‘Come on, then, you know my story. Spill the beans: how did yer get all this?’
Mustapha laughed, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ he said, as some dark-haired beauty sidled towards him. ‘Camellia, go and get Roxanne and you can both join us.’
As the two stunners sat at the table, Mustapha introduced them, ‘Camellia, Roxanne, this is a very good friend of mine, Tommy, and tonight we’re all gonna have some fun.’
As the girls giggled, Tommy winked at them. Now this was what you called a fucking good night out!
Happy, drunk and tired, Freddie was ready for the off. ‘Where’s your brother gone? He would have said if he was going home and we can’t just leave him here.’
James picked his beer up. ‘He’s probably pulled some bird. Come on, we’ll have a walk round, see if we can find him.’
After walking around for ten minutes, Freddie spotted Tommy through the glass in the VIP lounge.
‘I need to see me mate, I won’t be a sec,’ he told the doorman.
The doorman shook his head. ‘No pass, no entry.’
Freddie was annoyed. He hated fucking doormen at the best of times, and this fat foreign prick thought he was Rambo. Agitated, he stood his ground.
‘Look, I’m his business partner, this is his brother, and we ain’t leaving here till we fuckin’ speak to him.’
Seeing that Freddie meant business, the doorman ordered someone to go and tell Tommy he was wanted.
Seeing his pal walk towards him, Freddie craned his neck. ‘What yer doing in there? Who you with?’
Tommy grinned. ‘An old pal I was in nick with.’
Freddie peered through the glass. ‘Do I know him?’
‘No, you don’t,’ Tommy replied.
Seeing James stagger backwards, Freddie grabbed hold of him. ‘Me and him are fucked, Tom. It’s three o’clock – you coming with us?’
Tommy shook his head. ‘I’m gonna stay here with me mate. I’ll bell yer tomorrow.’
Freddie said goodbye and led James out of the club. It was unlike Tommy to be evasive with him, but he’d certainly been cagey about the friend he was with. Spotting a black cab, he flagged it down.
‘Bethnal Green and Hainault, mate.’
Noticing James swaying, the driver was dubious. ‘He ain’t gonna chuck up on me, is he, mate?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘It’s his stag night; he’s only going to Bethnal Green. He’ll be fine, I promise yer.’
Maria lay in bed, wide awake. She couldn’t sleep, not until James got in safely. Hearing the downstairs door go, she sat up. ‘James? You all right?’
The cold air had knocked James senseless. Dragging him up the stairs, Freddie unlocked the other door.
‘I’ve got your fiancée here, Maria,’ he shouted.
Throwing her dressing gown around her, Maria went to help out. She didn’t care that he was drunk, as long as he was home.
‘The bleedin’ state of him! How many’s he had?’ she joked.
Freddie grinned. ‘He’s been as good as gold. He’s been standing with me at the bar singing your praises all night and, apart from a roly-poly strippergram, he ain’t as much as looked at one other bird.’
Ordering Freddie to chuck him on the bed, Maria thanked him, said goodbye and snuggled up to her fiancé. Thank God he was home in one piece.
Accepting the offer of another fat line, Tommy grabbed the straw and indulged in the hit. Roxanne was a babe and the blow-job she’d given him was a work of art.
Ordering the girls to make themselves scarce, Mustapha sat down opposite him. ‘You enjoying yourself, Tommy?’
Blown away by it all, Tommy threw his arms across the back of the leather sofa. ‘I’m curious, Mustapha. How the fuck did you come out the Ville and get all this?’
Mustapha leaned his elbows on the table. ‘You can have what I’ve got, Tommy. I’m always looking for sensible business associates. Do you want what I’ve got? Do you wanna earn lots of wonga?’
Tommy sighed. ‘You bet I do. What am I gonna be doing, then? What’s the magic word?’
Mustapha smiled. ‘Heroin, Tommy. The magic word is heroin!’
THIRTY-ONE
Johnny grabbed his sports bag, shouted goodbye to his pals and rushed towards home. His uncle James was getting married this afternoon and he was ever so excited. He’d never been to a wedding before, and his nan had brought him his first ever suit. She’d also bought him a posh shirt, tie and shiny new shoes. Even his mum had a smart new outfit, thanks to Maureen’s generosity.
