ve bought you is your clothes from Mum’s house. They’re in two binliners and we gave them to the nurse. I never thought I would hear myself say this, but you are fucking scum, Dad, and I no longer consider myself to be your son.’
‘Yee-haw,’ old Mr Perry shouted with glee.
Roy looked at his brother in astonishment. Michael had always been the soft-as-shit pleasant one out of the three of them, yet within two days of working with him and Vinny, he seemed to have grown bollocks and turned from a boy into a man.
‘And don’t you ever contact us or our mum again,’ Roy threatened, waving a finger in the direction of his father’s shocked face.
‘Don’t go, boys. Please don’t go,’ Albie begged, near to tears.
When Roy and Michael ignored their father’s plea and stomped out of the ward, old Mr Perry broke into song again. Vera Lynn’s ‘We’ll Meet Again’ was one of his all-time favourites.
Over at the café, Mary and Shirley were singing along to Sonny and Cher’s ‘I Got You Babe’ as they buttered a loaf of bread between them. ‘Christ, I totally forgot to ask you how the kids got on at school. No more tears from Nancy, I hope?’ Shirley asked.
Mary chuckled. ‘Nope, no more tears. Both of them absolutely loved their new schools and they’ve made friends already. Nancy has met a mate called Brenda and Christopher has palled up with a lad called Tommy.’
‘Ah, bless ’em. I wonder if Nancy’s mate is my friend Queenie’s daughter. Her name is Brenda and she’s about the same age as your Nancy.’
Realizing that Shirley was referring to the Butler family, Mary stopped buttering her bread and turned to her employee. ‘I’ll have to ask Nancy what her friend’s surname is. What are they like, that Butler family? Queenie and her sister have been in here a couple of times and they seem nice enough. One of the sons came in as well. My Donald wasn’t happy because he gave our Christopher some money. Donald doesn’t like the children taking money off strangers, so he made Christopher give it back to him.’
‘Queenie and Vivian are diamonds, Mary. Both got lovely houses that are spotlessly clean and their doorsteps are gleaming. Young Brenda’s a good kid and so are the three boys. You don’t mess with them though, if you know what I mean? Especially the eldest lad, Vinny. He has a bit of a reputation around here for being more than a handful, but he’s different again with his mum. Worships the ground Queenie walks on, that boy does.’
A customer who wanted serving ended the conversation and as Mary wrote down the order, she said a silent prayer for Nancy’s new friend not to be Brenda Butler. If she was and Donald found out, all hell was sure to break loose.
Under strict instructions from their father, Nancy and Christopher arrived home with their two new friends in tow.
‘This is Brenda,’ Nancy announced.
‘And this is Tommy,’ Christopher said, proudly.
The café was virtually empty and seeing as he and Mary now closed at four, Donald ordered the children to sit down at a table.
‘I know both your mums are probably cooking for you, but we’ve some chips left over in the kitchen. Shall I put them on a plate so you can all share them? There’s not that many so I doubt it will spoil your dinner,’ Mary said.
‘Yes please, and can I have a can of cola as well?’ Brenda asked cheekily.
Donald took an instant dislike to Brenda. She had been far too brazen asking for a drink for his liking and he didn’t want his Nancy copying that type of behaviour. He had brought her up to have impeccable manners.
‘I really like your café, Sir. Does that play music?’ Tommy asked Donald, pointing at the jukebox.
Donald smiled before answering the boy. Tommy had already won him over by calling him Sir.
‘There you go,’ Mary said, putting a plate of chips and four cans of cola on the table. She knew why Donald had insisted on meeting their children’s friends. He was a very particular man and was bound to interrogate them to ensure they came from decent families.
‘So, what does your dad do? Does he have a job?’ Donald asked Tommy.
‘Yeah, my dad grafts really hard, Sir. He works down the docks.’
‘And what about your mother? Does she work too?’
‘No, Sir. I have two younger brothers, so my mum stays at home to look after them.’
Mary was a bundle of nerves as Donald turned to Brenda. ‘And what about you, Brenda? Does your dad go to work?’
‘My dad don’t live with us any more. My mum has chucked him out. He was always drunk, but my mum didn’t chuck him out because of that. He got another woman pregnant. I’m not meant to know that, but I heard my mum and aunt talking about it in the kitchen last night.’
Absolutely appalled, Donald glanced at his wife.
