Читать книгу: «Payback», страница 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Queenie put her coat on over her nightdress. It was the middle of the night, but she had to check on Vivvy. Sleep was out of the question until she’d put her mind at rest.

Vinny had organized a locksmith to mend the lock and remove the chain from Vivian’s door, so Queenie was able to let herself in with her own key. She poked her head around Viv’s bedroom door and was alarmed to see the bed empty. ‘Vivvy, where are you?’

The answer to Queenie’s question came when she opened Lenny’s bedroom door. Her sister was laid out like a starfish, face down, on the centre of his bed.

‘Vivvy? Wake up, sweetheart.’

After a couple of minutes of prodding and poking, Queenie tried to move her sister. It was then she saw the empty tablet container. Panic-stricken, she let out a deafening scream.

Vinny Butler woke up at midday with the headache from hell. The phone had been ringing all morning, but he had felt incapable of lifting his bonce off the pillow.

Picking up an empty glass, he filled it with water and downed it in one. Since Lenny and Roy’s death, he had kept his promise to Michael and stayed off the coke. Trouble was, before he had snorted the shit he had been able to hold his drink, but now he couldn’t. After cutting Bobby Jackson last night, he had got well and truly hammered.

When the phone rang again, Vinny staggered into the lounge to answer it. ‘Slow down, Mum. I can’t understand you. What’s happened?’

‘It’s Vivian. She’s tried to kill herself.’

Ahmed Zane sat down opposite his cousin in the small restaurant situated just off Tottenham High Road. The establishment had been funded by Ahmed. Burak ran it, and the two men split any profits straight down the middle. ‘How’s business?’ Ahmed asked.

‘Good. It’s been busy lately. How’s that loyal friend of yours? You seen him yet?’

Ahmed told him about Vinny visiting him at home, then filled him in on what had occurred at yesterday’s funeral.

‘So, what happens now? I am still on good terms with the Finsbury Park lads. Do you want me to sort something?’ Burak asked. He was livid at the way Vinny had treated his cousin, especially after the loyalty he and Ahmed had shown him. Burak had got himself involved in three murders on Vinny’s behalf in the past: Karen, the mother of his son, Kenny Jackson and Terry Smart had all had their lives ended prematurely thanks to Burak and his Finsbury Park pals helping Vinny out in return for a substantial amount of cash.

Ahmed took a sip of his Scotch and swilled the drink around in his mouth before swallowing it. ‘Killing Vinny does not satisfy my lust for revenge. I want to ruin him, take away everything of importance in his life, then watch him suffer.’

‘You mean his son? His mother? I can sort that for you.’

Ahmed shook his head. ‘We’ll let the family live for now. Money, his reputation and his freedom are the other most important things in Vinny’s life, and those are the things, if taken away, that will hurt him the most. I plan to strip him of all three.’

‘How?’

‘Not sure yet, but I will find a way. First though, I must be patient. If things start to go wrong now, Vinny will become suspicious. I need him to relax, assure him that I hold no grudges before I strike. Vinny Butler is a clever man, but he is not as clever as me. He who laughs last, laughs the longest, Burak, and that shall be us.’

Nancy Butler was sitting in silence at the dinner table. Her brother was rambling on about his job again, and even though Nancy was pleased that being a policeman obviously suited Christopher, she found the daily conversation ever so repetitive and tedious.

When Christopher began bragging about receiving praise from his boss yet again, before he could actually recite the conversation word for word, Nancy butted in: ‘Isn’t it about time you found yourself a girlfriend, Christopher? I think it would be good for you to have something else in your life other than work.’

Mary stopped chewing her food. Nancy and Christopher had always been so close as children, but not any more.

‘You’ve got more front than British Home Stores, Nancy. How dare you comment on my life when you’ve made such a mess of your own? You should think yourself lucky you have a roof over your head, after the way you’ve treated us in the past, eh, Dad?’

‘Your brother is right, Nancy. He’ll have plenty of time to charm the ladies once his probation period has finished. His career should come before anything else, and if he stays focused, he will climb that ladder to the very top,’ agreed Donald.

‘And when I get to the top, I shall arrest all the scumbags in this world, like your husband and his family,’ Christopher added.

Nancy stood up.

‘Where are you going, love? Sit back down and eat your dinner,’ Mary urged.

‘I’m going to ring Michael. We had a heart-to-heart the other day and he told me a few home truths. He said the boys were unsettled and I should be back at home taking care of them. He’s right, Mum. My sons need me and I can’t stay here for ever.’

