Читать книгу Payback - Kimberley Chambers - Страница 8

On the morning of her son and nephew’s funerals, Queenie was woken up by the sound of torrential rain pounding against her window. ‘Poxy bastard weather,’ she mumbled as she pulled back the curtain. Funerals were miserable enough occasions at the best of times, but there was nothing worse than standing at a graveside in the rain.

Queenie Butler marched into her daughter’s bedroom and yanked the blankets from over her head. It was nine days since Brenda’s husband had left her. Dean had gone out for a newspaper one morning and had not come back. It had since come to light that he had cleaned out his bank account that very day. Unable to face life as a one-parent family, Brenda had moved into Queenie’s with her four-year-old daughter Tara. Both were high maintenance and loved a tantrum, and Queenie just wished they would sod off home.

‘Out of that pit and get yourself ready – and don’t forget to wear your cross,’ Queenie ordered. She and Vivian loved their gold, and always wore their big gold crosses supported by thick belcher chains for funerals, weddings and christenings in hope of impressing the vicar.

‘I don’t feel well, Mum. I feel sick again. Can’t I stay here and look after Tara?’

Brenda had only had her pregnancy confirmed by the doctor the previous day. Dean had really left her in the lurch and if Queenie ever got her hands on her son-in-law, she would wring his scrawny neck.

‘Don’t give me all that old flannel. You get your arse out that bed now, and make yourself look tidy. Not attend your own brother and cousin’s funerals? Never heard such cobblers in my life. Selfish little mare you are, Brenda. Well, today isn’t about you, it’s about Roy and Lenny, and if you don’t do me proud, I shall disown you.’

About to run a bath, Queenie heard a noise outside and looked out of the window again. ‘What the bleedin’ hell’s she doing now?’ she muttered. Vivian was dragging what looked like Lenny’s bedside cabinet up the garden path, and making quite a racket as she did so.

Putting on her shoes and coat, Queenie ran downstairs and out the front door. ‘Whatever are you doing? It’s not even six o’clock yet. You’ll wake the neighbours up, and you’ll catch pneumonia in this weather.’

‘I’m putting Lenny’s stuff out for the dustmen. Not going to be needing it any more, is he?’

Queenie stared at her sister. When they had first learned about Lenny’s death, Vivian had cried and wailed like an injured animal, but since then she had shown hardly any emotion. She had barely mentioned the funeral and Queenie found it very odd that she wanted to chuck all the poor little sod’s belongings away. There was no way she could part with anything of her Roy’s. ‘Viv, there’ll be flowers arriving soon. Leave sorting out Lenny’s belongings until after the funeral. If you still want to get rid of them, I’ll get one of the boys to take the stuff to the dump for you.’

‘I wish you’d stop telling me what to fucking do, Queen,’ Vivian spat, dumping two cardboard boxes full of toys next to her sister’s feet.

Queenie looked down and immediately felt a lump in her throat. Zippy the monkey had been Lenny’s favourite toy. He had carried it everywhere with him as a kid, and had always slept with it in his bed until the day he died. Queenie picked the toy up. No way was she going to allow her sister to throw that away. It should be buried with Lenny.

Michael was shocked to receive an early morning phone call from his wife. It was the first time they had spoken since Nancy had been taken into hospital. She had wandered out one evening in her nightdress and slippers and had been found by a man in an alleyway the following morning. The doctors had suggested that Nancy’s odd behaviour could be down to post-natal depression, but seeing as Adam was now two, Michael found that hard to understand.

‘Nance, I’ve really missed you, babe. The boys had a great time yesterday and were full of it when they came home. They didn’t stop talking about their granddad, so I take it it all went well?’

‘Yes, it went very well. My dad adored them, and I’m ever so pleased. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. How are you? I was so sorry to hear about your brother and Lenny. When are their funerals?’

‘Today. Will you come with me, Nance? My mum and aunt are both in a dreadful way and I could really do with your support.’