James had asked him to be pageboy, but his nan had insisted that if he accepted the offer, he had to stay round hers and go to the wedding from there. He’d refused, knowing full well that his mum would never get to the church on time without his help. Also, he hated being the centre of attention, and was more comfortable to just watch the wedding than have to walk down the aisle behind Maria.
He’d had a football match this morning, and his mum had promised him that she wouldn’t drink or take any drugs while he was out. He didn’t want her showing him up, today of all days. She looked nice in her new outfit, and he wanted to walk in holding her arm, and be able to feel proud of her for once.
‘I’m home, Mum.’ Johnny’s heart sank as he heard the voices of her friends.
‘Shoeshine boy,’ Dave Taylor shouted.
Johnny ignored him, and walked over to his mother. She was asleep on the carpet and as soon as he saw the empty syringe lying beside her, he knew that she wouldn’t make the wedding. With tears in his eyes, he walked away. His nan had been right, as usual.
‘Yer better off comin’ with us, Johnny. Yer mother’s so fuckin’ unreliable. What’s the betting she gets out of her box and you end up having to make your own way there?’
Johnny had been adamant that she wouldn’t let him down. ‘She’s wearing her new outfit, Nan, and she’s really looking forward to it.’
Thankfully, his nan had forced him to take the address of the church and some cab money, just in case. Annoyed with himself for not listening to his nan, Johnny wiped his eyes and ran himself a bath. The water was cold, so he decided to stand up in it, and wash the mud off that way. Satisfied he was clean enough, he released the dirty water, and dried himself with a towel.
He ran into his room and looked in his wardrobe. His suit, shirt, tie and shoes were nowhere to be seen. His heart lurched as he frantically searched for them. His mum had sold stuff of his in the past, but surely even she wouldn’t sell his wedding outfit. He chucked on his tracksuit and went into the living room.
‘Mum, Mum, where’s me clothes for the wedding? Have yer put them somewhere else?’
Susan struggled to focus. ‘Dunno where they are,’ she slurred.
Dave Taylor burst out laughing. ‘Some little boy’s probably strolling down the road in them as we speak. Poor little shoeshine boy won’t be goin’ to the ball after all.’
Johnny burst into tears, and ran from the flat as fast as his legs would take him.
As Maria walked into the room, her mum, Maureen and Ethel gasped. Most brides looked beautiful, but Maria looked sensational. With her tiny figure, perfect make-up and dark ringlets, she looked more like a princess than a bride.
As the three women crowed and complimented her beauty, Maria stood nervously waiting for her car to arrive. Marrying James was her dream; it was the thought of spending the day with Tommy that was giving her the jitters.
She’d begged James not to have him as best man, but he’d been adamant, and brushed away her fears. ‘Look, I know you don’t like him, but he’s my brother and, apart from you, he’s my best mate. He’s got a good heart, Maria. Please give him a chance.’
She’d left it at that. What could she say? She didn’t want James to become suspicious. Trouble was, Tommy had done it again. At the hen party, he’d got himself involved, just to spoil her night. Now she had to say ‘I do’ to the man she loved with that bastard handing over the rings and smirking at her.
Seeing the car pull up, she took a deep breath. She had to put on a brave face and somehow get through today. Tomorrow they would be on their honeymoon. She would be James’s wife, Mrs Maria Hutton, and finally she could relax and enjoy herself.
James stood nervously at the front of the church. She was a stunner, his Maria, much better looking than he was, and he couldn’t believe that after all these years, she was about to become his wife. What if she changed her mind and realised she could do better? Annoyed with himself for being so stupid, he pulled himself together. She loved him, they were soul mates and she would never hurt him like that.
Seeing the vicar smile and nod at the organist, he breathed a sigh of relief. She was here and ready to marry him.
As the ‘Wedding March’ began, he glanced around. The sight of her took his breath away. He’d been five years old when he first fell in love with her and, twenty years later, he couldn’t believe that they were about to be joined in matrimony. Her beauty brought tears to his eyes. She’d always been the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, but the sight of her in her stunning white wedding dress made him feel like he’d been struck by lightning.
