Payback (4 page)
On the morning of her son and nephew’s funerals, Queenie was woken up by the sound of torrential rain pounding against her window. ‘Poxy bastard weather,’ she mumbled as she pulled back the curtain. Funerals were miserable enough occasions at the best of times, but there was nothing worse than standing at a graveside in the rain.
Queenie Butler marched into her daughter’s bedroom and yanked the blankets from over her head. It was nine days since Brenda’s husband had left her. Dean had gone out for a newspaper one morning and had not come back. It had since come to light that he had cleaned out his bank account that very day. Unable to face life as a one-parent family, Brenda had moved into Queenie’s with her four-year-old daughter Tara. Both were high maintenance and loved a tantrum, and Queenie just wished they would sod off home.
‘Out of that pit and get yourself ready – and don’t forget to wear your cross,’ Queenie ordered. She and Vivian loved their gold, and always wore their big gold crosses supported by thick belcher chains for funerals, weddings and christenings in hope of impressing the vicar.
‘I don’t feel well, Mum. I feel sick again. Can’t I stay here and look after Tara?’
Brenda had only had her pregnancy confirmed by the doctor the previous day. Dean had really left her in the lurch and if Queenie ever got her hands on her son-in-law, she would wring his scrawny neck.
‘Don’t give me all that old flannel. You get your arse out that bed now, and make yourself look tidy. Not attend your own brother and cousin’s funerals? Never heard such cobblers in my life. Selfish little mare you are, Brenda. Well, today isn’t about you, it’s about Roy and Lenny, and if you don’t do me proud, I shall disown you.’
About to run a bath, Queenie heard a noise outside and looked out of the window again. ‘What the bleedin’ hell’s she doing now?’ she muttered. Vivian was dragging what looked like Lenny’s bedside cabinet up the garden path, and making quite a racket as she did so.
Putting on her shoes and coat, Queenie ran downstairs and out the front door. ‘Whatever are you doing? It’s not even six o’clock yet. You’ll wake the neighbours up, and you’ll catch pneumonia in this weather.’
‘I’m putting Lenny’s stuff out for the dustmen. Not going to be needing it any more, is he?’
Queenie stared at her sister. When they had first learned about Lenny’s death, Vivian had cried and wailed like an injured animal, but since then she had shown hardly any emotion. She had barely mentioned the funeral and Queenie found it very odd that she wanted to chuck all the poor little sod’s belongings away. There was no way she could part with anything of her Roy’s. ‘Viv, there’ll be flowers arriving soon. Leave sorting out Lenny’s belongings until after the funeral. If you still want to get rid of them, I’ll get one of the boys to take the stuff to the dump for you.’
‘I wish you’d stop telling me what to fucking do, Queen,’ Vivian spat, dumping two cardboard boxes full of toys next to her sister’s feet.
Queenie looked down and immediately felt a lump in her throat. Zippy the monkey had been Lenny’s favourite toy. He had carried it everywhere with him as a kid, and had always slept with it in his bed until the day he died. Queenie picked the toy up. No way was she going to allow her sister to throw that away. It should be buried with Lenny.
Michael was shocked to receive an early morning phone call from his wife. It was the first time they had spoken since Nancy had been taken into hospital. She had wandered out one evening in her nightdress and slippers and had been found by a man in an alleyway the following morning. The doctors had suggested that Nancy’s odd behaviour could be down to post-natal depression, but seeing as Adam was now two, Michael found that hard to understand.
‘Nance, I’ve really missed you, babe. The boys had a great time yesterday and were full of it when they came home. They didn’t stop talking about their granddad, so I take it it all went well?’
‘Yes, it went very well. My dad adored them, and I’m ever so pleased. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. How are you? I was so sorry to hear about your brother and Lenny. When are their funerals?’
‘Today. Will you come with me, Nance? My mum and aunt are both in a dreadful way and I could really do with your support.’
Nancy sighed. She had only just started to feel like her old self again, and didn’t fancy spending time with Michael’s family yet. Vinny had a way of making her feel anxious, and Brenda would be bound to kick off with her over Dean going away. ‘I’m sorry, Michael, but I don’t feel up to attending funerals. I will look after the boys for you though. Mum said you were taking them with you and I’d rather you didn’t. They’re far too young to be surrounded by death.’
