‘Disco balls, Dad. All the rage now, they are. We don’t have discos as such, but they still set the gaff off when people are dancing. Do you like the new décor?’
Albie nodded. The only thing that he didn’t like was the blown-up framed photo of Roy and Champ that was hung in the reception. He had welled up when he had seen it and still felt upset now. ‘Looks lovely, boy. What sort of entertainment do you have then?’
‘We’ve got a singer on tonight. Good he is, and lots of our punters get up and give a song. You should sing Al Martino, Dad. Got a great voice you have and I love you singing “Spanish Eyes”.’
Albie immediately shook his head. It felt strange being back in Whitechapel after so long, and too many local people knew about his cancer lie for him to get on stage. He could just imagine being pelted with eggs and rotten tomatoes.
Guessing what his father was worried about, Michael did his best to reassure him. ‘No one will say anything to you, Dad, and if they do, they’ll have me to fucking answer to. That cancer story is old news now, so hold your head high. If anybody says one bad word to you, I want you to tell me, OK? Because if they disrespect you, they’re dis-respecting me as well, and no fucker mugs me off in my own club.’
Pretending he had cancer years ago had been a stupid thing to do, and Albie had rarely set foot in Whitechapel since. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for a night out, boy. I’d rather just go back to the house.’
Michael squeezed his father’s hand. ‘Look, I’ll make a deal with you. You spend tonight and tomorrow night at the club with me, then next weekend we’ll shoot down to Kings and spend some time with the boys, eh? What do ya say?’
Albie forced a smile. ‘I would like to spend some time with the boys.’
‘Right, now that’s sorted, I’m gonna pour us another drink.’
When his son walked up to the bar, Albie thought of Dorothy. Hi-de-Hi!, Family Fortunes and Play Your Cards Right had been Dorothy’s favourite TV programmes, and even though Albie used to joke with her that she only watched old crap, he would give anything to be sitting at home holding her hand and watching any of those programmes with her now, absolutely anything.
‘Daddy, can you sing me the rabbit song again please?’ Molly asked, as she took another lick of her ice cream.
Joanna chuckled. Queenie and Vivian had taught Molly the words to the old war song ‘Run Rabbit Run’ yesterday and Molly would not stop singing it. ‘Stop driving Daddy mad, Molly. He’s only just arrived.’
Vinny grinned, sung the words to ‘Run Rabbit Run’ once again, then as soon as Molly had finished her ice cream, lifted her up above his head.
‘Mind she’s not sick, Vinny,’ Joanna warned. She loved family moments like this, and had been thrilled when Vinny surprised her by turning up unannounced earlier.
‘Run rabbit, run rabbit, run run run,’ Vinny sang.
Molly loved her father. He always brought her lovely presents and made her giggle. ‘Can you buy me a rabbit, Daddy?’
‘Rabbits are naff pets. All they do is sit in a hutch all day and eat lettuce. Dogs are much better. One day when you’re older, I’ll buy you a little puppy.’
‘Don’t be putting ideas into her head, Vinny,’ Joanna warned. She knew what Molly was like. Very intelligent for her age and once she got a bee in her bonnet she would keep on about it.
‘Can I call the puppy Fred, Dad?’
Vinny grinned at Joanna. ‘She’s old before her time this one. Loves a war song and where did she get the name Fred from?’
Joanna laughed. ‘I have no idea, Vin. She doesn’t even know anybody called Fred. It might be because she overheard Queenie and Viv mentioning Freddie Starr. He’s in the upstairs club tonight.’
‘I want to go swimming now,’ Molly announced.
‘I’ll take her, Jo. You stay here with the stuff.’
Joanna smiled as Vinny gently lifted Molly into the children’s pool. She looked so cute with her pink swimsuit and armbands. Her blonde curly hair was even lighter than usual due to the sun and she really did look like a little princess.
‘You all right, Jo?’ young Billy asked, sitting down on Vinny’s sunbed.
Joanna immediately felt panicky. ‘You better not sit there, Bill. That’s my fella’s sunbed and he gets a bit funny.’
Billy was only eighteen and was on his first ever lad’s holiday. He and his pals were staying in a caravan and having a whale of a time. ‘I’ll move as soon as your bloke comes back – and remind me to give you my phone number before I go home in case you ever want to leave him,’ Billy joked.
‘Where are your friends?’ Joanna asked, nervously glancing around to see if Vinny had clocked her and Billy talking.
