The Trap

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The Trap Page 13

by Chambers, Kimberley


  How her knees never buckled under her when the handsome lad approached her, Nancy would never know. He was even more beautiful up close than from a distance. His hair was jet black, his eyes were a piercing green, and his perfect straight teeth were as white as driven snow. He was even better-looking than Marc bloody Bolan.

  ‘Is your name Nancy?’ the lad asked politely.

  Nancy couldn’t trust herself to speak, such was the effect this stranger was having on her, so she nodded instead. How the hell did he know her name?

  The lad held out his right hand. ‘You used to knock about with my little sister, Brenda, for a short spell many moons ago, and I never forget a pretty face.’

  Nancy clapped her hand over her mouth as recognition engulfed her. ‘Michael. Michael Butler,’ she mumbled.

  Michael smiled and flicked his hair out of his eyes in a seductive manner. ‘You remembered me then?’

  At the tender age of eleven, Michael Butler had been her first major crush, so how could Nancy ever have forgetten him?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘You all right, love?’ Queenie shouted, as she heard her daughter stomp down the stairs.

  ‘No. I’m anything but all right which is why I’ve decided to go out, and seeing as I am sixteen, there is nothing you can do to stop me,’ Brenda replied. She had been fuming when she’d arrived home yesterday from the fair. She had expected some sympathy off her mother, but instead her mum had stuck up for Vinny. Talk about old habits dying hard.

  ‘If you walk out of this house, young lady, don’t you bother coming back. You know it’s Little Vinny’s birthday party,’ Queenie yelled.

  Yesterday had been a wake-up call for Brenda and she could kick herself for not standing up to Vinny at the fair. All her brothers were over-protective of her, they had been ever since they had found out she had a boyfriend at thirteen, but Vinny was by far the worst. Glaring at both her mother and her aunt, Brenda put her hands on her hips. ‘Fine! I’ll go and pack my case now.’

  ‘Will all my friends be there yet?’ Little Vinny asked his father as they drove towards Queenie’s house. He had already received some great presents. His dad had bought him a bike, a Hornby train set, and an Airfix Spitfire, and his Uncle Michael had given him some Stickle Bricks and a Meccano set.

  ‘No. Your party don’t start till one and it’s only twelve,’ Vinny explained, glancing at Michael. His brother was sitting in the passenger seat staring out of the window like a zombie. ‘What the fuck’s up with you? You were acting really weird last night.’

  Michael shook his head as if to try to wake himself up. Over the years he had dated more girls than Vinny and Roy put together, but not one had ever had the effect on him that Nancy Walker seemed to be having. His mum and aunt often joked he should be called Alfie, after the playboy in the Michael Caine film, such was his thirst for pretty girls, but since meeting Nancy yesterday, Michael could think of little else. ‘Sorry I’ve been a bit distant, but I can’t stop thinking about someone I bumped into. Do you remember the girl whose parents ran Old Jack’s café for a while before it was turned into a butcher’s shop?’

  ‘Yeah, ’course I do. It was her little brother who lied to the Old Bill for me,’ Vinny chuckled.

  ‘Well, that’s the girl I met at the fair yesterday. Her name’s Nancy and she has to be the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.’

  Vinny looked at his brother in pure disgust. ‘Fuck me, you are making me want to vomit. Don’t be getting involved with her. Her father was a right sanctimonious bastard, and I don’t fancy opening up a can of worms over the Phillips you-know-what. You ain’t arranged to take her out, have ya? I thought you were still shafting that Denise bird?’

  ‘What’s you-know-what mean, Dad?’ Little Vinny asked curiously.

  ‘Not now, son. I’m talking to your Uncle Michael.’

  ‘Me and Denise have done nothing but argue for the past month, Vin. She keeps talking about marriage and babies and I’m gonna have to end it with her. I’m just not that into her.’

  ‘So, have you asked this Nancy out?’ Vinny asked, as he parked the car outside his mother’s house.

  ‘Well, not exactly. But, I did invite her and her mate to come to the club on Friday night,’ Michael replied, rather sheepishly.

  ‘You did what? That Nancy was roughly the same age as our Brenda. We run a nightclub, not a fucking playgroup, Michael. Anyway, as I’ve already told you, I don’t want you having nothing to do with that family. Talk about open up old wounds.’

