The Wronged: No parent should ever have to bury their child.... Kimberley Chambers
did not fool me one little bit. Molly would still be alive if it wasn’t for him. A clone of his father if I ever did see one.’
After being totally lost for words, Nancy Butler had now composed herself and was trying to think of a polite way to burst her friend’s bubble.
‘You don’t seem very happy for me, Nance. I thought you of all people would be thrilled. I can’t believe my mum and dad advised me to have an abortion after everything I’ve been through. As much as I love my parents, I need to get my own place. I feel smothered, living with them.’
Nancy leaned across the table and held Joanna’s hand. ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, Jo, but your mum and dad do have a point. If you keep the baby, Vinny is bound to find out at some stage. I can fully understand why you are so desperate for another child. I would feel exactly the same. But do you really want or need the aggravation of looking over your shoulder to protect that child for the rest of your life?’
Joanna snatched her hand away and glared at Nancy. ‘So, what exactly are you trying to say? That I should get rid of it?’
‘I don’t know what I’m trying to say, Jo. All I know is, if you keep the baby, Vinny is bound to find out about it.’
‘No, he won’t! Apart from you, my parents and my brother, nobody will ever know where I live or that the baby even exists. Unless you tell Michael.’
‘Oh, Jo, I would never betray your trust, you know that. I love you like a sister. I’m just worried you’ll never be rid of Vinny, that’s all. I am happy for you, honest I am.’
‘I should hope so too! No child will ever replace Molly, Nance, she was a one-off. But at least I have something to look forward to now, a future. As for Vinny, my dad reckons he’ll be put in prison for a very long time after what he did to Bobby Jackson. Dad said the police have been desperate to lock Vinny up for years and they won’t be lenient with him.’
Nancy forced a smile and tried to pretend she was happy for her friend, but inside she was worried sick. The police could lock Vinny up and throw away the key, but it still wouldn’t stop him claiming Joanna’s baby. But after everything the poor girl had gone through, how could she destroy her hopes of happiness by telling her that?
Back in Whitechapel, Vinny and Michael Butler were having a heart-to-heart about the future of their business. As a mark of respect, the club had not reopened since Molly’s death over a month ago, but Michael expected that to change after the funeral. However, Vinny had different ideas and had just dropped the bombshell that he wanted to sell up as soon as possible.
Michael knocked back his Scotch. He had to be diplomatic due to the circumstances, but wasn’t about to be walked all over. After all, he was joint owner of the club. ‘Look, Vin, I can fully understand why you don’t want to open up again, but I need the dosh. You’ve got other income from whatever you get up to with Ahmed, but I bloody well ain’t. I’ve got the boys to think of and Nancy.’
Vinny sneered. ‘Playing happy families with Nancy again, are you? When you gonna clock on that she’s a psycho, drags you down and you’d be far better off without her?’
‘Probably the same time you clock on Ahmed’s a wrong ’un. Look, bruv, I don’t want a war of words with you, but now is not the right time for us to sell the club.’
‘Yes, it is. We could start afresh, invest our money in a new venture. Bill Evans opened one of them posh wine bars up town last year. Raking it in, he is. I saw him the other week in a brand spanking new Rolls-Royce. It’s had it round here now, Michael, and we aren’t ever going to get all the custom back we’ve lost. I watched the news last night: unemployment at an all-time high. We need to go where the money is.’
‘Have you forgotten that you’re looking at a long stretch inside?’ Michael asked. Vinny had been charged with GBH with intent for the attack on Bobby Jackson and had been told by his brief to expect a lengthy custodial sentence.
‘’Course I haven’t forgot. That’s why I want to set the ball rolling now. We can be long up and running before my trial starts, then you can be earning fortunes for us while I’m away. No way I’m ever gonna work here again, Michael. I’m sure the place is fucking cursed. First the fire, then the shooting and now Molly. Whitechapel’s finished for us. There’s nothing here for us any more.’
As Vinny topped their glasses up, Michael mulled over his brother’s words. Vinny did have a point, but selling up was still a big ask. ‘I’m going to open up again this weekend. You don’t have to be here. Let’s see if we’ve lost any more custom and we’ll go from there.’
‘Have you not listened to a word I’ve said, bruv? I told you I wanna get rid. Never forget if it wasn’t for my business brain you would currently be earning a oner a week fixing poxy cars. I set this place up with Roy’s help, not yours. So what I say fucking goes, understand?’
The sound of the buzzer stopped it turning into a full-scale argument. Vinny stood up, strolled towards the entrance and gave his brother one last warning as he did so: ‘If you refuse to sell, best you have the readies to buy me out, Michael. I’m sure Ahmed would jump at the chance of becoming my new business partner if you’re too dense to think ahead.’
Fully expecting to see his mum, his son or Ahmed, Vinny’s smug expression was soon wiped off his face when he saw six Old Bill on the doorstep. ‘What do you mob want?’
DI Smithers stared Vinny in the eyes. ‘Vinny Butler, you are being arrested on suspicion of murdering Bobby Kenneth Jackson. You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you do say will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence …’
‘Bruv, ring my brief,’ Vinny yelled. ‘I have just buried my daughter, you unfeeling bunch of cunts,’ he spat, smashing his fist against the wall.
Hearing the commotion, Michael ran to his brother’s side. ‘What the hell’s going on? Vin ain’t done nothing wrong. We’ve been at Molly’s funeral, and only just got back from the wake.’
While Vinny struggled and cursed as he was handcuffed then slung in the back of the meat wagon, DS Townsend took Michael to one side. ‘Unfortunately for your brother, Bobby Jackson passed away earlier this evening.’
Michael sank to his haunches in shock. This change of circumstance was bound to mean that his brother would have to await his trial in prison.
‘I am sorry for your family that this happened today of all days. I can only imagine how tough Molly’s funeral must have been for you all,’ Townsend said. Vinny aside, the DS felt no hatred towards the Butler clan. During the investigation into Molly’s death he’d got to know the family a bit better, and Michael in particular struck him as a decent bloke.
When Townsend walked away, Michael went back inside the club. He rang Vinny’s brief, left a message on his answerphone, then poured himself another large Scotch. No way did he want to see his brother behind bars, but at least now Vinny was in no position to force the sale of the business. He was going to be the one calling the shots for a change.
Growing up as Vinny and Roy’s younger brother had not been easy for Michael Butler, but with Vinny liable to be banged up for the foreseeable and poor Roy brown bread, this truly was his time to prove all the doubters wrong, Vinny included. And prove them wrong he most certainly would.
Little Vinny sat up and put his head in his hands. He had an awful hangover and an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. His best pal Ben Bloggs should have been at his side today, but he’d not been coping as well as he had since Molly’s death, spending all his time holed up in his bedroom. Every time Little Vinny had tried to persuade Ben to go out somewhere he’d made excuses, saying he didn’t feel well, and he’d rather stay in that squalid pit he called home. But when Little Vinny called at the Bloggs’ place this morning so they could go to the funeral together,