Читать книгу: «Payback», страница 2

When her mother had learned of her romance, she’d hit the roof. Joanna had then been forced to make a decision. Her family or Vinny? She was so besotted, she’d chosen Vinny, and was now pregnant with their first child. Her mum had been devastated. She’d told Joanna that with her long blonde hair, slender body and beautiful blue eyes, she could get any lad she wanted. But Joanna did not want a lad. She wanted a man, and that man was Vinny.

Moving to Whitechapel had proved to be a bit of an eye-opener for Joanna. She had spent the early part of her life living in South London, but barely remembered that. Tiptree and Eastbourne were the only other two areas she had lived in, and Whitechapel was so very different. The air reeked, the pavements were littered with rubbish, there was graffiti everywhere you looked, and it was very multi-cultural.

‘You OK? Hasn’t that sofa come yet?’ Vinny asked, snapping Joanna out of her daydream.

‘No, it hasn’t. Vinny, when can I start work at the club?’

Vinny crouched down next to the armchair and began to sweet-talk Joanna. When she had been working at the holiday camp, he had promised her a job as his secretary. That offer had merely been intended to entice her to London. He didn’t love her; neither did he want her working for him. Their whole relationship was based on revenge. Vinny hated Joanna’s father with a passion and would do anything to get even for what he’d done to Roy. Absolutely anything.

Michael Butler felt as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he drove towards Nancy’s parents’ house. Being the only one, bar Ahmed, who knew that Vinny was responsible for Lenny’s death was preying on his mind. On top of that, his wife had temporarily left him, and he was currently trying to bring up his three sons alone. Trevor Thomas was another worry. Say he and Vinny had left some kind of evidence at the scene? A long prison sentence did not bear thinking about.

Thankfully, Lee was at school today. It was him moving into their family home that had tipped Nancy over the edge. Lee’s mum and gran had died in a car crash a few months ago, so the poor little sod had had nowhere else to go.

‘Dad, we want you to come to our birthday party with us, don’t we, Adam?’ Daniel said.

Michael bumped the car up on the kerb and switched the engine off. As fate would have it, both his sons were born on the very same day. Daniel was four today, Adam two, but there was no way Michael could join in the celebrations. Although they were yet to be properly introduced, Nancy’s father hated him.

Michael locked the car door, grabbed his sons by their tiny hands, and led them up the pathway. It was Mary who answered the door, as he guessed it would be. ‘Any chance I can have a quick word with Nance, Mary? I miss her so much.’

Mary squeezed her son-in-law’s hand. She liked Michael, she really did, but it had taken all her strength to force Donald to allow their grandsons into the house. She couldn’t push the issue any further by extending the invitation to Michael. ‘Not today, love, but Nancy is on the mend. I can promise you that she’ll be ready to see you again soon.’

Closing the door on Michael she led the boys through to the living room. Donald looked awkward as he came face to face with his grandsons for the very first time. Both were dressed in matching beige suits, had jet black hair, bright green eyes, and looked nothing like anybody in his family.

‘Are you our granddad? We’ve been wanting to meet you for ages. My name is Daniel and this is my brother Adam,’ Daniel said politely.

Donald Walker was not usually a man of emotion, but when his youngest grandson held his arm out in hope that his hand would be shook, Donald could not help but smile. He had always been a fan of impeccable manners. ‘Yes, I’m your granddad, and I’ve been looking forward to meeting you too.’

Watching the bonding session unfold before her, Mary shared a smug smile with her daughter. Daniel and Adam already had Donald eating out of the palms of their hands. Gone was her miserable-looking bolshy husband. In his place was a happy, loving grandfather.

Vinny Butler walked into the room and for the first time since the accident locked eyes with the best pal he had left for dead. Ahmed looked awful, wearing only pyjama bottoms his face and body was covered in cuts and bruises.

Ahmed glanced at Vinny, his face devoid of emotion, and then turned to his wife. ‘Make yourself scarce, Anna. Vinny and I have business to discuss.’

When Anna left the room, Vinny’s eyes welled up with pure guilt as he tried to explain his actions on that fateful night. ‘I am so fucking sorry, mate. No way would I have left you if I had thought you were still alive. I really thought you were a goner.’

‘Pour us both a Scotch, then I want you to tell me exactly what happened. I don’t remember anything about that evening at all,’ Ahmed lied. He could sense that Vinny was nervous and so the bastard should be. Making it awkward without being too nasty was exactly how Ahmed had planned this conversation.