‘But I thought you’d left Michael for good?’ Donald queried.

‘I never said that, Dad. All I said was I wanted a break from him to sort my own head and problems out. It isn’t Michael’s fault that I’ve suffered from depression. He has always been a good husband. I shall make sure I bring the boys to visit you regularly, if that’s OK?’

Donald would have been more inclined to argue with Nancy’s decision had it not been for his grandsons. Since meeting Daniel and Adam, Donald had felt so much happier in himself, and he couldn’t wait to spend more time with them.

‘Once a gangster’s moll, always a gangster’s moll,’ Christopher said cockily.

‘Shut up, you,’ Mary ordered her son. She then turned to Nancy. ‘Go and ring him then, love. You owe it to them boys to make your marriage work, and I’m sure now you’re feeling better, it will.’

Queenie Butler sat down next to her sister’s bed and squeezed her hand. The quick reaction by medical staff, plus the help of a stomach pump had saved Vivian’s life.

‘Why isn’t she talking to us, Mum?’ Brenda asked.

‘Because she’s ill, that’s why. Now, I reckon you should take Tara home, Bren. She’s obviously bored and I don’t need her whinging around me. I doubt Viv does either. Go on, off you go.’

As Brenda left the small ward, Dr Baker walked in. ‘I got here as soon as I could. Sorry to hear about what happened. How is our lovely patient?’

Vinny led the family GP outside and gave him a rundown of his aunt’s recent behaviour. He then begged the doctor to prescribe some stronger drugs.

‘I’ll be honest with you, Vinny, nothing I can prescribe is going to work. Your aunt has suffered a mental breakdown due to grief. She needs professional help of the twenty-four-hour kind.’

‘What you trying to say? I ain’t having her put in no loony bin, if that’s what you mean.’

‘A “loony bin”, as you so politely put it, is the only place where your aunt is going to get the correct help for her condition. If she returns home in her current mental state, what’s to say that she won’t make another attempt to take her own life?’

‘Me and Mum will look after her.’

‘Oh, don’t be daft, Vinny. You have a club to run, and if your mother takes on the burden of watching over Viv day and night, then she might end up suffering a breakdown herself. She’s grieving too, the poor woman. I’m sorry to be brutal with you, but I insist your aunt be hospitalized. I am very fond of Vivian and I would never forgive myself if I sanctioned her as well enough to go home, then disaster struck. My conscience won’t allow it.’

Reluctantly, Vinny agreed with the doctor. His mum wasn’t going to be happy, but he would break the news to her gently. Vivian’s welfare must come first.

Michael put the phone down and walked into the lounge. All three of his sons were giggling away at the Muppet Show.

‘Look, Daddy, look,’ Adam urged, pointing at the TV.

Michael grinned. Lee had settled in exceptionally well and he was thrilled by how close the three boys had become. ‘Guess who’s coming home tomorrow?’

Daniel shrugged.

‘Well, come on, guess,’ Michael urged.

‘Mummy?’ Daniel asked.

‘Yep. Are you looking forward to Mummy living with us again?’

When neither Adam nor Lee replied, Daniel thought that it was his duty to do so. He had missed his mum when she had first gone away, but that feeling had now worn off. His mum always seemed to be screaming or crying and he’d come to prefer the house without her. ‘Suppose so, Dad.’

Queenie cried when Vinny broke the news to her on the way home. ‘I can’t have her going to one of them awful places, Vinny. You’ll have to step in and stop it. Give you electric shock treatments and all sorts in them shitholes.’

‘Mum, I can’t stop it. Dr Baker knows what is best, we don’t. I know you want to care for Auntie Viv, but she really does need professional help. We have to do whatever it takes to get her better, and if that means her going away for a bit, then so be it. I promise you faithfully, wherever she goes, I will take you to visit her regularly.’

‘But what about the neighbours? Them nosy load of bastards will have a field day discussing Viv being carted off to the funny farm. No, Vinny. I’m not letting her go. She’ll never live the shame down.’

‘Fuck the neighbours! Surely Auntie Viv’s health is more important than what they think? Anyway, we don’t have to tell them. We can say that she’s gone to stay with a friend in the country to recuperate.’

Queenie looked at her son as if he had gone mad. ‘But she ain’t got no friends. And you know how rumours spread, we’ll never be able to keep it quiet … unless we just keep it between me, you and Michael. Bren can’t be trusted. Got a mouth as big as a shark when she has a drink. The kids can’t be told either. Little Vinny is bound to tell Ben Bloggs, and I don’t want him telling his whore of a mother or thieving old gran.’