‘Playing pool in the club, the boring gits. Where’s your mate, Nancy? My pal Ian, the tall blond-haired one, proper fancies her. I don’t, I fancy you,’ Billy chuckled.
Realizing that Billy sounded tipsy and had more than likely been on the lager all day, Jo stood up to get away from him, but as she saw Vinny marching towards her with a tearful Molly in his arms and a face like thunder, she knew she should have moved sooner. ‘I was just coming over to the swimming pool, Vin.’
‘Who is that cunt? And what’s he doing on my sunbed?’ Vinny asked, none too quietly.
Aware that people on nearby sunbeds were now looking their way, Jo did her best to try to defuse the situation. ‘Billy’s on holiday with his friends, Vinny. He has a girlfriend back home and was telling me and Nancy only yesterday how much he missed her, wasn’t you, Bill?’ Jo said, praying that Billy wasn’t too drunk to sense the danger he was in.
Unfortunately for Jo, Billy was too drunk. He grinned at Vinny. ‘Yeah, I have a bird back home in South London. She ain’t as hot as your missus though, so if you ever wanna do a swap, let me know.’
To say Vinny was furious was putting it mildly. He wanted to smash the living daylights out of the cocky little bastard there and then, but knew he could do no such thing in front of his daughter and tons of sunbathers in broad daylight. He would find out where the little shit was staying though, and when he did, he’d give him the hiding of a lifetime. ‘Pick your stuff up now. We’re going,’ he spat at Jo.
When Vinny stomped off with their sobbing daughter in his arms, Joanna quickly shoved her towel, book and suntan lotion into her bag and chased after him. ‘Billy’s just a kid, Vinny. He was only joking, he didn’t mean no harm.’
Vinny looked at his partner with pure hatred on his face. ‘So this is what you and that slut Nancy get up to when me and Michael aren’t about, is it? Do you lounge around chatting up young fucking geezers all day while we’re working our bollocks off to pay for the privilege?’
‘Don’t be daft, Vinny. You’re over-reacting. Nancy and myself would never act in such a way, and deep down you know it.’
‘It’s that fucking blonde hair of yours that attracts these cunts, I’m telling ya. How many rows have we had in the past over geezers chatting you up, eh? And how many times have I asked you to become a brunette? Why can’t you just play ball with me and do something I ask, eh? I treat you well enough, don’t I?’
‘Stop it, Mummy. Stop it, Daddy,’ Molly begged.
Desperate to pacify Vinny and prevent him upsetting their daughter any more, Joanna decided to agree with him. Vinny had often told her that her hair was a similar style and colour to his first love Yvonne Summers, and Joanna had privately wondered if that was the reason for their lack of intimacy. ‘I think you are right, Vin. It is my blonde hair that attracts these chancers. I actually fancy a change now, so how about I book an appointment with that good Italian hairdresser as soon as I get back to London?’
Vinny Butler was a man who liked to get his own way and Joanna’s willingness to comply with his rules immediately took the sting out of his temper. ‘OK, babe. I’d like that.’
Little Vinny and Ben Bloggs got off the train at Dagenham East, then followed the directions that Danno and Tim had given them. They found Ib
scott Close easily, and hearing Bad Manners’ ‘Lip Up Fatty’ blaring out, they followed the music.
An hour later, Little Vinny was pissed, stoned and jumping up and down to the Specials’ ‘A Message to You, Rudy’ when his pork-pie hat flew off.
‘You need a haircut, Vin,’ Danno said, rubbing his hand over Little Vinny’s overgrown skinhead.
‘I’ve been so busy working, I’ve not had time to get to the barbers,’ Little Vinny lied. He could hardly say that his arsehole of a father had forbidden him to get it cut again. That would make him look like a right wally.
‘I’ll do it for you. I cut me own and I’ve got clippers upstairs.’
Little Vinny glanced around. Even the girls at the party had shorter hair than him, apart from their long fringes. ‘OK, then. Cut it for me now.’
Desperate to get a good view of Freddie Starr, Queenie and Vivian decided to skip bingo, get glammed up to the nines, and go straight to the upstairs club to grab a good table. ‘I love that green dress on you, Viv. Is that the one you bought down the Roman?’
