‘Vin, can we have a quick chat before we order lunch? There’s something important we need to discuss,’ Joanna said.
Vinny smiled. He had only suggested taking Joanna out for lunch to stop her spending the day with Nancy. It really grated on him when Jo and his sister-in-law got together, as he was always paranoid they were discussing him. ‘Fire away, babe.’
‘It’s my dad. He’s up for parole and my mum says he might be free soon. He wants to see me and Molly. Vin, I know you and my dad hate one another, but you must understand how awkward this situation is for me.’
‘So, what you trying to say, Jo? Are you asking for permission so you and Molly can spend time with your old man?’
Not noticing the dangerous glint in Vinny’s eyes, Joanna nodded. ‘Obviously, it would only be minimal contact, Vinny. My loyalties lie with you, you know that. But I was thinking perhaps Molly and I could have lunch or something with my mum and dad once a month? What do you think?’
Vinny smirked, grabbed Joanna’s right hand and twisted it so violently, her wrist very nearly snapped in two. ‘I’ll tell you what I think, shall I? If you ever take my daughter within one hundred yards of that shitcunt of a father of yours, I swear I will kill you.’
Queenie Butler was lounging outside the bungalow at Kings. For the past half an hour, herself and Vivian had amused themselves by ripping the piss out of the notrights next-door-but-one. As per usual, the pervert had his Speedos on, and he and his fat wife were playing some silly game. It was like tennis, but the ball was attached to a pole. ‘Her fucking lils look like they’re going to bounce out that swimming costume. Do you reckon they’re swingers?’ Queenie asked Vivian.
‘What’s a swinger?’
‘Those perverts who try to entice other people into having sex with them. My Vinny told me about them. Said there are some clubs in London now where they all run around showing their meat and two veg and their snatches.’
Vivian burst out laughing. Her and Queenie had only learnt what a snatch was recently, thanks to Little Vinny using the expression. ‘Well, I wouldn’t fancy seeing her snatch, would you?’
Queenie was about to reply when she heard the voices of her grandchildren. Tara was eight now and Tommy three, and Brenda rarely visited them at Kings. ‘Where’s Mummy, love? Who brought you down here?’ Queenie asked. Brenda could not drive, and as far as she was aware Michael and Vinny weren’t due to arrive in Eastbourne any time soon.
‘Mummy’s coming now, and her new boyfriend Scott drove us here. He has a really posh car, Nan. We had the roof down,’ Tara explained.
Queenie looked at Vivian in amazement. She had last spoken to Brenda a few days ago and even though her daughter had sounded full of the joys of spring, there had been no mention of a new man in her life.
Vivian nudged her sister as she spotted Brenda walking towards them with a tall handsome blond chap. ‘Well, I’ll be blowed.’
Michael didn’t exactly expect Peters and Lee to be crooning ‘Welcome Home’ as he strolled through the front door, but neither did he expect his wife to fly at him like a bull in a china shop. ‘What the fuck are you doing? Where are the boys?’ Michael asked, protecting his head from his wife’s punches.
‘The boys are at my mum’s, and I want to know who the slut is, Michael. I know you’re having an affair, so don’t fucking lie to me.’
Michael grabbed his wife’s wrists. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, but could not tell how drunk she was. ‘Look, I’m sorry I got Paul to ring you. I should have called you myself, but I swear I’ve been with my dad. Dorothy is dead, Nance. She died in her sleep.’
‘You’re lying to me, Michael Butler,’ Nancy screamed.
‘No, I’m not, babe. Ring my dad if you don’t believe me. And what do you think I am? As if I would make up a lie as awful as that. Dorothy died on her bloody birthday. The day my dad was due to propose to her. He’s in bits, bless his heart.’
Nancy collapsed to her knees. ‘Oh, that is so sad. Poor Albie. But what about all the other nights you’ve stayed out? I need to know the truth, Michael. I can’t carry on like this.’
Michael sank to his haunches and held his sobbing wife in his arms. His dad’s little speech had given him food for thought. Bella might well be hitched or have children by now. As he had driven back from Ipswich, he had vowed never to let thoughts of Bella torture his mind again.
