Michael’s best friend Kevin had a Jamaican dad and an English mum and as the two young men walked into the Rib Room in Belgravia, both were aware of the nudges and whispers from snooty onlookers.
‘My brothers will be here in a minute. We’re a bit early,’ Michael said, awkwardly. He was well aware that the two posh old trouts on the table behind were looking down on Kevin because of his colour.
‘Is they talking about me because I a negro?’ Kevin asked, imitating a heavy Jamaican accent.
Michael burst out laughing. Kevin had been brought up in Mile End and was as cockney as he was. His dad had gone back to Jamaica when Kevin was just a baby and Michael always joked that the only other black man Kevin had ever met was the coal man when he was covered in soot. ‘Can you imagine the crumpet we’ll pull when we go out for a spin? We can go up Carnaby Street whenever we want,’ Michael suggested.
Kevin grinned. ‘I reckon we are gonna have the time of our lives now we can get out and about properly.’
Michael raised his glass and clinked it against Kevin’s. He adored his best pal, his family, his job, and now he finally had his beloved Lambretta, life was all but perfect.
‘Bleedin’ posh round ’ere, ain’t it? Talk about how the other half live,’ Vivian said to Queenie. She had never been to this part of London before and it was certainly more wealthy-looking than Whitechapel. Where they lived, the air was polluted by the rotting fruit in the market, and women were on their hands and knees scrubbing their doorsteps daily. Vivian couldn’t imagine the women of Belgravia even knowing what a scrubbing brush was.
Vinny had chosen the restaurant as a treat not only for his brother, but also with his mum and aunt in mind. The Rib Room had the reputation of selling the best beef in London and Vinny knew how partial his mother and aunt were to a decent piece of steak. ‘We’re nearly there now. Harrods ain’t far from here, you know,’ Roy said, pointing in the direction of the famous store.
‘I wanna do a wee-wee,’ Lenny said, holding the crotch of his trousers.
‘I think I’m gonna puke,’ Brenda complained, clutching her stomach.
Knowing how travel-sick his little sister had been once before in his car, Vinny pulled over immediately. ‘You know where the restaurant is from here, don’t you, Roy? Walk down there with Mum, Auntie Viv and the kids while I find somewhere to park.’
‘How’s she getting on with that girl at school now?’ Vivian whispered, as Brenda leapt out of the car and began to retch onto a nearby kerb.
Brenda had started secondary school only a few months ago. In her old school she’d had lots of friends, but in her new one, she had made very few and the only good friend she did have, she’d had a fight with earlier in the week. ‘She was glad I let her have today off to come out with us, but she’ll be OK. You know what kids are like. They hate one another one minute and are best mates again the next. What about Lenny? You told him he’s going back to school after Christmas yet?’ Queenie asked.
Vivian shook her head. Lenny had always attended mainstream schools, but the teachers had recently struggled to cope with him. They said he needed to go to a school that would be more equipped to cope with his needs. Vivian had been furious at the time and had given the headmaster what for. She wasn’t stupid, she knew her son was different, but she hated hearing other people say it. The local council had come to her rescue when Vinny had gone up there and had a strong word with them. Lenny would very soon be picked up every morning to be taken to a school in Aldgate that had much smaller numbers in the classrooms, more teachers, and most importantly catered for children with learning disabilities. Now Vivian had got her head around the fact her son would be attending a special school, she was quite pleased. Lenny needed more one-to-one tutoring and she wanted him to be able to read and write properly. She hadn’t told him about his new school yet though. She knew what Lenny was like. He would worry and ask her thousands of questions, so she’d decided to tell him only a day or two before he started there.
‘Here we are,’ Roy said, nodding towards an opulent-looking building.
Queenie and Vivian glanced at one another approvingly. They were both thinking exactly the same thing. Vinny and Roy were certainly going up in the world and long may that continue.
The lunch was a roaring success, but by the time the dessert arrived, Vinny had started to become pissed off. For the past ten minutes all Roy, Michael and Kevin had discussed were girls they’d copped off with or fancied and not only did Vinny think that this was an inappropriate conversation to be having in front of his mum, aunt, Brenda and Lenny, he was also angry as he would rather be talking business. In Vinny’s eyes, earning big bucks was and would always be far more important than some dopey slag of a bird. Yvonne Summers had taught him that lesson.