Vinny took a large gulp of his drink. ‘Do you remember going to the whorehouse in Dalston?’

‘Nope.’

‘Well, me and you were three sheets to the wind when we got there. We’d been boozing all night at the club. Champ overheard us saying where we were going and begged to come with us. Anyway, we had a great time and I offered to drive your car home. I’d sobered up a bit by then. But as I was driving, some van came towards me with its full beam on. I was momentarily blinded, which is why I lost control. We smashed into a building, but it was the left-hand side of the car that took all the impact. That’s where you and Champ were both sitting.’

‘Carry on,’ Ahmed urged.

Reliving the awful experience was something Vinny would rather not be put through, but what choice did he have? A thorough explanation was the very least he owed Ahmed. ‘Well, I hit my head against the steering wheel and it dazed me for a minute or so. When I came to and looked at you, there was a big piece of metal sticking out of your chest and a small piece in your head. There was blood everywhere. I checked for a pulse and couldn’t find one, then I got out the car to see if Champ was OK. The crash had almost fucking beheaded him. It was awful, the worst thing I have ever seen in my life. I checked you over once more before I left the scene, but I was positive you were dead. I would never have left you to die, you have to believe that, mate.’

Ahmed took a sip of his drink. He had nearly died and had only got out of hospital the previous day. ‘So, was you thinking straight when you legged it?’

‘My mind was all over the place. I was devastated, Ahmed, about you and Champ. It was like a bad fucking dream.’

‘What I cannot understand is how a devastated man would move his best pal’s body into the driver’s seat to avoid taking the rap himself. That is a callous, cowardly act in my eyes.’

‘I just panicked. It weren’t the Old Bill I was bothered about, it was my mum and aunt finding out I’d been driving the motor. If they thought it was me who’d killed Champ, they would both disown me. What did you say to the filth? I wouldn’t blame you if you dobbed me in it. It’s no more than I deserve.’

Ahmed chuckled. ‘I am not a grass, Vinny. It was my car that was written off and I was found behind the steering wheel, so you wasn’t even a suspect.’

‘Have you been charged with anything?’

‘No. I had internal bleeding, therefore needed an emergency operation. I was questioned, but there was no proof I had been drinking because my blood test ended up on the missing list.’

‘Well, I’ll buy you a new car obviously, and thanks for not saying anything. My mum and aunt are absolutely broken-hearted as it is. Roy’s dead as well. Shot himself in the head right in front of me. This past week has been the worst of my life.’

‘It’s not exactly been my best, Vinny.’

‘I know it hasn’t, mate. So, what happens now? I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my business partner any more,’ Vinny said. Michael was his partner in the legit business, the nightclub, but Ahmed had been his partner in the drug trade. Thanks to their astute business brains the two of them had built up quite an empire over the past few years, and the bulk of heroin and cocaine currently available on the streets of London was their merchandise.

Ahmed forced a smile at the man he now hated so very much. ‘I was not happy that you left me for dead but now you have explained yourself, I can understand why you did what you did. I am willing to let bygones be bygones.’

Relieved, Vinny hugged his pal. ‘I will make it up to you, I swear.’

‘I know you will. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m very tired and could do with some sleep. When is Champ’s funeral, by the way? Such a shame, he was a good kid.’

Vinny nodded, his face etched with grief. ‘The funeral is tomorrow. We’re having a joint one, burying Champ and Roy together.’

‘What time and where?’

‘The service is at St Leonard’s at two. You can’t come though, mate. You don’t look well enough and my mum and aunt will go apeshit if they see you there. They think you were driving, remember?’

‘And what about Michael?’

‘He knows the truth. I told him it was me.’

‘Well, that’s OK then. I loved Champ, Vinny, and I am determined to pay my respects to him. I don’t care if your mum and aunt hate my guts. I and God know that Lenny’s death had sod all to do with me, remember?’

Aware that Ahmed was being sarcastic, Vinny shrugged. ‘OK, but try and stay out of my mum and aunt’s way. I’ll smooth things over in time, but it’s all too raw at the moment.’

When Vinny said goodbye and shut the door, Ahmed smirked. He had no intention of staying away from Queenie and Vivian. He intended to make life as difficult for Vinny as he possibly could from now on. As for the Judas cunt thinking he had been forgiven, there was more chance of hell freezing over than that ever happening.

