The Trap (9 page)

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Authors: Kimberley Chambers

Tags: #Thrillers, #General, #Suspense, #Fiction

BOOK: The Trap
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‘Yes please, and can I have a can of cola as well?’ Brenda asked cheekily.

Donald took an instant dislike to Brenda. She had been far too brazen asking for a drink for his liking and he didn’t want his Nancy copying that type of behaviour. He had brought her up to have impeccable manners.

‘I really like your café, Sir. Does that play music?’ Tommy asked Donald, pointing at the jukebox.

Donald smiled before answering the boy. Tommy had already won him over by calling him Sir.

‘There you go,’ Mary said, putting a plate of chips and four cans of cola on the table. She knew why Donald had insisted on meeting their children’s friends. He was a very particular man and was bound to interrogate them to ensure they came from decent families.

‘So, what does your dad do? Does he have a job?’ Donald asked Tommy.

‘Yeah, my dad grafts really hard, Sir. He works down the docks.’

‘And what about your mother? Does she work too?’

‘No, Sir. I have two younger brothers, so my mum stays at home to look after them.’

Mary was a bundle of nerves as Donald turned to Brenda. ‘And what about you, Brenda? Does your dad go to work?’

‘My dad don’t live with us any more. My mum has chucked him out. He was always drunk, but my mum didn’t chuck him out because of that. He got another woman pregnant. I’m not meant to know that, but I heard my mum and aunt talking about it in the kitchen last night.’

Absolutely appalled, Donald glanced at his wife.

Mary couldn’t look at her husband. ‘Oh well, I suppose you’d better hurry up and eat those chips in case your mums are wondering where you are. Me and Donald don’t want to get ourselves into trouble for you two being late home,’ Mary said, adding a false chuckle.

‘I told my mum I was coming here,’ Tommy said.

‘Yeah, so did I,’ Brenda added.

‘So, do you have brothers and sisters, Brenda?’ Donald asked.

‘Yeah, I got three brothers, Vinny, Roy and Michael. Lenny is like a brother as well but he is really my cousin.’

Recognizing the name Vinny, Donald felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. ‘And do your brothers work? Or are they still at school?’ Donald pried.

‘They have got their own business. They own the snooker club just around the corner. Michael used to be a mechanic but Vinny made him give his job up. Everybody knows my brothers. My mum reckons they’re more famous than the Kray twins,’ Brenda explained proudly.

Having already heard enough, Donald stood up and gestured for his wife to follow him into the kitchen. ‘Did you know that our daughter’s friend was part of that family of scoundrels?’ he asked Mary accusingly.

‘No, of course I didn’t. I’m not a bloody mind-reader, Donald.’

‘Well, I’m afraid the friendship will have to end. I will not have my Nancy involved with such people. You shall tell her tonight that she isn’t to be friends with Brenda any more. Our Nancy will soon make other friends,’ Donald stated.

‘I can’t stop them from being friends, Donald. They sit next to one another at bloody school. I really do think you are overreacting a bit. Brenda might be a little rough around the edges, but she seems a nice-enough child. Not all children have been lucky enough to have the upbringing that ours have.’

‘I am not overreacting, Mary. I obviously just care about my children’s welfare a tad more than you do. Tomorrow, I want you to pay a visit to Nancy’s headmaster and demand that she be moved into a different class.’

‘I will do no such thing,’ Mary said, her eyes blazing with anger.

‘Well, if you won’t, then I will,’ Donald argued.

Mary was absolutely raging now. ‘Are you determined to balls things up for us here, Donald? Our new business is a roaring success already. Our children are content and have new friends, yet you still can’t be happy. For your information, Shirley was telling me about the Butler family only today. She said Brenda’s mum is a lovely lady with a spotlessly clean house. She also spoke highly of the three boys. Obviously, as we already know, Shirley did say that they are a family not to be messed with, which is why you will not stop our Nancy from being friends with Brenda. For some reason, you seem intent on bringing trouble to our door and if you carry on doing so, and ruin our wonderful business that we have worked so hard for, I swear I will divorce you. Now, get off your high horse and leave me to decide what is and isn’t best for our children, OK?’

Totally gobsmacked by the way his wife had just spoken to him, Donald decided that he was out of his depth with this particular argument. ‘OK, we will do things your way, Mary. But, if that despicable family ever bring trouble to us or our children’s lives, it will be me who files for divorce.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

Queenie spent the morning of her birthday putting up her Christmas tree and decorations. Vinnie had organised a small party for her at the club later, which had been Lenny’s idea.