Nancy sighed. She had only just started to feel like her old self again, and didn’t fancy spending time with Michael’s family yet. Vinny had a way of making her feel anxious, and Brenda would be bound to kick off with her over Dean going away. ‘I’m sorry, Michael, but I don’t feel up to attending funerals. I will look after the boys for you though. Mum said you were taking them with you and I’d rather you didn’t. They’re far too young to be surrounded by death.’

Michael was cross. He had cared for his sons almost single-handed these past couple of months. It also hurt him that Nancy had only called because she had wanted to have Daniel and Adam for the day. Did she not love him any more? Was their marriage over? Well, there was only one way to find out. An ultimatum should do the trick. ‘Nance, I cannot believe what you just said. “I will look after the boys for you” – have you forgotten you’re their mother? Look, I know you’ve been ill and I sympathize with that, but now you’re feeling better, you need to have a think about us. I’ll give you a week to get your arse back home, and if you don’t, I shall start divorce proceedings. Our sons are unsettled enough as it is at the moment and I won’t allow you to keep fucking them about. They miss you, I miss you, and you should be back at home where you belong. You can’t hide behind your parents for ever. As for the funeral, the boys are coming with me, end of. It’s not fair on Lee if they don’t.’

‘I’m sorry I’ve been a bad mum and wife, but I have been really ill,’ Nancy replied, her voice full of emotion.

‘No, you haven’t been ill, Nance, you’ve been depressed. Two different things, so my mum reckons. Don’t you think I get depressed too? My cousin has just been beheaded in a car crash, Roy has blown his brains out, and I’m currently trying to run a business and bring up three kids on my own. Do you wanna swap fucking places? Listen, I’ve got to go now. I need to get round my mum’s and the boys haven’t had any breakfast yet. I meant what I said though, Nance. You’ve got a week to make up your mind, or we’re finished.’

Joanna Preston held Vinny’s arm as they strode towards Queenie’s house. It had been her boyfriend’s idea that she ring her mum this morning. He had said that her eighteenth birthday was as good a time as any to try and patch things up. He’d also insisted she tell her mum that she was pregnant.

‘You OK? Shame your mum went off on one, but she will come round in time you know,’ Vinny said. He had been dying for Johnny Preston to find out that he had got his daughter up the spout. Deborah was bound to tell him the news, and Vinny only wished he could be there to see the look on the bastard’s face.

‘Are all these people here for the funeral, Vinny?’ Joanna asked, as they turned the corner. There was a crowd of about a hundred or so.

‘Yeah, must be. Bit early they are, though. I hope they haven’t knocked on my mum’s door. I told them to leave her be,’ Vinny replied. His mother had insisted that, apart from family, she wanted nobody inside the house.

The flowers spread across his mum and aunt’s front gardens brought a lump to Vinny’s throat. The wreath he had chosen, with ‘Champ’ spelled out, was that big it literally shone out like a beacon.

Little Vinny was ten years old and with his black hair and piercing green eyes it was like looking at his father at the same age. Unfortunately for Queenie, her grandson had picked up many of Vinny’s traits. He was obstinate, had a temper on him, and once he got a bee in his bonnet, there was very little reasoning with the child.

‘I’ll say this once more, Vinny. Get upstairs and put your suit on before I brain ya. I really don’t need you performing today, boy. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.’

When Little Vinny didn’t move out of the armchair, Queenie was moving in to give him a good clout round the earhole when she heard the front door open and close. ‘About bloody time too. I’ve had all them nosy bastards out there knocking on the door, and now your son reckons he isn’t coming to the funeral,’ Queenie told Vinny.

Ordering Joanna to keep his mum company in the kitchen, Vinny walked into the lounge and shut the door. ‘What’s the matter, boy?’

‘Don’t like funerals. They remind me of my mum dying.’

Vinny crouched next to his son. Little Vinny had barely known his mother. Karen had been a stripper at the club when she’d fallen pregnant by Vinny. He’d paid her off and brought his son up with the help of his mum. When Little Vinny was five, Karen had turned up on his doorstep like a bad penny. He’d had her done away with, ordering that her murder be made to look like a heroin overdose. ‘Look, boy, I know you aren’t happy about me being with Joanna and her being pregnant, but I bet once your brother or sister is born, you’ll be in your element.’