‘Babe, I’m so sorry I haven’t given you the love and attention I should have just lately. The business has been going down the drain, if you want the truth, and that’s why I’ve been dossing at the club. I’ve been drinking far too much as well, what with the worry of it all, and the last thing I wanted was to come home pissed and burden you with all my problems. I thought it might make you depressed again.’
‘Swear on the boys’ lives there is no other woman,’ Nancy ordered.
Having already decided he was going to end his meaningless affair with the stripper and give his marriage another go, Michael gave his solemn oath. ‘Seeing as the boys are at your mum’s. Let’s go to bed,’ he suggested.
Feeling a mixture of relief and desire, Nancy grabbed her husband by the hand and led him up the stairs.
To say Joanna Preston was in a state of shock was putting it mildly. After nearly breaking her wrist, Vinny had refused to have lunch, dragged their daughter out of the sandpit, then driven her and Molly home in complete silence. He had then driven off like a bat out of hell.
Desperate to share her woes with somebody, Joanna rang Nancy. There was no answer.
When the phone rang seconds later, Joanna thought it was Nancy ringing her back. It wasn’t. It was her mother. ‘Brilliant news, Jo. Dad’s parole hearing is on Wednesday week. His brief rang me today and he said he was ninety-five per cent sure your dad will get parole. I’m so excited. I can’t wait to have him home with me again. Will you and Molly be bridesmaids at the wedding? Have you had a chance to speak to Vinny yet?’
Not wanting to burst her mother’s bubble, Joanna felt she had no option but to lie. If she told her mum that her right wrist was currently double its usual size, that would cause mayhem. ‘I’ve not had the chance to speak to Vinny yet, Mum. He’s got problems at the club, so I’m waiting for the right moment. Sorry to cut you short, but I have to go. Molly’s in the bath, and last time I left her alone there I had loads of mopping up to do. I’m really pleased for Dad though. Give him my love.’
Slamming the phone down, Joanna put her head in her hands. Her dad’s homecoming was going to cause so much aggravation and she didn’t know which way to turn. Vinny was the man she loved, but blood was thicker than water … wasn’t it?
Queenie and Vivian were sitting in the club at Kings. Tara and Tommy were having a ball with the children’s entertainer Charlie Case, so it gave Queenie the chance to study Scott, or Scotty as he preferred to be called.
‘So, what exactly do you do for a living, Scotty?’ Queenie asked politely.
‘I’m a bit of an entrepreneur, Mrs B. I see an opportunity and I take it. Stocks and shares are my current thing. Made a lot of money out of those recently, I have.’
‘Where do you live? Do you own your own property?’ Vivian asked bluntly.
‘Mum, Auntie Viv, will you stop interrogating Scotty. You’ve only just met him. Let’s go up the bar, babe,’ Brenda said, grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.
When Scott and Brenda walked away from the table, Queenie turned to Vivian. Since Brenda had lost weight, had her hair cut short and dyed blonde, she did look good again. However, she did not look good enough to bag a rich, handsome man like Scott. ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘Wouldn’t trust the bastard as far as I could throw him. He won’t look you properly in the eyes,’ Vivian replied.
‘I’m not overly struck either. Bit of a flash Harry, ain’t he? No point saying anything to Silly Lily though. She’s already smitten, I can tell. She ain’t known him five bastard minutes and she’s already staring at him with
those sickly puppy-dog eyes. It’ll be left to me to pick up the pieces when she gets her heart broken again. And she will. You mark my words.’
Little Vinny Butler thought he was about to drop from exhaustion when his hard task master of a father entered the cellar. Even though Little Vinny had felt as rough as a badger’s arse, he had still worked like a Trojan.
Vinny had a quick inspection, then turned to his son. ‘You’ve done a good job, boy. Carry on as hard as you have been working, then after your month’s trial, we’ll have a chat about wages.’
‘Thanks, Dad. Do you forgive me now for taking your gun? I am sorry and I’ll never touch it again, I promise.’
‘Too right you won’t. You’d never fucking find it again to touch it. I’ve made sure of that.’
