Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection

by Kimberley Chambers

  ‘Hello, love. How was your day at work? I’ve saved you some toad in the hole. Shall I warm it up for you now?’ Mary asked her daughter.

  ‘No, I’ll have it later, and work was fine, thanks. Erm, you don’t mind if I sleep over my friend’s house next Tuesday evening, do you? It’s her eighteenth birthday and her parents are organizing a little get-together for her.’

  ‘And what friend is this, may I ask?’ Donald enquired, casting his beady eyes on his daughter.

  ‘Katie. She hasn’t been working at Woolies long. But she is so lovely, and we get on really well,’ Nancy lied.

  ‘I’ve never heard you mention a Katie before,’ Christopher remarked accusingly.

  ‘Well, seeing as this past year or so you’ve turned into an irritable little shit, why would I tell you anything about my life?’ Nancy demanded, her eyes blazing with anger.

  Mary immediately tried to defuse the situation. ‘Now, can we talk sensibly for once, please? Let’s not all start arguing.’

  Donald glared at Nancy. ‘You are getting far too big for your boots just lately, young lady. You do not swear at your brother like that, so apologize to Christopher at once. And you can make more of an effort to be polite to poor Roger in future as well. So rude to him you were again yesterday evening, I barely knew where to look. Right, the answer to your question, you can go to your friend Katie’s birthday gathering, but you’re not staying at her house all night. I want you home here by midnight at the latest.’

  Since Michael had suggested them spending the night together in a hotel room, Nancy had thought of little else. She had been in a delirious trance at work all afternoon, and her friend Rhonda had been just as excited about Michael’s idea as she was. There was no way she would allow her father to spoil her big date. Michael would see her as some silly child if she had to be home by midnight. ‘I am nearly seventeen years old, Dad, not seven, and if I want to stay over at a friend’s house, then I shall.’

  Hating being defied, Donald jumped from his chair and wagged a stern finger in his daughter’s face. ‘I know full well that you aren’t planning on staying at a friend’s house, Nancy. You have a young fancy-man and I will not permit you to indulge in debauchery of any kind. Do you hear me?’

  ‘You calling me a slag?’ Nancy screamed.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, you two. I’ve been run off my feet all day in the shop and I now need to relax. A slanging match is the last thing I bloody well need. Now, you go and warm that dinner up, Nancy, and you sit back down and watch the TV, Donald,’ Mary ordered.

  When Nancy stomped out into the kitchen, Donald’s face was red with temper. ‘My daughter will not become a whore, Mary. I will not allow it. She stays at home next Tuesday night, and that’s final.’

  Albie sat in silence as Roy drove him back to his bedsit. It had been great to see his family again, but it had also been awkward, upsetting and had dredged up many bad memories. Albie was no drunk when he had first met Queenie. He had been a vibrant, handsome young man who was full of laughter, self-confidence and could have taken his pick of any woman he wanted. It had been Queenie who had chased him. Oh yes, she had trapped him all right, and had then discarded him like a dirty piece of old rag when he’d served his purpose. Even their Brenda’s conception had been a complete fluke. Queenie had allowed him one fumble for the first time in nearly a year, and Brenda had been the outcome of it.

  ‘You OK, Dad?’ Roy asked.

  ‘Yep, as good as can be expected, boy. I enjoyed your mum’s stew. The only decent meal I’ve had in months, that was.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll be invited round for another meal. Look, I know things were a bit stifled tonight, but it will get better given time, you know. And don’t take no notice of Little Vinny’s rudeness. He’s like that with most people he meets and needs a good right-hander if you ask me. Vinny and Mum have spoilt him something rotten.’

  Albie nodded understandingly. The grandchild had given him a terrible time. ‘So, when will I see yous all again?’ he asked, when Roy brought the car to a halt.

  Feeling dreadfully sorry for his disconsolate-looking father, Roy pulled a wad of money out of his pocket. ‘Here, that should see you all right for a while.’ He peeled off fifty quid.

  ‘Thanks, Roy,’ Albie said gratefully.

  ‘Dad, if I ask you something, will you give me an honest answer?’

  ‘Yes, son.’

  ‘What happened to that Judy Preston? Did she keep your kid?’ Roy asked. It had been Vinny who had persuaded him to raise the question.

