Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection

by Kimberley Chambers

  ‘Who is he, Mum? We’ll sort it,’ Roy said.

  ‘Well, you ain’t gonna like this but she is up the spout by Mad Freda’s grandson, Dean. She ain’t even with him now, but reckons she was in a relationship with him. He don’t know she’s in the club. Dumped our Bren last month in favour of another girl, apparently.’

  ‘Did he really? Well, me and Vin will have to pay him a little visit, won’t we, bruv?’ Roy said.

  Vinny was deep in thought. Terry Smart hated him with a passion, so did his old bat of a mother. Neither would be happy if he visited young Dean and forced him to make an honest woman out of his sister. That would be the payback of all paybacks.

  ‘I hope you give him a bloody good hiding, boys. She can’t have the baby. Not by a Smart,’ Vivian declared.

  ‘Well, I ain’t having my grandchild aborted,’ Queenie argued, glaring at her sister.

  ‘Bren can’t keep a Smart baby, can she, Vin?’ Roy urged, wishing his brother would have a bit more input into the conversation. Apart from proposing to Colleen, Roy had always been indecisive when making big decisions.

  Vinny smiled. He had heard good things about young Dean Smart. The lad might only be eighteen, but he had recently got away with a robbery at a post office at Stratford, so for someone so young, Dean was obviously no man’s fool. Brenda wasn’t the brightest bird on earth and she could do a lot worse than Dean. Pissing off Terry and Freda in the process was just an added bonus. It was a case of every cloud having a silver lining. ‘I’ll go and speak to young Dean. He’ll stand by our Bren and make an honest woman of her, I’ll make sure of it.’

  Roy was furious. ‘You can’t marry her off to a Smart.’

  Vinny stared at his mother and aunt. There seemed to be no further objections from either of them, so he continued. ‘Oh, yes I can. Our Bren will not darken the name of this family. If she’s old enough to hawk her mutton and get herself in the family way, then she’s old enough to be married. Brenda has made her own bed, and now she can fucking well lie on it.’

  Unaware of the drama unfolding less than five minutes away, Albie was currently enjoying a pint in his old local, the Blind Beggar. The pub hadn’t changed that much since his last visit, and even though there were quite a lot of new faces dotted about, there were still a few of the old regulars too.

  ‘Christ almighty! Albie Butler, I thought that was you. Blimey, it’s been years since I’ve seen you around this neck of the woods. How you doing?’ Big Stan asked, plonking himself on the seat next to Albie.

  Albie put down his Sporting Life. Big Stan only lived five doors away from Queenie, so Albie had no alternative but to tell him about his cancer.

  ‘Crikey, that’s awful, mate. Can they cure it, like?’ Big Stan asked.

  Feeling a tad guilty at Stan’s obvious concern, Albie shook his head. Part of him wished that he hadn’t made up such an awful lie, but now he had told Roy, there was no going back. It had been pure desperation that had forced Albie to invent such a fib in the first place. Pauline had kicked him out, his money was running out fast, so what was a man to do? Also, there wasn’t a day that had gone by since leaving Whitechapel where Albie hadn’t thought of his children. He had missed Michael the most, as he was the one he had been the closest to. He also missed Brenda, being the only girl.

  The only people in his family that Albie still harboured a grudge against were Queenie and that old bat of a sister of hers. Between them, they had slowly pushed him out of the family circle. Then, by bringing the boys up in the way they had, they had created a monstrosity.

  ‘So, where is the cancer, Albie? Has it spread all over, like?’ Big Stan asked, snapping Albie out of his daydream.

  ‘Don’t know yet. It’s in me stomach somewhere and I’ve got to have more tests done next week,’ Albie replied.

  ‘Such a shame, mate. I thought you looked ill when I saw you. Didn’t even recognize you at first.’

  Thinking what a cheerful bastard Stan was, and wishing he would sod off so he could work out the horses for his accumulator, Albie picked up his empty pint glass. ‘I would offer to buy you a drink, mate, but money’s a bit tight at the moment, if you know what I mean? I’ve been that ill, I haven’t grafted for ages.’

  ‘You sit yourself back down, Albie. The drinks are on me, mate. ’Ere, put that in your pocket as well,’ Stan said, chucking a screwed-up five-pound note on the table.