‘Yeah. Fits nice, don’t it? Couldn’t wear me gold with it though as it would have clashed with the silver neck. Bought this necklace and bracelet when I popped down there to get our pie and mash last week. I’ll only wear it with this though, I feel lost without me gold.’
Queenie nodded in agreement. Over the years, both she and Vivian had accumulated quite a collection of gold jewellery. They had everything from sovereign earrings and necklaces to ingots and gate bracelets. Every birthday and Christmas the boys would buy them more, and Queenie knew they were the envy of all their neighbours.
‘Ooh, my Vinny’s just walked in,’ Queenie said, standing up to wave at her son. ‘Viv, don’t say nothing yet about Scotty. If we mention he might be Old Bill, Vinny will kill him and I don’t want a creation down here. I’ll have a word with Vinny on the quiet.’
Vinny bought his mum and aunt a sherry each, and himself a large Scotch. ‘Don’t mind me joining yous tonight, do you? Nancy’s mother is on holiday here apparently, and I didn’t fancy sitting downstairs with her. Jo and Nancy seemed to be joined at the hip lately, don’t they?’
‘Aw, it’s nice they get along, Vin. Can’t believe Nancy’s mother is here though. Not seen that old cow since she had that café near us. Is she staying in Michael’s bungalow?’ Vivian asked.
‘No. She’s got her own chalet.’
‘Bet she was too frightened to stop opposite us. Last time I saw her was when I was battering that sour-faced husband of hers over the head with my umbrella. We must have a drink downstairs after we’ve seen Freddie, Queen. I want to see the look on Mary from the dairy’s face when she spots us. Bet she won’t look us in the eye,’ Vivian said, chuckling at her own wit. ‘Mary from the Dairy’ was an old Max Miller song.
‘We will be nosy, but we can’t be too nasty, Viv. It is Nancy’s mother,’ Queenie said.
‘Changed, this family has, over the years. Time was, we always stood our ground – and look at us now,’ Vivian replied bitterly.
‘What you going on about?’ Vinny asked his aunt.
‘Your sister is down ’ere too with her new fella, Billy Big Bollocks. Spoke to me and your mother like a piece of shit earlier, didn’t she, Queen?’
‘I didn’t even know Bren had a new bloke. I wish she would fucking let me know these things. The geezer could be undercover Old Bill for all we know,’ Vinny said, his temper rising to the surface once more.
Queenie glared at her sister. It was a silent warning for her to shut the fuck up. ‘It’s not your sister your aunt’s upset about, love. We had a chat earlier this week and we’re both very disappointed that that Turkish bastard is still breathing. He killed your cousin, Vin – surely that means something in our world? Ahmed needs to be dealt with, as soon as possible. And while we’re on the subject, Joanna let slip that her scumbag of a father was up for parole. I expect him to be dealt with as well, Vinny. We can’t have him walking the streets, enjoying life after what he did to Roy, can we now?’
Suddenly wishing he was back in bed with the bird from last night rather than in Eastbourne, Vinny nodded his head. Ahmed had done sod all wrong, but Johnny Preston would have to be dealt with at some point.
‘All will be sorted, Mum, when the time is right. I can’t do anything rash though, because of Molly. Little Vinny can look after himself, but my daughter needs me. No way am I chancing getting banged up for murder and leaving her.’
Little Vinny had never been very popular with boys or girls. Apart from Ben, he had no friends, and apart from Ben’s mother, no female had ever made a move on him. Tonight though, his luck seemed to have changed. Not only had he integrated well with Danno, Tim and his pals, he now had a nice-looking bird staring at him.
‘She well fancies you, Vin. Go and talk to her and see if you can fix me up with her mate,’ Ben urged.
Little Vinny stared back at the girl. She had her head shaved, but the back and fringe were long. She wore lots of earrings, had a big tattoo on her forearm and was dressed in the style of a proper skinhead bird. When she smiled at him, Vinny quickly looked away. She had a really pretty face, a cute slightly turned up button nose, and was making his stomach feel funny. ‘She’s beautiful, Ben, but I can’t talk to her. I dunno what to say.’
Ben nudged his pal. ‘Well, you better think of something quick. Her and her mate are walking towards us.’
When the record changed to Janet Kay’s ‘Silly Games’, not knowing what else to say, Vinny asked the obvious. ‘Wanna dance?’