‘What you doing now, Mum?’ Brenda asked, when her mother climbed up the stepladder.

‘Putting these paper chains across the ceiling to make it look a bit more festive.’

‘Mum, you know your birthday party?’

Securing the paper chain with two drawing pins, Queenie stepped down from the ladder. ‘Yes.’

‘Would it be OK if I invited my friend Nancy?’ Brenda asked hopefully.

Queenie smiled. ‘Of course you can, angel. You’d best invite her little brother as well though. You can’t invite one without the other.’

Over at the club, Vinny had been up since dawn getting things ready for his mum’s birthday party. ‘About fucking time you showed your face and I hope you’ve got rid of that slag,’ Vinny said as his brother appeared looking dishevelled.

Roy sighed. He didn’t often allow birds to stay upstairs in his bed. Once or twice a month, top whack. Yet every time he did so, Vinny would always have something to say about it. Deciding to stand up to his brother for once, Roy glared at him. ‘The slag as you so politely called her went home a couple of hours ago. What is your problem, Vin? I’m a single eighteen-year-old fella, so why is it a crime for me to get me nuts in here and there?’

‘No-one said it was a crime, Roy, but you knew how important it was to me that we made Mum’s birthday special this year. After all the shit she has been through recently, don’t you think she deserves to be treated like the Queen?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Grab hold of the end of that banner. I want to put it on the wall facing the door,’ Vinny said.

‘Where’s Michael?’ Roy asked.

‘You tell me. Went to some silly Mod party after we let him leave early last night. He’s probably still under the covers with some slag as well.’

‘What time is Mum’s present arriving?’ Roy was desperate to change the subject.

‘Twelve on the dot and we need to be there to see her face when she sees it, which is why I needed you to get your arse out of bed early today.’

‘Look, I’m sorry. But please, can we just forget about this now, Vin? We don’t wanna spoil Mum’s party, do we?’

‘Yep, let’s forget about it, but in future, Roy, business and family before pleasure, eh?’

Roy nodded. ‘Of course.’

Johnny Preston was not a happy chappie. Vinny Butler ran the firm, the other brothers were nobodies compared to him, everybody knew that, yet catching Vinny on his own was proving to be a difficult task.

‘Can’t we just confront Vinny and Roy? We can take the pair of them on,’ Dave Phillips suggested.

‘Nope. I only deal with the organ grinder. No point involving the monkey. We’ll get him on his own, Dave. Patience is a virtue,’ Johnny replied as he drove past the club. ‘I wonder what’s going on in there? There’s a bird turned up with balloons now. Perhaps it’s his mummy’s birthday and the incestuous freak is throwing her a party.’

‘He reminds me of that geezer in the film
Psycho
, but I can’t remember his name,’ Dave added.

Johnny burst out laughing. ‘Great call, me ole cocker. Vinny Butler, the East End’s answer to Norman Bates.’

Mary was busy wiping down the tables when young Brenda wandered into the café. ‘Hello, love. Nancy’s upstairs with Christopher. Pop up and see her if you like.’

When Brenda ran up the stairs, Mary went into the kitchen to remind her husband of the conversation they’d had the other day.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t say anything rude to the awful child,’ Donald said cuttingly.

‘Mum, Dad.’ Nancy ran into the kitchen with Christopher and Brenda by her side.

Noticing that her daughter’s eyes were shining with excitement, Mary smiled. ‘What is it? Do you want to go out to play?’

‘No. I’ve been invited to a party and so has Christopher. It’s Brenda’s mum’s birthday.’

Donald frowned. If it was Queenie Butler’s birthday party then her sons were bound to attend and there was no way his daughter and son were mixing with that motley crew. ‘You and Christopher are far too young to be attending adult parties, Nancy. I’m sorry, but I will not allow you to go.’

‘Oh, please, Dad,’ Nancy begged, her lip trembling. She wanted to cry but didn’t want to make a show of herself in front of Brenda.

Mary glared at her husband and then turned back to her distraught daughter. ‘Where is the party, love? And what time is it? You’re too young to be out late at night.’

‘It’s not at night, Mrs Walker. It’s being held this afternoon in my brother’s snooker club. My brother says it has to end by teatime because he has to open the club to his punters of an evening,’ Brenda explained.

Donald sneered at Brenda’s use of the word punters. She sounded like a docker or a navvy. Her speech was so unfeminine for a little girl.

