Backstabber: The No. 1 bestseller at her shocking, gripping best – this book has a twist and a sting in its tail!. Kimberley Chambers
your love life, Don Juan?’ She’d been fuming on learning he was seeing Bella again, but because of everything that had happened since, had been unable to give her son a hard time about it. She’d had more important things on her mind.
‘Do we have to talk about my love life? I’m a walking car crash when it comes to women. The one thing I do know is, I do not and have never loved Katy Spencer.’
‘Should of thought of that before you shoved your dingle-dangle up her and got her pregnant twice! I hope you’re popping back to Tunbridge Wells still. You can’t abandon Nathan. That boy needs a father.’ Queenie purposely didn’t mention her granddaughter Ellie. She had very little time for that spoiled brat. Its mother’s double, that one was.
‘I saw Nathan and Ellie last week, and I’m gonna drive down to Tunbridge Wells again tomorrow. I tried to tell Katy me and her were over, but she’ll do anything to keep me trotting back there once a week and staying overnight. Including turning the kids against me, blackmailing them to make me feel guilty, and threatening to move to France with them to live with her parents, who she doesn’t even get on with.’
‘She knows a good thing when she sees it, that’s why. Once a gold-digger always a gold-digger. And what about the other one? Still Alfie-ing it up round there, are you?’ Michael had always been one for the ladies, even at an early age. That’s why Queenie had many years ago nicknamed him after Michael Caine’s character in the film Alfie.
‘It’s complicated, Mum. I know you hate her, but I will always have feelings for Bella. We were truly happy once, and we’re both so proud of Camila. There’s a lot of water under the bridge though, and Antonio to contend with. No way will I be jumping in feet first. I’m just gonna take things slowly and see how it goes.’
Coughing at the same time she said the word ‘Slut’, Queenie asked after Camila before chatting about the funeral. ‘Hope I’m never forced to be in that Gary Allen’s company again. See the face on it? Needs a stocking of hot shit slapped around his clock, he does. I mean, Little Vinny fell over backwards to accommodate his and Meg’s wishes. He even allowed the dead bodies of Oliver and Sammi to be gawped at by all and sundry at the Allens’ house. And we had to listen to all that Catholic claptrap today, being sprayed with that bastard holy water. That boy was a Butler, should be buried alongside our family.’
‘Little Vinny did what he thought was best. Meg Allen wanted Sammi to be buried near her nan, and Little Vinny was adamant Oliver be buried with Sammi-Lou. That cemetery isn’t exactly a million miles away, Mum. I’ll drive you over there whenever you want.’
Queenie shook her head vehemently, and in a flippant tone replied,‘Nah. Don’t bother. I’m not a Catholic. Would rather stick with me own.’
Vinny Butler was stunned to say the least. Neither he nor Eddie had expected to receive any more unwanted parcels. They’d put the earlier ones down to the Turks. ‘I dunno what to say to you, mate. I’m just as gobsmacked as you. Perhaps you were right in the beginning? You know, about the pikeys sending ’em.’
Eddie Mitchell was in a Scotch-fuelled, extremely bad mood. ‘Nah. What if there are more Turks queuing up to shoot us, Vin? Just because those three fucktards are locked up doesn’t mean to say we’re in the clear. And this shit has sod-all to do with me in the first place, does it?’
Vinny ran his fingers through his dark Brylcreemed hair. ‘No, it doesn’t, Ed. But who’s to say this crap we keep getting sent was anything to do with the Turks in the first place? Could be any nutter sending such shit, and those bible quotes get more wacky by the fucking delivery. Not knocking you, but neither of us have been angels in our time, so it could be aimed at both or either of us. What I suggest is that tomorrow, we get some cameras put up outside. CCTV will catch the bastards.’
Eddie slammed his glass against the table. ‘Bar the O’Haras, I’ve kept myself out of the firing line for years. I really don’t need agg like this at my age, mate. I’ve got young kids and a wife I adore. I would never have agreed to our business venture in the first place had I known we’d be having this conversation now. I’ve just lost one of my best men thanks to you, Vin, and I don’t intend on losing any more. I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do, shall I? I will insure this gaff up to the hilt and, on my kids’ lives, any more grief, I will set fire to the cunt personally. Get my drift?’
‘Mum, what was I like when I was little?’
Frankie Mitchell managed a weak smile. Georgie had certainly warmed towards her since Stuart’s death, even though she still spent most of her time holed up in the bedroom with Harry. ‘You were always headstrong, wasn’t she, Joey? Do you remember that time she ran away from that pub? You gave us a real fright.’
Georgie giggled. ‘Where did I go?’
‘You were found up a tree, if I remember correctly,’ Joey informed his niece.
‘And you were such a fussy eater, you’d turn your nose up at most things. The one thing you would always eat though were those tinned sausages with baked beans. They were your favourite.’
Georgie shuddered. ‘Nanny Alice says you should never eat meat out of tins. She says the animal needs to be recently killed.’
Frankie topped up her glass of wine. Alcohol had become her friend these past couple of weeks, helped to lessen the feelings of pure panic that would wash over her. The police had refused to release Stuart’s body immediately; therefore his funeral had only taken place yesterday. It had been terribly sad, and without drinking half a litre of vodka beforehand, Frankie would have been unable to attend.
‘You look sad again, Mum. You thinking about Stuart?’ Georgie enquired.
Frankie plastered a fake smile on her face. ‘No. I’m thinking about our day out tomorrow. Calum’s dad rung up earlier and invited us over. You’ll get to meet Regan, Calum’s brother, too. And if you promise to come back and look after Harry, you can go out and play there.’
Georgie wanted to laugh at her mother’s use of the word ‘play’. How old did she think she and Harry were, five? Instead, she smiled sweetly. ‘I promise, Mum.’
Georgie O’Hara could not help but smirk as she skipped up the stairs to tell her brother the news. She currently had her mother in the palm of her hand, and that was exactly where she wanted her.
Eddie Mitchell handed Vinny a drink. He’d calmed down a bit now, having flown off the handle earlier. He hadn’t apologized to his business partner though. Eddie wasn’t a man who used the word ‘sorry’ very often, he never had been. ‘Did Oliver and Sammi have a good send-off, mate?’
Vinny shrugged. ‘As well as could be expected. Gary Allen had a face like a smacked arse throughout, refused to speak to any of my family. But I suppose that was to be expected. Little Vinny held himself together well, so did Calum and Regan.’
‘What about your mum and Michael?’
‘They’re OK. Us Butlers are professional fucking mourners now, the amount of deaths we’ve had to deal with. How about Stuart’s?’ Vinny asked. With both funerals within a day of one another, he and Eddie had decided to just attend their own family’s rather than each other’s.
Eddie sighed. ‘It was sad, Stuart’s mum was in bits. Nice woman, she is. I’ll keep in touch with her, bung her a few quid ’ere and there. It’s the least I can do, really.’
‘Was Frankie OK?’
‘She’d been boozing and fell arse over tit on top of some of the floral tributes, but apart from being tearful, she got through it better than I thought she would. The devil’s spawn didn’t come. I told Frankie I didn’t want ’em there in case they upset Stu’s mum. I sent a couple of the lads round Frankie’s to watch over them. Brett wanted to be there though. Loved Stuart, he did. I feel sorry for that poor little sod. He’s been living with us the past couple of weeks, don’t wanna go home. He’s great with my Aaron and Rosie, helps Gina out, so she’s happy for him to stop there.’
‘I