Still unable to stop thinking about the bird he had met the previous evening, Vinny had been knocking back the Scotch far quicker than he usually did, and by the time Freddie Starr walked off stage, he was merry to say the least. ‘Best I go downstairs in a bit and check on Molly. Caught her mother flirting with some young lad around the swimming pool today. Thought yous two were meant to be keeping an eye on Jo while I weren’t here?’
‘Oh, don’t talk bollocks, Vinny. Jo’s not like that, she’s a good girl. I think we’ll come downstairs too,’ Queenie said, nudging her sister. She knew her son better than anyone, and was very aware of the dangerous glint in his eyes.
‘Let’s see if we can get backstage and meet Freddie first, Queen. Bleedin’ handsome, he is.’
‘No, Viv! You made a right show of me when you tried to get hold of Des O’Connor and snog him when you were pissed, and you ain’t embarrassing me again. We’re going downstairs, now!’
Mary Walker had had a wonderful evening. The Mr and Mrs competition had been hysterical, the resident band had played some wonderful catchy songs from the seventies, such as Tony Orlando and Dawn’s ‘Knock Three Times’ and Sylvia’s ‘Viva España’, and her grandsons, daughter, Joanna and Molly had been wonderful company.
‘Would you like another drink, Mary? It’s been such a nice evening, I think we should all have one for the road,’ Joanna suggested.
Mary nodded, then smiled. How that awful Vinny Butler had ever attracted such a lovely girl as Joanna she would never know. And how his sperm had ever produced such a beautiful child as Molly was even more of a mystery.
When Joanna went up to the bar, both Mary and Nancy were stunned to see a drunken-looking Brenda plonk herself on Jo’s chair. ‘Not good enough for you, are we, me and my family? Meet my new man, Scotty. Been sitting four tables behind you all night, we have, and I can tell you’ve been blanking us.’
Apart from when they had first met at school, Nancy had never really liked Brenda. However, she was Michael’s sister and for that reason alone, Nancy had always done her best to be polite. ‘I would never blank you, Brenda. Where are Tara and Tommy? Jo and I had no idea you were here, I swear we didn’t,’ Nancy said honestly.
Sensing trouble on the horizon, Mary nudged her daughter. ‘The boys are tired now, love. Shall I take them back to my chalet? It’s only a spit’s throw away and I’m yawning myself.’
‘Yeah, OK, Mum. They ha
te that long walk back to our bungalow at night. Michael couldn’t have chosen one further away from the club.’
‘Hello, Brenda. I never knew you were here,’ Joanna said, as she put the tray of drinks on the table.
Desperate not to be in Brenda’s company for one minute longer, Mary stood up and told Joanna she could have her chair.
‘So, what do you think of my Scotty? Far more handsome than that lanky streak of piss I married, isn’t he?’
Knowing how jealous and possessive Brenda could be over her men, rather than reply to her sister-in-law’s question, Nancy grabbed Joanna’s hand. Chris Gentry the DJ had just kicked off with Odyssey’s latest chart hit ‘Use It Up and Wear It Out’. ‘Let’s have a dance, I love this song. You coming, Bren?’
‘I am, Auntie Nancy,’ Molly said excitedly. She loved to dance and always got lots of attention when she did so.
When the record changed to Tom Browne’s ‘Funkin’ for Jamaica’ Joanna leaned towards Nancy. ‘Not only are we lumbered with Brenda, that bloody Billy and his mates have just walked in. I hope they don’t start pestering us again. Vinny will go mad if he sees them talking to us. I thought he was going to punch Billy’s lights out earlier.’
‘Shit, they’ve spotted us,’ Nancy informed Jo.
‘All right, ladies? Best-looking birds we’ve seen at Kings, yous two are,’ Billy slurred, grinning at Joanna while trying to pull off some John Travolta moves.
‘Let’s go and sit back at the table,’ Joanna said to Nancy. Billy and his pals were very drunk and could barely stand up, and she was petrified that Vinny would walk in and it would all kick off.
‘Put her down, Billy,’ Nancy ordered, when Billy picked up Molly and started swinging her around in the air.
The timing could not have been worse for Billy to lose his footing. Vinny walked in just in time to see his daughter hit the floor. ‘Don’t hit him in here, Vinny. You’ll get us barred,’ Queenie yelled, chasing after her son.
Vinny’s first concern was for his daughter. He ran onto the dancefloor and scooped Molly into his arms. ‘You OK, sweetheart? Daddy’s here now to look after you.’
Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection Page 67
