minutes later, the Enemy was on a District Line train on his way back to Dagenham. He hoped his dad and granddad were looking down from heaven and were proud of him. That’s if his granddad was even in heaven, of course. Rumour had it, Vinny had put him in a cement mixer and he was now propping up the flyover along the A13. That’s what Billy Carver reckoned anyway.
Turning his thoughts to his purchase, the Enemy smirked. Fish were harmless and didn’t deserve to be filleted. As for the Butlers …
‘Morning, Queen. Silly-boy lemon’s strutting up and down the garden again with his holster and cowboy hat on.’
Queenie chuckled. She and her sister Vivian lived next door but one to each other, and the neighbours in between them were a proper pair of notrights. They were harmless enough though and provided Queenie and Viv with hours of entertainment.
‘Got a houseful today, Viv. Little Vinny’s coming, Michael’s bringing the boys, Vinny and Ava will be here – an’ he’s invited Jay Boy and Jilly.’
‘The more the merrier,’ Vivian replied. She actually wanted to add, bar one, but chose to hold her tongue. Her and Queenie had made a pact to stop dragging up the past and instead concentrate on the future.
‘Answer that for me, Viv.’
Vivian picked up the phone, had a short conversation, then returned to the kitchen. ‘It was Michael. Albie’s had a fall. He’s OK, but Michael didn’t want to leave him today, so I said it would be all right for him to come for dinner an’ all.’
Slamming her potato peeler on the kitchen counter, Queenie turned to her sister, eyes blazing with fury. ‘I don’t want that womanizing old tosspot round ’ere, thanks very much. You had no right to tell Michael he was welcome. It’s my bloody house and it’s gonna be overcrowded as it is.’
Vivian sighed with annoyance. Queenie and Albie had split up donkey’s years ago, yet still her sister wouldn’t let bygones be bygones. ‘Make me laugh, you do. Ain’t it about time you practised what you preach? If I can be adult enough to breathe the same air as that murdering bastard of a son of yours, why can’t you at least be polite to poor Albie?’
Seething, Queenie turned her back on her sister and took her anger out on the saucepans, banging them about like drums.
‘Well?’ Vivian spat. Lenny had been her only child. A wonderful, loving lad who’d never let his learning difficulties hamper his life. Unfortunately, Lenny’s life had been wiped out at the tender age of twenty thanks to Queenie’s eldest son. Not only had Vinny Butler taken her innocent boy to a knocking shop, he’d driven them home while out of his nut on drink and drugs and smashed the bastard car to smithereens. Vinny being Vinny, he’d walked away without a scratch, but her beloved son hadn’t been so lucky. Poor little sod had been virtually beheaded.
‘Me, make you laugh! Well, let me tell you a few home truths: you make me laugh twice as bleedin’ much. “Poor Albie” indeed! You hated the bastard when I was married to him. Called him every name under the sun. I’ve met some two-faced fuckers in my time, but you’re top of that list, Vivian Harris. Molly would still be alive if that disgusting old toad hadn’t stuck his John Thomas up Judy Preston’s snatch. Now piss off back to your own house. How dare you put that vile excuse of a man before me! Me and you are finished. You’re no sister of mine.’
Michael Butler had just got out the shower when he heard the front door slam.
‘It’s only me, Michael. I happened to be passing, so thought I’d pop in to see if you or the boys needed anything,’ Katy shouted out.
Michael gritted his teeth in annoyance. Sunday was Katy’s day off and he certainly hadn’t entrusted her with a key so she could come and go as she pleased. He dressed hurriedly and bounded down the stairs. ‘Pop up the shops for me, boys. I’m out of cigarettes. Tell Bob they’re for me.’
‘I’ll go if you want?’ Katy offered. She liked to make herself indispensable.
‘Nah, they’ll go,’ Michael replied, handing Lee a fiver.
Waiting until the boys were out of earshot, Michael asked, ‘So what you doing ’ere on a Sunday? It’s meant to be your day off.’
Not prepared to admit she’d missed Michael so much that she’d driven past purposely in hope his car would be there, Katy pretended she was on her way to visit a friend. ‘We’re going out for lunch,’ she added.
‘Same ’ere. I’m taking the boys out. Was meant to be going round my mother’s, until it all kicked off.’
‘Oh my God! What’s happened?’ gasped Katy, putting her hand over her mouth for full dramatic effect.
‘Oh, nothing major. My mum had a row with my aunt, that’s all. You best get off then. As soon as the boys come back, I’m making tracks.’
Katy drank a mouthful of tea, then stood up. ‘I might be popping to the club tonight with a friend. Please don’t worry, she doesn’t know about us.’
Wanting to yell ‘There is no fucking us!’ Michael instead nodded dumbly. Why was it men could separate love and sex yet women couldn’t?
Vinny Butler laughed as his grandson tried to chase Fred around the garden. He’d mastered the art of walking, but not running yet.
‘Oops-a-daisy,’ Queenie said, picking the child up.
Oliver Butler held his great-granny’s face in his tubby hands. ‘Foo, Nana, foo.’
‘He’s only asking for grub again. No wonder he weighs a ton, the cheeky monkey,’ Queenie chuckled. She was still livid about her sister’s betrayal and harsh words, but was determined not to let the argument spoil her day.
‘Give us him ’ere, Nan. I got a whiff of something nasty. It’s either him or you’ve had the accident,’ Little Vinny chuckled.
‘I’ll put arsenic in your dinner, you, if you carry on,’ Queenie joked. She was genuinely proud of the way her grandson had turned out. He’d been a horror as a child and a teenager, causing her no end of grief, but meeting Sammi-Lou and becoming a father had been the making of him.
Vinny Butler sat next to Sammi-Lou. ‘Not long until he makes an honest woman of you now, eh?’
As Sammi-Lou Allen excitedly chatted about her forthcoming wedding, Vinny listened with a wide grin on his face. His son had been an embarrassment to him as a youngster, especially when he’d gone through that skinhead stage and knocked about with that weirdo Ben Bloggs. Thankfully the lad had changed beyond recognition. He now worked with Vinny in the Holborn club and had proved himself to be an asset to the business, with an astute brain on him.
It was as well for Little Vinny that neither his father nor his grandmother had any idea that he’d done more than act up a bit and run wild during his teenage years. And there was no way Sammi-Lou would be happily making wedding plans if she knew she was marrying a child killer. And God help Little Vinny if his father ever found out that the three-year-old he’d throttled to death was his own little sister.
Michael