Maria’s mum had urged her to let her dad give her away, but Maria had been dead against it. ‘He broke your heart, Mum and he left us skint and in shit-street. I don’t want him or his old tart anywhere near us at my wedding,’ she’d insisted.
Instead she’d chosen her grandad, Ted, who was now hobbling along beside her on a stick. As she reached him, James grasped her hand, smiled, and turned to the vicar.
Unable to see Susan or Johnny, Maureen nudged Ethel. ‘I knew it. I fuckin’ knew our Susan would let that boy down and break his little heart.’
Ethel nodded. Johnny was a glutton for punishment, bless him.
While the vows were being recited, Tommy ruffled Alfie’s hair and glanced at Lucy. All tearful and gooey, she was, silly cow. She kept on at him lately, now they had another one on the way, to make an honest woman of her. She had no fucking chance – he’d rather marry his nan! Half a bottle of Jack Daniels and a gram of gear he’d drunk and snorted this morning, and he was still having trouble getting through the day.
He hated happy people, they pissed him off and as for that slag, Maria, she didn’t deserve his brother. Many a time he’d nearly slipped up and told James the truth: but what was the point? He’d probably forgive the fucking slut anyway.
As he was called to hand over the rings, he felt like spewing his guts up. His mum, nan, Freddie, Sarah, everyone had stupid grins on their faces. Unable to resist a smirk at Maria, he walked away. Let them all believe in true love. Only he knew the truth: Maria was a fucking whore.
‘You may now kiss the bride.’
The church erupted in tears and cheers as James did the honours.
‘Mazel tov,’ Harold shouted, as he squeezed his wife’s hand. She might now be twenty-two stone, but he still loved her, and remembered his own wedding as if it was yesterday.
The reception was to be held in the Horn of Plenty. It was usually dead on a Saturday night and the guv’nor was only too pleased to close it to the general public and earn some proper money. James had offered Maria the works, but she’d knocked it back. ‘Pick somewhere cheap, James. I’d rather spend our savings on a nice house in Essex than the actual wedding,’ she said.
James had chosen the venue with care. A spit’s throw from home, it was so easy for everyone to get to. It was also his dad’s old local, where they’d held his funeral. He may not have known his old man that well, but he often thought of him, and by choosing the Horns, he felt as if he was including Tommy senior in the celebrations somehow. James and Maria had paid for the wedding themselves, but Kenny had insisted on paying the bar bill.
‘I’m doing it as a present from your dad. He was a good man, James, before the drink got hold of him, and it’s what he would have wanted,’ he said.
Kenny had wanted to book a meal in a posh hotel, but both Maria and James had said no. He’d already done more than enough and they decided on pie and mash and fish and chips being brought to the pub instead.
James had decided against a disco and had chosen the music with his mum and nan in mind. George and Brian were once legends on the East End circuit. A bit like Chas & Dave, they did all the old stuff. He’d also booked Roy Davis, another well-known local singer, to perform in the interval.
As the guests began to arrive, the music started. Wendy stood next to Kenny with a look of disdain. He’d begged her to come today, and the promise of a weekend away for her and her friend at the new posh health club that had just opened was too good to refuse.
Kenny smiled at her. ‘It’s my favourite nephew’s wedding – please try and enjoy yourself for once.’
Gritting her teeth, Wendy smiled sarcastically. She’d avoided his scumbag family like the plague since the last turn-out, but tonight she would get very drunk and put up with the dregs of society, just for his sake.
Sitting next to Maureen, Ethel sang along to the oldies with Brenda and Sandra. It was at times like this that she missed her Gladys. There wasn’t a day went by when she didn’t think of her best friend, and even though Glad had been senile, Ethel would still give her right arm to be looking after her again.
‘You all right, Mum?’
She smiled at Maureen. ‘Just thinking about Glad. I always do when all these old songs are played.’
Maureen grabbed her hand. ‘Come on, let’s have a dance.’
‘Nanny.’