‘So, am I forgiven?’
Vinny studied his prodigy. All he had ever wanted was to turn his son into a man like himself. Judging by the way the lad had behaved since being expelled from school, Vinny reckoned he’d done the right thing by forcing his son to work at the club.
‘I wouldn’t say you’re forgiven just yet, but you keep out of trouble, and carry on grafting as you have been, I’m sure my mood will soon soften.’
‘Am I allowed out again now? It’s really boring being stuck indoors every night.’
‘Don’t push your luck, boy. You gotta earn your stripes first. Once I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson, then you can go out. I meant what I said about Ben Bloggs, though. The kid’s a div and I don’t want you knocking about with him no more. Find yourself some new pals, ones that have brains preferably, and who aren’t fucking skinheads.’
‘OK.’
Realizing his son looked rather crestfallen, Vinny put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Look, I’ve spent far too much time with Jo and Molly recently, so how about I take you out tonight for a bit of grub? You can choose where we eat and you can even have a couple of halves of lager now you’re a working man.’
‘Will it be just the two of us?’
‘Yep.’
Little Vinny grinned. ‘I’d like that, Dad. I really would.’
Christopher Walker had had a big smile on his face all day. Olivia and his parents had got on really well, and for the first time in his life, Christopher knew what it was like to be in love. It was a wonderful feeling and reminded him of the buzz he had felt when he had first gained promotion to detective sergeant.
The drug squad was the path that Christopher had chosen in his career, and that was how he had met Olivia. Her father was his old boss and he’d introduced them to one another at a party. Like himself, Olivia had never been in a serious relationship before and her dad was over the moon that they were now dating.
When his phone rang, Christopher half expected it to be his mother. He had called her earlier to ask privately what she and Dad had thought of his girlfriend, but she had cut him short. She was waiting for a phonecall from a holiday park to confirm some reservation, and had promised to ring him back.
‘There’s some weird-sounding bloke on the phone, boss. He asked for you in person, says he has some information for you. Shall I put him through?’
Christopher waited for the caller to be connected, then said, ‘DS Walker. How may I help you?’
‘I think it is I who can help you, Christopher.’ Surprised that the caller knew his christian name, Christopher sat bolt upright. ‘Who are you? And what is this about?’
‘I’m an acquaintance of a man I am sure you would very much like to arrest. He is evil, deserves to be behind bars and I have devised a little plan where I aim to hand him to you on a plate. This particular arrest will be a biggie, and you should be able to lock him up for a large part of his sorry life. It will do wonders for your career, trust me on that.’
Instinct told Christopher that this was no crank call, but something about it made him feel extremely edgy. ‘Who is this man you are referring to?’
‘I will not discuss names over the phone. It is more than my life is worth and yours. I will meet you, but you must come alone. You are the only officer I am willing to deal with.’
Deciding to call the anonymous informant’s bluff, Christopher did his utmost to sound cool. ‘I can assure you that nobody bar me is listening to this conversation. And I can also assure you that I will not be travelling alone to meet you unless you give me a name.’
The caller chuckled. ‘Let’s just say it’s a chap who you could have put behind bars when you was a kid. It’s a shame you lied on his behalf, because you could have saved the pair of us all this grief now, couldn’t you? I take it you know who I’m talking about?’
Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Christopher dropped the phone in shock.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘I don’t believe you, Ahmed! I know you want to see that scumbag get his comeuppance – as do I – but not at the risk of our own liberty. You think that policeman of yours is going to be satisfied with arresting Vinny? Once you mention drugs, he’s going to be watching us like a hawk, waiting for a chance to put us away too.’
Seething with anger, Ahmed forced himself to remain calm in the face of his cousin’s insolence. ‘I am disappointed by your lack of faith in me, Burak. Do you seriously think I would be so stupid as to put our necks on the line? The police can watch all they want – once this is done, I won’t be making any more drug deals.’
‘But the drugs are our biggest earner, Ahmed. You think we can live like we do on what the restaurant business brings in?’
‘Money makes money, Burak. I fancy investing some of my millions in building the most upmarket hotel Turkey has ever seen. Have you any idea how much money can be made out of tourism these days? Especially if the clientele are wealthy.’
