‘Why ever did they jump you? Everyone who knows you is aware you ain’t got a pot to piss in,’ Vivian replied, her voice as cold as ice.
Albie glared at his wife’s sister and, instead of calling her a fucking old trout like he wanted to, managed to bite his tongue.
‘I bought you some pyjamas up, and made you a ham sandwich,’ Queenie said, plonking a carrier bag on the bed next to her husband.
‘I can’t get pyjama bottoms over the plaster and I can’t eat nothing. I’m in too much pain. A small bottle of brandy wouldn’t have gone amiss though,’ Albie muttered miserably.
‘Ungrateful old bastard,’ Vivian mumbled under her breath.
‘I’ve just spoken to the doctor. They reckon you’ll be in here for a while, you know,’ Queenie informed her old man.
‘Thanks very much. Cheer me up, why don’t ya?’
‘So, what exactly happened? Have you spoken to the Old Bill yet?’ Queenie asked.
‘Yeah. Not much I could tell ’em. It all happened so quickly, I didn’t get a clear view of any of the lads. Where’s Vinny and Roy?’
‘Roy and Michael are waiting in the corridor. The nurse said we could only come in two at a time, so I’ll send them in next. You had a fall-out with our Vinny and Roy?’
‘No. What makes you ask that?’ Albie asked defensively.
‘Because I’ve sensed a bad atmosphere the past few days. What’s going on, Albie? I ain’t some silly old fool, you know, and I will find out, so you might as well tell me now. What you done to upset them?’
Albie looked at his wife with pure hatred in his eyes. Here he was, with two broken legs and three broken ribs, confined to a stinking hospital bed for Christ knows how long, and instead of concern, all Queenie was worried about was her precious sons. Was it any wonder he strayed at the drop of a hat?’ I ain’t done anything to upset the boys, OK? Now, please go and get me a bottle of brandy to help me with the pain. Killing me, my ribs are. I would give you the money, but the bastards who attacked me nicked me wallet.’
‘The doctor said you were on strong painkillers. You ain’t meant to drink with them, Albie. You might keel over and die in the night,’ Queenie advised him.
Hoping that her sister’s warning just might come true, Vivian put her hand inside her handbag. ‘Poor sod’s been right through the mill. I’ll treat him to a bottle.’
Knowing full well why Vivian had made such a kind gesture, Queenie had a fake coughing fit, then dashed out of the ward before Albie could realize she was laughing.
Little Christopher Walker was mesmerized by the dark-haired man in the charcoal suit.
‘Stop gawping at people. Go and collect any empty plates and cups,’ Mary hissed in her son’s ear.
Another person who had her beady eyes on Vinny was Freda Smart and when Christopher approached her, she couldn’t help but speak her mind. ‘Should be strung up by the balls, the lot of ’em. Bloody murderers,’ she said in a loud voice.
Vinny smirked. Freda had been extremely friendly with the café’s previous owners and was the only person in the East End who would have the nerve to accuse him of killing Old Jack and Ethel’s son. She was spot-on actually. Fifteen-year-old Peter had had a habit of exposing himself to young girls and had one day made the fatal mistake of touching up a neighbour’s eleven-year-old daughter and forcing her to touch him in an undesirable place. Absolutely fuming, Vinny had decided to rid Whitechapel of such an unsavoury character and a few weeks later Peter was found at the bottom of the Thames.
Vinny turned around in his seat. He loved winding the old battleaxe up. The café wasn’t packed, but Vinny could see the worried expressions on the other diners’ faces. ‘Spouting cock and bull again, are you, Freda? Can’t be long now until they cart you off to that funny farm,’ he said.
‘Sod all wrong with my marbles. I know exactly what yous Butlers are and unlike everyone else round ’ere, I ain’t bleedin’ frightened to tell you either. You can do me in next for all I care,’ Freda yelled, stomping out of the café.
Vinny chuckled and raised his eyebrows to fellow customers. It didn’t bother him that Freda accused him of being a murderer in public. In fact, she was doing him a favour as it just made people fear him more.
With no-one waiting to be served, Mary darted out into the kitchen to fill Donald in on what had just happened.
Aware that the young boy’s eyes were on him once again, Vinny smiled at Christopher. He had already recognized him as the one who had been sitting opposite the snooker club earlier. ‘Can you show me how to use your jukebox?’
Christopher ran over to the Wurlitzer. Vinny put on Roger Miller’s ‘King of the Road’, which happened to remind him of himself, then handed the child half a crown.
Absolutely ecstatic at the unexpected gift, Christopher ran out to the kitchen to show his parents.
‘Who gave you that?’ Donald asked, his face reddening with anger, knowing only too well who it was likely to be.
‘The man in the suit gave it to me because I taught him how to use the jukebox,’ Christopher explained.
‘Can I have some money too, Daddy?’ Nancy asked, tugging her father’s sleeve.
Donald was fuming. He wanted no involvement with this Butler family and he had always forbidden his children to accept money or gifts from strangers. ‘What have I told you about taking money off people, eh?’ he said, dragging Christopher out of the kitchen by his arm.
‘Stop it, Daddy. You’re hurting me,’ Christopher said, bursting into tears.
‘Donald, stop overreacting for goodness’ sake,’ Mary urged him. She didn’t want to upset or make a scene in front of their customers.
Vinny had just dotted his cigarette out and was about to leave when Donald marched up to him with Christopher in tow. ‘Is this the man?’ he asked his son.
The little boy was sobbing. He not only felt embarrassed, he wanted to keep his half a crown. Nodding his head, Christopher stared at his feet in shame.
‘Excuse me, sir. It was very kind of you to give my son this money, but I’m afraid I have brought my children up not to accept gifts off people they do not know, so I insist you take it back.’
Vinny stared Donald in the eyes and immediately disliked him. He could tell he was one of life’s do-gooders. ‘It wasn’t a gift. Your son earned it by showing me how to use the jukebox,’ Vinny replied casually.
‘Well, Christopher won’t be accepting it all the same,’ Donald said, putting the coin on the table and dragging his son away.
About to tell Donald that he should get off his fucking moral high horse, Vinny saw Christopher’s distraught little face glance around and decided not to bother. The old man was obviously a twat, so what was the point of upsetting the kid even more? Slipping the half a crown into his pocket, Vinny nodded politely at Mary, and quietly left the café.
CHAPTER FOUR
Determined that their father being hospitalized wouldn’t spoil their younger brother’s sixteenth birthday, Vinny and Roy got up with the larks the following morning and walked around to their mother’s house, pushing the moped between them.
Both Vinny and Roy had stayed at the club again last night and Roy had just suggested to his brother that they have the upstairs decorated properly so that they could live there permanently.
‘I dunno. We’ve got to pay that conning bastard Geary fifteen hundred quid next week, which will leave the coffers a bit lean, Roy. Not only that, I like to keep a daily eye on Mum and Auntie Viv and make sure Champ is