‘Calm down, Mum. Nobody will know bar me, you and Michael, I promise.’

Queenie didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at the object on her front lawn. ‘What’s that, Vinny? Is it more flowers?’

Vinny could see better in the dark than his mother and he saw that the flowers were shaped in what looked like a gun. ‘Yeah, it’s flowers. Somebody must have got the day wrong. You go inside and put the kettle on, Mum. I’ll bring these in.’

He went to the arrangement and crouched down, his heart beating faster than its usual pace. The flowers were a mixture of red and white, which his mum hated. She always said it was the sign of blood and bandages and swore it was unlucky. The flowers were made up in the shape of a pistol and Vinny looked at the attached card with trepidation. He was right to be wary. The words read ‘YOU ARE NEXT’.

‘What you doing out there, Vinny?’ Queenie shouted from the house.

Vinny hurriedly stuffed the flowers in the boot of his car, then darted inside the house. ‘The flowers aren’t for us, Mum. They were delivered to the wrong street. I’m going to drop them off at the right address on the way home.’

‘Thank Christ for that! They looked red and white. That’s all we need – more bad luck.’

He tried not to let on, but Vinny was feeling physically sick. Because the flowers had been left on his mother’s front lawn it was hard to say whether the message was meant for her or for him. Ahmed popped into his mind, but Vinny quickly dismissed the thought. Even though Ahmed had forgiven him a bit too easily for his liking, he was sure that a stunt like this was not his pal’s style. If Ahmed planned to harm him, he certainly wouldn’t be issuing any warnings. Perhaps Bobby Jackson had sent them? But Vinny doubted it, given the damage he’d done to Bobby’s face and his threat to kill him. Jackson was a mouthy, gutless piece of shit just like his father had been. The only other suspect Vinny could think of offhand was Johnny Preston. The fact he was in prison wouldn’t have stopped him asking somebody to send the flowers, especially once he’d found out Joanna was pregnant. Well tomorrow Vinny would visit every florist in the vicinity to try and find out who the culprit was.

‘What’s the matter with you? Been struck dumb?’

Vinny recovered himself and fished in his pocket. ‘No. I have something for you, Mum. You’ve had so much on your plate, I thought I’d wait until after the funeral to give it to you.’ He produced a white envelope and handed it to her.

‘Who’s it from?’

‘It’s from Roy, Mum.’

Unaware that he was currently on Vinny Butler’s mind, Johnny Preston sat down opposite his ex-wife in the visiting room. Deborah hadn’t changed her name after their divorce, which was just as well as Johnny had recently proposed again, and she had accepted. ‘How’s things, love? Did you hear from Jo?’

Deborah felt sick with worry. Johnny had been adamant that Joanna would ring home on her eighteenth birthday, and he had been right. Now all she had to do was break the awful news to him.

‘Well?’ Johnny asked, his voice overloaded with impatience.

‘Yes, Jo rang me, Johnny. She said she missed us both and wanted to build bridges.’

Johnny grinned. ‘Well, that’s a start, ain’t it? Before you know it, she’ll see that no good prick for what he really is, Deb.’

Deborah squeezed the hands of the man she loved so very much. Johnny had once been a South London gangster, was in the know, so would hear the news anyway. Surely, it was kinder and better coming from her? ‘John, love … Jo’s pregnant.’

The breakfast in the Scrubs wasn’t the best and Johnny immediately felt his rise to the back of his throat. Moments later, he was violently sick.

Michael Butler was doing his best to tidy up in preparation for Nancy’s homecoming when the doorbell rang.

‘Dad, it’s Uncle Vinny,’ Lee shouted out.

‘What’s up?’ Michael asked. It was unusual for Vinny to turn up at his house without prior warning.

Vinny gesticulated for Michael to follow him outside. ‘I didn’t want to speak on the phone for obvious reasons. But I thought you should know that the van’s been found.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I caught the back end of a news bulletin. We picked a good spot there as the farmer only discovered it yesterday morning. Try not to worry because even if Trevor has been reported missing, no way will the Old Bill be able to confirm it’s him after my dentistry work. I used gallons of petrol and all that will be left of the cunt is his ashes and some fragments of bone,’ Vinny chuckled.

‘It ain’t no laughing matter, Vin. Say the Old Bill do come sniffing around?’

