Somehow restraining the urge to knock the pompous prick’s teeth out, Vinny stormed out of the office. He then vented his anger on his son, prodding and punching him all the way along the corridor.
Little Vinny was shocked by his dad’s hissy fit. He knew he had done wrong by borrowing his father’s gun, but thought his dad would be pleased that he’d had the brains to stash a toy one in case the Old Bill came knocking. ‘What did the headmaster say, Dad?’
Vinny ignored his son’s question until they got outside. He then picked Little Vinny up by the throat and slammed him against a nearby wall. ‘He said you’re fucking expelled – what d’you think he said? And you’d best hope that my gun is still where you’ve hidden it, ’cause if it’s not, I shall chop those thieving hands of yours off.’
Little Vinny had never seen his dad so angry. ‘Please put me down. You’re strangling me.’
Eyes bulging, Vinny loosened his grip so his son’s feet made contact with the pavement. He then grabbed him by the chin and stared him straight in the eyes. ‘Things are gonna change from now on, boy. You won’t be going back to school; neither will you be knocking about with that fucking div Ben Bloggs any more. You’ll be coming to work for me.’
‘How much will I get paid?’ Little Vinny brazenly asked.
‘Zilch! For years you’ve been a disappointment to me and your reward for your hard work will be me turning you into a man. Molly is worth ten of you. I really fucking mean that, boy.’
Albie Butler sat bolt upright in bed. He’d had that awful nightmare again where Queenie and Vivian had locked him in a cupboard with no food or water and left him there to die.
Relieved that it was not true, Albie smiled as he leaned towards Dorothy. ‘Happy birthday, my darling. I’ll go down and make us a cuppa, shall I?’
When Dorothy did not stir, Albie decided to let her lie in for a bit while he made her some tea and toast. Dorothy was not a regular drinker of alcohol, only ever indulged on special occasions, but she’d gone out for a birthday meal with her old work colleagues from the library yesterday evening and drank a couple of snowballs. She had talked the hind legs off a donkey when she had arrived home, which had amused Albie and Bert immensely.
‘Morning, Albie. Is the old lush not awake yet?’
Albie chuckled. ‘No. I reckon she’s nursing a hangover. You going to the allotment this morning?’
‘Yes, as soon as I’ve read my paper. You stay here with the birthday girl. I’ll water your patch for you.’
Putting the tea and toast on the tray, Albie walked slowly up the stairs. ‘Wakey, wakey, darling. I’ve made you some breakfast.’
Receiving no reply, Albie put the tray on the dressing table. He then knelt on the bed and gently shook the love of his life. His smile was replaced by a grimace of panic and disbelief as his fingers made contact with her skin. It was cold as ice, and no matter how he pleaded, his beloved Dorothy was unable to respond. The poor woman was as dead as dead could be.
‘Nanna, Nanna,’ young Molly Butler shouted as her mum answered the front door.
Deborah Preston picked her beautiful granddaughter up and gave her a big hug. Molly was nothing like her father, thankfully, and she had an adorable nature. Deborah had taken many photos of the child to send to Johnny in prison and even he admitted she resembled a little angel. He had joked that Jo must have been knocking off some other bloke on that holiday camp as there was no way Vinny’s sperm could produce such a gorgeous child.
‘I was surprised when you rang me earlier, Mum. I wasn’t expecting you to visit until next week.’
‘Is Vinny here?’ Deborah whispered. She had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with her daughter and Molly when Johnny had first suggested she keep an eye on them. But over the past couple of years, apart from two occasions, Vinny had always been hanging around whenever she visited.
Deborah hated Vinny even more now than the first time she had laid eyes on him. He obviously adored Molly, was polite to her in front of Joanna, but Deborah could see through the bastard. And how she had held her temper when he’d smirked at her, then asked her how Johnny was doing on her last visit, Deborah did not know.
‘Vinny went out early this morning, Mum. He isn’t due back for ages.’
‘Good, because we need to talk.’
When her mum explained that it was highly likely her dad would get parole soon and they were planning on moving to London, Joanna felt the colour drain from her face. Since the fire at the club, Vinny had banned her from having any contact with her father ever again.
‘Please don’t move to London, Mum. If you do it will really cause me trouble. I love Dad, you know I do, but there is no way I can see him or introduce him to Molly. Vinny swears blind that it was Dad who put Mark up to starting that fire. If I disobey him, he won’t let you see Molly either.’