  Michael said nothing. Nancy had told him that she worked in Woolworth’s in Ilford, so he would pop in there and speak to her. Vinny might be able to stop Nancy from coming to the club, but he couldn’t stop him from taking her out somewhere else. Michael didn’t usually dare disobey Vinny’s orders, but there was something so special about Nancy that for once ignoring his brother’s instructions seemed like a risk worth taking.

  Over in Ilford, Donald turned the open sign to ‘closed’ on his shop door and breathed a sigh of relief. Sunday was the only day he and Mary closed early, and now Nancy was working full-time in Woolworth’s, Sunday afternoons were the only quality time they got to spend together as a family. Today, Donald had invited his and Mary’s friends, Derrick and Margaret Robins, over for a traditional roast dinner. Young Roger would be accompanying his parents and Donald hoped that today would be the day when his stubborn daughter would finally see sense.

  Nancy’s favourite TV programme was Top of the Pops and Donald had quietly suggested weeks ago to Roger that he should apply for tickets. Going to watch some of her favourite pop stars appear live was much more Nancy’s cup of tea than going dancing or to the pictures, and Roger receiving the tickets this week had worked out very well because Nancy’s all-time idol was currently at number one in the charts, which meant he would definitely be performing on the show. Donald grinned as he took the stairs two by two. There was no way Nancy would refuse a date with Roger if it meant her being able to see Marc Bolan up close, so his plan had worked out perfectly. Donald patted himself mentally on the back. He was such a clever man at times. He really was.

  Little Vinny’s party wasn’t going quite to plan. ‘Where are all my other mates, Dad? Why ain’t they come yet?’ the boy asked, a sad expression on his face.

  Absolutely gutted that his pride and joy was upset on his birthday, Vinny hugged his son tightly to his chest. ‘Your guess is as good as mine, boy,’ he said, seething inside. He had no idea why only fifteen of Little Vinny’s friends had turned up, but when he saw the fathers of the other fifteen who had failed to show, Vinny would make the bastards pay.

  Another two people currently discussing why only half of Little Vinny’s mates had turned up were Queenie and Vivian. ‘I reckon there’s been a bug going around his school or something,’ Queenie said, trying to make some sense out of the awkward situation. It would never have occurred to her that people might not want their children mixing with her notorious family, as she only saw her brood as perfect.

  ‘Lenny, come over here now. You’re too old to play musical chairs. You’ll squash all the children,’ Vivian shouted out.

  Realizing that Lenny looked near to tears, Vinny walked over to him and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. ‘I’ve got a special job for you, Champ. I want you to be the DJ and stop the music. Can you do that for me?’

  ‘Yeah, ’course I can,’ Lenny replied, his eyes lighting up with excitement. His life’s ambition was to become a DJ, such was his love for music.

  ‘Your Vinny is just so good with Lenny, ain’t he, Queen? He has far more tolerance with him than I seem to have lately. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits, but he do drive me mad at times,’ Vivian confessed.

  ‘So, where’s Roy and Brenda?’ Michael asked, plonking himself on a chair next to his mum.

  ‘Roy rang up this morning, said he’ll be here by two, and Brenda stormed out with her suitcase earlier. Leaving home again, she reckons.’<
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  Vivian chuckled. ‘Do you remember the last time Bren packed her case and left? She was back by bleedin’ teatime.’

  Queenie raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement. ‘So, how did you get on at the fair yesterday? Was you there when Vinny and Bren started arguing?’ Queenie asked Michael. Then, noticing the blush on her youngest son’s cheeks and the twinkle in his eye, she changed tack. ‘Alfie strikes again! Come on then, who is she?’

  About to tell his mum about meeting up with Nancy, Michael was interrupted by a scream and a thud.

  ‘Oh my gawd! You all right, love? What happened?’ Queenie asked, rushing to the aid of the child who had fallen and cut his head open on the hearth that surrounded her fireplace.

  ‘It was Vinny. He pushed Jacob over so he could sit on the chair first,’ a little blonde girl informed Queenie.

  ‘No, I didn’t. You’re a lying grass,’ Little Vinny replied, glaring at the girl.