  When Big Stan went up the bar to get the drinks, Albie couldn’t help but smirk. Being on death’s door certainly had its advantages.

  Queenie was mopping the kitchen floor when Michael let himself into her house. All her boys still had their own keys, and came and went as they pleased.

  ‘Hello, son. You spoke to your brothers yet? Have they told you the news?’

  When he shook his head, Queenie made a brew, sat Michael down, then explained all about Brenda’s pregnancy, and what the family had decided to do about it.

  Michael listened attentively, then surprised Queenie by agreeing with Vinny’s idea.

  ‘Well, Roy and Vivvy don’t agree. They both think we shouldn’t have a Smart in the family. Viv even suggested she had an abortion. I won’t allow that, Michael. Whether that child is a Smart or not, it’s still my grandchild.’

  ‘I’ll go with Vinny to speak to Dean Smart. Mum, can I ask you for a favour?’

  ‘Of course. What is it, Michael?’

  ‘I want you to speak to my dad, and permit me to do the same. You don’t have to truly forgive him in your heart, just be polite if you can. He’s a prick, I know that, but whatever he is, he’s still part of me, my brothers and Bren. If he weren’t dying, I wouldn’t ask you to do this for me.’

  Thinking how mature her Michael had become all of a sudden, Queenie gave him a motherly hug. She would do anything to make her boys happy, absolutely anything. ‘All right, we’ll both see the old bastard together and I promise I will be as polite as I can, OK?’

  Michael smiled broadly. ‘Thanks, Mum. You’re a real star.’

  Dean Smart and his pals drank in the Black Horse in the Mile End Road, and when Vinny and Michael Butler walked in, the pub immediately fell so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

  Dean wasn’t a scaredy-cat by any stretch of the imagination, but seeing the menacing look on Vinny and Michael’s faces, he could have kicked himself for ever getting involved with Brenda Butler.

  It was Michael that finally ended the awkward silence. ‘We need a quiet word with you,’ he said, gesticulating towards the door.

  Feeling more nervous than he ever had during the robberies he had pulled off, Dean followed the Butler brothers outside the pub. ‘Look, if this is about Brenda, we finished on good terms. I do have another girlfriend now, but I swear I weren’t seeing her when I was seeing Bren,’ Dean gabbled.

  ‘No! I think you meant to say that you used to have another girlfriend,’ Michael said, pushing Dean against a nearby wall.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry about dating your sister, but I really did like her. I only ended it because I was frightened of your family and my family finding out. I didn’t want it to cause World War Three. I would have stayed with Bren other than that, I swear I would,’ Dean stated.

  ‘Well, that’s nice to hear, isn’t it, Michael?’ Vinny said, grinning at his brother.

  ‘Yep, sure is,’ Michael replied in an equally jovial tone. He was thoroughly enjoying watching Dean Smart squirm. Served the little bastard right for taking such liberties.

  ‘What you doing? I swear I won’t go near Brenda again. On my nan’s life I won’t,’ Dean croaked, when Vinny grabbed him around the neck and began squeezing his windpipe.

  Unable to stop himself from giving Dean the knee of all knees in the bollocks, Vinny said what he had come here to say. ‘You will go near my sister again, boy. Dipping your wick without protection has now mapped your life out for you, unfortunately. I will arrange the wedding a.s.a.p., and you will be a good husband to my sister and an even better father
to your unborn child. Now, do we understand one another?’

  Learning that he was about to become not only a father but also a husband was all too much for young Dean to take in and when Vinny let go of his throat, he slid down the wall and slumped onto the pavement.

  ‘Well, answer my brother, then,’ Michael ordered, giving Dean a sharp kick in the ribs.

  Dean knew when he was beaten. His dad was a wannabe gangster, but had never achieved much in his life, and seeing as he was the only boy in the family, he had no proper back-up. When Vinny grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to his feet again, Dean held his palms upright as if to surrender his fate. ‘I understand, OK?’

  Smirking, Vinny ruffled the boy’s long hair. ‘Sensible lad you are, Dean. Now, let’s have a proper family discussion about the wedding tomorrow, eh? Meet us round my mother’s house about twoish.’

  Wanting to cry, Dean took a deep breath and instead nodded miserably.