Thanks to Vinny, he had endured internal bleeding, three broken ribs and forty-two stitches in his face and stomach. Scars would heal, but Vinny’s betrayal wouldn’t. Every time he looked at those scars, Ahmed would be reminded of what his so-called best friend and business partner had done to him.

When Ahmed had first woken up and learned what had happened, his head and heart felt weighed down with feelings of shock and disappointment. Not any more though. Over the past few days, those feelings had been replaced by fury and an urge to get even.

Vinny Butler had disrespected him in the worst possible way. Moving his body into the driver’s seat, then leaving him for dead was an act of evil that Ahmed could never forgive or forget.

Ahmed grinned as he laid his head back on the pillow. The five most important things in Vinny’s life were money, his liberty, reputation, mother and son. Now, what should Ahmed take away from him first? Decisions, decisions …

CHAPTER TWO

On the morning of her son and nephew’s funerals, Queenie was woken up by the sound of torrential rain pounding against her window. ‘Poxy bastard weather,’ she mumbled as she pulled back the curtain. Funerals were miserable enough occasions at the best of times, but there was nothing worse than standing at a graveside in the rain.

Queenie Butler marched into her daughter’s bedroom and yanked the blankets from over her head. It was nine days since Brenda’s husband had left her. Dean had gone out for a newspaper one morning and had not come back. It had since come to light that he had cleaned out his bank account that very day. Unable to face life as a one-parent family, Brenda had moved into Queenie’s with her four-year-old daughter Tara. Both were high maintenance and loved a tantrum, and Queenie just wished they would sod off home.

‘Out of that pit and get yourself ready – and don’t forget to wear your cross,’ Queenie ordered. She and Vivian loved their gold, and always wore their big gold crosses supported by thick belcher chains for funerals, weddings and christenings in hope of impressing the vicar.

‘I don’t feel well, Mum. I feel sick again. Can’t I stay here and look after Tara?’

Brenda had only had her pregnancy confirmed by the doctor the previous day. Dean had really left her in the lurch and if Queenie ever got her hands on her son-in-law, she would wring his scrawny neck.

‘Don’t give me all that old flannel. You get your arse out that bed now, and make yourself look tidy. Not attend your own brother and cousin’s funerals? Never heard such cobblers in my life. Selfish little mare you are, Brenda. Well, today isn’t about you, it’s about Roy and Lenny, and if you don’t do me proud, I shall disown you.’

About to run a bath, Queenie heard a noise outside and looked out of the window again. ‘What the bleedin’ hell’s she doing now?’ she muttered. Vivian was dragging what looked like Lenny’s bedside cabinet up the garden path, and making quite a racket as she did so.

Putting on her shoes and coat, Queenie ran downstairs and out the front door. ‘Whatever are you doing? It’s not even six o’clock yet. You’ll wake the neighbours up, and you’ll catch pneumonia in this weather.’

‘I’m putting Lenny’s stuff out for the dustmen. Not going to be needing it any more, is he?’

Queenie stared at her sister. When they had first learned about Lenny’s death, Vivian had cried and wailed like an injured animal, but since then she had shown hardly any emotion. She had barely mentioned the funeral and Queenie found it very odd that she wanted to chuck all the poor little sod’s belongings away. There was no way she could part with anything of her Roy’s. ‘Viv, there’ll be flowers arriving soon. Leave sorting out Lenny’s belongings until after the funeral. If you still want to get rid of them, I’ll get one of the boys to take the stuff to the dump for you.’

‘I wish you’d stop telling me what to fucking do, Queen,’ Vivian spat, dumping two cardboard boxes full of toys next to her sister’s feet.

Queenie looked down and immediately felt a lump in her throat. Zippy the monkey had been Lenny’s favourite toy. He had carried it everywhere with him as a kid, and had always slept with it in his bed until the day he died. Queenie picked the toy up. No way was she going to allow her sister to throw that away. It should be buried with Lenny.

Michael was shocked to receive an early morning phone call from his wife. It was the first time they had spoken since Nancy had been taken into hospital. She had wandered out one evening in her nightdress and slippers and had been found by a man in an alleyway the following morning. The doctors had suggested that Nancy’s odd behaviour could be down to post-natal depression, but seeing as Adam was now two, Michael found that hard to understand.

‘Nance, I’ve really missed you, babe. The boys had a great time yesterday and were full of it when they came home. They didn’t stop talking about their granddad, so I take it it all went well?’