Mary couldn’t look at her husband. ‘Oh well, I suppose you’d better hurry up and eat those chips in case your mums are wondering where you are. Me and Donald don’t want to get ourselves into trouble for you two being late home,’ Mary said, adding a false chuckle.
‘I told my mum I was coming here,’ Tommy said.
‘Yeah, so did I,’ Brenda added.
‘So, do you have brothers and sisters, Brenda?’ Donald asked.
‘Yeah, I got three brothers, Vinny, Roy and Michael. Lenny is like a brother as well but he is really my cousin.’
Recognizing the name Vinny, Donald felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. ‘And do your brothers work? Or are they still at school?’ Donald pried.
‘They have got their own business. They own the snooker club just around the corner. Michael used to be a mechanic but Vinny made him give his job up. Everybody knows my brothers. My mum reckons they’re more famous than the Kray twins,’ Brenda explained proudly.
Having already heard enough, Donald stood up and gestured for his wife to follow him into the kitchen. ‘Did you know that our daughter’s friend was part of that family of scoundrels?’ he asked Mary accusingly.
‘No, of course I didn’t. I’m not a bloody mind-reader, Donald.’
‘Well, I’m afraid the friendship will have to end. I will not have my Nancy involved with such people. You shall tell her tonight that she isn’t to be friends with Brenda any more. Our Nancy will soon make other friends,’ Donald stated.
‘I can’t stop them from being friends, Donald. They sit next to one another at bloody school. I really do think you are overreacting a bit. Brenda might be a little rough around the edges, but she seems a nice-enough child. Not all children have been lucky enough to have the upbringing that ours have.’
‘I am not overreacting, Mary. I obviously just care about my children’s welfare a tad more than you do. Tomorrow, I want you to pay a visit to Nancy’s headmaster and demand that she be moved into a different class.’
‘I will do no such thing,’ Mary said, her eyes blazing with anger.
‘Well, if you won’t, then I will,’ Donald argued.
Mary was absolutely raging now. ‘Are you determined to balls things up for us here, Donald? Our new business is a roaring success already. Our children are content and have new friends, yet you still can’t be happy. For your information, Shirley was telling me about the Butler family only today. She said Brenda’s mum is a lovely lady with a spotlessly clean house. She also spoke highly of the three boys. Obviously, as we already know, Shirley did say that they are a family not to be messed with, which is why you will not stop our Nancy from being friends with Brenda. For some reason, you seem intent on bringing trouble to our door and if you carry on doing so, and ruin our wonderful business that we have worked so hard for, I swear I will divorce you. Now, get off your high horse and leave me to decide what is and isn’t best for our children, OK?’
Totally gobsmacked by the way his wife had just spoken to him, Donald decided that he was out of his depth with this particular argument. ‘OK, we will do things your way, Mary. But, if that despicable family ever bring trouble to us or our children’s lives, it will be me who files for divorce.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Queenie spent the morning of her birthday putting up her Christmas tree and decorations. Vinnie had organised a small party for her at the club later, which had been Lenny’s idea.
‘What you doing now, Mum?’ Brenda asked, when her mother climbed up the stepladder.
‘Putting these paper chains across the ceiling to make it look a bit more festive.’
‘Mum, you know your birthday party?’
Securing the paper chain with two drawing pins, Queenie stepped down from the ladder. ‘Yes.’
‘Would it be OK if I invited my friend Nancy?’ Brenda asked hopefully.
Queenie smiled. ‘Of course you can, angel. You’d best invite her little brother as well though. You can’t invite one without the other.’
Over at the club, Vinny had been up since dawn getting things ready for his mum’s birthday party. ‘About fucking time you showed your face and I hope you’ve got rid of that slag,’ Vinny said as his brother appeared looking dishevelled.
Roy sighed. He didn’t often allow birds to stay upstairs in his bed. Once or twice a month, top whack. Yet every time he did so, Vinny would always have something to say about it. Deciding to stand up to his brother for once, Roy glared at him. ‘The slag as you so politely called her went home a couple of hours ago. What is your problem, Vin? I’m a single eighteen-year-old fella, so why is it a crime for me to get me nuts in here and there?’
‘No-one said it was a crime, Roy, but you knew how important it was to me that we made Mum’s birthday special this year. After all the shit she has been through recently, don’t you think she deserves to be treated like the Queen?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Grab hold of the end of that banner. I want to put it on the wall facing the door,’ Vinny said.
‘Where’s Michael?’ Roy asked.
‘You tell me. Went to some silly Mod party after we let him leave early last night. He’s probably still under the covers with some slag as well.’