‘No, I won’t. I hate babies,’ Little Vinny replied, his lip protruding sulkily.

‘But it won’t stay a baby for long. It will soon be old enough for you to talk to and take out. I remember sulking when your nan fell pregnant with Roy. I wanted to be the only kid. When Roy was born, I soon grew to love him – and you’ll be the same when Jo’s baby is born. You’re my first-born, Vinny, and you’re always going to be more special to me than any other kid.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. I’ve always been closer to Nanny than Roy, Michael or Brenda were, and that’s because I was her first-born. Number one son you are, boy. Very special that is.’

When Little Vinny grinned, Vinny ruffled his hair. ‘Now, go and put your suit on.’

Vivian Harris took one last look inside Lenny’s old bedroom and shut the door. It looked bare and cold now, just like her heart felt. The dustmen must have taken away his stuff because she’d looked out of the window an hour ago and it was gone. A mass of flowers had replaced her son’s belongings.

Hearing voices outside, Vivian peeked through the curtain again. ‘Nosy fucking bastards. Go away and leave me alone,’ she muttered. She had only ever been interested in her family. In her eyes, nobody else mattered.

Aware that somebody was staring up at her, Viv jumped away from the curtain. She poured herself another brandy and lay down on her bed. As soon as her pest of a sister left for the funeral, she planned to fall asleep and never wake up. Lenny needed her, he always had, and she was determined to be there in heaven for him. That’s if the bastard place existed, of course.

When Michael arrived, Queenie Butler battled her way through the well-wishing mourners to get to her sister’s house. Vivian had insisted on being left alone earlier and had promised she would knock at Queenie’s as soon as the coffins arrived. She hadn’t. Queenie put her key in the door, but the chain was on. ‘Viv, it’s me. Let me in.’

When she still received no reply, Queenie started to get angry. ‘Vivvy, open this bastard door now,’ she yelled.

Aware of Nosy Hilda and Mouthy Maureen staring at her, Queenie pushed past the gawping mourners and marched back to her own house. ‘Vinny, you’re going to have to do something. Viv’s locked herself in and she won’t answer the door. It’s all your fault for fitting that poxy chain lock, so best you sort it. What with your sister and son, I’ve had enough drama for one day.’

Vinny snatched the key off his mum, then darted next door. ‘Auntie Viv, come and take this lock off please. We have to leave soon, the cars are here.’

After five minutes of begging his aunt to answer the door and receiving no reply, Vinny took a couple of steps back and booted the door open. He looked in the lounge first, then ran up the stairs.

‘Go away and leave me alone,’ Vivian screamed when her bedroom door flew open.

‘What you doing, still in bed? We have to leave in a minute. Why aren’t you dressed?’ Vinny asked.

‘Because I ain’t coming. Nothing is going to bring my Lenny back. Why would I want all them nosy cunts out there gawping at me, revelling in my misfortune?’

Clocking the bottle of brandy on Vivian’s bedside cabinet, Vinny sighed. Only his mother could sort this one out and she was going to go apeshit when she found out Viv was sloshed. He ran back to his mum’s, drew her aside and told her, ‘Viv reckons she isn’t coming to the funeral. She’s still in bed and she’s slurring. I think she’s pissed.’

Queenie Butler was out the door like a bat out of hell. Her black hat flew off in a gust of wind as she ran down the path, but she did not stop to retrieve it. First Brenda playing up, then her grandson and now Vivvy. Did the selfish bastards not realize that she was grieving too?

‘Is everything all right, Queenie?’ asked Nosy Hilda.

‘Mind your own fucking business for once,’ Queenie snapped, barging past her open-mouthed neighbour. She ran up her sister’s stairs and into the bedroom. ‘You are going to the funeral even if I have to drag you there. Now, get your arse out of bed and get a grip woman.’

‘I can’t face it, Queen. My Lenny knew I loved him, so did Roy. I don’t have to go to no funeral to prove that to anyone.’

