Payback (35 page)
‘No, I’d prefer to surprise him. But do put the kettle on. I’ll have a coffee,’ Vinny said, grinning broadly to show off his perfect teeth. He could tell Shazza’s mother fancied him and was quite enjoying playing on it.
As Vinny ran up the stairs, he could clearly hear the radio presenter announcing that this week’s number six was the Piranhas’ ‘Tom Hark’. He actually quite liked that song, it was very catchy, but as he barged into the girl’s bedroom all he could think of was how much he blamed and despised his son for all that had happened this weekend. If Little Vinny hadn’t run away, he would have arrived at Kings in a far better frame of mind and would never have felt the need to wind Michael up the way he had, then his darkest secret would still be safe and his wonderful mother wouldn’t have disowned him.
‘Fuck off, Dad. Just leave me alone,’ Little Vinny yelled as his father smacked him around the head, then marched him down the stairs by his right ear.
‘Whatever’s going on?’ Carol asked, dashing out of the kitchen. She had been so taken with the gorgeous man in the smart suit, she had begun to make a plate of sandwiches.
When Little Vinny kicked him in the ankle and called him a cunt, Vinny punched his son as hard as he could in the side of the head before turning to Carol. ‘Look, I’m very sorry about this disruption, but did you know that this little shit who I am embarrassed to call a son of mine only turned fourteen this summer?’
Shazza was standing at the top of the stairs with her mouth wide open. No wonder the sex with Vinny had been so awful, and no wonder when she had told him today that she had to go back to school on Tuesday, so he’d have to find somewhere else to stay, he had responded by asking her to get engaged to him.
Carol Young put her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh my God! I am so sorry. I would never have let your son stay here if I had known he was so young. He told you he was sixteen, didn’t he, Shaz?’
‘Yes, the lying little pervert. Get out of my life, and never come back,’ Shazza screamed.
Vinny smirked as he marched his tearful son towards his Jaguar. What goes around comes around had always been his motto.
Joanna had just got Molly off to sleep when Vinny arrived home with his red-eyed son in tow. ‘Thank God you found him. Is he OK?’
‘No, I ain’t OK. I hate you and I hate him and I wish you would both die in a car crash,’ Little Vinny yelled as he pushed past Joanna and ran up the stairs to the solace of his bedroom.
‘Charming,’ Joanna mumbled.
Having dealt with his son, Vinny was now ready to deal with his gallivanting girlfriend. ‘Me and you need to talk,’ he announced coldly.
Joanna knew exactly what Vinny wanted to talk about, but decided to act dumb. ‘About what?’
‘About you behaving like a single fucking woman. Four times I rang home, trying to get hold of you earlier. You knew I was waiting on that phone number.’
Joanna hated arguing with Vinny, which was why she usually bowed down to him. However, she was desperate to see her parents get married, and knew if she did not fight back, she would never be able to attend their big day. ‘And I wrote the phone number down for you. You never said you was going to ring home every five minutes, did you?’
Vinny snarled. ‘So, where did you go then?’
‘Out for lunch with Nancy and the boys. I put that on the note I left you. We had no fresh food here and Molly and I were hungry.’
‘There’s food in the freezer and cupboards.’
Remembering how Nancy kept urging her to stick up for herself, Joanna did just that. ‘I am not a prisoner, Vinny, and I certainly don’t have to tell you my every move. I rarely ever ask where you’re going – and if I did, you wouldn’t tell me. All you ever do is dictate to me what I can and cannot do, and I’ve had enough of it. You even made me get my bloody hair dyed and I despise it dark.’
‘Who’s been putting ideas in that pretty little head of yours, eh? Nosy fucking Nancy, I bet. Wants to concentrate on her own relationship, that one, else Michael might stray again.’
‘Stray again! What do you mean, stray again?’
‘Never you mind what I mean, but you listen to me carefully, Jo. I own this house and I pay the bills. What I say goes, understand?’
Knowing she had to call Vinny’s bluff, Joanna gave a sarcastic chuckle. ‘You really think you’re the big man, don’t you? Our relationship is a farce, Vinny, I know that much. You don’t love me, probably never have. When was the last time we made love, eh? It was that long ago even I can’t fucking remember.’
‘I’ve barely seen you for weeks! While you was sunning yourself and partying down at Kings, I was here grafting. Somebody has to foot the bill for your luxurious lifestyle, don’t they?’