‘Yes, it went very well. My dad adored them, and I’m ever so pleased. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. How are you? I was so sorry to hear about your brother and Lenny. When are their funerals?’

‘Today. Will you come with me, Nance? My mum and aunt are both in a dreadful way and I could really do with your support.’

Nancy sighed. She had only just started to feel like her old self again, and didn’t fancy spending time with Michael’s family yet. Vinny had a way of making her feel anxious, and Brenda would be bound to kick off with her over Dean going away. ‘I’m sorry, Michael, but I don’t feel up to attending funerals. I will look after the boys for you though. Mum said you were taking them with you and I’d rather you didn’t. They’re far too young to be surrounded by death.’

Michael was cross. He had cared for his sons almost single-handed these past couple of months. It also hurt him that Nancy had only called because she had wanted to have Daniel and Adam for the day. Did she not love him any more? Was their marriage over? Well, there was only one way to find out. An ultimatum should do the trick. ‘Nance, I cannot believe what you just said. “I will look after the boys for you” – have you forgotten you’re their mother? Look, I know you’ve been ill and I sympathize with that, but now you’re feeling better, you need to have a think about us. I’ll give you a week to get your arse back home, and if you don’t, I shall start divorce proceedings. Our sons are unsettled enough as it is at the moment and I won’t allow you to keep fucking them about. They miss you, I miss you, and you should be back at home where you belong. You can’t hide behind your parents for ever. As for the funeral, the boys are coming with me, end of. It’s not fair on Lee if they don’t.’

‘I’m sorry I’ve been a bad mum and wife, but I have been really ill,’ Nancy replied, her voice full of emotion.

‘No, you haven’t been ill, Nance, you’ve been depressed. Two different things, so my mum reckons. Don’t you think I get depressed too? My cousin has just been beheaded in a car crash, Roy has blown his brains out, and I’m currently trying to run a business and bring up three kids on my own. Do you wanna swap fucking places? Listen, I’ve got to go now. I need to get round my mum’s and the boys haven’t had any breakfast yet. I meant what I said though, Nance. You’ve got a week to make up your mind, or we’re finished.’

Joanna Preston held Vinny’s arm as they strode towards Queenie’s house. It had been her boyfriend’s idea that she ring her mum this morning. He had said that her eighteenth birthday was as good a time as any to try and patch things up. He’d also insisted she tell her mum that she was pregnant.

‘You OK? Shame your mum went off on one, but she will come round in time you know,’ Vinny said. He had been dying for Johnny Preston to find out that he had got his daughter up the spout. Deborah was bound to tell him the news, and Vinny only wished he could be there to see the look on the bastard’s face.

‘Are all these people here for the funeral, Vinny?’ Joanna asked, as they turned the corner. There was a crowd of about a hundred or so.

‘Yeah, must be. Bit early they are, though. I hope they haven’t knocked on my mum’s door. I told them to leave her be,’ Vinny replied. His mother had insisted that, apart from family, she wanted nobody inside the house.

The flowers spread across his mum and aunt’s front gardens brought a lump to Vinny’s throat. The wreath he had chosen, with ‘Champ’ spelled out, was that big it literally shone out like a beacon.

Little Vinny was ten years old and with his black hair and piercing green eyes it was like looking at his father at the same age. Unfortunately for Queenie, her grandson had picked up many of Vinny’s traits. He was obstinate, had a temper on him, and once he got a bee in his bonnet, there was very little reasoning with the child.

‘I’ll say this once more, Vinny. Get upstairs and put your suit on before I brain ya. I really don’t need you performing today, boy. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.’

When Little Vinny didn’t move out of the armchair, Queenie was moving in to give him a good clout round the earhole when she heard the front door open and close. ‘About bloody time too. I’ve had all them nosy bastards out there knocking on the door, and now your son reckons he isn’t coming to the funeral,’ Queenie told Vinny.

Ordering Joanna to keep his mum company in the kitchen, Vinny walked into the lounge and shut the door. ‘What’s the matter, boy?’

‘Don’t like funerals. They remind me of my mum dying.’

Vinny crouched next to his son. Little Vinny had barely known his mother. Karen had been a stripper at the club when she’d fallen pregnant by Vinny. He’d paid her off and brought his son up with the help of his mum. When Little Vinny was five, Karen had turned up on his doorstep like a bad penny. He’d had her done away with, ordering that her murder be made to look like a heroin overdose. ‘Look, boy, I know you aren’t happy about me being with Joanna and her being pregnant, but I bet once your brother or sister is born, you’ll be in your element.’