Queenie ripped the blankets off her sister just as she had with her daughter earlier. ‘Now, you listen to me, Vivian Harris. Get out of that bed and get yourself dressed. It’s unheard of in our neck of the woods for a woman to miss her own child’s funeral – and may God be my judge, you ain’t gonna be the first. We’re the talk of the town as it is, what with Vinny having to kick your front door in. I will not have our boys’ funerals become a laughing stock, not on your nelly. Now, up you bloody well get.’

Albie Butler could feel his heart beating like a drum as he approached St Leonard’s church. He hadn’t spoken to Vinny since his son had threatened to kill him and he was also on bad terms with Queenie and Viv. Even his daughter and eldest grandson hated his guts.

‘What’s up, Albie?’ Bert asked, when his brother stopped in his tracks.

‘Let’s wait here. Big Stan is standing outside the church and I know he’ll kick off if he sees me. I told him I had cancer that time and he bought me drinks and bunged me money,’ Albie explained, truly regretting his terrible lie. He had only told his family and neighbours he had cancer so he could have contact with his children again. His deceit had backfired though. Vinny had found out and tried to blackmail him, and when Albie refused to get involved in his son’s evil plan to ruin Roy’s engagement, Vinny had outed his lie in front of half of Whitechapel.

‘The funeral cars have arrived by the looks of it, Albie. Let’s go and find your Michael. He won’t allow anybody to have a go at you.’

Albie still had a good relationship with his youngest son. When Vinny had forced him to leave the East End, it was Michael who had driven him down to Ipswich to start his new life. Moving in with Bert had been a blessing. Albie had cut down his drinking and really sorted his life out. He had even met a lovely lady. Dorothy now lived with him and Bert and she was an absolute diamond. She treated him with far more respect than Queenie ever had. His marriage to Queenie had been doomed as soon as she had fallen pregnant. From the moment Vinny was born, Vivian had taken over his husbandly duties and he had been pushed out of the family circle like an unwanted bag of old rubbish.

‘Dad, I’ve spoken to Mum and Vinny and they’ve agreed that it’s only right you sit in the front pew with us,’ Michael said, hugging his worried-looking father.

‘Thank you, Michael.’ Albie’s eyes filled up with tears and he was too choked to say more. He had loved Roy and was so glad his son had taken the trouble to phone him before ending his life. Their conversation had been relatively short, but bridges had been built, truths had been told, and that meant the world to Albie.

The actual service was a far cry from the typical East End funeral. Both Queenie and Vivian regularly visited their mother’s grave and spoke to her as though she were still alive, but neither was particularly religious. Their lives and luck had taken far too much of a bashing for them to truly believe in God. When the vicar had visited her at home to make arrangements, Queenie had insisted that the pianist play songs rather than hymns.

‘Bye Bye Blackbird’ was the song she had sung to all her children to get them to sleep when they were babies, so seeing as her Roy was now asleep for ever, it seemed an appropriate choice. Lenny was a big Elvis fan, so Queenie had chosen ‘The Wonder of You’ especially for her nephew. Vivian had been in no fit state to have any input into the playlist, but Queenie was sure her sister would have opted for the same song, as it had been Lenny’s all-time favourite. ‘On Mother Kelly’s Doorstep’ was Queenie’s final request. Both she and Vivian loved that song and had taught it to their offspring, so Queenie saw it as a fitting family tribute.

Vinny locked eyes with his father as he sat down in the pew and gave him a polite nod. Michael had agreed to cover up that it was Vinny who had been driving the night Lenny was killed on condition that he promised to make things right with their dad. Roy had requested the same thing in his suicide note, and Vinny knew he owed it to his brothers to abide by their wishes.

‘Today we are here to remember the lives of Roy Butler and Leonard William Harris,’ the vicar’s voice boomed.

Squeezing Vivian’s hand, Queenie glanced down the pew. Albie, Vinny, Michael and Little Vinny all had tears rolling down their cheeks. Roy’s ex-fiancée and her parents were seated in the opposite pew. Colleen was sobbing, but Queenie was annoyed with her. Roy’s only child, Emily-Mae, was four now and she had wanted the girl to attend her father’s funeral but Colleen had rebuffed the request. Queenie hadn’t seen her granddaughter since Colleen had returned to her native Ireland, and she had been desperate to tell the child what a wonderful man her daddy was.