‘Well, you won’t have to foot the bill any more, Vinny, because first thing tomorrow, I am leaving you, for good.’
Vinny’s eyes glinted dangerously. ‘Really? And where will you be running off to? Mummy’s and Daddy’s house? Just leave me a forwarding address, so my solicitor can contact you about visitation rights. I take it you will still be wanting to see your daughter occasionally?’
Crying tears of pure anger, Joanna lunged at Vinny, fists flailing. ‘I will never let you take my daughter away from me, you bastard,’ she screamed hysterically.
Feeling his penis stiffen, Vinny grabbed Joanna’s wrists to stop her from hitting him, then kissed her to shut her up. He then gave her what she had been craving for months. A damn good fucking.
Over in Tottenham, Ahmed and Burak were in a local nightclub. Both high on cocaine and in the party spirit, they were sitting at a table with two English girls who spoke, dressed and acted like slags. Having plied the pair with drinks all evening, both men were certain that their luck would be in later.
Ahmed slid his hand up the mini-skirt of the girl who was sitting next to him. ‘Go have a dance with your friend. I need to speak business with my cousin. Come back soon and I will buy champagne,’ he said in the heavy Turkish accent that he used for pulling.
When the girls left the table, Ahmed turned to Burak. ‘I met Christopher again today. That’s why I was late meeting you. It’s all systems go for Thursday. He swears he has not mentioned anything to his superiors, and I have promised to remove one of the bulbs on Vinny’s brake lights, so he has a legit reason to pull us over.’
‘Do you think you can trust him?’ Burak asked. He hated the police with a passion, and was worried his cousin was a fool to trust a cop when there was a risk he might be implicated too.
Ahmed chuckled. ‘The only time he searched me was the first time we met, so I took a chance today and recorded the whole thing. Gonna transfer the convo onto a second tape and leave that one in your safe. No way he can ever nail me now. I even mentioned how he lied about Vinny murdering Dave Phillips.’
Burak chuckled. ‘You are one clever, nasty man, my cousin.’
Ahmed grinned. ‘Aren’t I just?’
‘So, what is the plan? Where is he going to pull you over?’
‘Along the A13, I think. I need to speak to him again tomorrow, because we were interrupted. A message came through on his pager about a little girl being missing and a body being found, and he had to shoot off.’
‘Shame it wasn’t Vinny Butler’s daughter,’ Burak joked.
High on drugs, Ahmed giggled. ‘Bye bye little Molly.’
The following morning, Vinny woke up at the crack of dawn. Joanna was still asleep, so he propped himself up on his elbow and stared at her. The sex between them the previous evening had actually been quite good for once. Because they had been arguing, it had been rough and spontaneous. He had even put his hand around her throat at one point when he was pumping away at her and threatened to kill her if she ever tried to take Molly away from him. Jo had thought he was joking, but he wasn’t, which had made his orgasm even more enjoyable.
When Vinny sidled out of bed, Joanna stirred, then sat up. She hugged a pillow to her chest and smiled. ‘Did you really mean all that you said last night?’
Vinny sat on the edge of the bed, plastered a fake smile on his face and squeezed Joanna’s hand. He was going to contact a top solicitor later today to see where he stood with custodial rights, but he doubted he had a cat in hell’s chance of stopping Joanna walking away with his beloved daughter. That was the reason he had given Joanna all the spiel the previous evening. He had told her everything she wanted to hear, even though it had nearly choked him when he told her he really loved her. ‘Yeah, course I meant it, babe. I’ve been too over-protective with you and I shouldn’t be, because I know deep down I can trust you. I’ll leave some money today and you go to the hairdressers and get your hair done whatever colour you want. You can even have it dyed pink if it makes you happy.’
‘And do you still promise to look after Molly on Thursday while I go up the West End with Nancy?’
‘Yep. But as I said to you last night, you need to be back here by four at the latest, as I have some important business on that day.’
‘I’ll be back by four. We’re going shopping early and as soon as we’ve had lunch, I will come straight home,’ Joanna lied. Nancy had actually offered to drive and accompany her to her parents’ wedding just so she’d have a decent alibi.
‘Right, I’m gonna check on the kids. Once I’ve had a chat with Little Vinny, I’m gonna make my beautiful bird breakfast in bed.’
