‘I’ll second that. Gonna be the best wake ever. One that people will still talk about in years to come,’ Vinny insisted.
Little did Vinny know at that point that the wake would turn out to be the worst in living history. It would be spoken about for many years to come, mind. But for all the wrong reasons.
Vivian’s wake was held at a restaurant in Stratford that Vinny part-owned. His pal Nick ran the gaff and had rearranged the furniture to accommodate the many mourners.
‘Ted’s not singing until later. I thought it best that people have a chat and something to eat first. I’ve given him a list of songs that Auntie Viv liked,’ Vinny informed his mother.
‘I love that photo of Vivvy. Who got it blown up? She looks so beautiful and radiant, doesn’t she?’ The huge framed photo on the wall had been taken in Queenie’s back garden a couple of years ago.
‘Michael sorted it. He said you’re to take it home with you later. Her smile lights up this joint, eh? I’d put money on it she’s here with us in spirit. I can sort of feel her presence, can’t you?’ Vinny said kindly. He knew it was what his mum wanted to hear.
Queenie nodded, then received a hug from the handsome Eddie Mitchell. Vivvy would be thrilled he’d attended her funeral. She’d always had the hots for Eddie.
‘A lovely send-off for a lovely lady, Queenie,’ Eddie gushed.
‘Thanks, Eddie. How’s Joycie?’
‘You’ve got yourself a fan there. Not stopped raving about you since her party. She tells me you’re going shopping together soon.’
‘Yes. We’re going to Lakeside. I’ll give her a bell tomorrow. I couldn’t concentrate on shopping beforehand, not with the funeral looming over me. Will cheer me up no end to see Joycie again.’
‘Great stuff. Joycie’s a one-off, like yourself, Queenie. What you see is what you get with her. Be good for you both to pal up and get out and about a bit. Stanley drives her doolally indoors.’
Spotting a white feather stuck to her shoe, Queenie grabbed Vinny’s arm. ‘Look! Another sign.’ Viv had always believed in the myth surrounding white feathers.
What neither Queenie nor Vinny realized was there was one almighty sign heading their way, and it was by no means pleasant.
Mehmet Malas studied the photograph of Vinny Butler. It had been taken many years ago, but Vinny was very distinctive looking and shouldn’t be too hard to pick out of a crowd. ‘How long till we arrive?’ he asked his brother.
‘About thirty minutes. No hanging around. Straight in, do the business, then we leave immediately.’
The Turks continued their journey in silence. All three had been good pals with Ahmed and Burak Zane and it was obvious what had happened to them. Vinny Butler had had it coming to him for a long while, and now he was finally going to get it. If you live by the sword, expect to die by it.
‘Slow down a bit, Vin. You haven’t half been knocking them back,’ Sammi-Lou advised her husband. Little Vinny didn’t usually touch alcohol and wasn’t the best drinker in the world on the odd occasion he did.
‘Don’t nag me, babe. I need a drink today. Spent a lot of time with Auntie Viv when I was young. I miss her,’ he replied. The real reason he was knocking them back was to recover from the trauma he’d suffered at the church, but he could hardly admit that to Sammi-Lou.
‘I think I’ll make a move with the boys if you’re going to get plastered. You can get a cab home later.’
‘Stay ’ere and chill. The music’s starting now.’
Teddy Chapman was a legend on the East End pub and club circuit. He’d once worked at Vinny and Michael’s old haunt in Whitechapel, and kicked his set off with Sinatra’s ‘Fly Me to the Moon’.
‘Vivvy loved this song, boy. She would’ve much preferred this played inside the church than Vera bloody Lynn. She didn’t even like Vera,’ Albie informed his son, before knocking back another straight brandy. He’d been drinking like a fish again since Viv had died.
Michael put an arm around his father’s slumped shoulders. ‘I’ve told Ted you’ll be singing “Spanish Eyes” later. It’s what Auntie Viv would’ve wanted, so bollocks to Mum and Vinny. They start kicking off, they’ll have me to deal with.’
Tears in his eyes, Albie managed a weak smile. ‘Thanks, boy. Means the world to me, and I know it would’ve meant the same to Viv.’
Psyching himself up, Mehmet Malas ran his fingers gently along the barrel of the machine gun. He’d been sentenced to a hefty stretch inside for supplying a large quantity of heroin around the time Ahmed and Burak had disappeared, hence his delay in getting revenge for his dear friends. ‘Brothers’, he liked to refer to his compatriots as. Ahmed and Burak were the real deal, had always been there for him and his family.
Deniz was driving and had been instructed to wait outside the restaurant with the van’s engine running. ‘We’ll be there in fifteen minutes,’ he informed Mehmet and Hassan.
The two men glanced at one another, then smiled. ‘Allahu Akbar,’ Mehmet mumbled. He was a big believer, and knew Allah would be on their side.
‘I’ve got something to tell you, Nan. Dad said I wasn’t to say anything until after the funeral, but I’ve finally got myself a job. I’m manageress of Dad’s Holborn club, and will take care of the business for him when he opens the casino,’ Ava informed her grandmother.
Queenie Butler looked at her granddaughter in astonishment. Ava was twenty now and Queenie had virtually brought the child up after her mother died. She was a stunner, with long black hair, and piercing green eyes like her father. Unfortunately, she also took after her father in being a law unto herself and full of surprises. ‘You can’t work there. It’s a knocking shop! No way is that a place for a young lady like yourself to work. It’s absurd! Disgusted with your father, I am!’
Ava hadn’t been herself lately. She’d been very close to her cousin Daniel and had formed a bond with Roxanne, so it had knocked her for six to find out they were related. She’d also been upset that neither had contacted her since their doomed wedding. On top of that, Auntie Viv’s death had been terribly upsetting. But now the funeral was over, Ava was determined to move on with her life and enjoy every second. ‘We’re not in the sixties now, Nan. It’s the twentieth century, and I assure you I can handle a few strippers. It’s the family business, remember? Puts food on all of our tables, yours especially.’
When his father started to sing, Vinny stormed out the back rather than take his anger out on his brother. Eddie Mitchell followed his new business partner. ‘What’s up, pal?’
‘Just this fucking song. It’s the old man’s party piece. He was singing this to Viv when she croaked it, so the nurses reckon. Bound to upset my mum. I don’t wanna kick off, though, as it’s obvious Michael’s given Ted the nod for the old bastard to ruin Al Martino’s street cred.’
Eddie chuckled. ‘Families, eh? Can’t live with ’em or without ’em. So, how’s it going with Fliss? Gina thought she was top drawer,’ Eddie said. Vinny had apologized profusely after they’d had words in the restaurant. He’d said he was drunk and sent Gina a beautiful bouquet. Eddie wasn’t one to hold grudges over something so trivial, so their flare-up was now forgotten. Unless Vinny stepped out of line in the future, of course.
Vinny smiled. Though no one would have suspected, he’d been celibate for years until Felicity had come on the scene. The reason being, he was a brutal bastard in the sack and had a habit of terrorizing