Payback (56 page)

Joanna guessed that the reason Vinny had not given her or her family any real grief over Jamie being arrested was because he was now under strict bail conditions. Nancy had found out from Queenie that the judge had warned Vinny he’d go straight to jail if he got himself in any more trouble between now and his trial. And he wouldn’t risk missing Molly’s funeral, not even for revenge.

Taking a deep breath, an incredibly nervous Joanna turned around and stared at the pregnancy test. Thankfully, the result was exactly what she had hoped it would be.

Jamie Preston’s eyes widened with fear as the five lads backed him into the corner of the washroom. ‘What you doing? Have I done something wrong?’

Glen Pritchard, who was not only the leader of his own little gang but also saw himself as one of the top boys in Feltham, grabbed Jamie by the neck. ‘Rumour has it, Preston, that you throttled your own little niece. Like it done to you, would ya?’

As his face reddened through lack of breath, Jamie slipped down the wall and onto his backside. ‘I never touched my little niece. I’ve never even met her.’

Pritchard snorted. His dad used to go to school with Michael Butler and had asked him to give Jamie a tough time on Michael’s behalf. Apparently, Michael had got in touch with his dad and promised to see them OK if Glen obeyed his orders and kept his mouth shut. ‘Yeah, that’s what all the nonces say. Bet you fiddled with her before you killed her though, eh?’

‘I swear to you, I ain’t no nonce and I didn’t kill Molly.’

Glen Pritchard turned to his gang and grinned. He was desperate to impress Michael Butler. What lad wouldn’t be? ‘Do the cunt, and do him good and proper.’

Queenie and Vivian were already dressed in their finest black clothing even though Molly’s funeral was not due to take place for another four hours.

Because of the awful circumstances, Vinny had insisted the club play no part in Molly’s send-off. Instead, the funeral was to leave from his house and the wake afterwards was to be held in the restaurant Vinny part-owned with Nick and Ahmed in Stratford.

‘There is no way I am going back to that restaurant, Queen. I’m coming straight home after the funeral. If Vinny is laying on free booze, it’s bound to end up in fisticuffs. Not like the old days any more, when people had respect for the dead. We should come back here and crack open a bottle of sherry to toast Molly. What do you reckon?’

The phone bursting into life stopped Queenie from replying. At the sound of Albie’s voice, her lip immediately curled up. ‘You’ve got some fucking nerve, ringing here. What do you want?’ she spat.

Albie had been as shocked and devastated as anybody to learn he had another son and it was Jamie who was responsible for Molly’s death. Vinny had banned him from attending the funeral, so Albie was now back in Ipswich, living with Bert. ‘I just wanted you to know that I am so sorry for everything that has happened, and I will be thinking of you all today.’

‘Thinking of us! I bet you are, you dirty old bastard. If it wasn’t for you having wandering-cock disease and creating a monster with that slag you shagged, my beautiful granddaughter would still be alive. Now fuck off. And if you ever ring here again, I’ll send Vinny down there to finish you off.’

Little Vinny was all suited and booted as he strolled towards Ben Bloggs’ house. Uncle Michael had taken him out yesterday to buy him his new clobber, as his old suit and black shoes were now far too small for him.

‘You look smart, boy. All the neighbours will be at the funeral to support your family today, including myself of course. How you bearing up? Is your dad OK?’ Nosy Hilda asked.

Little Vinny’s eyes welled up. ‘None of us are bearing up very well. My dad blames me and I blame myself.’

‘It’s not your fault, boy. You mustn’t blame yourself.’

Knowing he was about to burst into tears at Hilda’s kind words, Little Vinny ran to his pal’s house as fast as he could. His dad had looked at him with hatred earlier, and he needed Ben’s support today more than ever. ‘Ben, open up, it’s me,’ Little Vinny yelled, banging on the front door for the second time. He knew the doorbell didn’t work and Ben’s mother never surfaced before noon.

‘What the fuck! I thought you were the Old Bill. Whaddya want?’ a dishevelled-looking Alison yelled as she hung out of her bedroom window.

‘I’m looking for Ben. It’s my sister’s funeral today and he promised he’d come with me.’

‘Aw yeah, sorry about your sister. I forgot. Hang on, I’ll wake Ben up for you.’

Little Vinny shook his head in disgust. How could that poor excuse for a woman forget that his sister had died? The whole of Whitechapel was talking about Molly’s death and funeral.