  ‘I have no idea. Never seen, spoken, or heard a word from or about Judy since I was in hospital that time when your brother broke my legs.’

  Satisfied that his father was telling the truth, Roy nodded. ‘Go on, you get off and I’ll see you again real soon. Look after yourself, Dad.’

  ‘When will I see you?’ Albie asked for the second time.

  Roy winked. ‘You leave it with me and Michael and we’ll sort something out. I know where to find you. I’ll either come here, or pop in the Blind Beggar.’

  ‘Well, don’t leave it too long in case I’m brown bread,’ Albie muttered morosely, as he shut the car door.

  When Roy drove away, Albie took the five ten-pound notes out of his pocket and grinned. Tonight might not have been perfect, but he now had his beer money for the foreseeable future, so it was definitely a step in the right direction. It was the years of heavy drinking that had made Albie lose weight and look so ill. As for his hair thinning rapidly, that happened to most blokes over fifty, didn’t it? The breathlessness was down to his chain smoking, and all Albie had to do now was continue his little lie until he had won his children over. He would then pretend his cancer was in remission and they would all live happily ever after.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Johnny Preston watched the comings and goings at the club with interest. He and Graeme wanted to get a rough idea of Vinny’s movements before they finalized their plan, which was why they were parked up in a red Transit van with false number plates. Johnny had made the mistake of being ill-prepared the last time he had stalked Vinny and was determined not to make the same mistake twice.

  ‘Rumour has it that our mate Vinny has a lucrative little sideline in the drug business now, you know. Him and some Turkish geezer are meant to be the two Mr Bigs behind most of the substances being punted around London. Don’t know how true it is, or if his brothers know about it, but I heard it from a good source,’ Graeme informed his friend.

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. Who told you?’ Johnny asked.

  ‘Ronny Mitchell told Gerry when he was pissed in the Flag. You know how Gerry can’t keep a secret, don’t ya? Told me the following day, he did.’

  Johnny smirked and then slid down in his seat. ‘Get your head down, Grae, he’s just pulled up again. That’s the divvy cousin with him this time, ain’t it?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know what the divvy cousin looks like now. Big lump, whoever it is. He’s got a bird with him as well, and a kid.’

  Johnny peeped over the dashboard. ‘That has to be his kid. I dunno who the tart is though. I was always under the impression he was shafting his own mother.’

  Graeme chuckled. ‘He’s gone inside now. Do you want to wait for a bit longer to see if he leaves? Or, shall we go and grab some lunch?’

  ‘I don’t think we should hang about here any more in the day. We need to start watching his movements of a night. Obviously Friday and Saturdays are a no-go because he probably don’t leave the club. Not only that, it will be heaving with punters and far too risky anyway. I reckon we should keep watch every night from tonight onwards, and the first moment that presents itself, I will shoot the cunt straight through the skull.’

  When Vinny had finished showing her the ropes, Karen grinned enthusiastically. The club’s décor was truly spectacular. The chairs and sofas were bright red leather, the ceiling a maze of spotlights. There was even a VIP section which was as opulent as anythi
ng Karen had ever seen. It was certainly a far cry away from the dirty, drab-looking pub she had recently been working in in Dagenham.

  ‘What do you think of this?’ Vinny asked, flicking a switch.

  Karen gasped and clapped her hands together excitedly. The spotlights had different coloured bulbs inside them and rotated in the ceiling to form the most incredible pattern on the dancefloor. ‘Wow! That is fabulous, Vinny. In fact, I think the whole club looks amazing. You and your brothers must be so proud of owning a place like this! It reminds me of one of those clubs in an American film.’

  Vinny grinned. He had based the décor of his club on one that he had seen in an American gangster movie. He had even added to the effect by placing portraits of legendary mafia members, famous American film stars, and jazz musicians around the walls. ‘I’m glad you like it, Kaz. Means a lot to me, that does.’

  Karen didn’t want to feel the way she did about Vinny, but spending time with him as part of a family had made all her old feelings resurface. She had seen a much softer side to him as a dad, and as a person, and knew she was falling in love with him all over again.

  Aware that Karen was looking at him with a drippy lovesick expression, Vinny was relieved by Lenny’s re-appearance.

