Payback. Kimberley Chambers
all right, Queenie?’ asked Nosy Hilda.
‘Mind your own fucking business for once,’ Queenie snapped, barging past her open-mouthed neighbour. She ran up her sister’s stairs and into the bedroom. ‘You are going to the funeral even if I have to drag you there. Now, get your arse out of bed and get a grip woman.’
‘I can’t face it, Queen. My Lenny knew I loved him, so did Roy. I don’t have to go to no funeral to prove that to anyone.’
Queenie ripped the blankets off her sister just as she had with her daughter earlier. ‘Now, you listen to me, Vivian Harris. Get out of that bed and get yourself dressed. It’s unheard of in our neck of the woods for a woman to miss her own child’s funeral – and may God be my judge, you ain’t gonna be the first. We’re the talk of the town as it is, what with Vinny having to kick your front door in. I will not have our boys’ funerals become a laughing stock, not on your nelly. Now, up you bloody well get.’
Albie Butler could feel his heart beating like a drum as he approached St Leonard’s church. He hadn’t spoken to Vinny since his son had threatened to kill him and he was also on bad terms with Queenie and Viv. Even his daughter and eldest grandson hated his guts.
‘What’s up, Albie?’ Bert asked, when his brother stopped in his tracks.
‘Let’s wait here. Big Stan is standing outside the church and I know he’ll kick off if he sees me. I told him I had cancer that time and he bought me drinks and bunged me money,’ Albie explained, truly regretting his terrible lie. He had only told his family and neighbours he had cancer so he could have contact with his children again. His deceit had backfired though. Vinny had found out and tried to blackmail him, and when Albie refused to get involved in his son’s evil plan to ruin Roy’s engagement, Vinny had outed his lie in front of half of Whitechapel.
‘The funeral cars have arrived by the looks of it, Albie. Let’s go and find your Michael. He won’t allow anybody to have a go at you.’
Albie still had a good relationship with his youngest son. When Vinny had forced him to leave the East End, it was Michael who had driven him down to Ipswich to start his new life. Moving in with Bert had been a blessing. Albie had cut down his drinking and really sorted his life out. He had even met a lovely lady. Dorothy now lived with him and Bert and she was an absolute diamond. She treated him with far more respect than Queenie ever had. His marriage to Queenie had been doomed as soon as she had fallen pregnant. From the moment Vinny was born, Vivian had taken over his husbandly duties and he had been pushed out of the family circle like an unwanted bag of old rubbish.
‘Dad, I’ve spoken to Mum and Vinny and they’ve agreed that it’s only right you sit in the front pew with us,’ Michael said, hugging his worried-looking father.
‘Thank you, Michael.’ Albie’s eyes filled up with tears and he was too choked to say more. He had loved Roy and was so glad his son had taken the trouble to phone him before ending his life. Their conversation had been relatively short, but bridges had been built, truths had been told, and that meant the world to Albie.
The actual service was a far cry from the typical East End funeral. Both Queenie and Vivian regularly visited their mother’s grave and spoke to her as though she were still alive, but neither was particularly religious. Their lives and luck had taken far too much of a bashing for them to truly believe in God. When the vicar had visited her at home to make arrangements, Queenie had insisted that the pianist play songs rather than hymns.
‘Bye Bye Blackbird’ was the song she had sung to all her children to get them to sleep when they were babies, so seeing as her Roy was now asleep for ever, it seemed an appropriate choice. Lenny was a big Elvis fan, so Queenie had chosen ‘The Wonder of You’ especially for her nephew. Vivian had been in no fit state to have any input into the playlist, but Queenie was sure her sister would have opted for the same song, as it had been Lenny’s all-time favourite. ‘On Mother Kelly’s Doorstep’ was Queenie’s final request. Both she and Vivian loved that song and had taught it to their offspring, so Queenie saw it as a fitting family tribute.
Vinny locked eyes with his father as he sat down in the pew and gave him a polite nod. Michael had agreed to cover up that it was Vinny who had been driving the night Lenny was killed on condition that he promised to make things right with their dad. Roy had requested the same thing in his suicide note, and Vinny knew he owed it to his brothers to abide by their wishes.
‘Today we are here to remember the lives of Roy Butler and Leonard William Harris,’ the vicar’s voice boomed.
Squeezing Vivian’s hand, Queenie glanced down the pew. Albie, Vinny, Michael and Little Vinny all had tears rolling down their cheeks. Roy’s ex-fiancée and her parents were seated in the opposite pew. Colleen was sobbing, but Queenie was annoyed with her. Roy’s only child, Emily-Mae, was four now and she had wanted the girl to attend her father’s funeral but Colleen had rebuffed the request. Queenie hadn’t seen her granddaughter since Colleen had returned to her native Ireland, and she had been desperate to tell the child what a wonderful man her daddy was.
‘God! What fucking God?’ Vivian muttered as the vicar began sermonizing about the afterlife.
‘Shush, Viv. Your voice carries and people can hear you,’ Queenie whispered.
‘Couldn’t give a toss what people think. No God would have taken my boy from me. That’s how I know he don’t fucking exist.’
When the pianist played ‘The Wonder of You’, Vivian’s anger turned to anguish. ‘My baby. My beautiful boy. Mummy loved you so much, Lenny. You were my world.’
Vinny bowed his head when the vicar recited the Lord’s Prayer. He had begged his brother to give a eulogy on behalf of the family, but Michael had flatly refused. ‘Accidental or not, both Roy and Champ would still be alive if it wasn’t for your mistakes, Vin. The least you owe them is to stand up, be a man, and say a few words,’ had been Michael’s blunt reply.
After the prayer, the vicar called Vinny up to speak. Feeling physically sick, he took the piece of paper out of his pocket and glanced at the sea of faces all staring his way. The church was packed to the brim. ‘My brother Roy and cousin Champ were two of the nicest people you could ever wish to meet. Both had a wicked sense of humour, especially Champ, who would have me in hysterics every day with his off-the-cuff one-liners and jokes.’
Knowing he was about to mug himself off by crying, Vinny paused. As he took a deep breath to try and compose himself, he locked eyes with Ahmed and knew he could not continue. Guilt would not allow him to do so. ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry,’ Vinny said, handing the piece of paper to the vicar.
When her tearful son sat back down, Queenie bravely stood up. ‘I would like to say a few words and I don’t need no piece of paper.’
She turned to face the mourners. ‘Roy and Lenny’s passing has left a huge gap in all our lives, but instead of being morbid, I want to share with you some of the good times. Roy was a finicky little sod as a kid, would never eat his vegetables. I tried the old clout-round-the-earhole routine and, when that didn’t work, I threatened to put him in the orphanage. Soon ate his greens after that, he did.’
Queenie paused as the mourners chuckled. She then went on to tell other funny stories about her son, before reverting to a serious tone of voice. ‘The happiest I had ever seen my Roy was when he met Colleen. Loved the bones of her, he did, and I am so glad they had a beautiful daughter together. In Emily-Mae, part of my Roy will always live on, and that is a great comfort to me. Due to his injuries, my son was not happy in the latter part of his life and I like to think he is in a better place now, God rest his soul.’
‘And I hope he’s looking after my Lenny for me,’ a sobbing Vivian shouted out.
‘Of course he is, Vivvy. You can be assured of that. Which brings me to Lenny. Such a wonderful boy, whose smile could light up a room. Never stopped laughing, that lad. I bet he’s looking down on me now, begging me to tell some funny stories about him. Well, Champ – as my boys liked to call him – was a brilliant little DJ, but he would drive me and