Michael was cross. He had cared for his sons almost single-handed these past couple of months. It also hurt him that Nancy had only called because she had wanted to have Daniel and Adam for the day. Did she not love him any more? Was their marriage over? Well, there was only one way to find out. An ultimatum should do the trick. ‘Nance, I cannot believe what you just said. “I will look after the boys for you” – have you forgotten you’re their mother? Look, I know you’ve been ill and I sympathize with that, but now you’re feeling better, you need to have a think about us. I’ll give you a week to get your arse back home, and if you don’t, I shall start divorce proceedings. Our sons are unsettled enough as it is at the moment and I won’t allow you to keep fucking them about. They miss you, I miss you, and you should be back at home where you belong. You can’t hide behind your parents for ever. As for the funeral, the boys are coming with me, end of. It’s not fair on Lee if they don’t.’
‘I’m sorry I’ve been a bad mum and wife, but I have been really ill,’ Nancy replied, her voice full of emotion.
‘No, you haven’t been ill, Nance, you’ve been depressed. Two different things, so my mum reckons. Don’t you think I get depressed too? My cousin has just been beheaded in a car crash, Roy has blown his brains out, and I’m currently trying to run a business and bring up three kids on my own. Do you wanna swap fucking places? Listen, I’ve got to go now. I need to get round my mum’s and the boys haven’t had any breakfast yet. I meant what I said though, Nance. You’ve got a week to make up your mind, or we’re finished.’
Joanna Preston held Vinny’s arm as they strode towards Queenie’s house. It had been her boyfriend’s idea that she ring her mum this morning. He had said that her eighteenth birthday was as good a time as any to try and patch things up. He’d also insisted she tell her mum that she was pregnant.
‘You OK? Shame your mum went off on one, but she will come round in time you know,’ Vinny said. He had been dying for Johnny Preston to find out that he had got his daughter up the spout. Deborah was bound to tell him the news, and Vinny only wished he could be there to see the look on the bastard’s face.
‘Are all these people here for the funeral, Vinny?’ Joanna asked, as they turned the corner. There was a crowd of about a hundred or so.
‘Yeah, must be. Bit early they are, though. I hope they haven’t knocked on my mum’s door. I told them to leave her be,’ Vinny replied. His mother had insisted that, apart from family, she wanted nobody inside the house.
The flowers spread across his mum and aunt’s front gardens brought a lump to Vinny’s throat. The wreath he had chosen, with ‘Champ’ spelled out, was that big it literally shone out like a beacon.
Little Vinny was ten years old and with his black hair and piercing green eyes it was like looking at his father at the same age. Unfortunately for Queenie, her grandson had picked up many of Vinny’s traits. He was obstinate, had a temper on him, and once he got a bee in his bonnet, there was very little reasoning with the child.
‘I’ll say this once more, Vinny. Get upstairs and put your suit on before I brain ya. I really don’t need you performing today, boy. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.’
When Little Vinny didn’t move out of the armchair, Queenie was moving in to give him a good clout round the earhole when she heard the front door open and close. ‘About bloody time too. I’ve had all them nosy bastards out there knocking on the door, and now your son reckons he isn’t coming to the funeral,’ Queenie told Vinny.
Ordering Joanna to keep his mum company in the kitchen, Vinny walked into the lounge and shut the door. ‘What’s the matter, boy?’
‘Don’t like funerals. They remind me of my mum dying.’
Vinny crouched next to his son. Little Vinny had barely known his mother. Karen had been a stripper at the club when she’d fallen pregnant by Vinny. He’d paid her off and brought his son up with the help of his mum. When Little Vinny was five, Karen had turned up on his doorstep like a bad penny. He’d had her done away with, ordering that her murder be made to look like a heroin overdose. ‘Look, boy, I know you aren’t happy about me being with Joanna and her being pregnant, but I bet once your brother or sister is born, you’ll be in your element.’
‘No, I won’t. I hate babies,’ Little Vinny replied, his lip protruding sulkily.
‘But it won’t stay a baby for long. It will soon be old enough for you to talk to and take out. I remember sulking when your nan fell pregnant with Roy. I wanted to be the only kid. When Roy was born, I soon grew to love him – and you’ll be the same when Jo’s baby is born. You’re my first-born, Vinny, and you’re always going to be more special to me than any other kid.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. I’ve always been closer to Nanny than Roy, Michael or Brenda were, and that’s because I was her first-born. Number one son you are, boy. Very special that is.’
When Little Vinny grinned, Vinny ruffled his hair. ‘Now, go and put your suit on.’
