Payback (24 page)
‘Sit down, son. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just worried because I love you, that’s all,’ Albie said. The look in Michael’s eyes reminded him of Vinny and he did not care for that one bit.
Michael knocked back his brandy, sat down and slammed the glass against the coffee table. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I’m not angry with you and I am glad you told me what Vinny said, because I swear to you, hand on heart, I will never touch a drug again. It’s him I’m pissed off with, that wonderful loyal brother of mine. He still thinks I’m some wet-behind-the-ears kid who lives in his shadow, but I’m not. Does he honestly look in the mirror and see Saint Fucking Vinny staring back? Because I don’t and neither do you. He’s a cunt and he ain’t mugging me off no more.’
Queenie Butler put the tray of drinks on the table and waved at her grandchildren. Kings had a marvellous children’s entertainer called Charlie Case, and he organized different games, activities and competitions on a daily basis. Of an evening, Charlie would act as bingo caller and compere in the clubhouse. ‘Poxy weather today for August, but it don’t matter to the little ’uns, does it?’
‘No. They’re having a whale of a time. Look at Adam dancing. He’s so cute,’ Nancy replied.
Joanna chuckled. ‘Molly’s wiggling her hips now as well, look.’
‘Aw, bless their little hearts,’ Queenie said, her face beaming with pride. She loved nothing more than when Jo and Nancy brought the kids down to Kings. It was just a shame Vinny and Michael didn’t accompany them more often to make her happiness complete.
‘Where’s Viv?’ Nancy asked.
‘Gone in them bleedin’ amusements again. Got the hots for that Mike, and she’s addicted to them two-and-ten-pence fall machines. She stands there watching until the kids run out of money, then she pushes the poor little sods out the way when the coins look ready to drop.’
When Joanna and Nancy both laughed, Queenie decided they looked relaxed enough to be able to answer a few questions. She’d had no joy when she had quizzed Vinny and Michael on the phone. Getting information out of those two was like trying to get blood out of a stone. ‘So lovely to see yous two looking happy and enjoying yourselves, ’cause I know things ain’t been great back at home. What’s going on, girls? You can trust me to keep me trap shut. I won’t tell the boys, I promise.’
Joanna glanced at Nancy. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Queenie. Do you, Nance?’
Queenie preferred a thief to a liar and there was no way she was being fobbed off that easily. ‘Look, you might as well tell me because I shall find out anyway. Gave birth to them men of yours, I did, and I know when something’s bleedin’ well wrong.’
‘Look, I’ll be honest, Queenie, Michael and I did go through a bit of a rough patch, but we’re back on track now,’ Nancy admitted.
‘Well, I’m glad to hear that. All marriages have their ups and downs. I should know, I married Albie,’ Queenie chuckled.
Joanna stood up. ‘Who wants another drink?’
‘Sit back down. We haven’t finished this conversation yet,’ Queenie ordered.
Joanna did as she was told and when Queenie started interrogating her, chose her words carefully. ‘Vinny and I have been going through a rough patch too. My dad’s up for parole and it has caused some friction.’
Having just taken a sip of her lager and lime, Queenie spat it back in the glass. Nine bastard years was all Johnny Preston had done in nick. Was that all her Roy’s life was worth?
Noticing that her mother-in-law’s complexion had turned a whiter shade of pale, Nancy asked Queenie if she was OK.
‘No. I’m having one of me funny turns. I’m going outside to get some fresh air.’
Vinny handed the money over to Richie and silently thanked whoever had invented Scotch for his hands not shaking.
Ahmed counted the kilo packages, weighed them, then tested one by piercing it with a penknife then tasting it. ‘This all looks in order. You want to check it, Vin?’
‘Nope. If you say it’s all right, it’s all right.’
Richie gave the money a swift count, then nodded. ‘OK, let’s part waves. Give us a bell if there’s any problems your end, and I’ll count this properly when I get home. I’ll bell you tomorrow if it’s not correct.’
When Ahmed shook Richie’s hand, Vinny did the same, then watched as Ahmed put the drugs inside the false bottom of the van. Richie had been insistent that the van driver wasn’t to know where his yard was, so Mohammed was sitting down the bottom of River Road in Ahmed’s car.
As soon as they’d swapped vehicles and hit the A13, Vinny felt a mixture of adrenalin and relief seep through his body.
‘You OK?’ Ahmed asked, as he swerved into the slow lane to stick close to the van.