Watching his mum and aunt egg Michael on to tell them more about the girl he had recently dated with the massive boobies, Vinny had a sudden urge to smash his glass against the table.
‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Queenie asked, as young Brenda and Lenny both nigh-on jumped out of their skins.
Roy knew exactly what the matter was, but said nothing. Whenever he met a girl he liked, he always played it down to his brother because he knew he would get the third degree otherwise. Not once had Vinny ever liked a girl he had courted and Roy dreaded the day he met the special one whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, as he knew that it would cause murder. All Vinny was interested in was money, notoriety and violence. Anything with tits and a fanny did not come into that category and Roy could never see Vinny getting married himself. He just wasn’t the type.
‘You haven’t answered me. I asked you what the matter was?’ Queenie repeated.
Vinny did his best to disguise his temper. Michael’s birthday had cost him a bloody fortune and had he known beforehand that George Geary would swindle him out of fifteen hundred quid for a licence to serve poxy alcohol, he might not have gone so overboard. ‘I haven’t brought this family to a top-class restaurant so we could spend the day talking about women’s body parts. If I wanted porn, I would have gone to Soho. Brenda and Champ don’t want to listen to such garbage, do they? Young ears an’ all that.’
‘We were only having a laugh, Vinny. Nobody said anything bad,’ Vivian said sternly. She was shocked by her nephew’s uncalled-for outburst, to say the least.
‘It’s my fault. I started the conversation, so I’ll take the blame,’ Michael admitted sheepishly.
Looking at his brother’s sorrowful expression was enough to snap Vinny out of his temper tantrum. ‘No, it’s not your fault, it’s mine. I overreacted because I’m just dead excited about your other surprise. That is why I wanted to change the direction of the conversation and I’m sorry for snapping at everybody.’
‘Ere you go, bruv,’ Roy said, handing Michael a large brown bag.
Thinking how lucky his pal was to get so many wonderful presents, Kevin looked over Michael’s shoulder as he opened it. ‘That’s well ace! It’s real mohair,’ he exclaimed.
Michael couldn’t believe his luck. The Lambretta had been his best present ever and on top of that he had now been given an amazing suit.
‘That’s to wear for work,’ Vinny said, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
‘Christ, I won’t be getting oil and petrol over this. I’ll stick with me overalls for work, thanks,’ Michael chuckled.
Queenie felt her stomach churn. Vinny had a strange way of dealing with matters at times. Surely offering Michael the job and waiting for his response would have been more appropriate than telling him he had a new job?
‘You ain’t working at that shitty garage no more, Michael. Me and Roy popped down there this morning to inform your boss that you won’t be coming back. He was fine about it. He understood that you needed to move onto bigger and better things,’ Vinny explained.
Lenny and Brenda were happily chatting amongst themselves and had no idea of the importance of the adults’ conversation. Queenie, Vivian and Roy did
though. The glances exchanged between the three of them said it all. Kevin had always been wary of Michael’s older brothers, especially Vinny, so not wanting to get involved in a family dispute, he just stared at his hands.
Michael stared at his brother in total disbelief. There was a programme on TV called Candid Camera that Bob Monkhouse presented. It set up situations such as the one that he currently found himself in, where a camera was hidden in the premises. Then, all of a sudden a man would pop out of nowhere and reveal that it was all a big joke. ‘Is this some kind of a game? You are winding me up, aren’t you?’ Michael asked, in a voice that didn’t sound very much like his own.
‘’Course I ain’t winding you up. You’re sixteen now, Michael. You’re a man, not a boy, and you can’t spend the rest of your life working as a glorified teaboy. That’s why me and Roy decided that the time was right for you to come and work with us at the club. We need an extra pair of hands and you’ll be on loads more money than you’re on now. In time, all three of us will become equal partners.’
‘But I don’t want to work at the club, Vinny. I want to be a mechanic. It’s always been my dream to be a mechanic, ain’t it, Mum?’