‘I think it’s OK for Nancy and Christopher to go to the party, Donald, as long as they are back here by six, don’t you? The snooker club is only around the corner, isn’t it?’ Mary said, giving her husband the evil eye.

‘Yesss! I love parties,’ Christopher shouted, clapping his hands with sheer delight.

Nancy was thrilled by her mum’s remarks and both girls jumped up and down with glee.

With a face like a smacked arse, Donald glanced at his wife, then his children. ‘Do whatever you bloody well like,’ he spat.

Queenie and Vivian glanced at one another in amazement as the two delivery men brought a big wooden object inside.

‘Aw, Queenie, ain’t it grand? It’s one of them posh radiograms,’ Vivian whispered in her sister’s ear.

‘But we ain’t got no records to play on it,’ Queenie whispered back. Her only access to music was the radio she had in the kitchen.

After thanking the delivery men, Roy walked into the lounge with a cardboard box. ‘Put one on, Vin,’ he ordered his brother.

When the tones of Mrs Mills blasted out of the speakers, Queenie and Vivian looked at one another in delight.

‘Oh, ain’t it wonderful,’ Vivian said, grinning at her sister.

‘Bloody amazing,’ Queenie replied. No longer did she have to put up with Albie and scrub his skid-marked pants until her hands bled so that when she put them on the washing line the neighbours wouldn’t think they were a dirty family. Instead, she had a fabulous radiogram with Mrs Mills’ LPs to entertain her and Vivian on these cold winter nights. Queenie stood up, put one arm around Vinny’s neck and the other around Roy’s. ‘Thank you so much, boys. Not just for the radiogram, I mean for everything.’

Queenie Butler felt like the luckiest mum in the world when she walked into the club and saw the effort her wonderful sons had gone to on her behalf. There was a big banner wishing her a happy birthday, balloons, a buffet, a DJ, and most importantly friends and family members. ‘Aw, this is wonderful, boys,’ Queenie said, grinning at each of her three sons in turn.

Vinny sneered when she rested her gaze on Michael. Instead of being there to help him organize the bash, his youngest brother had only just turned up. ‘Don’t be thanking him, Mum. Unlike me and Roy, Michael did sod all to help.’

‘Oh, don’t have a go at him, Vinny. He’s only a baby still,’ Queenie said, stroking Michael’s cheek fondly.

‘No, he isn’t a baby, Mum, Michael’s a big boy now and for not turning up early like he was supposed to this morning, he will have his wages docked.’

Not wanting to get into a spat with his elder brother, Michael gave his mum a birthday hug. ‘You look ever so nice today. That suit looks mint.’

Queenie grinned with pride. She and Vivian always liked to think of themselves as the best-dressed women in the East End and today Queenie was wearing her ultra-modern apple-green skirt suit.

‘Hi, Michael. Sorry I’m a bit late,’ said a pretty girl with long blonde hair.

‘This is my girlfriend, Linda, Mum. You didn’t mind me inviting her, did you? I really wanted yous two to meet.’

When Queenie clapped her hands with glee and started fawning over the girl, Vinny stomped off in a temper. How dare Michael take it upon himself to invite some tart to the party without even asking his permission first. Talk about take a liberty.

Back at the café, Mary was getting more annoyed by the second at her husband’s childish behaviour. Donald had barely uttered a word to her since she had allowed the children to go to Brenda’s mum’s party and the silence was becoming unbearable. ‘Two ham, egg and chips, Donald,’ she said, walking into the kitchen.

Donald didn’t answer. Instead he just took the ham out of the fridge.

‘I am getting immensely sick of you acting like a ten-year-old, Donald. Even our children are more mature than you are. Nancy and Christopher have only gone to a little party, for Christ’s sake. They will be back by teatime. It’s boring and unhealthy for them to be cooped up in here with us all the time.’

‘I don’t mind them going to normal people’s parties, but you know how I feel about that family, yet you still allowed them to go. That Brenda is a horrible child and I hate our Nancy being involved with her.’

Desperate to make things right again between them, Mary put her arms around his waist. ‘I know what you mean, love, but we can’t wrap the kids in cotton wool. They are old enough now to choose their own friends.’

Donald sighed worriedly. ‘More’s the pity, my dear. More’s the pity.’

Queenie Butler had thoroughly enjoyed her birthday party. She and Vivian usually kept themselves to themselves, but Vinny had invited a few of the neighbours and apart from Sheila Jackson’s husband, Kenny, who was drunk and becoming a fucking nuisance, it had been a lovely day.

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