Vivian Harris took one last look inside Lenny’s old bedroom and shut the door. It looked bare and cold now, just like her heart felt. The dustmen must have taken away his stuff because she’d looked out of the window an hour ago and it was gone. A mass of flowers had replaced her son’s belongings.
Hearing voices outside, Vivian peeked through the curtain again. ‘Nosy fucking bastards. Go away and leave me alone,’ she muttered. She had only ever been interested in her family. In her eyes, nobody else mattered.
Aware that somebody was staring up at her, Viv jumped away from the curtain. She poured herself another brandy and lay down on her bed. As soon as her pest of a sister left for the funeral, she planned to fall asleep and never wake up. Lenny needed her, he always had, and she was determined to be there in heaven for him. That’s if the bastard place existed, of course.
When Michael arrived, Queenie Butler battled her way through the well-wishing mourners to get to her sister’s house. Vivian had insisted on being left alone earlier and had promised she would knock at Queenie’s as soon as the coffins arrived. She hadn’t. Queenie put her key in the door, but the chain was on. ‘Viv, it’s me. Let me in.’
When she still received no reply, Queenie started to get angry. ‘Vivvy, open this bastard door now,’ she yelled.
Aware of Nosy Hilda and Mouthy Maureen staring at her, Queenie pushed past the gawping mourners and marched back to her own house. ‘Vinny, you’re going to have to do something. Viv’s locked herself in and she won’t answer the door. It’s all your fault for fitting that poxy chain lock, so best you sort it. What with your sister and son, I’ve had enough drama for one day.’
Vinny snatched the key off his mum, then darted next door. ‘Auntie Viv, come and take this lock off please. We have to leave soon, the cars are here.’
After five minutes of begging his aunt to answer the door and receiving no reply, Vinny took a couple of steps back and booted the door open. He looked in the lounge first, then ran up the stairs.
‘Go away and leave me alone,’ Vivian screamed when her bedroom door flew open.
‘What you doing, still in bed? We have to leave in a minute. Why aren’t you dressed?’ Vinny asked.
‘Because I ain’t coming. Nothing is going to bring my Lenny back. Why would I want all them nosy cunts out there gawping at me, revelling in my misfortune?’
Clocking the bottle of brandy on Vivian’s bedside cabinet, Vinny sighed. Only his mother could sort this one out and she was going to go apeshit when she found out Viv was sloshed. He ran back to his mum’s, drew her aside and told her, ‘Viv reckons she isn’t coming to the funeral. She’s still in bed and she’s slurring. I think she’s pissed.’
Queenie Butler was out the door like a bat out of hell. Her black hat flew off in a gust of wind as she ran down the path, but she did not stop to retrieve it. First Brenda playing up, then her grandson and now Vivvy. Did the selfish bastards not realize that she was grieving too?
‘Is everything all right, Queenie?’ asked Nosy Hilda.
‘Mind your own fucking business for once,’ Queenie snapped, barging past her open-mouthed neighbour. She ran up her sister’s stairs and into the bedroom. ‘You are going to the funeral even if I have to drag you there. Now, get your arse out of bed and get a grip woman.’
‘I can’t face it, Queen. My Lenny knew I loved him, so did Roy. I don’t have to go to no funeral to prove that to anyone.’
Queenie ripped the blankets off her sister just as she had with her daughter earlier. ‘Now, you listen to me, Vivian Harris. Get out of that bed and get yourself dressed. It’s unheard of in our neck of the woods for a woman to miss her own child’s funeral – and may God be my judge, you ain’t gonna be the first. We’re the talk of the town as it is, what with Vinny having to kick your front door in. I will not have our boys’ funerals become a laughing stock, not on your nelly. Now, up you bloody well get.’
Albie Butler could feel his heart beating like a drum as he approached St Leonard’s church. He hadn’t spoken to Vinny since his son had threatened to kill him and he was also on bad terms with Queenie and Viv. Even his daughter and eldest grandson hated his guts.
‘What’s up, Albie?’ Bert asked, when his brother stopped in his tracks.
‘Let’s wait here. Big Stan is standing outside the church and I know he’ll kick off if he sees me. I told him I had cancer that time and he bought me drinks and bunged me money,’ Albie explained, truly regretting his terrible lie. He had only told his family and neighbours he had cancer so he could have contact with his children again. His deceit had backfired though. Vinny had found out and tried to blackmail him, and when Albie refused to get involved in his son’s evil plan to ruin Roy’s engagement, Vinny had outed his lie in front of half of Whitechapel.