‘God! What fucking God?’ Vivian muttered as the vicar began sermonizing about the afterlife.

‘Shush, Viv. Your voice carries and people can hear you,’ Queenie whispered.

‘Couldn’t give a toss what people think. No God would have taken my boy from me. That’s how I know he don’t fucking exist.’

When the pianist played ‘The Wonder of You’, Vivian’s anger turned to anguish. ‘My baby. My beautiful boy. Mummy loved you so much, Lenny. You were my world.’

Vinny bowed his head when the vicar recited the Lord’s Prayer. He had begged his brother to give a eulogy on behalf of the family, but Michael had flatly refused. ‘Accidental or not, both Roy and Champ would still be alive if it wasn’t for your mistakes, Vin. The least you owe them is to stand up, be a man, and say a few words,’ had been Michael’s blunt reply.

After the prayer, the vicar called Vinny up to speak. Feeling physically sick, he took the piece of paper out of his pocket and glanced at the sea of faces all staring his way. The church was packed to the brim. ‘My brother Roy and cousin Champ were two of the nicest people you could ever wish to meet. Both had a wicked sense of humour, especially Champ, who would have me in hysterics every day with his off-the-cuff one-liners and jokes.’

Knowing he was about to mug himself off by crying, Vinny paused. As he took a deep breath to try and compose himself, he locked eyes with Ahmed and knew he could not continue. Guilt would not allow him to do so. ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry,’ Vinny said, handing the piece of paper to the vicar.

When her tearful son sat back down, Queenie bravely stood up. ‘I would like to say a few words and I don’t need no piece of paper.’

She turned to face the mourners. ‘Roy and Lenny’s passing has left a huge gap in all our lives, but instead of being morbid, I want to share with you some of the good times. Roy was a finicky little sod as a kid, would never eat his vegetables. I tried the old clout-round-the-earhole routine and, when that didn’t work, I threatened to put him in the orphanage. Soon ate his greens after that, he did.’

Queenie paused as the mourners chuckled. She then went on to tell other funny stories about her son, before reverting to a serious tone of voice. ‘The happiest I had ever seen my Roy was when he met Colleen. Loved the bones of her, he did, and I am so glad they had a beautiful daughter together. In Emily-Mae, part of my Roy will always live on, and that is a great comfort to me. Due to his injuries, my son was not happy in the latter part of his life and I like to think he is in a better place now, God rest his soul.’

‘And I hope he’s looking after my Lenny for me,’ a sobbing Vivian shouted out.

‘Of course he is, Vivvy. You can be assured of that. Which brings me to Lenny. Such a wonderful boy, whose smile could light up a room. Never stopped laughing, that lad. I bet he’s looking down on me now, begging me to tell some funny stories about him. Well, Champ – as my boys liked to call him – was a brilliant little DJ, but he would drive me and his mother mad at home by continuously playing rock ’n’ roll. Thought he was Mr Presley himself, the little toerag did, and I bet as soon as God opens those pearly gates, Lenny’s first question to the big man above will be, “Where’s Elvis?”’

Aware that all her family were crying yet laughing at the same time, Queenie continued: ‘Another of Lenny’s bad habits was he used to flop his dingle-dangle out in public. Vivvy used to get so embarrassed and Lenny would look at me with a twinkle in his eye and I knew he only did it to wind his mother up. Used to flash at people he did not like, so if anybody here today had the misfortune of coming face to face with Lenny’s dingle-dangle, sorry, but you obviously was not one of my nephew’s favourite people.’

Queenie told two more funny stories, then wrapped her speech up by saying, ‘Rest in peace, Roy and Lenny. Your family loved you both very much.’

The service came to a close with ‘On Mother Kelly’s Doorstep’ and it was then that Queenie finally broke down. She had tried to be so strong for the sake of her sister and family, but the tears she had been storing seemed to all flow out at once.

Vinny held his mother close to his chest. Her shoulders were hunched like those of a much older woman, and it was as though she had aged ten years in the past ten days. All he could do was stroke her hair and tell her, ‘I know it’s terribly sad, Mum, but Roy will be happier in heaven, I know he will.’

