Читать книгу Queens of Crime: 3-Book Thriller Collection - Kimberley Chambers, Jacqui Rose, Jacqui Rose - Страница 28

After a sleepless night in which she must have finally dozed off for an hour or two, Brenda woke up feeling nauseous then dashed to the toilet to be violently sick. When she opened the bathroom door planning to crawl back to bed, she was confronted with her mum leaning against the wall outside, her face like thunder.

‘I think me and you need to have a little chat, young lady, don’t you?’ Queenie said, folding her arms in a stern manner.

Brenda nodded sheepishly, then promptly burst into tears.

‘No point bastard-well crying after the horse has bolted, Bren, and don’t lie to me ’cause I know all the signs. Now, who is the fucking father?’ Queenie spat.

‘If I tell you, will you promise me you won’t tell my brothers? It wasn’t a fling, Mum. I’m not a slag. He was my boyfriend,’ Brenda wept.

Queenie was struggling to hold her temper, but knew she had to get the important information out of Brenda before she let fly at her. ‘Just tell me who he is, love, then we’ll sort it out from there.’

Relieved that her mother seemed to be taking the news so well, Brenda decided to come clean. ‘It’s Dean. Dean Smart. I haven’t told him yet. He dumped me for another girl last month,’ she admitted.

At the mention of the surname Smart, Queenie felt her pulse-rate shoot through the roof. Unable to stop herself, she let her hands do the talking with repetitive slaps. ‘You stupid little fucker! How could you even think of getting involved with a Smart when you know how much this family hates that revolting mob? You ain’t a true Butler, girl. We are loyal to the core, but not you, you take after that shitbag of a father of yours. Now, get in your bedroom, before I kick you from arsehole to breakfast time.’

Feeling incredibly sorry for herself, Brenda let out a loud wail and did exactly as she was told.

Because he worked nights and there was no way he could invite Nancy to his club now, Michael had devised a rota where he got to spend a few hours with her every day. Firstly, he would meet her at work and spend her lunch break with her. Then, he would pick her up when she had finished, so he managed to grab a couple of hours with her before he started work.

Because it was stifling hot, instead of going to the café like they usually did, Michael had made a packed lunch so they could sit in the sun and eat it.

‘Are you OK? You’re not your usual chatterbox self,’ Nancy remarked, holding Michael’s arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Michael put down his sandwich and kissed his girlfriend on the lips. ‘I’m OK, babe. Just got one or two things on my mind.’

‘What? You’re not having second thoughts about us, are you?’

‘Don’t be daft. I’m not worried about us, babe. It’s my dad.’

Nancy listened intently while Michael explained about his dad turning up at the club, his illness, and the fall-out between Albie and the rest of the family. ‘You have to forgive your dad, Michael, and visit him. Why don’t you go and see your mum on your own, tell her how you are really feeling. I’m sure she will listen to you,’ Nancy advised.

Amazed by his girlfriend’s maturity and thoughtfulness, Michael put both arms around her and held her tightly to his chest. Nancy was the girl for him, he was sure of it.

When their mum rang up the club and summoned them to get to her house as soon as possible, Vinny and Roy guessed she had come to a decision about whether she was going to allow their father back into their lives, or not.

‘I’m glad you made your mind up quickly, Mum. It’s this afternoon I told him to ring back,’ Roy said, walking into the lounge.

Queenie looked confused. ‘What the bleedin’ hell you going on about?’

‘Me dad,’ Roy replied.

‘Oh, I ain’t even had time to think about that old goat yet. We’ve got far more on our plates than him to worry about at the moment, ain’t we, Viv? Lenny, take Little Vinny out to play,’ Queenie ordered.

When her sulky nephew had stomped out of the house dragging her grandson behind him, Queenie ordered her sons to sit down on the sofa. ‘It’s your sister. She’s got herself in the family way,’ she explained bluntly.

‘She’s fucking what? Where is she? I’ll kill her,’ Vinny said, leaping up like a jack-in-the-box.

‘No, you won’t. You leave her to me. I need yous boys to deal with the little bastard who has sewn his seed in her. Can you do that for me?’

‘Who is he, Mum? We’ll sort it,’ Roy said.

‘Well, you ain’t gonna like this but she is up the spout by Mad Freda’s grandson, Dean. She ain’t even with him now, but reckons she was in a relationship with him. He don’t know she’s in the club. Dumped our Bren last month in favour of another girl, apparently.’