‘No, I won’t. I hate babies,’ Little Vinny replied, his lip protruding sulkily.

‘But it won’t stay a baby for long. It will soon be old enough for you to talk to and take out. I remember sulking when your nan fell pregnant with Roy. I wanted to be the only kid. When Roy was born, I soon grew to love him – and you’ll be the same when Jo’s baby is born. You’re my first-born, Vinny, and you’re always going to be more special to me than any other kid.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. I’ve always been closer to Nanny than Roy, Michael or Brenda were, and that’s because I was her first-born. Number one son you are, boy. Very special that is.’

When Little Vinny grinned, Vinny ruffled his hair. ‘Now, go and put your suit on.’

Vivian Harris took one last look inside Lenny’s old bedroom and shut the door. It looked bare and cold now, just like her heart felt. The dustmen must have taken away his stuff because she’d looked out of the window an hour ago and it was gone. A mass of flowers had replaced her son’s belongings.

Hearing voices outside, Vivian peeked through the curtain again. ‘Nosy fucking bastards. Go away and leave me alone,’ she muttered. She had only ever been interested in her family. In her eyes, nobody else mattered.

Aware that somebody was staring up at her, Viv jumped away from the curtain. She poured herself another brandy and lay down on her bed. As soon as her pest of a sister left for the funeral, she planned to fall asleep and never wake up. Lenny needed her, he always had, and she was determined to be there in heaven for him. That’s if the bastard place existed, of course.

When Michael arrived, Queenie Butler battled her way through the well-wishing mourners to get to her sister’s house. Vivian had insisted on being left alone earlier and had promised she would knock at Queenie’s as soon as the coffins arrived. She hadn’t. Queenie put her key in the door, but the chain was on. ‘Viv, it’s me. Let me in.’

When she still received no reply, Queenie started to get angry. ‘Vivvy, open this bastard door now,’ she yelled.

Aware of Nosy Hilda and Mouthy Maureen staring at her, Queenie pushed past the gawping mourners and marched back to her own house. ‘Vinny, you’re going to have to do something. Viv’s locked herself in and she won’t answer the door. It’s all your fault for fitting that poxy chain lock, so best you sort it. What with your sister and son, I’ve had enough drama for one day.’

Vinny snatched the key off his mum, then darted next door. ‘Auntie Viv, come and take this lock off please. We have to leave soon, the cars are here.’

After five minutes of begging his aunt to answer the door and receiving no reply, Vinny took a couple of steps back and booted the door open. He looked in the lounge first, then ran up the stairs.

‘Go away and leave me alone,’ Vivian screamed when her bedroom door flew open.

‘What you doing, still in bed? We have to leave in a minute. Why aren’t you dressed?’ Vinny asked.

‘Because I ain’t coming. Nothing is going to bring my Lenny back. Why would I want all them nosy cunts out there gawping at me, revelling in my misfortune?’

Clocking the bottle of brandy on Vivian’s bedside cabinet, Vinny sighed. Only his mother could sort this one out and she was going to go apeshit when she found out Viv was sloshed. He ran back to his mum’s, drew her aside and told her, ‘Viv reckons she isn’t coming to the funeral. She’s still in bed and she’s slurring. I think she’s pissed.’

Queenie Butler was out the door like a bat out of hell. Her black hat flew off in a gust of wind as she ran down the path, but she did not stop to retrieve it. First Brenda playing up, then her grandson and now Vivvy. Did the selfish bastards not realize that she was grieving too?

‘Is everything all right, Queenie?’ asked Nosy Hilda.

‘Mind your own fucking business for once,’ Queenie snapped, barging past her open-mouthed neighbour. She ran up her sister’s stairs and into the bedroom. ‘You are going to the funeral even if I have to drag you there. Now, get your arse out of bed and get a grip woman.’

‘I can’t face it, Queen. My Lenny knew I loved him, so did Roy. I don’t have to go to no funeral to prove that to anyone.’

Queenie ripped the blankets off her sister just as she had with her daughter earlier. ‘Now, you listen to me, Vivian Harris. Get out of that bed and get yourself dressed. It’s unheard of in our neck of the woods for a woman to miss her own child’s funeral – and may God be my judge, you ain’t gonna be the first. We’re the talk of the town as it is, what with Vinny having to kick your front door in. I will not have our boys’ funerals become a laughing stock, not on your nelly. Now, up you bloody well get.’