Grinning broadly, Joanna threw her arms around Vinny’s neck and held him tightly. After their amazing love-making session last night, they had sat up and had a few drinks. That’s when Vinny had admitted that he had lost his sex drive due to the stress of Lenny dying in his arms and him lying about it. ‘I love you,’ Joanna said.
Vinny kissed his girlfriend on the forehead. ‘Love you too, babe.’ He then stood up, turned his back and smirked. Women were so gullible at times, they really were.
‘You OK, Mum? I rang the café. Dad said you was ill, then said something about how you deserved to be,’ Nancy asked.
‘Oh, take no notice of that miserable old sod. I’m in the doghouse, love. We had the Robinses over yesterday and me and Margaret had a bit too much to drink. Been sick as a dog all night, I have, and now I’ve got one of my migraines. Your father was not amused.’
Nancy giggled. She had only ever seen her mum drunk once in her life. She had been about ten at the time and she remembered her father cursing while desperately trying to take her mother’s panty-girdle off, in case it stopped her blood supply while she slept. It had given herself and Christopher something to chuckle about for days afterwards. ‘Did they bring Roger with them?’
‘Yes, and Roger brought his fiancée. Me and your father have been invited to the wedding next June.’
Roger Robins was the boring lad that her father had been trying to fix her up with before she got together with Michael. Her dad had even forced Roger to buy tickets for
Top of the Pops
once, but even though she’d missed her chance to see Marc Bolan sing live, Nancy didn’t regret turning him down. Roger had been far too embarrassing to be seen out in public with. ‘Is he still really ugly, Mum? What’s his girlfriend like?’
‘Roger’s that ugly he could haunt houses, Nance. As for the girlfriend – you know that programme
On the Buses
?’
Knowing what her mum was going to say next, Nancy roared with laughter. ‘Don’t tell me she looks like Olive?’
‘Yes, dear. Now, what do you want? I’ve got to go back to sleep in a minute. I feel terrible.’
‘I want you to do me a favour, Mum. Can the boys stay round yours on Wednesday night and you take them to school the next morning? Joanna’s parents are getting married, and I’m her cover story for the day. I don’t want to involve Michael, so we’re pretending to go shopping up the West End. I’ll be back in time to pick the boys up from school.’
‘Yeah, I’ll have the boys. How is that arsehole Vinny treating Jo these days?’
‘Awful, Mum. Which is why I want Jo to be back in contact with her parents. I think they might make her see sense. I’ve got loads to tell you, but you must never repeat it to anybody. Dad and Chris would have a field day.’
‘You know you can trust me, love. Look, I’ve got to go now. I think I’m going to be sick again.’
Queenie Butler was in her conservatory, staring listlessly out of the window, when she heard the post drop through the door.
Shuffling along the hallway in her fluffy slippers, she recognized the writing on the big envelope immediately. It was from Roy’s former fiancée.
Apart from when Colleen had turned up at Roy’s funeral, Queenie hadn’t set eyes on her or Emily-Mae since their move to Ireland. Colleen was married now and last year she’d had a son, but she had never forgotten Queenie. She wrote to her every few months and would still ring her every Christmas and on Roy’s birthday.
Staring at the latest photos of her granddaughter, Queenie smiled. Emily-Mae was eight now and a pretty little thing. Blonde, with petite features, she looked just like an older version of Molly.
Suddenly feeling sad again, Queenie put the photos on the table. When she had disowned Vinny, she had not given Molly a thought. She loved that little girl with a passion and could not bear it if she was stopped from having regular contact with her. Surely Vinny would not be that petty, would he?
Vinny sat down on the edge of his son’s bed. Had it not been for his mother disowning him, he would have probably given Little Vinny the hiding of his life, but the events of the past twenty-four hours had given him food for thought.
‘Can we have a chat, boy? I’m not angry with you for running away. I’m just sick of us arguing, if you want the truth.’
Little Vinny sat up with a sulky expression on his face. ‘Why did you have to spoil things with me and Shaz? I really liked her.’
‘Vin, you can’t go around lying to birds about your age. It’s not morally right. Did you have sex with Shaz?’
Little Vinny nodded.
‘Well, I hope you had the brains to put something on the end of it.’
‘Shaz said she was on the pill.’
Vinny sighed. ‘Birds are liars, son. You can never trust what they say. In future, you always use something whether they tell you they’re on the pill or not, you get me? Young girls these days just wanna get a council flat or house, and they trap the likes of you to get them up the spout. You don’t wanna be a dad yet, do you?’