‘What’re you doing that for? Aren’t you going to read it to me?’ Chloe asked, when her pal began to rip the letter into shreds.
‘It’s none of your business, Chloe. Anyway, there was nothing in the letter that I found that surprising. Vinny had already been honest with me about certain stuff. I bet you’re really jealous deep down, aren’t you? You must be well pissed off that Vinny picked me and you got lumbered with Ahmed? I would be if it were the other way round.’
Amazed by Joanna’s ridiculous accusation, Chloe shook her head in disbelief. She wasn’t jealous. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. ‘Do you know what, Jo, you have changed so much since you’ve been with your precious new boyfriend. You’re nothing like the best mate I once had. I’m not jealous of you being with Vinny. All I can put it down to is he has brainwashed you in some strange way, and now you are under his spell. Hope you don’t expect me to pick up the pieces when it all goes wrong, because after the way you have treated me lately, you don’t deserve my friendship.’
Sick of people interfering in her life, Joanna decided a hint of sarcasm and the shock factor was her best form of defence. ‘Oh dearie me. You do have an overactive imagination at times, Chloe. Well, to put your mind at rest, I can assure you that Vinny has not cast a spell, or brainwashed me. I think the word you might actually be searching for is impregnated.’
Vinny Butler had driven back to Whitechapel as quickly as the busy roads had allowed his Jaguar to travel. Joanna telling him that she might be pregnant had been enough reason for him to want to escape Eastbourne a.s.a.p. But, he had also rung the club after dropping Jo off at Kings, and Lenny had informed him that the man from prison had rung up again, and so had Michael who apparently had a crisis going on and wouldn’t be in to work for the foreseeable future.
Dean’s nan had been moved to Oldchurch Hospital in Romford today to have her operation there instead of at the London, so knowing Lenny would be alone at the club, Vinny had asked Ahmed to get there at two p.m. as he had a delivery from the brewery arriving that he couldn’t trust Lenny to deal with alone.
‘Everything OK, Champ? Did Ahmed turn up to help you?’ Vinny asked as he entered the club, feeling extremely flustered.
‘Yeah. Ahmed’s in your office, Vin. He’s making some phonecalls. Do you mind if I have a pint? I worked hard today, and I deserve one,’ Lenny said, grinning cheekily at his cousin.
‘’Course you can, Champ. You pour yourself a drink and have a rest now. If you want you can hop on the DJ stand and play a bit of music. Not too loud though, as I have a bit of business I need to discuss with Ahmed,’ Vinny said, strolling towards his office.
‘Ah, there you are! I’ve installed your new phone, and I’ve tested it already,’ Ahmed informed his friend.
‘You sure it rings? How did you test it for incoming calls?’ Vinny asked.
‘I sent Champ to the phonebox around corner and he rang the number.’
‘I’ve had the day from hell, mate. Pour us a large Scotch while I rack us up a line,’ Vinny said, opening his safe.
‘What is wrong?’ Ahmed asked.
Vinny downed his Scotch in one, then told Ahmed about Joanna’s period being two weeks late.
‘Oh dear! You have super sperm. You are going to be a Daddy again. Congratulations.’
‘It ain’t fucking funny, Ahmed. I don’t wanna be lumbered with her or another kid.’
‘I’m only messing with you. If things don’t work out to your liking, we can just get rid of Joanna like we did Karen. Easy-peasy,’ Ahmed replied.
Vinny jumped as the new phone rang. It was much louder than his old one. ‘Hello.’
Scottish Pat wasn’t a man of many words, but Vinny could not wipe the smile off his face as he digested the couple of sentences that his informant had to say.
‘Well?’ Ahmed asked, when Vinny replaced the receiver on its cradle.
‘Preston was let out of solitary and then took a heroin overdose. Rumour has it, the cunt had already been brown bread for an hour when they carried him out of his cell. Fucking love it, I do. Bye-bye, Johnny Boy, you no-good shitcunt.’
‘That is wonderful news. I’m well chuffed for you. Now, we must work out how to get rid of the daughter.’
Vinny poured himself and Ahmed another drink. ‘I’ll dump her as soon as the dust has settled, or should I say Johnny’s ashes?’
Ahmed grinned. ‘I think we should celebrate Johnny’s death tonight. We can go to the whorehouse, shag women, and drink champagne.’
Vinny laughed. Ahmed was so on his wavelength it was uncanny.