Unable to look her youngest son in the eye, Queenie nodded, then turned her attention to Lenny and Brenda. This was nothing to do with her, it was boy’s talk and she didn’t want to get involved in taking sides. She loved all her sons, so how could she?
‘Once you start at the club and you’ve been there a week or two, you’ll love it, Michael. No more freezing your nuts off while lying on a concrete floor,’ Roy joked. He could tell by the look in Vinny’s eyes that he was getting annoyed by Michael’s lack of gratitude and he didn’t want the atmosphere to turn sour.
‘Look, Roy, Vinny, I really appreciate what you’re offering me and all the lovely presents you’ve bought me, but I don’t want to work with you. I love my job in the garage and one day my dream is to own a garage of my own.’
Vinny laughed sarcastically. ‘And my dream was to be the next Jimmy Greaves and bang in goals for Spurs, but it never happened, did it? I’m sorry and all that but me and Roy really need you to come and work with us now. We can’t employ strangers, we don’t trust ’em enough, and as our brother, you owe it to us to link up with the family firm. We’re Butlers, and like it or not, us Butlers stick together. It’s not up for negotiation; it’s your duty, Michael. You start first thing Monday morning.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Nancy Walker lowered her eyes when her teacher introduced her to the rest of the classroom. Everybody was gawping at her, so much so, she felt like one of those strange-looking people who appeared in freak shows.
When Nancy was allocated a desk next to another girl with mousy brown hair, she was relieved when the girl smiled at her.
‘It’s horrible starting a new school, isn’t it? But don’t be nervous. You can hang out with me in the playground,’ the girl said kindly.
Thrilled that she had already made a new friend, Nancy grinned. ‘What’s your name?’ she whispered.
‘Brenda. Brenda Butler.’
Michael listened miserably while Vinny and Roy explained the workings of the club to him. He already missed the smell of oil and petrol and the excitement he felt tinkering about with different makes and models of cars and bikes.
‘So the bulk of our profit comes solely from the booze. We buy that for peanuts off a guy called Ted, and in return, Ted gets treated like royalty every time he sets foot in here, which is most weekends,’ Vinny explained.
‘So, what will I actually be doing then?’ Michael asked, his voice devoid of any enthusiasm. He still thought his brothers were bang out of order.
‘You’ll just be doing the same as me and Vin. All we do of an evening is chat politely to the customers, keep an eye out for trouble, and generally make sure the place is ticking over nicely. My mates Pete and Paul work on the door making sure that only members come in. Don’t look so glum, Michael, you’ll love it when you get in the swing of it. It’s the good life, bruv,’ Roy said.
Sick of his brother’s lack of enthusiasm and sullen expression, Vinny stood up and grabbed Michael by the lapels of his new mohair suit.
‘What you doing, Vin? Leave him be,’ Roy ordered, when Vinny pushed Michael roughly towards the wall.
Vinny ignored Roy’s advice and gave Michael some home truths. ‘You are one ungrateful little cunt, has anybody ever told you that? It is about time you started acting your age and pulling your weight for this family like me and Roy have had to for years. Who do you think supports Mum, Brenda, Auntie Viv and Champ, eh? It ain’t our useless fucking father, that’s for sure. You owe it to us to chip in and that is what you shall do, so the quicker you put a smile on that miserable fucking face of yours and show a bit of spirit and gratitude, the better.’
When Vinny let go of him, a shocked Michael sat on a nearby sofa and put his head in his hands. Nobody argued with Vinny, including him, so there was no way out of the situation. He knew he was going to hate his new job, but he would just have to grin and bear it. What other choice did he have? ‘I’m sorry, Vinny. I’ll work hard for you, I promise,’ he said, meekly.
Feeling a bit guilty for obviously frightening his younger sibling, Vinny walked over and ruffled his hair like he used to when he was a child. ‘We don’t need you back here until tonight, so why don’t you shoot home, take your suit off and go out on your moped, eh? You’ve got your test next week, so you need to get some practice.’
Grinning falsely, Michael thanked his brother and left the club.
Mary Walker wasn’t having the best of days. She had got two customers’ orders wrong, dropped a plate of food and then scalded her hand with boiling-hot water.