‘And why would they do that? Nobody bar me or you knows that we were watching Trevor’s movements and there’s sod all to link us to East Hanningfield. Stop panicking, for Christ’s sake, Michael. As I’ve said all along, the filth will not be able to identify Trevor, you mark my words.’

When Bobby Jackson strolled into the Blind Beggar, the pub immediately fell silent. Most of the customers had gone to Roy and Lenny’s funeral, then the wake afterwards, and the few that had not were well aware of Bobby being dragged out of the club by Vinny. News tended to spread like wildfire in Whitechapel, especially when the Butlers were involved.

‘What you lot staring at? Haven’t you ever seen stitches before?’ Bobby shouted out, before marching over to the corner of the bar where his pal Micky was.

‘Jesus, Bob. That’s gonna be some scar you’re left with there. I heard what happened. Whatever possessed you to set foot inside the Butlers’ club?’

‘I was pissed and the door was open. Unlike you and most of the mugs round here, I ain’t frightened of the Butlers. Fronted Vinny outside, I did. Called him every name under the sun and I told him I knew he’d done my old man in,’ Bobby exaggerated.

‘How many stitches you had?’ Micky shook his head. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a death wish at times, mate.’

‘Thirty-odd – and don’t you be worrying about me, Mick. I’ll strike one day and when I do that cunt Vinny won’t know what’s hit him. He’ll get his comeuppance, you wait and see.’

Queenie waited until Brenda, Tara and Little Vinny had gone to bed before she sat down and opened Roy’s letter. She had honestly thought her son had left this world without saying a proper goodbye to her and was so chuffed to discover that he hadn’t. Taking a sip of her sherry and a deep breath, Queenie rested her eyes on the page.

Dear Mum

I know if you are reading this letter then my plan and wish to die have been successful. I must explain why I did what I did, and I pray that you will understand.

I could never cope with being confined to a wheelchair from day one, and being paralysed down one side of my body was so awful. Even my face looked terrible where my mouth had dropped and I felt like a freak.

It made me bitter and I know I was nasty to people. Often in the night, I would dream of working at the club and being the man I used to be, then I would wake up and remember that I would never be that man again …

Queenie put the letter on the arm of the sofa. Her tears were dripping onto it, and she didn’t want it ruined. She wanted to treasure it for ever.

Five minutes and another sherry later, she found the strength to continue reading.

You were so lovely and kind every time you came to see me, Mum, and so was Auntie Viv. You deserved so much better than spending the rest of your lives worrying about and visiting some miserable bastard like me. Colleen and Emily-Mae both deserved more too, which is why I set them free.

I have forgiven Vinny, Mum, as not only do I want to rest in peace, I also know it is what you would have wanted. It was down to his past mistakes that I got shot, but he never pulled the trigger on the gun, so I could never truly hate him. It just used to make me angry when I saw him casually walking towards me in those smart suits, as I so craved to be able to do the same again myself.

Before I end this letter I want to ask a few favours from you. Firstly, I want you to be nice to my dad from now on. I know he was a bastard to you years ago, but he isn’t a bad man. I think he just felt very left out because Auntie Viv was always at the house, which is probably why he turned into a drinker and a womanizer.

Secondly, I want you to make sure Emily-Mae gets her inheritance. I still have quite a sum of money in my bank account and I want every penny to go to her when she is sixteen. I know Colleen has a new man now, but that does not alter my wishes. Emily-Mae is my daughter and I want to be the one to support her when she leaves school.

And last but not least, I want you to promise me that after reading this letter you won’t be sad any more. You have always been the strong one of the family and they all need you – Vinny, Michael, Brenda, Auntie Viv, and especially Champ and Little Vinny. You must be happy, Mum, please don’t cry any more.

Until we meet again,

Your loving son,

Roy xxx

Queenie put the letter down beside her and cried more than she had ever cried before.

CHAPTER FIVE
Spring 1977

Hearing the wonderful voice of Barbra Streisand enhance the radio airwaves, Queenie Butler turned up the volume. Chart music had been wonderful back in the fifties and sixties, but apart from the likes of Barbra, Queenie hated it now. The charts were full of disco music, and as for that punk rubbish, she could not even understand what those vagrant-looking creatures were singing.

Queenie sat down on the armchair and sipped her tea. ‘Morning, boys,’ she said to the photo that now took pride of place on her lounge wall. She didn’t have many photos with just Roy and Lenny in them, but this one was a beauty and she’d had it blown up.