None of the nurses or doctors at Oldchurch Hospital had any idea what had happened to the girl or who she was. There were no obvious signs of a physical attack, but the girl refused to speak, and seemed dazed and confused.
Mandy, the young Irish nurse, was very worried about the girl. Her own sister, Hazel, had been raped by a man she had met in a bar a few years ago in Dublin, and the way the girl was acting made Mandy think that the same had possibly happened to her. ‘Well?’ Mandy asked, as the policewoman and the matron of her ward walked out of the room.
‘Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be any signs of a sexual or any other attack. We think it is more to do with mental health, such as a breakdown of some kind has occurred. She is speaking now though, although she isn’t saying much.’
‘What did she say?’ Mandy asked, her face etched with worry.
Mandy’s matron smiled. Mandy had only been working on her ward for three months and she wished all her young nurses were so kind to their patients. ‘Well, she asked me for a cup of tea, and then told DS Day that her name was Nancy.’
Unaware that his daughter was currently unwell and dis-orientated in a different hospital, Donald sat proudly next to his son as the news reporter started the interview.
Christopher had recovered extremely well from his stabbing ordeal, and was now well enough to be filmed by the BBC who were covering his heroic story on the evening news. Christopher’s bosses were absolutely thrilled with his off-duty courageousness, and not only had the Chief Inspector been to the hospital to visit him personally, he had all but told Christopher he would be promoted instantly as soon as his probation period was over.
Mary had warned Donald earlier that it would not be wise for him or Christopher to be interviewed and filmed by the BBC, considering the trouble they had had in the past. She had also informed him that none of Michael’s family knew that Christopher was now a policeman and also reminded him of why they had once had to flee Whitechapel.
Donald being Donald did not take his wife’s advice, and when the reporter began to ask him questions, he answered them with pride. Why shouldn’t he? His son was a hero, a budding police officer, and the past was now just a distant memory, wasn’t it?
Having driven around for hours with Mary in the hope of finding Nancy, Michael took his mother-in-law’s advice and headed home to ring the police.
‘Do you mind if I have a nose through Nancy’s wardrobe before we call the cops? I might be able to work out what she was wearing. The police are bound to ask,’ Mary said.
‘’Course you can. I’ll make the boys some beans on toast while you’re upstairs. I really can’t see the Old Bill doing much until she’s been missing for over twenty-four hours though,’ Michael replied, feeling dismal.
‘They bloody well will when I speak to them. I shall play on the fact that Nancy hasn’t been very well lately. They’ll have to take notice if they think she’s had mental health problems.’
Ordering the boys to go into the lounge to watch TV, Michael opened a tin of beans and was about to pour them into a saucepan when the phone rang. He dashed to answer it in hope that the caller was Nancy but it wasn’t, it was his mother. ‘’Ere, you’ll never guess what, Michael?’
‘What?’
‘Roy wants to make peace with Vinny. Roy rang him and Vinny’s going out with him on Wednesday. Isn’t it wonderful news, eh?’
Michael knew immediately that something was amiss. Roy had hated Vinny with a passion yesterday and nobody changed their tune that quickly. In normal circumstances, he would have informed his mother of this, but he was too worried about his wife to even enter into a conversation. ‘Mum, I have to go. Nancy is missing.’
Vinny Butler sat mulling over his life while he waited for Joanna’s phonecall. He had been drinking and snorting far too much recently, and decided now he had got revenge for his brother’s shooting, he should really try to sort himself out. There were lots of punters who drank in his club that were forever out of their boxes, and Vinny thought far too highly of himself to end up like them. He would have one last wild night out with Ahmed tonight to celebrate Preston’s death, then get his act together from tomorrow. He had barely seen Little Vinny or his mother recently, and he needed to get his priorities back in order.
Jumping as the phone rang, Vinny snatched at the receiver. ‘You all right, Jo?’
‘Yes and no. I did that test you told me to do and I am definitely pregnant. Part of me is excited, but I’m also really nervous. My mum told me in the past that she was in labour with me for over twenty-four hours and had never felt pain like it in her life before.’
Being as blunt as an old unsharpened knife, Vinny just said what he had to say. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking today, Jo, and I’m really not sure we are ready for a kid, are you? I mean, we haven’t known one another for five minutes, and what with finding out who your father is as well. It’s all too much, too soon.’
