catsuit out of a carrier bag, Rhonda gasped. ‘Oh Nance. It’s beautiful. Do you think you will end up sleeping with him?’
‘No, I won’t! I don’t want him to think I’m some slag. I wish you and Kevin could have hit it off. I wouldn’t be so nervous if all four of us were going to the hotel.’
Rhonda smiled, but said nothing. She had kissed Michael’s best friend on the night they had met at the fairground, but she hadn’t wanted to take the relationship any further. Kevin was sweet, but Rhonda knew that her dad would have murdered her if he found out she was dating a mixed-race lad. ‘You won’t be nervous when you get there. Have a couple of Cinzano and lemonades. That will take the edge off a bit. I’m dreading your mum or dad ringing my house, Nance. I hope I don’t put my foot in it.’
‘’Course you won’t! Just say what I told you to say. I have gone to Katie’s birthday bash and will be home Wednesday teatime, OK? They can’t call you a liar as well, Rhon. Anyway, I am only lying to them because my dad is so bloody unreasonable. I’m sick of him treating me like a child and I’m not putting up with it any more.’
‘But say your dad kicks you out or something?’
Nancy shook her head confidently. ‘No way could he ever kick me out. My mum would never allow it.’
Unaware that he had a spectator, Michael was eating fish and chips and sharing a bottle of cider in the park with Nancy.
Vinny studied the two lovesick fools through his binoculars. The bird was stunning, looked like a model, but tarts like that were trouble. Yvonne Summers had been a beauty, and look how that slag had treated him. Vinny could barely remember what Nancy looked like as a child, so had no idea whether this was her or not. What he did know was that she worked at Woolworth’s, and his soppy brother looked absolutely smitten with her.
When Michael began kissing her passionately, Vinny immediately felt queasy and put down his binoculars. He hated kissing. Mouth-to-mouth contact was far too personal for his liking.
Vinny left it a few minutes, picked his binoculars up again, and was pleased to see Michael and the bird were walking back towards his car. Hopefully time to find out where the bitch lived now. Then, if she was Nancy Walker, he would have to work out what to do next.
‘Eat something then, boy. I know you’re worried about your father, but he’s probably just gone on one of his benders like he always does when the going gets tough. You know what he’s like.’
Dean put down his knife and fork and puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. His dad hadn’t been seen since the day Dean had told him about his relationship with Brenda, and Dean was desperate to speak to him to try and smooth things out a bit. Obviously, his father wasn’t going to be happy about the situation whatever he said, but if his nan could see a light at the end of the tunnel, then why couldn’t his old man do the same? Surprisingly, Freda had managed to get her head around her grandson’s predicament. Obviously, she was still appalled that the Smarts and Butlers would soon be joined in matrimony, but she was willing to overlook who the mother of her first great-grandchild was, because she was determined to be a good nan herself. At least the child’s surname would be Smart and that alone was a consolation. ‘I’m gonna have to go and find him, Nan. He’s clearly still got the right hump, and this needs to be sorted out.’
‘Don’t be going confronting him in a pub, Deano. Wait till he comes home and sobers up, eh?’
‘But, he’s always bastard-well pissed lately, Nan, and he ain’t been coming home. I know you’re worried about him too, and seeing as this is all my fault, it’s my duty to make things right.’
Freda grabbed hold of her grandson’s arm. ‘Let me go and find him. He’s probably in the Grave Maurice, or the Prince Regent in Salmon Lane.’
Dean gently removed his nan’s hand. ‘No. This is my mess and I am quite capable of sorting it out myself.’
Even though she was close to all three of her boys, Queenie Butler now saw far less of Roy than the other two. Since he had met Colleen, any spare time Roy had he liked to spend with her, so it had been a nice surprise when he turned up on his own today. ‘Want some spotted dick with syrup, boy? I’ve only just steamed it.’
‘No thanks, Mum. I’d love a cup of tea though. Where’s Vinny and Brenda? Champ’s still at the club with Michael. Doing OK he is, you know.’
Queenie chuckled. ‘I knew he’d be an asset to yous boys. Vivvy’s knackered, Roy, gone indoors for a lie-down she has, and Brenda has popped out with Susan. Never seen your sister so happy before. Perhaps having a sprog and getting hitched is all she ever wanted in life.’
‘Well, I hope it works out between her and Dean for all our sakes. Actually, it was my wedding that I came here to talk to you about. Neither me nor Colleen want to rush into things, but I would like to organize a surprise engagement party for her in the near future and wondered if you would help me? I was thinking of arranging it on the weekend that Colleen’s birthday falls at the end of August. I want to get all her family over from Ireland for it, and I was hoping you would do all the ringing around for me. You know how crap I am on the old rag and bone.’
Queenie’s heart lurched. If Roy was planning a big event where he was going to surprise Colleen by inviting all her family, then he wasn’t going to be too thrilled with Vinny’s bright idea of holding a joint engagement party as early as next week.
Vinny Butler was a very private man; therefore when he did participate in the occasional sexual encounter, he told nobody, and would rather pay for it than have any emotional involvement whatsoever.
Soho was Vinny’s preferred destination. He had found a tasteful, discreet whorehouse there, with a quiet little bar nearby.
‘Another large Scotch, Sir?’ the barmaid asked.
Vinny nodded. He had earlier followed Michael’s girlfriend back to what looked like a newsagent’s or general store, but the shop had been closed and the girl had then used a side door. Vinny had managed to get a closer look at her as she had entered the building, and he had a strong feeling that she was in fact Nancy Walker. The shop must belong to her parents, and he would find out for sure tomorrow when he paid another visit to see who was running it. He would recognize that pretentious bastard Donald in an instant.
‘Would you like another?’ the barmaid asked again a couple of minutes later.
Slamming the glass on the bar, Vinny shook his head. He was stressed out, angry, and the quicker he released his pent-up frustration on whatever slag took his fancy, the better.
Dean Smart felt the atmosphere in the Grave Maurice change as soon as he walked in. His father was standing with the usual half a dozen cronies he drank with, and when a few of them spotted his presence, there was a deathly silence. ‘Dad, can I have a word with you in private, please?’ Dean asked, politely.
Terry Smart was extremely drunk. He was also very aware that the pals he was currently standing with were the same mates he had been drinking with the day Vinny Butler had strolled in the pub, dragged him outside, then smashed his boat race to smithereens. Desperate to save face, Terry picked up his pint glass, and lunged at his only son. ‘You Judas little cunt. You’re no son of mine.’
Lucy Brown was quite new to the wonderful world of prostitution, so when Vinny Butler began to shag her violently up the arse, she wondered if she had stumbled into the wrong profession. ‘Can you please slow down? You’re hurting me,’ she