The farewell letter Roy had written her had helped Queenie cope with his death. She had always known how unhappy he’d been after the shooting, though she’d never wanted to admit it. The letter had helped her face facts, and if she were honest it was a relief knowing her son wasn’t suffering any more. Lenny’s death, however, was a different kettle of fish. That boy had died way before his time and, unlike Roy, he had been a happy little soul. Queenie was amazed Vinny hadn’t yet sorted that Turkish bastard out, but her son assured her he planned to and was just biding his time. Queenie would never be able to rest until that day came. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth had always been her motto.

When the phone rang, she answered it and smiled as she heard the sound of her sister’s cheery voice. Vivian’s recovery had been a long and winding road, but she was more than on the mend now. For the past seven months she’d been residing at Goodmayes Hospital – or West Ham Borough Asylum as it used to be known, which Queenie could never understand as it wasn’t even situated in West Ham.

‘Not long now, Vivvy. Five days and you’ll be back in your own bed,’ Queenie reminded her sister. Vivian had her three-monthly review this coming Wednesday, and the doctor had already told Queenie and Vinny that Viv was ready to return home.

‘Oh, I can’t bloody wait, Queen. Nutty Nora’s been at it again. Yesterday she was a bestselling author and today she’s a famous film star. Been flouncing around in her nightie this morning quoting lines from Sunset Boulevard.’

Queenie chuckled. Now that Viv’s humour had returned, the pair of them could share a right old giggle at the expense of some of the other patients.

‘How’s Bren and the baby doing, Queen? No news on Vinny’s little ’un yet, I take it?’

‘No, no news. Jo is long overdue now. She has another hospital appointment on Monday and I reckon they’ll keep her in and start her off. She can barely move and feels ever so uncomfortable, the poor little cow. Vinny said she’s been having trouble sleeping as well. Bren’s OK. She came out of hospital yesterday and is going to stay here for a week or two before she goes home. Tommy’s a gorgeous baby, Viv. Big fat cheeks, arms and legs. You wait until you see him. Happy little soul he is, too. Rarely ever cries. Shame the same can’t be said about the other one,’ Queenie said, referring to her sulky granddaughter.

‘Has Bren mentioned Dean lately?’ Vivian asked. It had been over seven months now since her niece’s husband went out for a newspaper and never returned.

‘Not since the birth, but I can tell she’s missing him. That’s why I suggested she stay here for a while. Not going to be easy for her, bringing two up on her own. If I ever find out where that Dean Smart is, I swear I will pay him a visit and string him up by the bollocks. How a man can walk away and leave his kids is beyond me.’

‘Well, my Bill did,’ Viv reminded her. ‘What time you coming up to see me today? Will you be on your own?’

‘Yes. Michael’s going to drop me off and Vinny said he’ll pick me up. I’ll stop at Mum’s grave and put some fresh flowers down, then I’ll come straight to you. About two-ish, I reckon. I’ve written out a list of ideas for the street party. We’ll go over it together and you can add to it. I want our contribution to be better than anybody else’s, Viv. Vinny suggested setting up a music system in the front garden so we can play all the old wartime songs.’

Vivian smiled. She loved a sing-song and a royal celebration. The Queen’s Silver Jubilee was just what the doctor had ordered for her imminent homecoming.

Little Vinny Butler was currently in the doghouse. A fortnight ago, he and Ben Bloggs had broken into the general store run by the Indians along the High Street. The robbery had not been successful. An alarm had gone off and, even though the lads had scarpered quickly, the police had caught them hiding in an alleyway shortly afterwards with their hoard of stolen cigarettes.

Queenie Butler had gone apeshit when the police had knocked on her door in the middle of the night. Not only had her grandson lied to her about his whereabouts, he had also robbed a store that she used regularly.

The following morning, Queenie had rung her son to inform him Little Vinny would not be living with her any more. She had also marched the boy round to the Patels’ shop to make him apologize in person and offer his services to do any odd jobs on a Saturday for the next year.

‘Dad, please can I go out and play? I won’t go far and I’ll behave myself, I promise,’ Little Vinny begged.

‘No, son. I have to pop out in a bit and I need you to stay here and look after Jo for me. The baby might come anytime now, and Jo can’t be left alone.’

‘But I don’t want to stay ’ere with Jo, and I’m sick of hearing about the baby. I don’t like living here. I want to live with Nan again.’

