The Trap (20 page)

Vinny shook his head in mock disbelief. ‘You’re a sucker for punishment, Michael, you always was when it came to Dad. Changing the subject, who is this new bird of yours? It had better not be the tart whose parents used to run that café. You haven’t disobeyed my orders, have you, Michael?’ Vinny asked, his voice full of accusation and anger.

Michael wanted to blurt out the truth, but he had sworn to Nancy only yesterday to keep their relationship a secret for the time being and he couldn’t break his promise to her. ‘No, of course not. My new girlfriend comes from Hainault and her name is Lydia,’ he lied.

‘Right, what I suggest we do is the three of us go and speak to Mum together. However she reacts, without us influencing her in any way, shape, or form is what we end up doing, OK?’ Vinny said. He then turned back to Michael. ‘As for you, if I find out you are lying to me, and this Lydia bird is just a figment of your imagination, there’ll be trouble, Michael, and I mean that with all my heart.’

Mary Walker hugged her son and wished him a lovely time. Christopher had just been promoted in his scout group and now proudly wore a stripe on his shirt. Today, he was off on a camping trip.

Donald put an arm around Mary’s shoulders as they both waved to Christopher. ‘What a fine child we have created there, my love. A pillar of society is Christopher. What a shame our Nancy doesn’t have the same values.’

‘Oh, don’t keep picking on Nancy, Donald. She might be a little more headstrong than Christopher, but so are most girls of her age. She is just finding her feet in life, that’s all,’ Mary insisted.

‘And do most girls of Nancy’s age tell blatant lies to their parents? You know as well as I do, Mary, that our daughter has some boyfriend on the go. So, why the big secrecy about him? He must either be a lot older than her, or he is some hellraiser from a damn awful family.’

Mary turned to face her husband. Donald did have a tendency to let his mind run away with him at times. ‘Look, I am sure Nancy will tell us about him when she is good and ready. I bet the reason she is too frightened to say anything is because of your awkward match-making skills with that bloody Roger.’

‘What do you mean by bloody Roger? He is a fine young man, as well you know. That lad will make a fantastic husband and father one day.’

‘Yes, but our Nancy doesn’t seem to think so, does she, Donald? And do you know what? I don’t blame her for standing her ground one little bit. I wouldn’t fancy Roger if I was in Nancy’s shoes either. Have you looked at our daughter lately? She is a stunning young woman with a vibrant personality, so why should she settle for an average-looking, boring lad like Roger?’

Donald tutted, shook his head in despair, then went out the back to do some stock-taking. He didn’t understand a woman’s way of thinking. Never had and never would.

In the heart of Essex, Johnny Preston was in a pub that he didn’t usually frequent, deep in thought. It was over five and a half years now since he had left the hustle and bustle of London for the tranquillity of life in Tiptree and he had hated virtually every second of it.

At first, it had been bearable. His family were safe. Nobody knew who they were from Adam, and that was all that mattered. Then, he’d had a massive fall-out with his sister over a bloke she had met on holiday at Butlins. The argument had turned nasty and Johnny had ended up hospitalizing his sister’s new beau. His mother had been furious, and when his sister had decided to move to Suffolk to be near her new man, his mum had opted to move there as well. Johnny was a man to hold a grudge, and had never spoken to his mother or sister since the day they had left Tiptree. He had bent over backwards to take care of them, and in his eyes they had thrown his kindness back in his face.

Seeing a blonde bird who was standing at the bar smile at him, Johnny gave her figure the once-over then smiled back at her. He still had his good looks and had succumbed to many a one-night stand since moving to Tiptree.

Trying to struggle with temptation, Johnny sank his pint and went to the toilet. It was all his wife’s fault that he couldn’t keep his penis in his pants. Deborah was a good wife, a great mother, but had let herself get so fat that physically she made Johnny feel sick.

‘Hello, handsome. I haven’t seen you in here before,’ the woman said, approaching Johnny as he walked back to his seat.

Johnny grinned, then began a conversation while studying the woman closely. She was certainly no oil painting up close, but she was better than what he had on offer back home. Johnny glanced at his watch. He’d had far too much to drink to head back to London tonight now anyway. The best thing he could do to take his mind off stuff was drown his sorrows, have one last fling, and then tomorrow he could plan his revenge.