  ‘I’ve swept out the front like you asked me too. Will you show me the disco equipment now? I need to get some practice.’

  ‘Yep. Follow me, Champ.’

  Creatures of habit, both Queenie and Vivian were scrubbing their doorsteps when Michael pulled up in the car.

  ‘Auntie Viv. I’ve got a bit of news about Bill’s murder for you,’ Michael said.

  Vivian dropped her scrubbing brush in the bucket and followed Michael inside Queenie’s house. ‘Don’t tell me the old fucker woke up at the mortuary,’ she joked.

  Michael chuckled. ‘No, but they have charged someone with his murder and are ready to release his body now. His funeral is to be held at the City of London Crematorium at 2 p.m. next Wednesday. I thought I’d better tell you because Champ has been banging on about going to it. Reckons he wants to say a proper goodbye to his dad.’

  Vivian pursed her thin lips. ‘Well, he can want on, I’m afraid. Over my dead body will I allow my Lenny to attend that bastard’s funeral. Glad he is being cremated though. As the old saying goes, you bury treasure and burn rubbish.’

  Unable to concentrate on work, Nancy had been like a cat on a hot tin roof all day. Her father hadn’t spoken to her since their argument at the weekend, and Nancy now knew that the only way she would be able to stay out with Michael was by pretending she was coming home straight from work on Tuesday.

  ‘So, what you wearing? Show me,’ Rhonda Gibbs said, grabbing her pal’s arm as they took their tea-break together.

  Nancy led her friend out the back. She knew to avoid suspicion she would have to bring her belongings into work in dribs and drabs. ‘I hope it isn’t creased. I’m wearing this tomorrow night. What do you think?’

  When Nancy pulled the chiffon black and white polka-dot catsuit out of a carrier bag, Rhonda gasped. ‘Oh Nance. It’s beautiful. Do you think you will end up sleeping with him?’

  ‘No, I won’t! I don’t want him to think I’m some slag. I wish you and Kevin could have hit it off. I wouldn’t be so nervous if all four of us were going to the hotel.’

  Rhonda smiled, but said nothing. She had kissed Michael’s best friend on the night they had met at the fairground, but she hadn’t wanted to take the relationship any further. Kevin was sweet, but Rhonda knew that her dad would have murdered her if he found out she was dating a mixed-race lad. ‘You won’t be nervous when you get there. Have a couple of Cinzano and lemonades. That will take the edge off a bit. I’m dreading your mum or dad ringing my house, Nance. I hope I don’t put my foot in it.’

  ‘’Course you won’t! Just say what I told you to say. I have gone to Katie’s birthday bash and will be home Wednesday teatime, OK? They can’t call you a liar as well, Rhon. Anyway, I am only lying to them because my dad is so bloody unreasonable. I’m sick of him treating me like a child and I’m not putting up with it any more.’

  ‘But say your dad kicks you out or something?’

  Nancy shook her head confidently. ‘No way could he ever kick me out. My mum would never allow it.’

  Unaware that he had a spectator, Michael was eating fish and chips and sharing a bottle of cider in the park with Nancy.

  Vinny studied the two lovesick fools through his binoculars. The bird was stunning, looked like a model, but tarts like that were trouble. Yvonne Summers had been a beauty, and look how that slag had treated him. Vinny could barely remember what Nancy looked like as a child, so had no idea whether this was her or not. What he did know was that she worked at Woolworth’s, and his soppy brother looked absolutely smitten with her.

  When Michael began kissing her passionately, Vinny immediately felt queasy and put down his binoculars. He hated kissing. Mouth-to-mouth contact was far too personal for his liking.

  Vinny left it a few minutes, picked his binoculars up again, and was pleased to see Michael and the bird were walking back towards his car. Hopefully time to find out where the bitch lived now. Then, if she was Nancy Walker, he would have to work out what to do next.

  ‘Eat something then, boy. I know you’re worried about your father, but he’s probably just gone on one of his benders like he always does when the going gets tough. You know what he’s like.’