  ‘And try and put a smile on your face before you arrive. Our Brenda won’t wanna see you with a face like your cat’s just been run over by a bus,’ Michael added.

  Vinny chuckled. Michael had excelled himself in his eyes today, and he was dead proud of his little brother’s wit and attitude. Vinny unlocked the car door, then took one last look at Dean’s shell-shocked face. ‘Oh, and Dean, I need you to do one more thing for me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Get that fucking hair cut before you meet your future mother-in-law. You wanna make a good impression, don’t you now?’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Brenda was lying in bed feeling dreadfully sorry for herself when her mother traipsed in with a tray. On it was a boiled egg, toast, and a steaming mug of tea. ‘Now, get this down your neck. I’m not having no grandchild of mine being born malnourished.’

  Brenda sat up. ‘I’m not even sure I’m keeping the baby yet, Mum. I don’t think I’m old enough to cope with a kid.’

  ‘If you’re old enough to drop your drawers and get yourself up the duff in the first place, then you’re old enough to be a good mother. And don’t you dare even think about getting rid of that child. The family have made a decision. You’re having it, and that’s that.’

  ‘You haven’t told my brothers, have you?’ Brenda asked, alarmed. She knew they’d been at the house yesterday because she had heard all three of their voices, but she had surmised they were there discussing her father.

  ‘Well, of course I’ve told them. You’ll be as fat as a bull soon. Hardly something we can disguise, is it? You daft apeth.’

  When her daughter leapt out of bed and began to get dressed, Queenie asked her what she was doing.

  ‘Going to see Dean. It’s mine and his baby, and it should be us deciding if we want to keep it, or not.’

  ‘Sit your arse back down, you silly little mare. Vinny and Michael have already spoken to Dean and told him about the baby. He’s coming round here at two, so best you have a wash and smarten yourself up a bit before he arrives.’

  In shock, Brenda almost fell back onto the bed. ‘Why is Dean coming here?’

  ‘To sort out the wedding of course. You, young lady, are getting married.’

  Dean Smart felt like a man on death row who was walking in the direction of the gallows as he trudged dejectedly towards the Butler household. Apart from Brenda, Dean knew none of the family particularly well. Thanks to their notorious reputation, he obviously knew who each of them was, but last night was the first time he had ever really had a conversation with Vinny, or Michael.

  On reaching the pathway that led to the front door, Dean felt physically sick. He had sort of liked Brenda, but not enough to bloody well marry her.

  When the bell rang, Queenie ordered Lenny to answer the door for her. Vinny hadn’t arrived yet, but the rest of the family were all present.

  Brenda couldn’t remember ever feeling more nervous. The palms of her hands were sweaty, her heart was beating rapidly, she hated the outfit that her mother had forced her to wear, and she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with Dean.

  Neither Queenie and Vivian had ever been one to suffer soppy, childish behaviour. ‘Don’t sit there like a bleedin’ lemon then, Bren. Say hello to the boy,’ Queenie barked.

  ‘She obviously weren’t that shy with him before,’ Vivian mumbled.

  ‘Hello, Dean. How are you? Thanks for coming round,’ Brenda gabbled, staring at her hands.

  ‘Jesus Christ! Do excuse my daughter for acting like silly-girl-got-none. Now, what would you like to drink? Cup of tea? Or a beer?’ Queenie asked, smiling at Dean. She and Vivian had had a little chat about the boy’s arrival this morning, and both had agreed if Vinny and Michael thought Dean was good enough to marry Brenda and become part of the Butler clan, then they should make an effort to be nice to him.

  ‘Er, is it OK if I have a beer, please?’ Dean asked. He had noticed Roy drinking one, and hoped it might calm his nerves a bit.

  ‘Have what you like, mate. You’ve already had me sister,’ Roy said, glaring at Dean.

  ‘Now, don’t start performing, Roy. I want this to be a pleasant get-together. Where’s Colleen by the way? I haven’t seen her since you got engaged.’

  ‘At work. I don’t like bringing her here anyway. Vinny obviously doesn’t like her, and we all know what Vinny says goes, don’t we, Mum?’ Roy spat. He was furious that Vinny and Michael had paid Dean a visit and decided his sister’s fate without involving him. It had made him feel like an outcast yet again. He’d felt like that a lot lately, especially when Ahmed was at the club.