‘But you’ve been writing to your father behind Vinny’s back. We’ll just have to be careful. Your dad loves and misses you terribly, Jo, and not being able to meet his granddaughter will break his heart. He swears to me he had no idea that Mark had planned that fire, and I know he’s telling the truth. Believe me, I know your father well enough to know when he is lying.’
‘Shame you didn’t know about his affairs then, Mum. You can’t be that psychic when it comes to Dad, seeing as it was me who caught him out.’
Deborah gave her daughter a look of distaste. Johnny messing about with one of Joanna’s school friend’s mums was the reason their marriage had ended, but she saw no reason to bring it up now. ‘I know what you’re trying to do, Jo. You’re trying to turn the tables and make me look like a door mat, just because you’re too scared to put your foot down with that bastard who rules you. I am not stupid, love. I gave birth to you and I know deep down you aren’t happy with him.’
‘Yes, I am. Vinny loves me and Molly,’ Joanna replied defensively.
‘And me and your dad love you and Molly too. Look, Jo, I know your dad hasn’t met Molly yet, but even though she is part of Vinny, he loves her to death. You cannot ban him from seeing her. You must speak to Vinny and come to some arrangement. Even if your dad gets to see you and her once a month, I’m sure he will be happy.’
‘What Nanny say, Mummy?’ Molly asked innocently, holding her chubby arms out for a cuddle. Raised voices had given the child an inkling that all was not well.
‘Nothing important, darling. Why don’t you pop upstairs and get your new dolly. I’m sure Nanny would love to meet Molly Dolly.’
Giggling because she knew the doll had been named after her by her daddy, Molly toddled happily up the stairs.
Joanna moved over to the sofa and gave her mum a hug. ‘I’m sorry for bringing up Dad’s affair, and I promise I will try to talk to Vinny. But I doubt he will ever allow Dad to be part of Molly’s life, Mum. It’s not just the fire. You have to remember, Dad shot his brother Roy.’
Deborah held Joanna to her chest as she had done when she was a child. ‘Don’t get upset, angel. Everything will work out in the end, I just know it will.’
About to tell her mother that there was more chance of hell freezing over than things working out, Molly’s re-appearance made Joanna reconsider. Her mum was only trying to be positive, so what was the point of ruining her visit?
When Vinny Butler walked into The Bull in Hornchurch, Splodgenessabounds’ ‘Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps Please’ was playing on the jukebox and the pub was full of bikers.
‘Well, this wasn’t a very good choice. How we meant to have a business meeting in here? I can’t even hear myself fucking think.’
Ignoring his protests, Ahmed led his business partner over to a dark-haired bloke who was stood at the bar. He was wearing light trousers, a brown short-sleeved Gabicci shirt, and looked about thirty.
‘Richie, this is Vinny. Vinny this is Richie.’
Vinny shook hands and was about to speak when AC/DC’s ‘Whole Lotta Rosie’ started blasting out of the jukebox. ‘I ain’t staying in this dive. I cannot abide bikers or their shit taste in music,’ Vinny yelled in Ahmed’s ear.
Richie knocked back the short he was drinking and gestured for Ahmed and Vinny to follow him. Once outside the pub, he grinned. ‘I only live down the road. I don’t usually invite strangers back to my gaff, but I’ve heard lots of good things about you via Ahmed, so I trust you are sound,’ Richie said, directing the comment at Vinny.
Richie’s gaff was a two-bedroomed flat in Emerson Park. Vinny immediately clocked that Richie had class. The flat was immaculate. It had a smart oxblood-coloured Chesterfield sofa, a stunning triangular-shaped glass table that sat in the centre of the lounge, and even though Vinny knew little about art, he could tell that the big painting on the wall was an expensive one. ‘That your kids?’ Vinny asked, pointing at a photo of Richie with two babies on his lap.
‘Yeah. Twin boys. Six now, they are. I miss seeing them wake up every morning since I split up with their mum, but I get to see them every weekend. They only live in Barking, which is where I come from.’
‘Sorry to hear that, pal. Must be tough for you. I’ve got a boy and a girl myself and I would hate to live apart from them,’ Vinny replied. He had warmed to Richie already.
Richie poured out three large brandies and handed a tumbler each to Ahmed and Vinny. ‘Taste that. Thirty years old that is.’
‘Beautiful, Richie. Now, let’s talk business, shall we?’ Ahmed suggested.
Richie walked over to his bookcase, pulled out an autobiography, opened the cover, and threw two see-through bags towards Ahmed and Vinny. One contained white powder, the other brown.