‘Did he really? Well, me and Vin will have to pay him a little visit, won’t we, bruv?’ Roy said.

Vinny was deep in thought. Terry Smart hated him with a passion, so did his old bat of a mother. Neither would be happy if he visited young Dean and forced him to make an honest woman out of his sister. That would be the payback of all paybacks.

‘I hope you give him a bloody good hiding, boys. She can’t have the baby. Not by a Smart,’ Vivian declared.

‘Well, I ain’t having my grandchild aborted,’ Queenie argued, glaring at her sister.

‘Bren can’t keep a Smart baby, can she, Vin?’ Roy urged, wishing his brother would have a bit more input into the conversation. Apart from proposing to Colleen, Roy had always been indecisive when making big decisions.

Vinny smiled. He had heard good things about young Dean Smart. The lad might only be eighteen, but he had recently got away with a robbery at a post office at Stratford, so for someone so young, Dean was obviously no man’s fool. Brenda wasn’t the brightest bird on earth and she could do a lot worse than Dean. Pissing off Terry and Freda in the process was just an added bonus. It was a case of every cloud having a silver lining. ‘I’ll go and speak to young Dean. He’ll stand by our Bren and make an honest woman of her, I’ll make sure of it.’

Roy was furious. ‘You can’t marry her off to a Smart.’

Vinny stared at his mother and aunt. There seemed to be no further objections from either of them, so he continued. ‘Oh, yes I can. Our Bren will not darken the name of this family. If she’s old enough to hawk her mutton and get herself in the family way, then she’s old enough to be married. Brenda has made her own bed, and now she can fucking well lie on it.’

Unaware of the drama unfolding less than five minutes away, Albie was currently enjoying a pint in his old local, the Blind Beggar. The pub hadn’t changed that much since his last visit, and even though there were quite a lot of new faces dotted about, there were still a few of the old regulars too.

‘Christ almighty! Albie Butler, I thought that was you. Blimey, it’s been years since I’ve seen you around this neck of the woods. How you doing?’ Big Stan asked, plonking himself on the seat next to Albie.

Albie put down his Sporting Life. Big Stan only lived five doors away from Queenie, so Albie had no alternative but to tell him about his cancer.

‘Crikey, that’s awful, mate. Can they cure it, like?’ Big Stan asked.

Feeling a tad guilty at Stan’s obvious concern, Albie shook his head. Part of him wished that he hadn’t made up such an awful lie, but now he had told Roy, there was no going back. It had been pure desperation that had forced Albie to invent such a fib in the first place. Pauline had kicked him out, his money was running out fast, so what was a man to do? Also, there wasn’t a day that had gone by since leaving Whitechapel where Albie hadn’t thought of his children. He had missed Michael the most, as he was the one he had been the closest to. He also missed Brenda, being the only girl.

The only people in his family that Albie still harboured a grudge against were Queenie and that old bat of a sister of hers. Between them, they had slowly pushed him out of the family circle. Then, by bringing the boys up in the way they had, they had created a monstrosity.

‘So, where is the cancer, Albie? Has it spread all over, like?’ Big Stan asked, snapping Albie out of his daydream.

‘Don’t know yet. It’s in me stomach somewhere and I’ve got to have more tests done next week,’ Albie replied.

‘Such a shame, mate. I thought you looked ill when I saw you. Didn’t even recognize you at first.’

Thinking what a cheerful bastard Stan was, and wishing he would sod off so he could work out the horses for his accumulator, Albie picked up his empty pint glass. ‘I would offer to buy you a drink, mate, but money’s a bit tight at the moment, if you know what I mean? I’ve been that ill, I haven’t grafted for ages.’

‘You sit yourself back down, Albie. The drinks are on me, mate. ’Ere, put that in your pocket as well,’ Stan said, chucking a screwed-up five-pound note on the table.

When Big Stan went up the bar to get the drinks, Albie couldn’t help but smirk. Being on death’s door certainly had its advantages.

Queenie was mopping the kitchen floor when Michael let himself into her house. All her boys still had their own keys, and came and went as they pleased.

‘Hello, son. You spoke to your brothers yet? Have they told you the news?’