Needing some space to clear his jumbled-up thoughts, Vinny told his brothers he had some personal business to attend to, and would meet them at their mum’s house that afternoon. Usually, Vinny would inform his brothers of any foul play he intended to be involved with, but for once he had decided to keep his cards close to his chest. What he had planned for Karen was a bit below the belt even by his standards, and apart from his pal Ahmed, whom Vinny trusted implicitly, the fewer people that knew about it, the better.

Driving along the Whitechapel Road, Vinny spotted his mother walking along laden with carrier bags. He pulled over and opened his driver’s-side window. ‘Mum, jump in. I’m on my way to yours.’

Queenie dumped her bags on Vinny’s back seat, and grinned as she saw some of the passers-by staring at her son’s new car. All her boys now had flashy top-of-the-range motors and that made Queenie extremely proud. ‘I’m glad I’ve caught you alone, Vinny. I need you to do me a couple of big favours.’

‘What?’

‘One, I want you to throw our Roy a surprise engagement family get-together, and secondly I need you to give our Lenny a job at the club. Vivvy’s been worried sick about him recently. She reckons he is picking up bad habits off them kids he mixes with at that school. He needs something to stimulate his mind properly, boy. Been performing something rotten since he found out his father’s been murdered. Keeps cocking his leg up in the air and pissing like a dog, he does.’

Vinny turned right and pulled up outside his old club. ‘Looks a shithole now, don’t it, Mum? I’ve heard it might close down soon. Such a shame. Good little club that was when I owned it. Yeah, I’ll organize something for Roy. Just leave it with me.’

‘And what about Lenny?’

Vinny turned to his mum and smiled. ‘How about I employ Champ as our little handy-man? He can do a bit of everything then. He can collect the bottles and glasses, help with changing the barrels and stocking the bar up. He can even do a bit of DJ-ing if it makes him happy.’

Queenie hugged her son. ‘Oh, that’s brilliant, Vin. Vivvy will be made up. You’re a good boy, you are. Heart of gold, you’ve got.’

‘Talking of which, I’m giving Karen a job behind the bar. She wants to see more of Little Vinny, so I said she can pop round to yours for an hour or so to see him before she starts work. Is that OK? I don’t want her taking him out alone, and I won’t worry so much if you’re there to keep an eye out.’

Queenie’s usually thin lips curled into a frightening snarl. ‘I ain’t happy about that tart coming round my house or being part of Little Vinny’s life. He’s changed since he met her. Right soppy little bastard he’s becoming. We’ll lose him to her if we ain’t careful, boy, you mark my words. If you want my advice, you need to nip it in the bud.’

Vinny couldn’t help but smirk. He would do more than just nip it in the bud.

Brenda was dismayed to walk into her house and find virtually all her family present, bar her mother and eldest brother. She had planned her speech in her mind, but there was no way she was disclosing her big secret in front of them all.

‘What’s up with you? You look like you’ve lost a pound and found a penny,’ Vivian chuckled.

‘Where’s Mum?’ Brenda asked, looking thoroughly miserable. She wasn’t in the mood for jokes, no matter how funny they were.

‘Here she is now. Vinny’s with her as well,’ Roy said, looking out of the window.

The mention of her big brother was enough to make Brenda want to escape the family gathering. ‘I’m gonna go for a lie-down. Tell Mum I’ve still got that bug and I don’t want no dinner,’ she lied, darting up the stairs.

‘Well, this is a nice surprise. All my boys visiting me together without warning,’ Queenie grinned.

‘We need to talk to you about something, Mum. Or, has Vinny already spoken to you about it?’ Roy asked suspiciously.

‘Yes, he has. Now, shall you tell Lenny the good news? Or shall I?’

Michael and Roy looked at one another in bewilderment. What the hell was their mother going on about?

Vinny sat down on the sofa next to his nephew, winking at his brothers, as if to warn them to keep their mouths shut. ‘Me, Roy and Michael have been thinking, Champ. You’re a big boy now and it’s about time you joined the family firm. You will have to leave school obviously, but it will be good for you to work and earn your own money, won’t it?’

‘But, I don’t wanna leave school. I will miss all my friends.’

‘No, you won’t. This is your last year at school anyway. You’ll be working with me, Champ, and I thought your job could involve a bit of DJ-ing. How’s that grab ya?’

Like magic, Lenny’s eyes suddenly shone with excitement. ‘What, I can be the DJ in your club? And can I play whatever music I want?’