Spotting little Johnny, Maureen picked him up. ‘Where was you and Mummy? You missed the wedding. Where’s yer nice suit? Why you wearing that old tracksuit?’
Johnny clung to her, ‘I couldn’t find my new clothes. I didn’t want to come to the church in a tracksuit,’ he sobbed.
Maureen was furious. Her Susan was a fucking disgrace. Hiding her anger, she kissed him, ‘You’re staying with me tonight, young man.’
Johnny smiled. He was happy again now. He loved staying at his nan’s house – she spoilt him rotten. He waved at Nanny Ethel, and ran towards her.
‘’Ere he is, me favourite boy. Where yer been? Where’s yer whistle and flute?’
Maureen shook her head to warn Ethel not to say any more. ‘He’s mislaid his new clobber,’ Maureen said kindly.
Guessing that his no-good mother had flogged his clothes for drugs, Ethel decided to cheer him up. ‘Yer remember that nasty Auntie Wendy? She keeps looking at us. Why don’t me and you go and say hello, and when Nanny scratches her snatch, you scratch your cobblers, got it?’
Johnny giggled. He knew exactly what he had to do.
‘All right, Wendy? Enjoying yourself are yer?’ Ethel asked sarcastically.
Wendy was drunk by now, extremely fucking drunk, and for once, even though it was horrendous and the people were vagrants, she was quite enjoying herself. As her nasty mother-in-law scratched her crotch and the foreign-looking grandson scratched his bollocks, she smiled. The old girl had taken the piss out of her for years and two could play at that game. Lifting her Karen Millen dress, she shoved her hand as far up her kilt as it would go.
‘Must be something in the air, Ethel, I’ve got an itch as well.’
Ethel couldn’t stop laughing. Who would have thought it, eh?
Walking back from the toilet, Kenny stared at his wife in horror.
‘Stop it, Wendy. What are you doing?’ he said, pulling her dress down.
‘You told me to enjoy myself. You’ve always wanted me to join in with your family, so now I am. Come on Ethel, let’s dance.’
Seeing Kenny’s shocked expression, Wendy carried on dancing. Seeing as he was always working, it was nice to have his attention for once. She loved him, she always had, but their problems had reached breaking point. All her friends had kids and she resented him for them being childless. Low sperm count equalled not fucking capable and she was sick of living a lie. Wealth meant nothing if you weren’t happy, and there were times when she certainly wasn�
�t.
As the ‘Hokey Cokey’ started, she smiled to herself. For years he’d begged her to join in with his appalling family and now she was ready. As everyone stuck their right foot in, she pulled the neck of her dress down.
‘You stick your right tit in, Your right tit out, In, out, in, out, and shake it all about,’ she screamed, flashing her bare breast.
Kenny grabbed her top and put her tit away. Appalled by her behaviour, he marched her out of the door.
At ten o’clock, James gave the signal to the singers and barman. He’d already arranged what was going to happen.
‘The groom would now like to say a few words.’
Taking the mike off the singer, James took a deep breath. He wasn’t one for the spotlight and he certainly wasn’t one for speeches.
‘Hi everybody. There’s a few people that I’d like to thank for today. Firstly, I’d like to thank my mum and nan for all their help and support. My uncle Kenny, who I think has gone home, for paying for the reception. My brother, Tommy, for being my best man and I’d also like to thank all of yous for coming. There are two more people I want to mention. As most of you know, my dad had a lot of problems and drank in this pub for many years. Well, whatever he was, he was still my dad. I’m part of him and I loved him. Last, but definitely not least, I want to thank Maria. I was five years old when I first met this girl and I fell in love with her then. She looked over the garden fence at me and I was so taken with her, I fell off me pogo stick.’
As everybody laughed, he urged Maria to join him on the stage. Seeing Tommy glaring at her, she chose not to.
‘You carry on,’ she mouthed to him.
James blew her a kiss. ‘She may be too shy to join me on the stage but, thankfully, she wasn’t too shy to marry me. Maria, I can honestly say you’ve made me the happiest man alive.’
Nodding to the barman to play the CD, he took her in his arms to the sound of Donny Osmond singing ‘Puppy Love’.
The Betrayer Page 24