Michael was the first to notice the criminal element amongst the mourners. As he left the church, he tapped Vinny on the shoulder. ‘Lots of faces here, bruv. I’ve just spotted the Mitchells, and I’m sure I saw David Fraser as well.’

The Mitchell firm, led by Harry Mitchell, were out of Canning Town. Harry’s three sons, Paulie, Ronny and Eddie worked alongside him in the pub protection racket, and over the years they had built up a fearsome reputation in the East End.

David Fraser was not a man to be messed with either. Son of Mad Frankie, who was currently banged up at Her Majesty’s pleasure, David came from south of the water. ‘That’s Sid the Snake who David is talking to. I know him quite well. You go and find the Mitchells, Michael, thank them for coming and invite them to the wake. I’ll do the same with David and Sid,’ Vinny ordered.

‘Vinny, why you faffing about here? We don’t want to keep the vicar waiting at the graveside,’ Queenie scolded. She had been bowled over by the wonderful flower arrangements Roy and Lenny had received. There had been hundreds of people standing in front of her house and a big crowd outside the club as the undertaker had walked in front of her dearly departed on their final journey.

‘You go ahead with Auntie Viv, Mum. Michael and I just need to speak to a few people, then we’ll follow.’

‘Well, don’t be too long. As I told you this morning, I expect this to be the perfect send-off.’

The moment the congregation reached the cemetery, Queenie’s wish for the perfect funeral was ruined.

It had been decided that Roy and Lenny would be buried side by side in Plaistow – Bow Cemetery having stopped burials a while back, thus scuppering Queenie and Vivian’s wish to have their sons buried close to their beloved mother. Among the mourners waiting for the cortege to arrive was Ahmed.

When Vivian spotted him, she stopped dead in her tracks. Ahmed was chatting to a couple of men, casually smoking a cigarette as if he didn’t have a care in the world. ‘Who invited that murdering bastard? I’ll kill him! I will bastard-well kill him,’ she screamed as she ran towards him.

‘Ruined our lives, you have. Broken our hearts!’ Queenie shouted, joining Vivian in throwing punches at the man they blamed for Lenny’s death.

Humiliated because the Mitchells were standing nearby, Vinny grabbed hold of his mother and ordered Michael to restrain Vivian. ‘Ahmed loved Lenny, and he wanted to say farewell to him. What happened was an accident, Mum.’

‘Accident! An accident! I’ll give you fucking accident, sticking up for that murdering Turkish cunt,’ Queenie yelled, slapping her son repeatedly around his stupid head.

‘Ahmed, I think it’s best you leave now. This is meant to be a funeral and it’s turning into a circus,’ Michael said, aware that everybody including the vicar was gawping.

‘Let me at him! Let me at the evil murdering shitbag!’ Vivian shrieked, desperately trying to shrug off her nephew’s grip.

Ahmed held his hands up in surrender. ‘I wanted to pay my respects, but I shall leave now. I am sorry if I have upset anybody.’

With Vivian and Queenie still shouting obscenities in the background, Ahmed turned up the collar of his black Crombie coat and slowly walked away, smirking to himself.

Things went from bad to worse as the vicar said a few words after both coffins had been lowered into the ground.

‘What’s that? What you just thrown in my boy’s grave?’ Vivian hissed, prodding her sister’s arm.

‘Zippy the monkey. He loved that toy and you put it out for the dustmen. I thought it should be buried with him, Viv. It was always his comfort thingy.’

‘Noooo! You can’t bury Zippy! I want him. I want to keep him,’ Vivian shrieked. Shoving the vicar out of the way, she literally threw herself on top of her son’s coffin.

As every single mourner present stood frozen, open-mouthed, Queenie was the first to react. ‘Do something, Vinny. Get her out of that hole,’ she screamed.

Dutifully obeying his mother’s orders, Vinny wished the hole could be filled with earth with him in it. His brother and cousin’s expensive farewell had turned into a joke. One that the East End and criminal fraternity would dine out on for years.