Apart from his mother and aunt, Vinny was no big fan of women in general. He found girls his age silly and annoying, so why he had bothered ramming himself inside Karen again, who was already asking him questions such as ‘Am I your girlfriend now?’ He did not know.
Vinny got out of bed and quickly got dressed. He had only ever had one proper girlfriend in his life and the slag had broken his heart. Fifteen, Vinny had been when he’d first set eyes on Yvonne Summers. She was two years older than him, but the age gap hadn’t mattered as he was very mature for his age. To say he had treated Yvonne like a princess was putting it mildly. Even back then, he knew how to earn a bob or two and he was forever taking her to the pictures and buying her nice presents. Had she appreciated his adoration and kindness? No. The whore had two-timed him, then run off with a lad five years his senior. Rumour had it, she’d moved to Leeds.
Vinny had been distraught at the time and didn’t know how he would have got over it if it wasn’t for his mother. She had held his sobbing body, wiped away his tears and made him feel worthy once again.
‘So, am I your girlfriend now?’ Karen repeated, desperation in her voice.
The doorbell saved Vinny from insulting her. ‘Get dressed and go out the back way. I’ve got business to deal with,’ he said, coldly.
Wondering if George had come back to try to extract even more money, Vinny took the stairs two by two. He flung open the big metal door only to see his father standing there with a sheepish expression on his face. ‘What do you want?’ Vinny asked, unable to hide the bitterness. He didn’t want to let on to his dad he knew about Judy Preston before tomorrow. He wanted to watch him squirm when he announced his infidelity at the restaurant in front of his mother.
Unable to look his son in the eyes, Albie stared at his shoes. ‘I’ve got a bit of a problem and I really need your help,’ he mumbled.
‘What do you want? Beer or Scotch?’ Vinny asked, leading him into the club.
‘Scotch please, son.’
Vinny poured two large Scotches on the rocks, then sat down at a nearby table. ‘Fire away then.’
With his hands clasped together, Albie twiddled his thumbs. There was no sign of Roy which was a shame as Roy had a lesser temper on him than Vinny. He also had a more understanding nature.
‘Where’s Roy?’ Albie asked.
‘Gone to collect Michael’s moped.’
Albie stared at his hands. There was no easy way of saying what he had to say, but he wanted to find the right words. ‘I’ve got meself in a bit of a pickle, boy. I know I promised you I would never stray again, but I had this bird come on to me. Only young, she is, and being a weak man, I was flattered if you know what I mean?’
‘Oh, I know what you mean all right. And I know who the tart is. You’ve been shafting Judy Preston, haven’t you? So, what’s happened? Has her brother Johnny found out and now wants to chop that diseased little cock of yours off? You make me sick, Dad, do you know that?’
‘I’m sorry. I know what I did is wrong, but your mum don’t want me in her bed no more. It was just too good an opportunity to turn down. I ain’t getting no younger, boy, and I was just flattered I suppose. I do love your mum though. You know that, don’t you, son?’
Unable to stop himself, Vinny sank the rest of his drink, then brought the glass down so hard against the table, it smashed into a thousand fragments. ‘Do not fucking sit there telling me you love my mum when you stick your cock in anything that moves, and do not ever call me your son again. You are nothing to me. I despise you,’ he snarled, standing up.
Albie looked back down at his feet. ‘How long you known for?’
‘A week or so. Was gonna confront you tomorrow in front of Mum at Michael’s birthday bash. I’m still telling her, so don’t think you’re fucking getting away with this one. I warned you before after I found out about that Maureen bird that if you did it again I would grass you up.’
‘You can’t tell her, boy. I’ll never do it again, I swear on the Bible, but please don’t tell your mother.’
‘You can go to hell, Dad. Unlike you, I’m a man of my word and tell her I shall. She’s bound to kick your sorry arse out, so what you gonna do then? Gonna set up home with your young bit of skirt, are ya?’
Absolutely petrified that his whole world was about to fall apart, Albie stood up and banged his fists against the glass table. ‘You can’t tell her, Vinny. I know I don’t deserve it, but you really need to side with me for once on this. I need your help, boy.’
Vinny chuckled. ‘Why? ’Cause Johnny Preston is gonna give you a good fawpenny one? Good! Saves me from fucking doing it.’
‘It ain’t Johnny. He knows about me and Judy and he’s OK about it.’
‘Well, what is it then?’ Vinny asked, his lip curling into another snarl.
‘Judy’s in the club and she’s keeping it. I accidently got her pregnant.’
Vinny leapt up, grabbed his father by the neck in disgust and rammed his body against the wall. ‘You fucking what?’
‘It weren’t my fault. She said she was taking that tablet thingamajig. She lied to me,’ Albie said, panicking.
Unable to stop himself, Vinny did what he had wanted to do for years. He beat his father senseless.
CHAPTER THREE
Bored with doing the washing up and spending their lives confined to the café, young Nancy and Christopher Walker begged their parents to allow them to go out to play.
‘You’re to go no further than a short walk away and you are to be back here by five at the latest,’ their father ordered them.
Missing her friends from Stoke Newington dreadfully, Nancy tagged along reluctantly behind her brother. All day, Christopher had been harping on about the rich men with the posh cars whom he had seen the previous day when he had taken a trip to the sweetshop, but Nancy wasn’t car-mad like her brother. She wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between a Sunbeam Tiger and an Austin Healey.
‘This is it,’ Christopher said, plonking himself down on a doorstep opposite the snooker club.
‘But there ain’t no rich men here, nor is there many cars,’ Nancy complained.
‘Well, there was yesterday. That Jaguar Sedan is the car that I want when I’m grown-up.’ Christopher pointed to the shiny black car that belonged to Vinny Butler.
Nancy took a strawberry bonbon out of the paper bag and popped it into her mouth. ‘What do you want to be when you grow up, Christopher? I think I would like to be a hairdresser and do famous people’s hair like Twiggy.’
Sucking on a Kola Kube, Christopher wanted to laugh, but didn’t. Twiggy would never have let his sister near her hair, but it was good Nancy had dreams, because he was determined to fulfil his. ‘I’m gonna be a policeman and catch people like Jack the Ripper. He killed loads of women round ’ere, you know.’
‘What’s that man doing, Christopher?’ Nancy asked, bemused.
Christopher had no idea who the Italian-looking man was, but when he punched a nearby wall and then glared at him and Nancy, the boy’s intuition told him it wasn’t safe to be there. He grabbed his sister’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s go back to the café.’
Michael Butler entered his mother’s house wearing his trademark green parka and a big grin on his face. ‘Urgh. What’s that smell?’
‘Lavender bags. Dotted