and Vivian glanced at one another in amazement as the two delivery men brought a big wooden object inside.
‘Aw, Queenie, ain’t it grand? It’s one of them posh radiograms,’ Vivian whispered in her sister’s ear.
‘But we ain’t got no records to play on it,’ Queenie whispered back. Her only access to music was the radio she had in the kitchen.
After thanking the delivery men, Roy walked into the lounge with a cardboard box. ‘Put one on, Vin,’ he ordered his brother.
When the tones of Mrs Mills blasted out of the speakers, Queenie and Vivian looked at one another in delight.
‘Oh, ain’t it wonderful,’ Vivian said, grinning at her sister.
‘Bloody amazing,’ Queenie replied. No longer did she have to put up with Albie and scrub his skid-marked pants until her hands bled so that when she put them on the washing line the neighbours wouldn’t think they were a dirty family. Instead, she had a fabulous radiogram with Mrs Mills’ LPs to entertain her and Vivian on these cold winter nights. Queenie stood up, put one arm around Vinny’s neck and the other around Roy’s. ‘Thank you so much, boys. Not just for the radiogram, I mean for everything.’
Queenie Butler felt like the luckiest mum in the world when she walked into the club and saw the effort her wonderful sons had gone to on her behalf. There was a big banner wishing her a happy birthday, balloons, a buffet, a DJ, and most importantly friends and family members. ‘Aw, this is wonderful, boys,’ Queenie said, grinning at each of her three sons in turn.
Vinny sneered when she rested her gaze on Michael. Instead of being there to help him organize the bash, his youngest brother had only just turned up. ‘Don’t be thanking him, Mum. Unlike me and Roy, Michael did sod all to help.’
‘Oh, don’t have a go at him, Vinny. He’s only a baby still,’ Queenie said, stroking Michael’s cheek fondly.
‘No, he isn’t a baby, Mum, Michael’s a big boy now and for not turning up early like he was supposed to this morning, he will have his wages docked.’
Not wanting to get into a spat with his elder brother, Michael gave his mum a birthday hug. ‘You look ever so nice today. That suit looks mint.’
Queenie grinned with pride. She and Vivian always liked to think of themselves as the best-dressed women in the East End and today Queenie was wearing her ultra-modern apple-green skirt suit.
‘Hi, Michael. Sorry I’m a bit late,’ said a pretty girl with long blonde hair.
‘This is my girlfriend, Linda, Mum. You didn’t mind me inviting her, did you? I really wanted yous two to meet.’
When Queenie clapped her hands with glee and started fawning over the girl, Vinny stomped off in a temper. How dare Michael take it upon himself to invite some tart to the party without even asking his permission first. Talk about take a liberty.
Back at the café, Mary was getting more annoyed by the second at her husband’s childish behaviour. Donald had barely uttered a word to her since she had allowed the children to go to Brenda’s mum’s party and the silence was becoming unbearable. ‘Two ham, egg and chips, Donald,’ she said, walking into the kitchen.
Donald didn’t answer. Instead he just took the ham out of the fridge.
‘I am getting immensely sick of you acting like a ten-year-old, Donald. Even our children are more mature than you are. Nancy and Christopher have only gone to a little party, for Christ’s sake. They will be back by teatime. It’s boring and unhealthy for them to be cooped up in here with us all the time.’
‘I don’t mind them going to normal people’s parties, but you know how I feel about that family, yet you still allowed them to go. That Brenda is a horrible child and I hate our Nancy being involved with her.’
Desperate to make things right again between them, Mary put her arms around his waist. ‘I know what you mean, love, but we can’t wrap the kids in cotton wool. They are old enough now to choose their own friends.’
Donald sighed worriedly. ‘More’s the pity, my dear. More’s the pity.’
Queenie Butler had thoroughly enjoyed her birthday party. She and Vivian usually kept themselves to themselves, but Vinny had invited a few of the neighbours and apart from Sheila Jackson’s husband, Kenny, who was drunk and becoming a fucking nuisance, it had been a lovely day.
‘Shall we bring the cake out now?’ asked Vivian.
Vinny didn’t reply. He was too busy watching Kenny Jackson make a tit of himself. Vinny didn’t like Kenny one little bit, and had he known Sheila would bring her husband along with her, he wouldn’t have invited her in the first place. ‘That prick is asking for trouble, Roy,’ Vinny hissed.
‘Why? What’s he done?’ Roy asked. Kenny was a local loudmouth who drank in the Blind Beggar. Roy had never liked him either.
‘He keeps swearing in front of the kids. He’s let a “cunt” fly three times now in front of Mum, and Nancy and Brenda are sitting next to her. Champ is there as well. It ain’t right, Roy. I’m gonna have a little word in his shell-like.’
Knowing what his brother’s temper was like, Roy urged Vinny not to say anything. ‘You don’t wanna spoil Mum’s birthday, do you? Anyway, we’ll be wrapping things up in a bit. It’s gone five now. Who invited Kenny? It weren’t me.’
‘It’s my fault. I invited Sheila, but ’cause that piss-pot is always in the Blind Beggar on Saturday afternoons, I didn’t dream she’d bring him with her. I wanted to tell him to fuck off when he walked in, but bit me tongue.’
Desperate to stop Vinny from kicking off, Roy urged him to look at Lenny. Their cousin had just ran onto the dancefloor and was standing in the middle, wiggling his hips to the Hollies’ ‘Just One Look’.
About to watch his little cousin, Vinny heard another ‘cunt’ sail out of Kenny Jackson’s gob and decided enough was enough. He flew out of his seat, walked over to where Jackson was sitting and tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Tone your language down a bit, Ken. My little sister and her friend shouldn’t have to hear such words. Neither should my mother and aunt for that matter either. You ain’t in the Blind Beggar with your chums now, you know.’
Kenny Jackson looked at Vinny through glazed eyes. He didn’t like the Butler boys, especially Vinny and Roy. It was fast becoming common knowledge that they were a cocky little pair of bastards who were getting far too big for their boots. Knowing how fast news travelled and how much respect he would gain by standing up to Vinny Butler, Kenny decided to do just that. ‘You got some brass neck, you have. The grapevine is a funny old thing, kid, and everybody knows it was you who put your father in hospital because he was rumping some little dolly bird. Yet, you’ve got the front to tell me not to swear. Don’t make me laugh.’
A few of the women and children screamed when Vinny lifted Kenny up by the scruff of his neck and head-butted him. ‘You don’t know who you’re messing with, you cheeky fucker. And who you calling “kid”?’ Vinny spat, as he bundled Kenny towards the exit.
Sheila wailed hysterically when she saw that her husband’s face was covered in blood.
‘Do something, Roy. Don’t