Vinny laughed. ‘Yeah, I’m more than OK. In fact, once we’ve conducted our business duties for the day, how do you fancy going out and getting bladdered?’
Ahmed did not particularly feel like a wild night out, but the more normal he kept it, the less suspicious his business partner would be when he got arrested. ‘Let’s go up the West End for a change. I know a great club that’s just opened.’
Vinny grinned. ‘Yeah, why not.’
Alison Bloggs opened the front door and treated Little Vinny to a toothless grin. ‘Come in, boy. What you got in your bag? I’ll swap you a joint for some booze, if you want?’
Little Vinny took a bottle of strong cider out of the carrier bag and handed it to his pal’s mum. His dad had obviously been in a good mood earlier. Not only had he granted him permission to go out, he had also given him forty quid wages. ‘Is Ben upstairs?’
‘No. He’s popped to the quacks to pick up my methadone prescription. I lost the last one, if you know what I mean?’ Alison chuckled.
Little Vinny knew exactly what she meant. Alison was on more prescription drugs than anybody he knew and she was forever swapping or flogging her medicine to acquire her next hit of heroin. Ben told him everything.
When Alison grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the lounge, Little Vinny screwed his nose up. Unlike his own home that smelled of fresh flowers and air fresheners, Alison’s stank of piss, sick and cannabis. She ponged as well. An unwashed, musty smell, like she hadn’t bathed in weeks.
‘Go upstairs and play, you little fuckers,’ Alison screamed at her brood.
Little Vinny stared at Ben’s youngest sister. She was about Molly’s age, but instead of being dressed immaculately and having her hair in bunches like his spoilt little sister, poor Kylie was filthy dirty, running about naked, with bruises all over her body.
When the last of her children left the room, Alison slammed the lounge door shut, opened the bottle of cider, then sat down next to Little Vinny on the sofa. ‘Ben said you’re working at the club now. Is your old man paying you well?’
‘Me dad ain’t paid me sod all yet,’ Little Vinny lied. He knew what a ponce Alison was and if he admitted he had over thirty quid left in his pocket, she would probably barricade him in a cupboard until he agreed to hand it over.
Alison sparked up a joint, then gave it to Little Vinny. ‘Got yourself a bird yet, have ya?’
‘Er, no. Not yet.’
‘Nice-looking boy like you should have the girls queuing up,’ Alison replied, putting her grubby hand on Little Vinny’s leg.
Frozen through fear, Little Vinny could not move as Alison’s hand travelled towards his penis. As much as she repulsed him, he could feel himself becoming erect. When the front door slammed, Little Vinny felt relief wash over him as he leapt off the sofa.
‘Hello, Vin,’ Ben shrieked, chucking the prescription at his mother before giving his pal a boy-hug.
‘I bought us some cider. Let’s go to your room, Ben. I want to put my clobber on, then we’ll go out,’ Little Vinny gabbled. There was no way he would tell his friend what had just happened. Ben would be mortified.
Alison Bloggs chuckled as Little Vinny darted out of the lounge. If he was old enough to work at the club, then he was old enough to pay her for her services. Next time he visited and Ben wasn’t present, she would suck him off in exchange for a tenner.
Having recovered from her earlier state of shock, Queenie Butler was now on her soapbox. ‘Fuming I am, Viv. This government has got it all wrong, you know. The justice system in this country is a fucking joke. An eye for an eye like it was in the old days, that’s how it should be. Makes my blood boil to think that bastard Preston will soon be free to enjoy his life, and it’s only because of him my Roy is pushing up daisies.’
‘I know what you mean, Queen. I feel the same about that Turkish piece of shit. Killed my Lenny, yet he’s still walking about without a care in the world. I’ve got to be honest with you, I am very surprised and disappointed with Vinny. I really thought he would have sought revenge for Lenny’s death, but he ain’t done sod all about it.’
‘Well, don’t you be worrying, Vivvy, because I shall be having strong words with Vinny when I see him next. I will demand he sorts out Ahmed and Johnny Preston. Nobody messes with our family without getting their comeuppance, and I mean nobody.’
It had been Little Vinny’s idea that he and Ben spend their Friday evening travelling up and down the District Line on a train. When his dad had given him forty quid earlier, his parting words had been ‘Enjoy yourself, son, but I’m telling you now, if I find out you are hanging about with that div Ben Bloggs again, I will break your fucking neck.’