  Dean put down his knife and fork and puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. His dad hadn’t been seen since the day Dean had told him about his relationship with Brenda, and Dean was desperate to speak to him to try and smooth things out a bit. Obviously, his father wasn’t going to be happy about the situation whatever he said, but if his nan could see a light at the end of the tunnel, then why couldn’t his old man do the same? Surprisingly, Freda had managed to get her head around her grandson’s predicament. Obviously, she was still appalled that the Smarts and Butlers would soon be joined in matrimony, but she was willing to overlook who the mother of her first great-grandchild was, because she was determined to be a good nan herself. At least the child’s surname would be Smart and that alone was a consolation. ‘I’m gonna have to go and find him, Nan. He’s clearly still got the right hump, and this needs to be sorted out.’

  ‘Don’t be going confronting him in a pub, Deano. Wait till he comes home and sobers up, eh?’

  ‘But, he’s always bastard-well pissed lately, Nan, and he ain’t been coming home. I know you’re worried about him too, and seeing as this is all my fault, it’s my duty to make things right.’

  Freda grabbed hold of her grandson’s arm. ‘Let me go and find him. He’s probably in the Grave Maurice, or the Prince Regent in Salmon Lane.’

  Dean gently removed his nan’s hand. ‘No. This is my mess and I am quite capable of sorting it out myself.’

  Even though she was close to all three of her boys, Queenie Butler now saw far less of Roy than the other two. Since he had met Colleen, any spare time Roy had he liked to spend with her, so it had been a nice surprise when he turned up on his own today. ‘Want some spotted dick with syrup, boy? I’ve only just steamed it.’

  ‘No thanks, Mum. I’d love a cup of tea though. Where’s Vinny and Brenda? Champ’s still at the club with Michael. Doing OK he is, you know.’

  Queenie chuckled. ‘I knew he’d be an asset to yous boys. Vivvy’s knackered, Roy, gone indoors for a lie-down she has, and Brenda has popped out with Susan. Never seen your sister so happy before. Perhaps having a sprog and getting hitched is all she ever wanted in life.’

  ‘Well, I hope it works out between her and Dean for all our sakes. Actually, it was my wedding that I came here to talk to you about. Neither me nor Colleen want to rush into things, but I would like to organize a surprise engagement party for her in the near future and wondered if you would help me? I was thinking of arranging it on the weekend that Colleen’s birthday falls at the end of August. I want to get all her
family over from Ireland for it, and I was hoping you would do all the ringing around for me. You know how crap I am on the old rag and bone.’

  Queenie’s heart lurched. If Roy was planning a big event where he was going to surprise Colleen by inviting all her family, then he wasn’t going to be too thrilled with Vinny’s bright idea of holding a joint engagement party as early as next week.

  Vinny Butler was a very private man; therefore when he did participate in the occasional sexual encounter, he told nobody, and would rather pay for it than have any emotional involvement whatsoever.

  Soho was Vinny’s preferred destination. He had found a tasteful, discreet whorehouse there, with a quiet little bar nearby.

  ‘Another large Scotch, Sir?’ the barmaid asked.

  Vinny nodded. He had earlier followed Michael’s girlfriend back to what looked like a newsagent’s or general store, but the shop had been closed and the girl had then used a side door. Vinny had managed to get a closer look at her as she had entered the building, and he had a strong feeling that she was in fact Nancy Walker. The shop must belong to her parents, and he would find out for sure tomorrow when he paid another visit to see who was running it. He would recognize that pretentious bastard Donald in an instant.

  ‘Would you like another?’ the barmaid asked again a couple of minutes later.

  Slamming the glass on the bar, Vinny shook his head. He was stressed out, angry, and the quicker he released his pent-up frustration on whatever slag took his fancy, the better.

  Dean Smart felt the atmosphere in the Grave Maurice change as soon as he walked in. His father was standing with the usual half a dozen cronies he drank with, and when a few of them spotted his presence, there was a deathly silence. ‘Dad, can I have a word with you in private, please?’ Dean asked, politely.

  Terry Smart was extremely drunk. He was also very aware that the pals he was currently standing with were the same mates he had been drinking with the day Vinny Butler had strolled in the pub, dragged him outside, then smashed his boat race to smithereens. Desperate to save face, Terry picked up his pint glass, and lunged at his only son. ‘You Judas little cunt. You’re no son of mine.’