  Worried that her grandson was about to lunge at his little guest, Queenie grabbed him by his arms so he was facing her. ‘Now, tell Nanny the truth. Did you push that boy over?’

  ‘No, I did not.’

  ‘Yes you did,’ the injured little boy said, holding his bloodied head in his hands.

  Michael and Vinny glanced at one another. Both were aware that apart from some of the children playing musical chairs, they were the only two people in the room who had clocked what had happened. Even when the injured child started crying for his mother, both Michael and Vinny kept schtum. They were Butlers through and through and snitching on their own was totally out of the question.

  Realizing that his difficult daughter was obviously bored, Donald decided the time was right to spring the surprise on her. ‘Mary, go and get the Pomagne out of the fridge, so I can open it.’

  Mary knew that the Pomagne had been bought to signal Roger’s surprise, and she had a feeling her daughter wasn’t going to be as elated with the Top of the Pops tickets as Donald insisted she would be.

  ‘What are we celebrating?’ Nancy asked, when her father handed her a glass.

  ‘Roger has a wonderful surprise for you, don’t you, Roger?’ Donald replied, with a stupid grin on his face.

  Nancy’s eyes lit up when she saw what the tickets were for and the date on the front. ‘Oh my God! T-Rex! Marc Bolan!’ she screamed, as she threw her arms around Roger’s neck.

  Donald was elated by his daughter’s response and display of affection towards Roger, and he treated Mary to one of his I-told-you-so smiles. The smile was soon wiped off Donald’s face though, when his daughter announced that she was going to take her friend Rhonda with her.

  Mary, Margaret and Derrick all flinched as they realized that Nancy had got the wrong end of the stick.

  Clocking the embarrassed look on his father’s face, Christopher decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘Roger is going to accompany you to the Top of the Pops studio, Nancy. He has got the tickets for you to go with him.’

  Appalled by the very thought of Roger accompanying her anywhere, Nancy knew she had to stand her ground. She was truly poxed off with her father’s cumbersome match-making skills, and now she had met Michael, was damned if she was going to put up with it one minute longer.

  ‘Where do you think you are going, young lady?’ Donald yelled, when Nancy ran from the table and grabbed her jacket.

  ‘Out! I am quite capable of finding myself a husband, thank you, so in future, just keep your noses out of my bloody business.’

  Red-faced with embarrassment as Nancy slammed the door, Donald turned to Roger and his parents. ‘I am so sorry for my daughter’s rudeness. I really don’t know what’s come over her.’

  Vinny was fuming. Not only had his brother Roy turned up at the party two hours later than promised, he also had his Irish tart in tow.

  Watching his mother and aunt fawn all over Colleen, showering her with compliments like they always bloody seemed to, Vinny ordered Roy out into the back garden.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry about not turning up for work last night, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise,’ Roy said, holding his hands face upwards.

  ‘We run a fucking prestigious nightclub, Roy. Not a chip shop,’ Vinny replied cuttingly.

  ‘Yes, I know that. Look, why don’t you take the next couple of nights off, Vin, and let me and Michael hold the reins. It’s ages since you did that, and we all need a break at times. Perhaps we should start a rota?’

  ‘So, why did you take last night off, Roy? You know Saturday is our busiest night,’ Vinny spat.

  Even though he knew his brother wouldn’t be happy with his reply, Roy couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. ‘Because I got engaged.’

  Vinny looked at Roy as though he had completely lost the plot. ‘You did what?’

  ‘I asked Colleen to marry me yesterday, and she said yes.’

  Vinny crouched down and put his head in his hands. Roy had changed so much since he had met Colleen that Vinny knew if Roy married her, he would all but lose his brother for good. Vinny was jealous – not of Roy’s actual relationship, but of the hold that Colleen had over his brother. The reason being, that hold used to belong to him. Even as kids, Roy would always dance to his tune, but since he’d met that Irish slag, he had stopped bloody dancing. Yvonne Summers had once had a hold over him, and Vinny would hate Roy ever to suffer the heartbreak he’d been through. Colleen was just a gold-digger.

  ‘You OK, bruv?’ Roy asked, worriedly.