Vinny opened one bag. The cocaine was rock hard and looked completely uncut. ‘You got something I can bash this up with?’
As soon as Vinny snorted a small line, he turned to Ahmed and grinned. ‘Jesus! That’s knocked my block off. Try it. It’s proper.’
Ahmed did as Vinny asked, then smirked at Richie. ‘How much of this can you get your hands on?’
‘I’ve got ten kilo around me at the moment, and can get more in a fortnight. It’s not cheap though. I don’t know what you were paying your previous supplier, but this stuff is forty grand per kilo. With its purity, as you well know, you can turn it into hundreds of thousands of pounds. Charlie is becoming more popular by the day. A pal of mine has been selling tons of it at eighty quid per gram.’
‘Do you mind if me and Ahmed have a moment alone to chat, Richie?’ Vinny asked.
‘No, not at all. I’ll leave you to it.’
When Richie left the room, Vinny turned to Ahmed. ‘That’s fucking well steep, mate. We have to try and knock him down on the price a bit. Don’t get me wrong, the gear is top drawer, but it’s a hell of a lot more than we’ve been paying.’
‘In this world you get what you pay for, Vinny. I know it’s expensive, but such is the purity we can turn that ten kilo into twenty before we sell it on. I feel completely out my nut on that small line. It’s like the old stuff we used to get from Emre and I don’t want to mess this deal up by bartering. The heroin is even dearer, I think. I’m sure he told me that was fifty grand per kilo, but that’s meant to be top-drawer stuff too. Obviously, we will need to get a guinea pig to test that for us, but you can just see and smell the quality of it,’ Ahmed said, handing the bag to Vinny.
‘I don’t care what quality it is. Fifty grand a kilo is daylight robbery. That’s virtually double what Hakan was charging us for the brown. Why don’t we forget about the heroin and just concentrate on the coke, eh? That’s where the big profit for the future lies.’
‘I think you are right. The demand for cocaine is getting bigger by the day.’
‘Let’s tell Richie our decision then.’
When Richie re-entered the room, he listened to what Ahmed had to say, then nodded. ‘Before we shake on this, I need to stipulate my rules. Obviously, you’re to tell nobody that you are dealing with me. The deals will take place at this flat and only one of you comes to collect and exchange money. I’ll be honest – and I don’t mean any disrespect to you, Ahmed – but I would rather Vinny be the one who comes here. With you being Turkish, he looks far less conspicuous if he bumps into any of my neighbours.’
Vinny held his hands up, palms facing outwards. ‘I won’t be picking it up. Ahmed sorts out that side of our business. That’s the deal we have.’
‘Yes, but this is different, Vinny. We are not picking up from a remote airfield any more. We are coming to Hornchurch, to Richie’s flat,’ Ahmed stated.
‘I’m sorry, Ahmed, but the agreement we had when I first came into this business with you was that I am the silent partner. No way am I driving about with ten kilo in my car.’
‘Well, I don’t exactly want to drive about with ten kilo in my car either, Vinny, but some mug has to do it.’
‘Look, lads, I’m not being funny, but this is something you need to thrash out in private. If you don’t want to go ahead with the deal, there’ll be no hard feelings. I’ve got to pop out in a bit, so get back to me in a day or two, once you’ve had a chance to discuss things your end. I’m sure between the three of us we can still come to some arrangement.’
Ahmed winked as he and Richie shook hands. Carl Thompson had more than earned the first instalment of wedge that was heading his way. The geezer had played a blinder.
Donald and Mary Walker were in exceedingly good spirits. They had spent a lovely day with their grandsons, and this evening they would be meeting their son Christopher’s girlfriend for the very first time.
‘Auntie Mary, can we play in the swimming pool again, please?’ Young Lee asked politely.
At first Donald had been totally opposed to the idea of Lee visiting them with Daniel and Adam. He had said Lee was Michael’s flesh and blood, and not their responsibility. However, when Nancy had begged her father to reconsider, saying the situation was causing problems in her marriage and Michael had insisted that, if Lee wasn’t included, then Daniel and Adam would not be allowed to visit as often, Donald had reluctantly agreed.
Lee was a lovely, polite little boy. He called Donald and Mary Uncle and Auntie and both of them had become very fond of him. Mary hugged the child. ‘No more swimming pool today, darling. Nancy is picking you up soon and she will be annoyed if you get in her car all wet, won’t she?’