Little Vinny carried on chatting to his deceased wife until a nurse opened the door and informed him the Allens wanted to see Sammi-Lou. He stood up and kissed Sammi tenderly on the forehead. ‘Goodbye, princess. Wait for me in heaven.’
Little Vinny’s final memory of visiting his dead wife would be of Meg Allen as she was taken inside the room. ‘My baby. My beautiful little girl. Sammi-Lou. Sammi-Lou. You can’t leave me. Wake up,’ Meg screamed.
Shuddering, Little Vinny ran towards the hospital exit.
‘You’ve got thirty seconds to open this door, Frankie, before I break it down,’ Eddie Mitchell threatened.
‘Go downstairs a minute, Brett. Mum’ll be down in a tick,’ Gary said, ruffling his nephew’s hair. Unlike the other two horrors, Brett was a lovely little boy. So much so, it was hard to believe Jed O’Hara’s sperm was involved in his creation.
‘You don’t reckon she’s done something stupid, do you?’ Gary whispered, as soon as Brett was out of earshot.
‘Only one way to find out,’ Eddie said, taking a step back then aiming his right foot at the door.
The door finally splintered at the third attempt and Joey was first to burst into the room. ‘She’s not here.’
Eddie peered out of the open window. Frankie had obviously made her escape via the garage roof, but there was no sign of her. ‘What the fuck am I paying these so-called security men for, eh? Gary, you stay here and look after Brett. Joey, me and you will find your sister.’
Ten minutes later, Joey Mitchell found his sister in the summer house. She was sitting on the floor, her knees huddled to her chest, shivering. ‘Dad, Dad! I’ve found her,’ Joey yelled, before taking his jacket off and putting it around Frankie’s shoulders.
‘What you doing out here? You had us worried sick. You could’ve broken your neck jumping off that garage roof,’ Eddie Mitchell told her.
‘I wish I had. I don’t want to live any more. I’ve had enough. First Mum, now Stuart. He didn’t even want to go to that fucking funeral you know. Said he didn’t know the dead woman. Why did you have to drag him there? Were you not content with just killing my mum? Did you want me to lose my fiancé as well?’
Tears pricking his eyes, Eddie crouched to his haunches. The day he’d accidentally killed Jessica had been the worst of his life, but today was right up there with those dark days when his father and his son Ricky had been brutally murdered, that was for sure. ‘I loved him too, Frankie. Stu was like a son to me, you know he was.’
‘But he was more than that to me, wasn’t he? Stuart was my future, my everything. And now he’s gone, thanks to you. You’re gonna have to take care of Georgie and Harry for me now. I can’t manage. Harry’s evil, just like Jed was. You should’ve heard what he said about Stuart earlier. He was laughing, I heard him. That’s why I had to get out the house. I couldn’t take any more. I just want to curl up and die. That’s why I brought these in here with me,’ Frankie screamed, waving a packet of tablets in the air.
Joey snatched hold of the packet in panic. ‘How many have you taken, Frankie?’
‘None! I forgot to bring a drink. But if I had, I would have swallowed every single fucking one of ’em. Other than Brett, I have nothing to live for now. Nothing whatsoever.’
Queenie Butler switched the bedroom light on. ‘You hungry, Calum? You need to eat something. I’ve got burgers, sausages, bacon. Can cook you whatever you fancy.’
‘Not hungry. I just wanna sleep,’ came the muffled reply. Calum had been under the quilt for hours and had no intention of getting up. All he could think about was his mum and Oliver. Not being able to see, talk, laugh or even argue with them again seemed so unreal. Their deaths hadn’t sunk in, and Calum doubted they ever would. He’d stared at his nan in a state of disbelief when she’d informed him: ‘Your mum’s gone to heaven to look after your brother, boy. Your dad, me, and the rest of the family will take care of you and Regan from now on. A promise that is, an’ all. You’ll want for nothing; I’ll make sure of that.’
‘Na-night then, love. If you wake up later and need anything, just give me a shout. Even if you just wanna chat, OK?’
Calum didn’t bother answering. How could his great-gran even say ‘You’ll want for nothing’ when his mum and brother had been shot to smithereens right in front of him?
‘How is he? Silly question, I know,’ Vinny asked solemnly, his arm draped around Ava’s shoulders. His daughter was usually as strong as an ox, but today had knocked the stuffing out of her. It had all of them. Everybody seemed to be running on autopilot, but Ava in particular was acting weird. She was clingy, childlike almost, and it reminded Vinny of days gone by when she’d been a little girl. Not the stroppy teenager she was most days now.
‘Still under the quilt. I dunno what else to say to him. I’m not the greatest with words at times such as these. Suffered too many tragedies in the past, that’s bloody why. Will you talk to him, Vin?’
‘I dunno what to say to him either. Molly, Auntie Viv, Roy, Champ, Adam … You just run out of words in the end, don’t ya?’ He purposely left his sister Brenda out of his list of deaths because he hadn’t really liked her that much. When Queenie offered no reply but continued to look at him expectantly, he turned to his daughter. ‘Go chat to Calum for us please, Ava? You’re much better at saying the right things than me and your nan are.’
Imagining how dreadful Calum must be feeling, Ava reluctantly made her way upstairs.
‘I feel so ill, Vin. Must’ve aged ten years recently. And there was me thinking moving home would change my luck. Cursed, this family is, I’m telling ya. Him up above hates us. I wouldn’t mind if we were bad people, but we have hearts of gold. Do anybody a good turn if we can. Why us?’
‘None of it makes any sense, Mum. Why wait all these years then decide to turn up waving guns on today of all days? I will start making enquiries tomorrow and when I find out who’s responsible, I’ll personally hack their limbs off while they’re still alive.’
Queenie’s eyes welled up. ‘But say they find you first? If anything happens to you, it’ll be the end of me. I couldn’t live without you, Vin. I love you too much.’
Vinny held his mother in his arms trying to soothe her fears. In truth, he was a very worried man. If the Turks were capable of the chaos they’d caused at the wake, then he’d better watch his back very carefully indeed.
‘No way is Ava going to work at your club with those loonies on the loose. I won’t allow it,’ Queenie insisted.
‘I know. I’ll talk to Ava tomorrow. I don’t want you going out alone either. Not until I’ve sorted this mess.’
For all the conviction in his voice, Vinny had no idea how he was going to sort this particular mess. Turks were like travellers: a closed community who stuck together like glue, so finding out who’d pulled such a stroke was not going to be easy. But money talked and, like all communities, the Turks were bound to have one or two backstabbing traitors living amongst them.
‘Now go give Little Vinny a ring,’ urged Queenie. ‘What that lad must be going through doesn’t bear thinking about. My first great-grandchild dead, and poor Sammi-Lou. I feel numb, truly can’t get my head around it. The look on Big Stan’s face as they shot him will haunt me for the rest of my days. We said we was gonna give Vivvy a send-off that the East End would remember and talk about for years to come, but we didn’t mean like this.’
Eddie Mitchell felt his heartbeat accelerate as he clocked the parcel sitting on the step. Even without even opening it, he knew what would be inside. Same packaging, same printed