The Betrayer. Kimberley Chambers
eye on the other two. Tommy’s been acting strange all night. I’m sure he’s pissed and I’ve just seen Susan clump Sylvie’s little girl.’
‘Who the fuck is Sylvie?’
Maureen pointed her out. ‘She’s new round ’ere. Comes from Hackney, she does, and has just moved into the flats round by Old Man Tatler’s. I caught Susan picking on her little ’un the other day as well. Pushed her off the swing in the park, she did.’
Ethel tutted. ‘Vindictive little fucker, that daughter of yours. I’d brainwash her if she was mine. ’Ere, get us another drink, Maur, I’m empty again.’
Maureen stood up. She was desperate for a top-up herself.
Clocking Wendy studying her, Ethel put her hand up her skirt and adjusted herself. ‘Cutting me ha’penny in half, these bleedin’ knickers,’ she shouted.
‘Do you have to do that, Mum?’
Ethel stared at Kenny with a devilish look in her eye. ‘It’s my crotch, I’ll do what I fuckin’ well like with it.’
‘Time to go,’ Wendy said, nudging him. She’d only come in the first place because he’d promised her a new fur coat.
Kenny sighed. ‘We’re gonna make a move now, Mum. Wendy’s not feeling too well, she’s got a touch of flu.’
‘Flu! Fuckin’ flu! More like miserableitis or stuck-up-cunt disease, yer mean,’ Ethel cackled.
Kissing her on the cheek, Kenny ignored his mother’s nasty comments and headed off to find Maureen. ‘Happy birthday,’ he said, handing her two tenners. ‘I’ve gotta go now, Maur. Wendy’s not well. Treat yourself to something nice, eh?’
Maureen angrily chucked the money back at him. She wasn’t a bloody charity case. ‘Look Kenny, you don’t have to make up for yer brother being an arsehole. Please don’t insult me, I don’t want yer money.’
Looking sheepish, Kenny pocketed the money, said goodbye and grabbed Wendy’s hand. The quicker he made an exit, the better.
As the police van drove towards the Ocean Estate, various orders were given out. All the officers present were more than aware of the Hutton clan. They’d had many run-ins with them over the years. The old man was a waster, a two-bit thief and a drunk, the eldest two of the three kids were shoplifters and bullies, even the gran was a well-known fence and on their wanted list. All the Old Bill were excited about the outcome of this particular arrest. To nick a Hutton for something big was fantastic news, kind of payback for all the years they’d run riot.
Back at Maureen’s, the celebration was in full swing and everyone was doing the Hokey Cokey.
With the help of a few alcoholic beverages, Maureen was now the life and soul of the party. Standing in a circle with Sandra and Brenda either side of her, she was enjoying herself immensely. James and a couple of the other kids were in the middle of the circle and Maureen’s heart was filled with emotion as she watched her youngest having a ball. Her other two were nowhere to be seen, but that was nothing unusual. Susan had never joined in with anything family-oriented in her life and Tommy felt he was far too old and too cool to be dancing with his mum.
Maureen bent down and tickled James’s waist. ‘Bend your knees, James, and shout, “Ra, ra, ra!”’
James giggled. He loved the party songs and knew most of the actions off by heart.
As the Hokey Cokey came to an end, a drunken Sandra decided it was time for a speech. ‘You see this woman ’ere,’ she said loudly. ‘This woman ’ere is the bestest friend I could ever wish for. I love ’er to death, we all love ’er to death and I think we should sing to her.’
Realising there was a party going on, the police decided to park away from the house. The last thing they wanted was to be seen and give young Tommy time to do a runner. Creeping towards the front door, they awaited their orders from their superior.
‘Right, lads. Go, go, go.’
Sandra was standing on a chair, waving her arms about as if she was conducting an orchestra. All eyes were focused on Maureen.
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday, dear Maureen,
Happy—
They never got to chant the last line. The police entering the house spelled the end of the singalong. Maureen Hutton’s birthday party was well and truly over.
‘THOMAS ARTHUR HUTTON, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Terence John Smith. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be put into writing and given in evidence …’
The party fell into a shocked silence as a screaming Tommy was dragged from the room.
Ethel was the first to find her voice. She hated the filth with a passion. As she leaped off the armchair, she laid into the coppers with her fists.
Maureen, who had initially felt her legs buckle underneath her, pulled herself together and followed suit. ‘Leave my boy alone, you no-good bastards,’ she screamed as she chased them into the hallway.
‘He’s only a kid, get your dirty hands off him,’ Sandra yelled, desperate to stick up for her pal.
One of the coppers pushed Sandra out of the way and sent her flying. A free-for-all followed as Sandra’s husband, Pete, went apeshit. Like true cockneys, most of the other guests quickly joined in. The fracas went on for a good ten minutes or so and there were four other arrests made, which included Ethel. The spirited old gran had smacked one officer in the teeth and kicked another in the bollocks.
Finally, some kind of order resumed and an extremely pissed-off DC Perryman re-entered the living room. ‘Tommy needs an adult to accompany him down to the station. The four in the van are no use to him – any other offers?’ he asked sarcastically.
Cuddling a hysterical James, Maureen immediately stood up. ‘I’m his mother. I’ll go with him.’
‘Let me come too, Mum, I wanna see Tommy. Please, Mummy, please,’ James sobbed.
With the police waiting impatiently, Maureen had very little time to soothe her youngest. Assuring him that everything was gonna be OK, she handed him to Sandra. ‘Look after him and keep an eye on Susan for me, mate.’
Sandra nodded. None of the women would leave the house until Maureen returned. They were her friends and would tidy the place up and be there for her when she got home. ‘Good luck, Maur. There’s bound to be some cock-up. Your Tommy might be a little sod, but he’s no fucking killer.’
Maureen wasn’t allowed to travel with her son on the journey. The police had called in reinforcements and she was shoved into a car on her own. She didn’t know where Ethel or the others were, so maybe they were with Tommy. Everything had happened so quickly, she’d had little time to think about the actual accusation. It couldn’t be true. The Old Bill must have been desperate to pull someone in and, knowing her Tommy was a local tear-away, had picked on him. Maybe they thought her son was in the know. Being so streetwise, they probably thought that he’d heard a whisper and would grass up the real killer.
Sandra ordered Susan to put James to bed and then go to bed herself. She needed to discuss the situation with the others and didn’t want to say too much in front of the kids. James was too young to really take in what they were talking about, but Susan had ears like a bat.
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