Joanna was unable to keep the catch out of her voice. ‘But, I chose you over my family, Vinny. You knew that the night I left my mum in the restaurant. What are you trying to say? You don’t want us to finish, do you?’
‘No, ’course not. I just think we should wait before we have kids, that’s all,’ Vinny explained, suddenly transfixed by the television screen.
‘Do you want me to have an abortion? Is that what you’re saying?’ Joanna sobbed.
‘Babe, I’ve gotta go. Something important’s cropped up,’ Vinny said, as he slammed down the phone and ran towards the TV to turn up the volume.
Donald Walker was an unusual-looking man with a prominent nose and flat-top haircut which made his head look rather square. There was no mistaking the bloke, and Vinny could barely believe his eyes and luck as he realized the lad sitting next to Donald was his son Christopher, who now just happened to be Old Bill.
Vinny would never have recognized Christopher in a million years. He had been quite a cute kid when Vinny had last seen him, but now looked like a replica of his ugly big-nosed father. When the interview ended, Vinny sat on his big leather chair, put his hands behind his head, and grinned as he thought of the irony of it all. A nice little insider such as Christopher could come in well handy in the future, and Christopher could hardly refuse, could he? Not when he had witnessed Vinny kill Dave Phillips many moons ago, and lied to the Old Bill himself.
‘I’m back. I had a nice bath and scrubbed my penis so it is clean for the whores to suck later. You OK?’ Ahmed asked, shutting the office door behind him.
Vinny could not wipe the smile off his face. ‘I’m more than OK, mate. This day just keeps getting better and better.’
Freda was too proud to go to the toilet in a bed-pan, and even though her stomach was giving her a bit of gyp today, she still managed to shuffle to the bathroom in her slippers. Freda thought it was vulgar the way some of the patients would just pull the curtain around their bed and fart, shit, and stink the ward out. Most of the lazy bastards were quite capable of walking to the toilet too, but lacked the manners to do so.
The cubicle was occupied when Freda tried the handle, so she sat down on a nearby chair. At that very moment, a nurse walked out of one of the little private wards and Freda happened to glance inside before the door shut. It was Nancy Walker in there, she could have sworn it was. ‘Excuse me,’ Freda said, hobbling after the nurse.
‘What’s up, love?’
‘That room you just came out of. Is the patient’s name Nancy?’
‘Yes, it is Nancy, and thank the lord you know her. We had no idea who to contact because she hasn’t been saying very much. What’s her surname? Has she any relatives we can get in touch with?’
‘Her married surname is Butler, but before that it was Walker. After I’ve used the toilet, I’ll call my son. He’ll know who to contact. What’s wrong with her?’
‘OK, love. I shall inform the police who she is in case they need to speak to her again. Thank God we can now help her and reunite her with her family. The poor lass has obviously had a traumatic time of it.’
‘Is she OK? I mean, has something bad happened to her?’ Freda asked.
‘We’re really not sure, as the poor lass seems a little disorientated, but I am sure once she has her loved ones around her, she’ll soon perk up again.’
When the nurse walked away, Freda couldn’t help but smirk. If Nancy wasn’t speaking and seemed disorientated, she had obviously lost her marbles, and even though Freda didn’t wish the girl any harm, it served her parents right for not listening to her warning many moons ago.
Deciding to celebrate Johnny Preston’s death in style, Vinny Butler was drunk and coked-up to the eyeballs before he even got to the whorehouse in Dalston. Ahmed wasn’t far behind him, but was in a fitter state than Vinny to drive, so had offered to take his brand-new black Mercedes, providing they then got a cab home and Vinny took him to collect his car the following day.
Because he already felt out of it, Vinny hadn’t wanted the responsibility of Lenny tagging along tonight, but his little cousin had overheard him and Ahmed saying they were going to the whorehouse, and Vinny didn’t have the heart to tell Lenny that he couldn’t join them. The boy was obsessed with Layla, even spoke about her at times as though they were a couple.
‘Turn this one up, Ahmed. I like this song,’ Lenny insisted.
Vinny and Ahmed both chuckled as Lenny sang along to the Wurzels’ ‘I Am a Cider Drinker’. Some people saw Lenny as a bit dim, but he had a memory like an elephant when it came to music.
‘Right, we are here now, Champ. Did you wash your penis so it is nice and clean?’ Ahmed joked.