‘Why don’t you have a sit down and I’ll bring you over a nice mug of tea?’ Shirley offered.
Mary smiled.When Shirley had asked for a job on Friday, the café had been that busy that Donald had asked her to start immediately. Shirley only lived a few minutes’ walk from the café, and therefore knew most of the punters really well. ‘OK then. I could do with resting my feet for ten minutes. I shall be a bundle of nerves until they get home, you know,’ Mary said, referring to her children’s first day at a new school. Christopher hadn’t been too bad this morning, but she had overheard Nancy crying in the bathroom, which had worried her terribly. The junior school that Christopher was attending was only five minutes from Nancy’s new school and the children had been adamant that they wanted to walk to and from school together. Mary had wanted to take them, but both children said it would make them a target for bullies if they turned up with their mother in tow.
Mary plonked herself down at a nearby table and was just about to start reading the newspaper when Queenie and Vivian Butler walked in with little Lenny.
‘Hello, sweetheart. How long you been working here?’ Queenie asked Shirley.
Pretending to read the paper, Mary carried on ear-wigging. It soon became obvious to her that Shirley knew Queenie and Vivian very well. Furious when somebody gave little Lenny money to put in the jukebox because it left her unable to hear the conversation properly, Mary scuttled out the kitchen to tell Donald the latest.
When Judy Preston got a bee in her bonnet, she found it very hard to shift it and the more she thought about Vinny and Roy Butler turning up at her house and barging their way in, the more irate she became. Her brother Johnny had been livid when she had told him and he was going to sort out Vinny and Roy for her. That wasn’t enough for Judy though, which is why she had decided to pay Albie a visit in hospital and give him a piece of her mind as well.
‘Come on, Mark. Get in your pushchair,’ Judy urged her son.
‘We going Nanna’s house?’ Mark asked excitedly.
‘No, we are going to see the cowardly tosser who has impregnated me.’
After having lunch in the café, Queenie and Vivian went to visit their mum in nearby Bow Cemetery, then parted company on the way back because Queenie felt it was
her duty to visit Albie.
‘I would say give the old bastard my regards, but you know I don’t mean it,’ Vivian said, putting her headscarf on to stop the drizzle getting to her hair.
After telling her sister that if she hadn’t have suffered the misfortune of marrying Albie, she wouldn’t be visiting the old bastard herself, Queenie waved goodbye, then made her way into the London Hospital. As she reached her husband’s ward, she heard his name mentioned and her ears pricked up. Pretending to go through her shopping bag as though she was searching for something, Queenie surreptitiously looked out of the corner of her eye. There was a young blonde girl with a child in a pushchair, asking the nurse for directions to Albie’s bed. Wondering who on earth the tart could be, Queenie cautiously followed her into the ward.
As usual, being the miserable old bastard that he was, Albie had the curtains drawn around his bed. Queenie crept up to the neighbouring bed and put her forefinger to her lips to warn the senile old Mr Perry not to say anything. Surely her Albie hadn’t found himself a young bit of fluff? Queenie hadn’t fancied the dirty, disgusting old drunk for years, so how could anybody else?
Albie had been fast asleep until he felt a violent prodding on his right arm. Expecting it to be Queenie, Albie nearly had a cardiac arrest when he locked eyes with Judy Preston. ‘You can’t come here! What do you want? My Queenie’ll be here soon. You’re gonna have to leave,’ he said, his face twitching with anxiety.
‘Well, you should have thought of that before you got me pregnant, then sent your sons round my house to threaten me in front of Marky,’ Judy spat.
Unable to stop her legs from buckling, Queenie took a tumble and fell on top of old Mr Perry.
‘Get your hands off me chopper! Nurse, nurse,’ the stick-thin fragile ninety-four-year-old wailed, as he put his right hand on his private parts to protect them.
Pulling herself together, Queenie took a couple of deep breaths, picked up her umbrella and flew through Albie’s curtain like a bat out of hell. ‘You dirty fucking old bastard,’ she screamed, as she began to smash her brolly over her cheating husband’s head.
The Trap Page 5