‘Well, not every night, but sometimes you can,’ Vinny laughed, ruffling his cousin’s thick mop of dark hair.

When the boy began leaping up and down as though he had just won the football pools, Vivian and Queenie shared a satisfied smile.

Roy and Michael stared at one another while the rest of the family celebrated Lenny’s new job. Neither was happy with Vinny making decisions behind their backs, and both thought that the club was a far too dangerous place for somebody of Lenny’s mentality. Roy was the first to find his voice. ‘Right, can we discuss what we came here to discuss now?’ he asked, glaring at Vinny.

‘Mum, sit down a minute,’ Vinny ordered.

‘What’s the matter?’ Queenie asked, clocking the sudden serious expressions on all three of her boys’ faces.

Knowing what a bastard Vinny could sometimes be, Roy decided to spill the beans himself. ‘It’s Dad, Mum. He came to see me at the club yesterday. He’s ill. In fact, he’s dying I think, and he wants to make things right with all of us before he croaks it.’

‘You don’t have to see him though, Mum. Don’t feel pressurized if you don’t want to,’ Vinny added.

‘Fucking old bastard. Deserves to rot in hell after what he did to you,’ Vivian spat.

About to agree with her sister, Queenie looked at the hopeful expressions on Roy and Michael’s faces. She had no feelings for Albie whatsoever, so whether he was dying or not, seeing him wouldn’t upset her at all.

‘I want to see Uncle Albie. If I don’t he might die like my dad did and then I will never see him again,’ Lenny said.

‘Shut up, you, and eat your fucking sweets,’ Vivian barked.

Queenie looked at Vinny. They had a sixth sense between them and she could tell by his eyes he was urging her to say no. ‘Look, boys, this has been a bit of a bombshell dropped on me, so can I sleep on it and decide tomorrow?’

‘’Course you can, Mum,’ Vinny replied.

Queenie stood up. ‘Right, I dunno about yous lot, but I’m bleedin’ starving. Now, who wants some liver and bacon?’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

After a sleepless night in which she must have finally dozed off for an hour or two, Brenda woke up feeling nauseous then dashed to the toilet to be violently sick. When she opened the bathroom door planning to crawl back to bed, she was confronted with her mum leaning against the wall outside, her face like thunder.

‘I think me and you need to have a little chat, young lady, don’t you?’ Queenie said, folding her arms in a stern manner.

Brenda nodded sheepishly, then promptly burst into tears.

‘No point bastard-well crying after the horse has bolted, Bren, and don’t lie to me ’cause I know all the signs. Now, who is the fucking father?’ Queenie spat.

‘If I tell you, will you promise me you won’t tell my brothers? It wasn’t a fling, Mum. I’m not a slag. He was my boyfriend,’ Brenda wept.

Queenie was struggling to hold her temper, but knew she had to get the important information out of Brenda before she let fly at her. ‘Just tell me who he is, love, then we’ll sort it out from there.’

Relieved that her mother seemed to be taking the news so well, Brenda decided to come clean. ‘It’s Dean. Dean Smart. I haven’t told him yet. He dumped me for another girl last month,’ she admitted.

At the mention of the surname Smart, Queenie felt her pulse-rate shoot through the roof. Unable to stop herself, she let her hands do the talking with repetitive slaps. ‘You stupid little fucker! How could you even think of getting involved with a Smart when you know how much this family hates that revolting mob? You ain’t a true Butler, girl. We are loyal to the core, but not you, you take after that shitbag of a father of yours. Now, get in your bedroom, before I kick you from arsehole to breakfast time.’

Feeling incredibly sorry for herself, Brenda let out a loud wail and did exactly as she was told.

Because he worked nights and there was no way he could invite Nancy to his club now, Michael had devised a rota where he got to spend a few hours with her every day. Firstly, he would meet her at work and spend her lunch break with her. Then, he would pick her up when she had finished, so he managed to grab a couple of hours with her before he started work.

Because it was stifling hot, instead of going to the café like they usually did, Michael had made a packed lunch so they could sit in the sun and eat it.

‘Are you OK? You’re not your usual chatterbox self,’ Nancy remarked, holding Michael’s arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Michael put down his sandwich and kissed his girlfriend on the lips. ‘I’m OK, babe. Just got one or two things on my mind.’

‘What? You’re not having second thoughts about us, are you?’