  When his aunt handed Dean a beer, Lenny grinned at him. ‘So, when you shagged my cousin, did you plan to get her pregnant?’

  Vivian wanted to laugh and congratulate her son on asking such an awkward question, but instead she pretended to be annoyed. ‘You’ll be going upstairs to wash your mouth out in a minute, young man. Now leave poor Dean alone.’

  Queenie and Vivian then began asking him question after question, and Dean was almost relieved when Vinny turned up with his little boy in tow.

  ‘So, have you told your family about the baby yet, Dean? Bet your nan weren’t too pleased,’ Queenie chuckled.

  ‘Bet his old man weren’t either,’ Vinny said, smirking at his brothers. Terry Smart was a trappy nobody who had got a bit too lippy a year or so back. He had been spouting his mouth off in the Grave Maurice about how the Butlers were no match for some of the other London firms, so Vinny had decided to teach him a lesson with a hammer. Vinny had concentrated just on Terry’s mouth in a bid to teach him to keep it shut in future. It seemed to have worked. Terry couldn’t eat and drank only through a straw for a month after the attack, and had never bad-mouthed the Butlers since.

  ‘To be honest, I haven’t had a chance yet,’ Dean admitted, sheepishly.

  ‘Why don’t you let me tell them for you? I can see you’re dreading it, boy,’ Vinny offered. It wouldn’t just make his day breaking the news of the baby and the forthcoming marriage to Dean’s dad and grandma. It would make his fucking year.

  Remembering the state of his father’s face after his altercation with Vinny Butler, Dean immediately shook his head. ‘No. If I’m gonna be a father, then I should tell them myself. I’m a man now, not a boy.’

  ‘Well, in that case, best you ask my sister to marry you properly then. I take it you haven’t done so yet?’ Vinny asked.

  Debating whether to leg it out of the front door and jump on the first train to a different part of the country, Dean just ended up shaking his head instead.

  Thoroughly enjoying watching Dean squirm, Michael joined in with the fun. ‘Chop, chop then. What you waiting for, Deano?’

  Knowing he had no choice but to propose properly, Dean got down on one knee in front of Brenda and held her trembling hands. ‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, Bren?’

  Brenda looked into Dean’s eyes and could see quite clearly by his horrified expression that he was only asking her to marry him beca
use he was too frightened to stand up to her brothers. Still, she didn’t care. Dean was her first real love and once they had their own house and a baby, he would be tied to her forever. ‘What about your new girlfriend?’ Brenda asked. She was determined to play a bit hard to get even though she was gagging to say yes.

  ‘She’s history. I never wanted to split up with you in the first place, Bren, you know that. I only ended it because I thought it would cause murders if our families found out,’ Dean lied.

  ‘So, what did she say when you finished with her, then?’ Brenda asked, suspiciously.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Bren. The boy will have cramp kneeling down like that if you don’t bloody well answer his question soon,’ Queenie said.

  With all eyes on her, Brenda grinned broadly. ‘Yes, Dean. I will be your wife.’

  An hour later, Dean Smart stood outside the house he shared with his grandma and father. His mum had died while giving birth to him, and so Dean had been raised an only child.

  He let himself into his home with a heavy heart. His nan despised the Butlers so Christ knows what she would make of him impregnating Brenda.

  ‘That you, boy? Do you want a corned beef sandwich? I’m just making your dad one,’ Freda said.

  Thankful that his nan and dad were both at home so he could kill two birds with one stone, Dean asked her to sit down in the lounge.

  ‘You ain’t got yourself bleedin’ nicked, have you?’ Freda asked accusingly.

  ‘Spit it out, then. What you done?’ Terry Smart asked.

  Freda sat on the armchair. She knew neither her son nor grandson were what could be described as life’s role models, but they both had a good heart, and weren’t bloody thugs or murderers like members of a certain family she could mention.

  Dean clasped his quivering hands together, then took a deep breath. ‘Please don’t hate me, but I’ve got a girl pregnant and I’ve agreed to marry her.’

  Freda felt her heart leap with joy. Dean might only be young, but getting hitched and being responsible for a child of his own was exactly what he needed in her opinion. If that didn’t keep him on the straight and narrow, then nothing would.