‘What time is Mum’s present arriving?’ Roy was desperate to change the subject.
‘Twelve on the dot and we need to be there to see her face when she sees it, which is why I needed you to get your arse out of bed early today.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. But please, can we just forget about this now, Vin? We don’t wanna spoil Mum’s party, do we?’
‘Yep, let’s forget about it, but in future, Roy, business and family before pleasure, eh?’
Roy nodded. ‘Of course.’
Johnny Preston was not a happy chappie. Vinny Butler ran the firm, the other brothers were nobodies compared to him, everybody knew that, yet catching Vinny on his own was proving to be a difficult task.
‘Can’t we just confront Vinny and Roy? We can take the pair of them on,’ Dave Phillips suggested.
‘Nope. I only deal with the organ grinder. No point involving the monkey. We’ll get him on his own, Dave. Patience is a virtue,’ Johnny replied as he drove past the club. ‘I wonder what’s going on in there? There’s a bird turned up with balloons now. Perhaps it’s his mummy’s birthday and the incestuous freak is throwing her a party.’
‘He reminds me of that geezer in the film Psycho, but I can’t remember his name,’ Dave added.
Johnny burst out laughing. ‘Great call, me ole cocker. Vinny Butler, the East End’s answer to Norman Bates.’
Mary was busy wiping down the tables when young Brenda wandered into the café. ‘Hello, love. Nancy’s upstairs with Christopher. Pop up and see her if you like.’
When Brenda ran up the stairs, Mary went into the kitchen to remind her husband of the conversation they’d had the other day.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t say anything rude to the awful child,’ Donald said cuttingly.
‘Mum, Dad.’ Nancy ran into the kitchen with Christopher and Brenda by her side.
Noticing that her daughter’s eyes were shining with excitement, Mary smiled. ‘What is it? Do you want to go out to play?’
‘No. I’ve been invited to a party and so has Christopher. It’s Brenda’s mum’s birthday.’
Donald frowned. If it was Queenie Butler’s birthday party then her sons were bound to attend and there was no way his daughter and son were mixing with that motley crew. ‘You and Christopher are far too young to be attending adult parties, Nancy. I’m sorry, but I will not allow you to go.’
‘Oh, please, Dad,’ Nancy begged, her lip trembling. She wanted to cry but didn’t want to make a show of herself in front of Brenda.
Mary glared at her husband and then turned back to her distraught daughter. ‘Where is the party, love? And what time is it? You’re too young to be out late at night.’
‘It’s not at night, Mrs Walker. It’s being held this afternoon in my brother’s snooker club. My brother says it has to end by teatime because he has to open the club to his punters of an evening,’ Brenda explained.
Donald sneered at Brenda’s use of the word punters. She sounded like a docker or a navvy. Her speech was so unfeminine for a little girl.
‘I think it’s OK for Nancy and Christopher to go to the party, Donald, as long as they are back here by six, don’t you? The snooker club is only around the corner, isn’t it?’ Mary said, giving her husband the evil eye.
‘Yesss! I love parties,’ Christopher shouted, clapping his hands with sheer delight.
Nancy was thrilled by her mum’s remarks and both girls jumped up and down with glee.
With a face like a smacked arse, Donald glanced at his wife, then his children. ‘Do whatever you bloody well like,’ he spat.
Queenie and Vivian glanced at one another in amazement as the two delivery men brought a big wooden object inside.
‘Aw, Queenie, ain’t it grand? It’s one of them posh radiograms,’ Vivian whispered in her sister’s ear.
‘But we ain’t got no records to play on it,’ Queenie whispered back. Her only access to music was the radio she had in the kitchen.
After thanking the delivery men, Roy walked into the lounge with a cardboard box. ‘Put one on, Vin,’ he ordered his brother.
When the tones of Mrs Mills blasted out of the speakers, Queenie and Vivian looked at one another in delight.
‘Oh, ain’t it wonderful,’ Vivian said, grinning at her sister.
‘Bloody amazing,’ Queenie replied. No longer did she have to put up with Albie and scrub his skid-marked pants until her hands bled so that when she put them on the washing line the neighbours wouldn’t think they were a dirty family. Instead, she had a fabulous radiogram with Mrs Mills’ LPs to entertain her and Vivian on these cold winter nights. Queenie stood up, put one arm around Vinny’s neck and the other around Roy’s. ‘Thank you so much, boys. Not just for the radiogram, I mean for everything.’