Albie Butler could feel his heart beating like a drum as he approached St Leonard’s church. He hadn’t spoken to Vinny since his son had threatened to kill him and he was also on bad terms with Queenie and Viv. Even his daughter and eldest grandson hated his guts.

‘What’s up, Albie?’ Bert asked, when his brother stopped in his tracks.

‘Let’s wait here. Big Stan is standing outside the church and I know he’ll kick off if he sees me. I told him I had cancer that time and he bought me drinks and bunged me money,’ Albie explained, truly regretting his terrible lie. He had only told his family and neighbours he had cancer so he could have contact with his children again. His deceit had backfired though. Vinny had found out and tried to blackmail him, and when Albie refused to get involved in his son’s evil plan to ruin Roy’s engagement, Vinny had outed his lie in front of half of Whitechapel.

‘The funeral cars have arrived by the looks of it, Albie. Let’s go and find your Michael. He won’t allow anybody to have a go at you.’

Albie still had a good relationship with his youngest son. When Vinny had forced him to leave the East End, it was Michael who had driven him down to Ipswich to start his new life. Moving in with Bert had been a blessing. Albie had cut down his drinking and really sorted his life out. He had even met a lovely lady. Dorothy now lived with him and Bert and she was an absolute diamond. She treated him with far more respect than Queenie ever had. His marriage to Queenie had been doomed as soon as she had fallen pregnant. From the moment Vinny was born, Vivian had taken over his husbandly duties and he had been pushed out of the family circle like an unwanted bag of old rubbish.

‘Dad, I’ve spoken to Mum and Vinny and they’ve agreed that it’s only right you sit in the front pew with us,’ Michael said, hugging his worried-looking father.

‘Thank you, Michael.’ Albie’s eyes filled up with tears and he was too choked to say more. He had loved Roy and was so glad his son had taken the trouble to phone him before ending his life. Their conversation had been relatively short, but bridges had been built, truths had been told, and that meant the world to Albie.

The actual service was a far cry from the typical East End funeral. Both Queenie and Vivian regularly visited their mother’s grave and spoke to her as though she were still alive, but neither was particularly religious. Their lives and luck had taken far too much of a bashing for them to truly believe in God. When the vicar had visited her at home to make arrangements, Queenie had insisted that the pianist play songs rather than hymns.

‘Bye Bye Blackbird’ was the song she had sung to all her children to get them to sleep when they were babies, so seeing as her Roy was now asleep for ever, it seemed an appropriate choice. Lenny was a big Elvis fan, so Queenie had chosen ‘The Wonder of You’ especially for her nephew. Vivian had been in no fit state to have any input into the playlist, but Queenie was sure her sister would have opted for the same song, as it had been Lenny’s all-time favourite. ‘On Mother Kelly’s Doorstep’ was Queenie’s final request. Both she and Vivian loved that song and had taught it to their offspring, so Queenie saw it as a fitting family tribute.

Vinny locked eyes with his father as he sat down in the pew and gave him a polite nod. Michael had agreed to cover up that it was Vinny who had been driving the night Lenny was killed on condition that he promised to make things right with their dad. Roy had requested the same thing in his suicide note, and Vinny knew he owed it to his brothers to abide by their wishes.

‘Today we are here to remember the lives of Roy Butler and Leonard William Harris,’ the vicar’s voice boomed.

Squeezing Vivian’s hand, Queenie glanced down the pew. Albie, Vinny, Michael and Little Vinny all had tears rolling down their cheeks. Roy’s ex-fiancée and her parents were seated in the opposite pew. Colleen was sobbing, but Queenie was annoyed with her. Roy’s only child, Emily-Mae, was four now and she had wanted the girl to attend her father’s funeral but Colleen had rebuffed the request. Queenie hadn’t seen her granddaughter since Colleen had returned to her native Ireland, and she had been desperate to tell the child what a wonderful man her daddy was.

‘God! What fucking God?’ Vivian muttered as the vicar began sermonizing about the afterlife.

‘Shush, Viv. Your voice carries and people can hear you,’ Queenie whispered.

‘Couldn’t give a toss what people think. No God would have taken my boy from me. That’s how I know he don’t fucking exist.’

When the pianist played ‘The Wonder of You’, Vivian’s anger turned to anguish. ‘My baby. My beautiful boy. Mummy loved you so much, Lenny. You were my world.’