‘I know my own brother, Bella, and he ain’t gonna want you if he knows you slept with me. It will break his heart, trust me. Is that what you want? Michael ain’t no mug. Chances are he’ll kill the pair of us.’
‘Admitting the truth is better than spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder waiting for you to make snide remarks or blackmail me.’
‘Blackmail you! What do you take me for?’
‘Well, you’re hardly a gentleman are you, Vinny? When I fled that party and Michael went to get the car, you tried to kiss and fucking grope me. I wonder how your brother will react when I tell him that?’
Vinny had an overwhelming urge to remind the sanctimonious bitch that he’d done far more than grope her on the night they’d spent shagging one another’s brains out, but somehow he managed to control his temper. Michael would never forgive him if he learned the truth. Their close brotherly bond would be ripped to shreds, for ever. ‘Listen, I was out of order that night and I apologize. It was a shock seeing you and I was pissed.’
‘Apology accepted, but it doesn’t change anything, Vinny. Michael’s family is everything to him, you know that. I can’t avoid visiting your mother or family parties. Michael would know something was wrong if I didn’t ever go with him, which is why I have to tell him the truth.’
‘Seriously, Bella, you’ll cause World War Three if you open your trap. My mum’ll despise you, so will my aunt. And my brother will never forgive us. Why can’t you just keep schtum?’
‘Because you and I will have to socialize from time to time and you won’t let go of what happened. It was meaningless sex, that’s all.’
‘Whaddya mean, I won’t let go? Jesus, you must rate yourself, girl. I’ve had hundreds better than you in the sack, believe me,’ Vinny lied. ‘Look, let’s be adult about this. You love Michael and he loves you. I want my brother to be happy in life. Let’s not mention me and you ever again, and try to be civil to one another on the odd occasion our paths cross, for Michael’s sake. The past is the past, we can’t change that, but you can have a blinding future with my bro if you don’t start blabbing your mouth off.’
‘OK. But I’m warning you, Vinny, if you go back on your word, I swear I will tell Michael every single vulgar detail. Including that I only fucked you in the first place because you reminded me of him.’
Queenie Butler was feeling guilty. Vinny had given her a stern talking to yesterday. ‘I feel sorry for Auntie Viv. You’ve got all us, but she must be stuck in her house on her Jack Jones. You’re all she’s got and I really feel you should be the bigger person. Give her a knock, an’ tell her you wanna sort things out. That’s the advice you gave me and Michael when we were at loggerheads,’ her son had reminded her.
Determined to bite the bullet, Queenie picked her handbag up and marched next door but one. Deciding not to use her own key, Queenie rang the bell.
There was no answer.
Having not spoken to a soul for days, Vivian Harris was thoroughly enjoying a bit of company. She and Albie were in the Grave Maurice, reminiscing about years gone by.
‘You are a funny one, Vivvy. Is that true?’ Albie chuckled.
‘Cross my heart, and hope to die. Pissed as farts, me father and the registrar were. Me mother couldn’t spell. That’s why my name’s spelt like a man’s. It was meant to have an i-e-n-n and e on the end. I thought you knew that story. Queenie must’ve told you, surely?’
‘She probably did. But knowing me, I was bladdered at the time and don’t bleedin’ remember. You and Queen’ll be as thick as thieves again soon, you know. Both as pig-headed as each other, ain’t ya?’
‘What will be will be. No way am I apologizing though, not this time. I’ve been a bloody good sister to her, Albie. Vinny kills my Lenny and she’s got the cheek to throw a wobbler over a clash of words. I’ve even been polite to that murdering bastard of a son of hers since Christmas, purely to keep her happy.’
Aware of the twisted expression on Vivian’s face and the unshed tears in her eyes, Albie leaned across the table, took her hands in his and did his best to comfort her.
In the far corner of the pub, Nosy Hilda very nearly dropped her Guinness in shock. She’d been glued to her chair watching Albie and Viv laughing and joking for the past half-hour. Now they were acting like lovesick teenagers.
Deciding to sneak out of the pub before either spotted her, Hilda grabbed her coat. She couldn’t wait to tell Mouthy Maureen this bit of gossip. Albie Butler and Vivian Harris – whoever would have thought it?
Unsettled by his meeting with Bella, instead of going back to the club, Vinny Butler went on a pub crawl. To say he was seething was an understatement. Bella had come out on top today and he knew it. But he’d had no choice other than to agree with her in case she decided to carry out her threat and spill her guts to Michael. No way could his brother find out the truth. It would almost certainly tip him over the edge.
Strolling into the brothel, Vinny was met with a look of distaste by the old madam on the desk.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked curtly.
‘Yeah. I want the tall dark-haired bird. Monica, I think her name is.’
Aware that the last time this man had visited these premises he’d been very heavy-handed towards Monica, the madam replied, ‘Monica is currently otherwise engaged. Would you like to pick another girl?’
‘Nah. How about you ask Monica if she can unengage herself for five hundred quid, eh? There’s a oner on top of that for you, of course.’
Scuttling away from the reception desk, the old madam returned and held her hand out for payment. ‘Monica is just freshening up. I’ll take all the money up front, thank you.’
Fifteen minutes later, Vinny Butler had his rock-hard penis shoved as far up Monica’s back passage as it would go. She was obviously in pain from the savage way he was banging her and Vinny liked that very much.
Losing himself in the moment, Vinny stroked Monica’s long dark hair. The ugly slut looked nothing like Bella from the front, but from the back she did. ‘You think you got one over on me, did you, eh? Well think again,’ he hissed as he pounded away like a madman. ‘Nobody messes with me, nobody,’ he panted.
When he finally shot his load, Vinny yanked Monica’s hair back with such force he was lucky he didn’t break her neck. ‘Oh, Bella,’ he sighed in ecstasy.
‘Gandar!’ cried Oliver Butler joyfully.
Gary Allen picked his fifteen-month-old grandson up and lifted him in the air. He’d been so disappointed when his teenage daughter had first told him she was pregnant, but he couldn’t imagine life without Oliver now.
‘Whaddya think of his outfit?’ Little Vinny asked.
Gary chuckled. Oliver, or Ollie as he was usually referred to, was dressed in brown corduroy trousers, leather boots, a chunky beige cardigan and a check cap. ‘Looks like a little old man. Suits him though.’
Little Vinny beamed with pride. He and Sammi-Lou both loved shopping and dressing their son up to look the business. ‘Once upon a time it was me and Sammi with wardrobes full of designer clothes, Gal. How times change, eh?’ he joked.
Times had most certainly changed. The Beatles and the Rolling Stones had been all the rage when Gary was a teenager, but now groups like Duran Duran and Wham! topped