SEVEN
Eddie Mitchell plonked his drinks on the table. He looked extra suave today in his black Armani suit and he’d finally got around to having his hair cut yesterday. ‘The barmaid wouldn’t stop talking. She’s got the hots for me,’ he chuckled. ‘Nice-looking sort. But you know me, Vin. Only got eyes for my Gina.’
When his phone started to ring again, Vinny turned it off. ‘Me and my big mouth. It’s deffo all kicked off at the wake. Five missed calls from my mum in the space of two minutes. Michael’s probably on the warpath, searching for me as we speak. Let’s hope he don’t get his hands on a cricket bat again, eh?’ Vinny joked. When his brother had originally found out about his fling with Bella, Michael had stormed inside the Blind Beggar and taken a cricket bat to his head.
‘Did you tell Michael you’d put your foot in it?’ Eddie asked.
‘Nah. I said Mum needed to speak to him urgently. We’ll shoot back there in half an hour or so. Hopefully, he might have calmed down a bit by then.’
Every head in the place turned as the pub door crashed open and a white-faced man staggered in. ‘There’s been a shooting,’ he stammered, ‘down the road. It’s carnage out there – loads of people dead.’
Vinny leapt up. ‘What’s happened? Where?’
‘Nick’s restaurant – two masked men ran in there and started shooting. Ring the police and call some ambulances,’ he told the barmaid. ‘I’m going back there to see if I can help in any way.’
Vinny’s face turned a deathly shade of white. So did Eddie’s. Seconds later, the two of them bolted from the pub.
‘Sammi! Talk to me. Open your eyes. Please, keep awake, babe.’ Little Vinny’s tears dripped on to his wife’s cheeks as he gently cradled her head while pleading with her to speak to him. She’d said his name just now, and whispered Oliver’s, so she’d definitely been alive then. But now her eyes were shut, and as much as he pleaded, she wouldn’t open them again.
‘Move out the way. I’m a first aider,’ a female urged.
Little Vinny did as he was told. Punching the wall in frustration, he sank to his haunches, put his head in his hands and cried. He already knew Oliver was dead. His handsome first-born’s face now resembled something out of a horror movie. Nobody could have survived that, let alone a sixteen-year-old lad. As for Sammi-Lou, she’d been shot twice, in the chest and arm. This could not be happening, surely? Was it a bad dream? A fucked-up nightmare?
‘The police are here,’ a voice yelled.
‘Cover Oliver up. Put a coat over him or something. I can’t bear to look at him like that,’ Queenie wept, trying to comfort Ava at the same time. Her granddaughter was in trance-like shock, most people were. The atmosphere was completely surreal and Queenie was petrified that Vinny had also been caught up in the crossfire. She hadn’t been able to hear much with Michael lying across her as a human shield, but she’d caught enough of what the masked men had said to know they were after her eldest’s scalp in some warped form of retribution for Ahmed Zane.
‘The paramedics have arrived. Move away from the injured,’ a male voice bellowed.
Mouthy Maureen sobbed as Big Stan was covered over. He’d been a great neighbour, so kind, and Whitechapel certainly wouldn’t be the same without him. His family would be devastated, especially his poor wife, who was completely dependent on him due to her own health problems. She struggled to walk these days.
Totally beside himself, Calum Butler repeatedly smashed his forehead against the wall.
‘Stop that. You’ll hurt yourself,’ Michael said, grabbing hold of the distraught lad and wrapping his strong arms around him. Like everyone else, Michael was stunned by what had happened but was trying to hold it together for the sake of the family. He was also relieved his own children weren’t present. Camila had had an important audition for a show, thank God. And Nathan and Ellie hadn’t known Viv that well.
‘Ollie’s dead and now my mum’s gonna die. I need to be with Regan. They’ll have to let him come home now, won’t they?’ Calum gabbled, clinging on to Michael. He’d always been closer to his younger brother than he had to Oliver, but he’d still loved him a lot. Now he didn’t have an older brother any more. A disfigured corpse was all that was left of Ollie.
‘The professionals are working on your mum now. Fingers crossed, she’s gonna be OK, boy. Let’s both say a prayer for her, eh?’
‘Nah. God’s a fucking wanker. I don’t believe in him anyway.’
‘Dad! Nan, there’s Dad,’ Ava shrieked, the relief in her voice clear to hear.
Shocked at the horrific sight that greeted his eyes, Vinny scanned the room for his mum and dashed towards her, throwing his arms around her, then Ava. ‘Thank God you’re both all right. Where’s Little Vinny, and Michael? Is all the family OK?’
‘Little Vinny and Michael are, but Oliver and Sammi-Lou both got shot. He’s gone, boy. Ollie’s dead,’ Queenie sobbed. It was only recently her great-grandson had visited her in her new home. Laughing and joking, he’d been, telling her all about his college course. She couldn’t believe she’d never see him again. His life had been wiped out in front of her very eyes, in an instant.
Vinny looked at his mother as though she had lost the plot. ‘Ollie? Where is he? He can’t be dead.’
The gaff was now swarming with police and paramedics. Tears rolled down Queenie’s cheeks as she pointed towards where Oliver lay. The once-clean carpet was soaked in blood and gore. And most of the blood was her great-grandson’s.
Vinny ran over to the lifeless body of his first-born grandchild. ‘Move out the fucking way,’ he demanded.
A police officer grabbed hold of Vinny’s arm. ‘You can’t go near the victims, sir. We’re doing everything we can, as are the paramedics.’
Vinny pushed the copper out of his way. ‘I wanna see my grandson. I’ve got every right to.’
Another police officer stepped in. ‘I’m so sorry, but your grandson is a fatality. Now, can we clear this area? Move everybody outside. This is a crime scene,’ he yelled at his colleague.
Stunned, Vinny couldn’t move. He could remember holding Oliver in his arms as a baby for the very first time, and had felt great pride in watching him grow into a charming young man. The lad had his whole life ahead of him, how could it be wiped out in a split second?
Vinny was jolted back to reality by Eddie Mitchell’s voice. ‘Stuart’s in a proper bad way. Been shot in the gut and shoulder. I’m going in the ambulance with him. He’s unconscious.’
‘Jesus wept! I hope he’s gonna be all right. They reckon Oliver’s dead. He can’t be, surely? We only went to the pub. Who would pull a stunt like this at a wake? And why?’ Vinny mumbled. The carnage around him was dreadful, and he just couldn’t take it all in at present. How the hell was his son going to cope if Oliver was dead? That boy had always been the apple of Little Vinny’s eye. As for Sammi-Lou, she’d been the making of his son. No way would he be able to carry on without her.
Looking around for Little Vinny, Vinny heard the blood-curling scream come from his mouth before he saw him:
‘You