‘How do you know you can trust the copper that you spoke to? Say he double-crosses you?’ Burak warned.
Ahmed chuckled. Five days had passed since he had rung the police station and he had every intention of making Christopher sweat some more before calling back again. ‘I have the upper hand over our friend DS Walker, and if he tries to double-cross me, he will wish he had never been born.’
Michael Butler put a supportive arm around his father’s hunched shoulders. Dorothy’s funeral had been a small affair with no more than thirty people in attendance, but she’d had a pleasant send-off and Michael had given a lovely speech on his father’s behalf.
‘Come on, Dad. The car’s waiting for us. Dorothy wouldn’t want you hanging about here. She’d want you to go back to the house and toast her memory with a few brandies.’
‘I hate that house now, boy. Everywhere I look I picture her there. I see her in the kitchen, cooking, sitting in her favourite armchair doing her knitting. All her clothes are still in the wardrobe and it breaks my bloody heart,’ Albie wept.
‘Look, I’ll tell you what. We’ll go back to the house and finish giving Dorothy the send-off she deserves, then when I drive back to Barking tomorrow, I want you to come with me. A change of environment will do you good, and it will only be me and you there. Nancy’s going to Kings with the boys at the weekend.’
‘OK, son. And thank you for making the speech and paying for the funeral. You did my wonderful Dorothy proud.’
Queenie and Vivian were in deep discussion as they sat waiting for their washing to finish in the launderette. Almost a week had passed since Brenda had turned up at Kings with her mystery boyfriend and the kids in tow, and there was no sign of them sodding off home.
Like every normal nan, Queenie adored each and every one of her grandchildren. But eight-year-old Tara and three-year-old Tommy were a handful, to say the least. Tara was a child who had tantrums on a regular basis, especially if she didn’t get her own way, and Tommy was as boisterous as Little Vinny had been as a child. The little bastard had even broken her new plant pot yesterday, which had cost her twenty quid. Queenie had been fuming ever since.
‘Gonna say something as soon as I get back, Viv, I am. I mean, it’s bad enough being lum
bered with Bren and the kids without warning, without her bringing Billy Big Bollocks with her an’ all. We don’t even know the geezer, and I can’t empty my bowels knowing he’s sitting outside the khazi listening. Four times I’ve had to walk over to that public toilet just to have a crap.’
‘I agree, it ain’t on, Queen. I had to have a dump in the clubhouse yesterday and you know how I hate having to do number twos in public places. What you gonna say?’
‘Well, Vinny’s bringing Joanna and Molly down at the weekend, so I shall tell ’em we’re short of space and insist they piss off home. What you looking at?’
‘Ray’s outside in his roller. Give us me bag so I can put some lippy on, quick!’ Vivian said impatiently.
Ray King was the owner of the holiday park, and was often seen driving around in his smart Rolls-Royce. A pleasant-natured chap, Ray often stopped to chat to owners and holidaymakers, but cursed his luck when he saw Queenie and Vivian marching towards him. Whenever they accosted him, he could never get away.
‘Cooey, Mr King. Beautiful day, isn’t it? How have you been keeping?’ Vivian asked, in her posh voice.
‘I’m fine thank you, ladies. How about yourselves?’
Now it was Queenie’s turn to put on a posh voice. Some people fondly referred to Ray as Mr Eastbourne, and Queenie wished she had married a man with such a profile instead of that useless drunken tosspot Albie. Queenie would never admit how she felt about the handsome Mr King to anyone, not even to Vivian, but her heart skipped a beat whenever she saw the man.
‘I wanted to ask you something, Mr King. You know you have your initials on your number plates, well I would like my Vinny and Michael to have their initials on theirs. What shop did you buy them in? Was it Halfords?’
When Mr King chuckled as he explained to her that you could not just walk into a shop and buy personalized number plates, Queenie felt such a fool that she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Her cheeks glowing as red as her lipstick, she grabbed her sister by the arm and started to drag her away. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr King. Come on, Vivian, our washing’s ready.’
Payback Page 17
