and we need to be there to see her face when she sees it, which is why I needed you to get your arse out of bed early today.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. But please, can we just forget about this now, Vin? We don’t wanna spoil Mum’s party, do we?’
‘Yep, let’s forget about it, but in future, Roy, business and family before pleasure, eh?’
Roy nodded. ‘Of course.’
Johnny Preston was not a happy chappie. Vinny Butler ran the firm, the other brothers were nobodies compared to him, everybody knew that, yet catching Vinny on his own was proving to be a difficult task.
‘Can’t we just confront Vinny and Roy? We can take the pair of them on,’ Dave Phillips suggested.
‘Nope. I only deal with the organ grinder. No point involving the monkey. We’ll get him on his own, Dave. Patience is a virtue,’ Johnny replied as he drove past the club. ‘I wonder what’s going on in there? There’s a bird turned up with balloons now. Perhaps it’s his mummy’s birthday and the incestuous freak is throwing her a party.’
‘He reminds me of that geezer in the film Psycho, but I can’t remember his name,’ Dave added.
Johnny burst out laughing. ‘Great call, me ole cocker. Vinny Butler, the East End’s answer to Norman Bates.’
Mary was busy wiping down the tables when young Brenda wandered into the café. ‘Hello, love. Nancy’s upstairs with Christopher. Pop up and see her if you like.’
When Brenda ran up the stairs, Mary went into the kitchen to remind her husband of the conversation they’d had the other day.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t say anything rude to the awful child,’ Donald said cuttingly.
‘Mum, Dad.’ Nancy ran into the kitchen with Christopher and Brenda by her side.
Noticing that her daughter’s eyes were shining with excitement, Mary smiled. ‘What is it? Do you want to go out to play?’
‘No. I’ve been invited to a party and so has Christopher. It’s Brenda’s mum’s birthday.’
Donald frowned. If it was Queenie Butler’s birthday party then her sons were bound to attend and there was no way his daughter and son were mixing with that motley crew. ‘You and Christopher are far too young to be attending adult parties, Nancy. I’m sorry, but I will not allow you to go.’
‘Oh, please, Dad,’ Nancy begged, her lip trembling. She wanted to cry but didn’t want to make a show of herself in front of Brenda.
Mary glared at her husband and then turned back to her distraught daughter. ‘Where is the party, love? And what time is it? You’re too young to be out late at night.’
‘It’s not at night, Mrs Walker. It’s being held this afternoon in my brother’s snooker club. My brother says it has to end by teatime because he has to open the club to his punters of an evening,’ Brenda explained.
Donald sneered at Brenda’s use of the word punters. She sounded like a docker or a navvy. Her speech was so unfeminine for a little girl.
‘I think it’s OK for Nancy and Christopher to go to the party, Donald, as long as they are back here by six, don’t you? The snooker club is only around the corner, isn’t it?’ Mary said, giving her husband the evil eye.
‘Yesss! I love parties,’ Christopher shouted, clapping his hands with sheer delight.
Nancy was thrilled by her mum’s remarks and both girls jumped up and down with glee.
With a face like a smacked arse, Donald glanced at his wife, then his children. ‘Do whatever you bloody well like,’ he spat.
Queenie 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