When the front door was flung open, it was not Ben standing there, but Alison. ‘The little cunt ain’t here. Been acting really strange since you moved to Barking. Best you pop round and see him more often, Vin, because I need help with these kids. They’re his brothers and sisters and it’s his duty to help me bring them up. I’m a single mother.’

Unable to stop himself, Little Vinny hissed at Alison. ‘You, a mother? Don’t make me laugh. You are the scum of the fucking earth. Ben’s a good lad and I feel so sorry for him living here with you, I really do.’

About to tear Little Vinny off a strip, Alison Bloggs suddenly remembered whose son he was and thought better of it. Big Vinny was her dream man, but he also scared the life out of her. ‘Yeah, perhaps you’re right. I ain’t been the best mum in the world, I admit that. But I do try my best and I love my kids. I was still up at five this morning and Ben was definitely here then. I heard him get up to see to little Kylie. Perhaps he’s gone to school, eh, Vin?’

Collecting some phlegm from the back of his throat, Vinny spat in Alison’s face, then ran from the house. No way would Ben have gone to school today. But he was sure he knew where to find his pal.

Over in Tiptree, Johnny and Deborah Preston were both relieved that their daughter’s appetite had miraculously returned. Jo had lost so much weight lately, she was beginning to look anorexic.

Deborah waited until Joanna had swallowed the last piece of her egg on toast before giving her a big hug. ‘Well done, darling. It’s so good to see you eating again. Me and your dad are both proud of you, aren’t we, Johnny?’

‘I have no choice but to eat now, Mum. I’m eating for two again.’

Johnny spat his mouthful of tea back into his mug. ‘What?’

For the first time in weeks, Joanna managed a smile. ‘Yes, I’m pregnant. I only did the test this morning. It’s like a gift from God, isn’t it? No child will ever replace my Molly, but this baby will help me deal with her loss.’

Deborah and Johnny looked at one another in a mixture of astonishment and horror. Both were thinking the same thing, but it was Johnny who found his voice first. ‘You can’t keep the baby, love. You will never be rid of Vinny if you do. One day you will meet a man worthy of you, and you can have his children.’

‘Your dad is right, Jo. No way can you keep Vinny’s baby.’

With a look of determination in her eyes, Joanna leapt out of her chair and smashed her fist on the table. ‘This is my baby, not Vinny’s, and no way will he ever find out about it. I have already lost one child, and I am not losing another. It’s up to yous two if you choose to support me, but whether you do or not, I am keeping this child and that’s final.’

When Little Vinny arrived at his dad’s house he was taken aback by the display of flowers. There were literally hundreds of wreaths, arrangements and bouquets, and he found it hard to look at them as it made him feel terribly guilty.

Sick of being in Ahmed’s company, Michael was standing outside the house, smoking a cigarette. ‘You OK, boy?’ he asked, putting an arm around his nephew’s shoulders.

Little Vinny nodded, then stared at his muddy shoes. He was anything but OK. He was worried. Before he and Ben had taken to riding up and down the District Line, they used to hang out in what they called their special place. Little Vinny had thought he’d find Ben there, but there had been no sign of him, and he did not know how he was going to get through Molly’s funeral without Ben by his side.

‘Look at the state of your new shoes, Vin. Where you been?’ Michael asked.

‘Looking for Ben. His mother is such a cunt to him. I hate her.’

‘Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up before your dad sees you. You want to look smart for your sister’s funeral, don’t you?’

Little Vinny wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Yes, Uncle Michael. I loved Molly and I miss her so much. I will never forget her, not ever.’

In the depths of Hainault forest, Ben Bloggs sat alone, chain-smoking and drinking his second bottle of cider. He had never known this forest had existed until earlier this summer. Little Vinny had brought him here when they got off the District Line at Hainault station one day.

Needing to relax some more, Ben rolled himself a joint. His mother had been out whoring last night and he had raided the tin where she kept her money and drugs stash. He’d left the heroin there, but taken the puff and twenty-five quid. His mum would go apeshit when she found out, but Ben didn’t care. It served her right for being such a shit mother. He hated her, and was glad he would never have to clap eyes on her again. He did love and worry about his siblings though. Their future was bleak, just like his had been, and he would miss them terribly.