When he shook his head, Queenie made a brew, sat Michael down, then explained all about Brenda’s pregnancy, and what the family had decided to do about it.

Michael listened attentively, then surprised Queenie by agreeing with Vinny’s idea.

‘Well, Roy and Vivvy don’t agree. They both think we shouldn’t have a Smart in the family. Viv even suggested she had an abortion. I won’t allow that, Michael. Whether that child is a Smart or not, it’s still my grandchild.’

‘I’ll go with Vinny to speak to Dean Smart. Mum, can I ask you for a favour?’

‘Of course. What is it, Michael?’

‘I want you to speak to my dad, and permit me to do the same. You don’t have to truly forgive him in your heart, just be polite if you can. He’s a prick, I know that, but whatever he is, he’s still part of me, my brothers and Bren. If he weren’t dying, I wouldn’t ask you to do this for me.’

Thinking how mature her Michael had become all of a sudden, Queenie gave him a motherly hug. She would do anything to make her boys happy, absolutely anything. ‘All right, we’ll both see the old bastard together and I promise I will be as polite as I can, OK?’

Michael smiled broadly. ‘Thanks, Mum. You’re a real star.’

Dean Smart and his pals drank in the Black Horse in the Mile End Road, and when Vinny and Michael Butler walked in, the pub immediately fell so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

Dean wasn’t a scaredy-cat by any stretch of the imagination, but seeing the menacing look on Vinny and Michael’s faces, he could have kicked himself for ever getting involved with Brenda Butler.

It was Michael that finally ended the awkward silence. ‘We need a quiet word with you,’ he said, gesticulating towards the door.

Feeling more nervous than he ever had during the robberies he had pulled off, Dean followed the Butler brothers outside the pub. ‘Look, if this is about Brenda, we finished on good terms. I do have another girlfriend now, but I swear I weren’t seeing her when I was seeing Bren,’ Dean gabbled.

‘No! I think you meant to say that you used to have another girlfriend,’ Michael said, pushing Dean against a nearby wall.

‘Look, I’m sorry about dating your sister, but I really did like her. I only ended it because I was frightened of your family and my family finding out. I didn’t want it to cause World War Three. I would have stayed with Bren other than that, I swear I would,’ Dean stated.

‘Well, that’s nice to hear, isn’t it, Michael?’ Vinny said, grinning at his brother.

‘Yep, sure is,’ Michael replied in an equally jovial tone. He was thoroughly enjoying watching Dean Smart squirm. Served the little bastard right for taking such liberties.

‘What you doing? I swear I won’t go near Brenda again. On my nan’s life I won’t,’ Dean croaked, when Vinny grabbed him around the neck and began squeezing his windpipe.

Unable to stop himself from giving Dean the knee of all knees in the bollocks, Vinny said what he had come here to say. ‘You will go near my sister again, boy. Dipping your wick without protection has now mapped your life out for you, unfortunately. I will arrange the wedding a.s.a.p., and you will be a good husband to my sister and an even better father to your unborn child. Now, do we understand one another?’

Learning that he was about to become not only a father but also a husband was all too much for young Dean to take in and when Vinny let go of his throat, he slid down the wall and slumped onto the pavement.

‘Well, answer my brother, then,’ Michael ordered, giving Dean a sharp kick in the ribs.

Dean knew when he was beaten. His dad was a wannabe gangster, but had never achieved much in his life, and seeing as he was the only boy in the family, he had no proper back-up. When Vinny grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to his feet again, Dean held his palms upright as if to surrender his fate. ‘I understand, OK?’

Smirking, Vinny ruffled the boy’s long hair. ‘Sensible lad you are, Dean. Now, let’s have a proper family discussion about the wedding tomorrow, eh? Meet us round my mother’s house about twoish.’

Wanting to cry, Dean took a deep breath and instead nodded miserably.

‘And try and put a smile on your face before you arrive. Our Brenda won’t wanna see you with a face like your cat’s just been run over by a bus,’ Michael added.

Vinny chuckled. Michael had excelled himself in his eyes today, and he was dead proud of his little brother’s wit and attitude. Vinny unlocked the car door, then took one last look at Dean’s shell-shocked face. ‘Oh, and Dean, I need you to do one more thing for me.’

‘What?’

‘Get that fucking hair cut before you meet your future mother-in-law. You wanna make a good impression, don’t you now?’