‘Well, you should have thought of that before you robbed Mr Patel’s shop. Your nan won’t have you back, so best you get used to living here and start treating Jo with a bit more respect. Fucking rude you were earlier when she made you that sandwich. I want you to apologize to her.’

Unable to control his temper, Little Vinny punched the wall. He and his dad used to be so close once upon a time. Not any more though, and Little Vinny rued the day his dad had met Joanna Preston. In fact, he wished she would die.

Ahmed Zane met his cousin at their restaurant in Tottenham. Being Sunday lunchtime, the gaff was packed, so Ahmed followed Burak into the small office.

‘What’s that?’ Ahmed asked, clocking an unlabelled bottle.

‘Raki. I found us a new cheap supplier. Taste it.’ Burak poured a glass and handed it to him. ‘So, how’s it going with Vinny?’

‘OK. Since I started making more of an effort to spend time with him, he’s more like his old self. He still won’t touch any cocaine though, which is a damn shame. He was a lunatic on that stuff and would have had a really bad habit by now. It would have been so much easier to pull the wool over his eyes if he was permanently high like in the old days.’

‘Why don’t you try snorting in front of him?’ Burak suggested. ‘Lay a big mound out so he can’t help but be tempted. Once an addict, always an addict.’

‘I’ve already tried that. Reckons he won’t touch it because he promised his dead brother he wouldn’t. He’s acting all saintly at the moment and doesn’t even want to visit the whorehouses. He says it isn’t right because he has a new baby due any day.’

‘And what about his surprise gifts? Has he received any more of those?’

Ahmed shook his head. Vinny had not told him about the pistol-shaped flower arrangement until two weeks after the event. That was how Ahmed knew that his pal was wary of him now. Had the incident happened before the car crash, Vinny would have told him immediately.

The flowers had sod all to do with Ahmed, which meant somebody other than himself obviously had it in for Vinny. His car had recently been vandalized too, and the front of his club daubed with threatening and obscene graffiti. ‘I think it is time to put our real plan into action. As soon as the baby is born, I will make a fuss of the child. Then, we will start stitching its cunt of a father up good and proper. Those who sin must pay for their wrongdoings, Burak.’

‘Get away from us. Go on, go away,’ Vivian ordered. Mad Malcolm had a habit of staring at her and Queenie while trying to listen in on their conversations.

‘Gives me the fucking willies, he does,’ Queenie said when Malcolm slunk away like a scolded puppy.

Vivian laughed. She still missed her Lenny like mad, always would, but it was so nice to be able to smile and feel normal again. Some parts of the past seven months were a complete blank to Viv, especially around the time she tried to kill herself and first arrived at Goodmayes. There was no point crying over spilt milk, but Viv could never forgive herself for certain things. How could she have put Queenie through her attempted suicide and chucked all Lenny’s things away? She must have been really ill to do either.

‘I’ve been thinking, Queen. Can we go down to Kings on the first weekend I’m out? I would love a game of bingo and an hour or two in the amusements. I wonder if that handsome Mike is still running the arcade?’

Queenie squeezed her sister’s hands. Vinny had been trying to entice her down to Eastbourne ever since the holiday park reopened in April, but Queenie hadn’t been able to face it. She and Vivvy had loved that place and, without her sister by her side, it just didn’t feel right. ‘Oh, Viv, of course we can. I am so glad to have you back. My life was empty when you were ill.’

Vivian’s eyes filled up with tears. ‘And I’m sorry for what I put you through. I love you, Queen, and once I get out of this funny farm I intend to live the rest of my life to the full. I know we’ve both lost sons, but your Roy and my Lenny wouldn’t want us moping around.’

Queenie smiled. ‘You bet they wouldn’t.’

Michael Butler picked up the newspaper and immediately threw it back on the kitchen top. ‘BURNED ALIVE’ was the front-page headline and Michael could not stomach such stories any more.

Trevor Thomas’s death still played on Michael’s mind. Three days after his remains were found, the police had turned up at the club asking questions. Trevor had been identified by breaks he’d suffered in his collarbone and left leg in the past. He’d also had a plate and screws put in his knee, which made him even more identifiable.

Vinny had been as cool as a cucumber when the Old Bill showed up, insisting that he had not seen Trevor since he ran off with Yvonne. ‘No disrespect, officer, but I was no more than a child when Trevor ran off with my bird. I am now a man in a stable relationship with my second kid on the way. Do you honestly think I would still be bothered about some teenage love affair that happened all those years ago?’