‘It’s only local. Stop worrying. They’ll be fine.’
Georgie O’Hara was in fact more than fine. Regan Butler had a cocky confidence about him, a quality she had only ever seen amongst travelling lads, and she could not take her eyes off him. He looked much older than twelve, was as tall as Calum, and he reminded Georgie of a young Elvis Presley. Nanny Alice had always had the hots for Elvis, said she would have married him instead of Granddad Jimmy, given the chance.
Sporting a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses, Regan Butler glanced out the corner of his eye. He was aware of Georgie O’Hara’s interest in him, and the effect he had on girls. He’d sampled his first French kiss at the age of eight, and before he’d got banged up, had shoved his hand inside fourteen-year-old Sally Parker’s knickers. ‘What you looking at?’ he asked.
Harry O’Hara burst out laughing. Regan was aloof and stroppy like himself and he preferred him to Calum already. He was also annoyed with his sister for her continuous flirting. She had a boyfriend, and he liked Ryan Maloney a lot. Georgie shouldn’t be dressing like a slag, or acting like one. It was all wrong.
Calum Butler scowled at Regan. ‘Don’t talk to Georgie like that. She’s a decent girl, bruv.’
‘I never said she wasn’t. I only asked her what she was looking at.’
Red-faced, Georgie marched her stupid brother out of earshot. ‘Do you want to go back to Scotland and live with our real family again?’
‘Yeah, you know I do.’
‘Well shut the fuck up then. I know what I’m doing, Harry, you dinlo.’
Little Vinny poked his head around the lounge door. The kids had returned from the park as good as gold earlier, and were now playing games on the massive TV that was bracketed on the wall.
‘I’ve never heard Georgie or Harry laugh like that before. What they up to?’ Frankie asked.
‘It’s some dance game where you have to copy the moves. Regan won’t play it, sees himself as too cool. They’ve asked to get the karaoke machine out now, so prepare to be deafened. Regan can sing really well. Calum ain’t got a bad voice either. I sound like a cat being tortured, me, so they obviously have Sammi to thank for their musical talent.’
‘I have no idea if Georgie or Harry can sing – I know so little about them still. I do remember Georgie loving country music as a little girl. She knew all the words to the songs. Her bastard of a father taught her them. Was Sammi your actual first love, Vin? Or did you date beforehand?’
‘Sammi was my first serious girlfriend. I just knew as soon as I met her that she was the one, but we had our ups and downs like any young couple. I worked in my dad’s club in Whitechapel at the time, and I remember getting cold feet at one point ’cause she kept turning up there. How times change, eh? I’d give my right arm for her to walk in this kitchen right now. And Oliver.’
‘I wonder if they’re looking down on us? I’m sure Sammi and Stuart would want us to be friends, don’t you think?’
‘For sure. You’re the only person I’ve been able to open up to since, and Sammi would be so pleased that the boys have brightened up today. They were sad and quiet leading up to the funeral. That’s why I belled you yesterday morning. Was trying to think of ways to cheer them up.’
‘My dad reminded me your little sister got murdered years ago too. Same happened to my granddad you know. It was Jed that killed him. Broke in my dad’s—’
‘Enough of deaths, eh, Frankie?’ Little Vinny abruptly barked. No way did he want to discuss Molly. He then forced a smile. ‘Let’s join in with the kids’ karaoke, shall we?’
Back in Lakeside, a few sheets to the wind, Queenie was opening up about Daniel and Roxanne’s incestuous relationship. She’d dragged Joycie to the pub the other side of Brompton Walk by the lake.
‘So Roxanne never had a clue that Daniel was her brother?’ Joyce Smith asked again. Queenie was unsettled after bumping into a friend of Roxanne’s outside Debenhams. Alex had been a bridesmaid at the ill-fated wedding and Queenie had believed her when she’d sworn blind she had not heard a word from Roxanne since.
‘No. I’ve told you that three bloody times! Neither Roxanne nor Daniel knew one another even existed. But you must never tell anyone, Joycie. When it all kicked off at the wedding, my family told everybody there was a mix-up. I mean, incest isn’t something you can live down, is it? The police even visited us you know, to ask what had happened. Them nosy bastards would’ve had a ball if they’d had proof, so would the bloody press. Saw a programme on TV recently about another brother and sister who fell in love. It’s called “Genetic Sexual Attraction”.’
‘I’ve never heard of it, Queen, but I know sod-all about sexual attraction of any kind. Only ever slept with Stanley and he weren’t exactly Marlon Brando back in the day. We’ve slept in separate beds ever since the kids were born. I can’t be waking up looking at that bald head and ugly face every morning. Turns my stomach, it does.’
The comment lightened Queenie’s mood. ‘Exactly the same as me and Albie. The only time I used to let him anywhere near me was when I wanted another child. Coming home pissed at all hours and snoring – made him kip on the sofa, I did.’
‘What did Albie look like when you first met him? Bet he had more going for him than my Stanley.’
Queenie shrugged. ‘Albie was a looker back in the day, I suppose. That’s why I chose him, to be truthful. My old neighbour Doreen was a few years older than me. I used to look up to her as a kid, until she married Freddie Watts. Looked like he’d fallen out the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, he did. I’ll never forget seeing her son for the first time. Ugliest baby I ever did see. Looked like an alien. It scared me.’
When Joycie started guffawing and banging her empty glass against the table, Queenie couldn’t help but laugh too. She’d been racking her brain ever since she’d met Joyce as to whom she reminded her of, and it had just this minute occurred to her. Joyce was a ringer for that famous cook her and Vivian used to laugh at on TV back in the day: Fanny Cradock.
Frankie Mitchell clapped as Calum Butler finished his rendition of Eminem’s ‘My Name Is’. She would never have believed her children could mix so well with others, but Georgie and Harry had taken a real shine to Calum and Regan. It was a joy and relief to witness their happiness and laughter for once. They always seemed so miserable at home and had never enjoyed anything she and Stuart had organized for them.
Little Vinny was sitting on the opposite sofa, and when he playfully grabbed Regan in a headlock and threatened to sing again unless his son did, Frankie found herself joining in with her children’s laughter. Sammi-Lou had described her husband as ‘a brilliant father’ who had ‘a unique way with kids’ and she’d been spot on. Little Vinny was a natural.
Eddie Mitchell wasn’t having the best of days. His daughter Rosie had sicked up all over the back of his new Range Rover earlier. Then, minutes later, some dopey tart had pulled out of a side turning and pranged into him. Now, to crown it all, he’d been summoned to Lakeside to pick up an inebriated Joycie and Queenie, who had somehow managed to get themselves into a state only two teenage girls could dream of.
‘Where’s my Vinny?’ Queenie asked again. She’d tried both her sons’ numbers for at least an hour before Joyce suggested they ring Eddie to pick them up. Even Little Vinny wasn’t answering his bloody phone.
‘Queen, grab hold of the other side of Joycie, will ya? This is embarrassing, love,’ Eddie spat as he saw yet another crowd of kids looking their way and laughing their heads off. He’d virtually had to drag the woman he would always refer to as his mother-in-law through the shopping centre like a rag doll, and he prayed no bastard recognized him. Everyone was looking and laughing, such was the state Joyce had got herself in. And Queenie was unsteady too.
‘Put