When the cannabis took effect, a light-headed Ben lay down on the leaves and stared at the sky. It had stopped raining now and the sun was peeping through the trees.

Ben had planned his death a few weeks ago, but had not had the guts to go through with it up until today. No way could he live with himself after what had happened. It had haunted his mind every minute of every day since.

Taking a deep drag on his joint, Ben closed his eyes and thought back to that fateful day. He could remember every detail clearly.

When Vinny had popped round that morning and asked him for a special favour, saying he’d pay him fifty quid. Ben had jumped at the chance. Fifty quid was a fortune to him, more money than he had ever had in his pocket in his lifetime.

He had only started to worry when his pal made him steal a pushchair and told him to hide in the garage next to the club.

‘What do we need a pushchair for?’ he’d asked.

‘You’ll find out soon enough. Wait here, I won’t be long,’ Little Vinny replied.

Ben didn’t own a watch, but at a guess he would say it was about an hour later when his pal returned with Molly in his arms, and a carrier bag containing two hats and a pair of gloves. ‘Make sure Molly doesn’t pull her hat off, and if anybody passes you, look down, don’t let them see your face, OK?’ were Vinny’s exact orders.

‘What’s going on, Vin? Where am I taking Molly?’

‘To our special place. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can. Now, put that hat on and if you have to touch Molly, make sure you wear the gloves.’

‘But why am I taking Molly there? This don’t seem right to me, Vin.’

That was the moment his pal had grabbed him and pushed him up against the garage wall. ‘Do you remember when Black Joe was picking on you? Or that gang of girls that bullied you when you were in the first year? And have you forgotten how I stuck up for you against Stephen Daniels and his wanky gang?’

‘No, ’course I ain’t forgotten, Vin.’

‘And what about all the fags, booze, puff, and glue I’ve bought you? Who pays for that shit every time we go out, Ben?’

‘You do, Vin.’

‘Well, isn’t it about time you did me a favour back then?’

Ben Bloggs had always had a weak nature. Vinny was the only friend he had and the thought of losing him was unbearable. ‘OK. But you ain’t gonna do nothing bad to her, are you?’ Ben asked, nodding towards the child who was now asleep in the pushchair he had thieved.

‘Course not. I just wanna teach my old man a lesson,’ Vinny assured him.

The walk across Victoria Park was nerve-racking to say the least, but the torrential rain meant the park was quite desolate. Two young women dashing past him sharing an umbrella, one old tramp, and a couple of dog walkers was all Ben could recall seeing, and he had kept his head down and run all the way to make it look like he was escaping the weather.

Molly had cried throughout the journey through the park, but by the time he reached his and Vinny’s special place, the child was hysterical. ‘I want my mummy and daddy. Where is my mummy and daddy?’ she’d sobbed.

Ben’s and Vinny’s special place was on some land that ran not far from the River Lea in Hackney. It was a secluded spot amongst trees and bushes, and once you stepped inside it was like a little den. ‘Stop crying, Molly. It’s OK, darling. I’ll look after you until your mum or dad comes to get you,’ Ben had whispered, cradling the child in his arms. He was good with kids, had virtually brought his own siblings up single-handed.

‘Where’s Molly Dolly? I want my doll,’ Molly wept.

Ben had cursed at that moment. The doll had been in the pushchair with Molly and must have been dropped on the journey. ‘We’ll find Molly Dolly when the rain stops. Your brother will be here soon, then he’ll take you home to your mum and dad.’

When his little sister Kylie was upset, or could not sleep, Ben had often sung nursery rhymes while cradling her. This seemed to have a calming effect on Molly as she dozed off in his arms during ‘Little Miss Muffet’ and was still asleep when Little Vinny finally arrived. ‘Thank God, you’re here, Vin. I don’t wanna do anything like this ever again. Molly’s wet, tired and upset ’cause she lost her doll. We need to take her home now.’

Vinny bent down, unzipped the sports bag he had brought with him and put on a pair of yellow Marigold gloves.

‘What you doing? What else is in that bag?’ Ben asked, unable to keep the panic out of his voice.

His pal never answered his question. Instead, he grabbed Molly out of his arms, laid the petrified child on the ground, and cold-bloodedly throttled the life out of her.

The look of bewilderment and horror in Molly’s eyes had been the most sickening sight Ben had ever witnessed. Unable to move, he had stood open-mouthed and rooted to the spot.