  Vinny stood up with a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was well aware that Roy was none too keen on his friendship with Ahmed. ‘You treat him more like a brother than you do me these days, and I don’t trust the bastard as far as I can throw him,’ Roy had said in a hissy fit only last week. Well, from now on Vinny would make sure Ahmed spent even more time at the club than he already did. Two could play at Roy’s game.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Nancy was just about to take her tea-break when Rhonda dashed towards her waving her arms like a lunatic. ‘What’s up with you?’ Nancy asked, bemused.

  ‘It’s that Michael! He’s just walked in the shop!’ Rhonda exclaimed, unable to contain her obvious excitement.

  ‘What shop?’ Nancy asked, dumbly.

  ‘This shop, you div! He’s up by the till. I said I was coming to find you.’

  ‘I can’t talk to him now. What am I meant to say? What do you think he wants?’ Nancy asked, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

  ‘He wants you, you daft mare. And you will speak to him. Come on,’ Rhonda said, linking arms with her pal and dragging her towards the till.

  Michael smiled as Nancy walked towards him. ‘No need to be so nervous. I don’t bite,’ he joked.

  ‘What do you want?’ Nancy asked, staring at her sandals. She was far too nervous to look Michael in the eyes.

  ‘I wanted to know if you would be kind enough to accompany me to the pictures tonight?’

  ‘Yeah, ’course she will, won’t you, Nance?’ Rhonda said, nudging her friend who was currently standing there like a stuffed dummy.

  ‘Er, all right then. I’ll meet you at Ilford station at seven, if that’s OK?’ Nancy mumbled.

  Michael grinned. Nancy had been quite shy when he had met her at the fair the other day and seemed even more reserved in her work environment. He hated loud girls, and found Nancy’s obvious awkwardness rather endearing. ‘Sounds perfect. See you at seven then, darling.’

  When Michael strolled out of the shop, Rhonda jumped up and down excitedly. ‘He really likes you, Bren, I can see it in his eyes. I bet you end up marrying him.’

  Vinny smiled as his son fed the ducks the last of the loaf of bread. ‘Shall we have a sandwich ourselves now, boy? Bloody starving, I am.’

  ‘So am I, Dad. Where shall we park our arses?’ Little Vinny said, putting his hands in his trouser pockets as he walked next to his father.

  Vinny chuckled. His son seemed to have a memory like an elephant and remembered
every saying going. Parking one’s arse was one of Vivian’s favourites. ‘Right, let’s sit here, shall we?’

  When his son flopped down on the grass next tohim, Vinny handed him a ham sandwich, then decided to get the little talk out of the way before he ate himself. ‘Now, I don’t want you to think I’m telling you off,boy, because I’m not. Just think of it more as a bit of fatherly advice. I know you was excited yesterdaybecause it was your birthday, but you really can’t go through life punching, kicking and pushing people like you do.’

  ‘But you told me to stick up for myself when I started school. You said if anyone hit me, I was to hit them back,’ Little Vinny reminded his father.

  ‘If somebody hits you, you should hit them back, boy. But, you shouldn’t hit people for no reason. Look at yesterday for instance, when you pushed that little boy and cut his head open. If you behave like that at school, you won’t have many friends, and you’ll get in trouble with the teachers.’

  Used to his father worshipping the ground he walked on, Little Vinny’s lip began to wobble. ‘I didn’t push Jacob. He fell over and cut his head,’ he insisted.

  ‘Do not lie to me, boy. I saw you push him, so did your Uncle Michael.’

  ‘No, I never.’

  Furious at being lied to, Big Vinny grabbed his son roughly by the arm, put him across his knees and gave him a good clump on the backside. ‘Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again, do you hear me?’

  Thrilled by Roy’s engagement, Queenie and Vivian had been busy discussing his forthcoming wedding. Queenie liked Colleen. She was good for her Roy and as a couple they were extremely well-suited.

  ‘Where’s Brenda? Is she talking to you yet?’ Vivian asked. Brenda and her suitcase had turned up on the doorstep at twelve o’clock last night and Queenie had given her daughter a bloody good wallop for worrying the life out of her by coming home so late.

  ‘Nope. Still in her room, the obnoxious little mare. Who the bleedin’ hell is this?’ Queenie looked out of the window to see who was knocking on her door. ‘Oh Jesus, it’s the police. I hope one of the boys haven’t been nicked,’ she said, panicking.

 

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