Now he was dressed in a blue Fred Perry short-sleeved shirt, beige three-quarter-length Sta-Prest trousers and his beloved Doc Martens, Little Vinny felt the personality his father had tried so hard to suppress rise to the surface once again. The only thing that pissed him off was that his hair was too long, which was why he had invested in a pork-pie hat.
‘Can I have another snout, Vin?’
Little Vinny chucked the packet of Benson and Hedges at his pal. Ben had no money, which is why he had already spent twenty-five quid of his hard-earned wages on booze, fags, puff and glue.
Seeing the woman in the grey jacket glare at him, Little Vinny stood on the seat and wrote ‘SKINS 4 EVER’ on the ceiling of the carriage with his permanent marker pen.
Ben giggled when the train stopped at Dagenham East and the appalled woman tutted before stomping onto the platform.
When the train didn’t move for five minutes, Little Vinny put some Evo Stik in an empty crisp bag, sniffed it, then handed it to his pal. Apart from two old boys sat at the end, the carriage was empty.
‘Too much too young,’ Ben yelled, when he recognized the sound of Terry Hall’s vocals.
Little Vinny poked his head out the door and saw two skinheads strolling down the platform with a stereo system. ‘Oi, in here, lads,’ he yelled.
By the time the train had reached Elm Park, not only had Little Vinny and Ben made new friends and learned that Madness wasn’t the first band to record ‘One Step Beyond’ it was actually Prince Buster, they’d also been invited to a party the following evening.
Vinny Butler was not a man with your average sexual appetite. He liked it rough, bordering on violent, which is why rather than be intimate with Jo, he preferred to satisfy his cravings elsewhere.
Last night, Vinny had experienced the most explosive sex he’d had in ages. He and Ahmed had met two birds in a nightclub, then ended up in some West End hotel. Vinny had got it on with the stunning dark-haired one and the sex had blown him away. He would have liked to have seen her again, but when he had woken up this morning, the bird had already gone.
Letting himself indoors, Vinny was pleased to see his son at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cornflakes. ‘You all right, boy? Sorry that you’ve been on your own all night. I had a few bevvies so stayed at the club,’ Vinny lied.
‘That’s OK, Dad. I came home before eleven like you told me to. Can I go out again tonight? I took your advice and met some new friends.’
‘Not skinheads, are they?’
‘No. They’re Mods,’ Little Vinny lied.
‘Yeah, you can go out again tonight. So, they local lads? What’s their names?’
‘Danno and Tim, and they live in Dagenham. I met them near the train station. They were visiting someone round here and asked me for directions. They’ve invited me to a party tonight in Dagenham, so I wondered would it be all right if I stayed out a bit later? I’m gonna look a right dickhead if I have to be home by eleven.’
Vinny sighed. His son was tall for his age, but he’d only turned fourteen this summer, and Vinny couldn’t help but worry about him. ‘I tell you what, I’ll give you a score to get a cab, but I want you home by midnight. I shall be ringing here at twelve on the dot and if you ain’t back, there’ll be big trouble. Understand?’
‘Yes, Dad. I understand.’
Mary Walker was in her element as she sipped her Guinness and watched Daniel, Adam and Lee splash about in the swimming pool. She could not swim herself, was petrified of deep water, but her grandsons were fabulous and swam like little fishes.
‘Shame about Dad, isn’t it, Mum? Do you reckon he’s really ill or do you think he had a change of heart?’ Nancy asked.
‘Oh, he is ill. We had to stop at least four times on the journey here this morning because he had the trots. You know what an old stick-in-the-mud he is though. I bet you a pound to a pinch of salt that he don’t bother driving down when he feels better. He’d rather work in that café than enjoy a holiday.’
‘Never mind. We’ll still have a good time, Mum. They have so many activities on for the kids here, and the adults.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well, the boys’ favourites are the donkey derby, It’s a Knockout and the trip to Treasure Island. And you are just going to love going to the club of a night. They have bingo on before the entertainment kicks off, then they have a resident band. There’s different competitions on every night: ballroom dancing, Knobbly Knees, Mr and Mrs – and you must enter the glamorous granny competition. The boys would love that.’
‘Oh, I don’t fancy standing on stage, Nance. Shame your father isn’t here, he’d have won the Knobbly Knees contest hands down.’
Nancy chuckled. ‘The American horse racing night is great fun. They put a big screen up on the stage and I let the boys have a little bet. They get so excited. It’s hilarious watching them.’