Queenie, page 25
‘But you like young women, yeah?’
‘I suppose so. But I ain’t never really had a proper girlfriend. I’ve always been too busy grafting for that.’
‘Well have a think about it. The party isn’t for another fortnight and you could come away with over a hundred quid in your pocket, if you play your cards right.’
‘More than a hundred quid!’ Vinny quickly calculated what he could do for his mum with that type of money.
‘I swear to you I ain’t lying. No pressure. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But Aunt Marnie thinks you’ll be great and I’ll be there with you, watching your back. We have to wear suits for that bash, so let me know say in a week’s time and I’ll get you a suit made. My aunt’ll pay for that. Oh, and while I think of it.’ Macca put his hand in his pocket and handed Vinny twenty pounds.
‘What’s that for?’
‘That’s what you earned on your trial week. You need to spend it on clobber though. Wearing the same outfit in the club every night isn’t a good look. You don’t want these men to think you are poor. Go shopping and spruce yourself up a bit.’
Vinny didn’t know if he was coming or going all of a sudden. He was in a seedy world that he knew nothing about. He took a gulp of his beer. All of a sudden it tasted better. ‘Do you do things at your aunt’s parties, Macca?’
‘Whaddya mean?’
‘With the women? Do you have sex with ’em?’
Macca smiled. He could tell Vinny was inexperienced. ‘Some of these sad old bitches pay twenty-five quid to give you a wank. You just lie there and get paid for it. Easy money, Vin. My dad was a bank robber. Twenty years he got for his last job. That’s how I ended up being raised by Auntie Marnie. There’s no risk of prison with what we do. We’re just providing a service for desperados. It’s the easiest and safest way to get rich, ever.’
Vinny grinned. Macca was right. The Kelly brothers had once been banged up for their part in an armed robbery and he didn’t fancy prison life. ‘OK. Tell your aunt I’ll come to her party.’
Vinny arrived home with a spring in his step. He could not believe he had forty quid in his pocket. It was beyond his wildest dreams. ‘All right? What’s up?’ he asked. His mum was having an argument with Michael.
‘You need to have a word with your brother, Vinny. He’s nothing like you and Roy. He’s lazy, has your father’s genes.’
‘No, I’m not lazy. I’m only nine!’
Vinny sat on the edge of the threadbare sofa. If he did that job, the ladies’ party, he would easily have enough dosh to buy his family a new sofa, he thought. ‘What’s this all about?’
‘Brian has told Roy that Michael can have your old job bringing the barrows in and out. Only problem is, Michael can’t be bothered to do it. He says he’s too young and should be out playing with his mates. The cheek of him, Vinny.’
Vinny sat next to Michael and put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Why don’t you want the job, boy?’
‘’Cause me and Kev have started earning money. We’re building go-karts and selling ’em to lads at school. I like building stuff, Vinny. I’m only small. Them barrows are big and hard to push. I don’t wanna work on the markets.’
Vinny pulled out his wallet and handed his mum fifteen pounds.
Queenie was stunned. ‘Fifteen! I thought you were joking when you said you were giving me a tenner?’
‘Nah. I never joke about money, Mum. Michael doesn’t need to work on the barrows just yet. Perhaps in a couple of years’ time, but not now. Me and Roy were older and taller than him when we started that job and believe me, it is hard graft. Let Michael do what he wants for the time being. I’ll be able to support us on my wages.’
‘I can’t take all your wages, boy. Take some back,’ Queenie insisted.
‘I’ve kept what I need for myself, Mum. That’s what I can spare for you. Take it, please.’
Queenie was stunned and worried all at the same time. ‘But how did you earn this type of money in a hotel, Vinny?’
Vinny grinned. ‘Arabs. Rich Arabs. If you’re polite to ’em, they don’t arf bloody tip well, Mum.’
When Vinny left the room, Queenie stared at the money in shock. If true, it was wonderful if Vinny had landed a legitimate job that was paying him that much money. But she had her doubts. She knew her eldest better than anybody and he’d been acting very secretive and weird of late.
‘Can I go out now, Mum?’ Michael asked.
‘Yes,’ Queenie snapped. Her instincts were never far wrong. Something about that posh hotel job didn’t ring true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The queue was long in the greengrocer’s, so Queenie took her place at the back. Fifteen minutes, she’d been standing there, when she heard Sid shout out, ‘Violet, come to the front, sweetheart.’
Violet Kray’s sons’ Ronnie and Reggie had made a real name for themselves in the East End of late. They’d become even more notorious than the Kelly brothers.
A woman behind Queenie nudged her. ‘Not bloody fair, is it? Her boys ain’t nice, ya know. Charlie’s OK, but those twins aren’t the full shilling.’
Queenie ignored the woman. Mad Freda was her nickname; she was a well-known local gossip.
Craning her neck, Queenie stared in awe as Violet was treated like royalty, and given her groceries for free. She remembered the days Mary O’Leary would be ushered forwards. Oh how she missed her old friend and her sons. ‘Give my regards to your boys, Violet,’ Sid said loudly.
Other people in the queue wanted to speak to Violet and shake her hand as she tried to leave the shop. Violet looked a bit embarrassed, which Queenie found odd. She would love it if she were in Violet’s shoes.
All of a sudden, Queenie’s spirits were lifted. ‘Queenie!’ Sid shouted. ‘I didn’t see you there. You come to the front of the queue too. I won’t mention no names, but your boy is a legend, clumping that teacher. That tyrant made my sons’ lives hell.’
Aware that most of the queue were staring at her, Queenie marched to the front. ‘Thank you, Sid. My eldest is a good boy. Takes no crap off anybody.’
Sid filled Queenie’s bag up and then refused to take any money. ‘This is on me. Give my love to Vivvy an’ all, sweetheart.’
Queenie felt as proud as a peacock as she turned around to face the queue. The expressions on the majority of the old dragons’ faces were priceless. She thanked Sid and thought of Mary. Queenie hoped she was looking down on this. She would have bloody loved it.
Vinny grinned as Macca held up a sequined blazer. His new best pal had offered to take him out shopping and so far they were having a right laugh. ‘No way am I wearing that, mate. Not even in my coffin.’
Macca chuckled and put an arm around Vinny’s shoulders. ‘I’m only messing with you. Let’s go for a nice meal. My treat. Then I’ll take you to the shop afterwards where I buy all my clobber. You’ll love it. Trust me.’
Vinny grinned at his mate. Macca was so cool. He truly was a dude.
Turning into her road, Queenie bumped into Freddie Angel in uniform. ‘All right, Freddie,’ she said calmly. ‘I’m glad I’ve bumped into you again. You know when we were in Jack’s cafe last Friday and I told you Jack’s son seemed a bit strange. Well, I was right. He assaulted a young girl down our road on Monday. Put his hand up her skirt and touched her noonie.’
‘Between me and you, Queen, that’s not the first time the boy has done that. We’ve had a few complaints down at the station. But you must keep that information to yourself. I know I can trust you.’
Queenie smiled. ‘Of course. So how’s things with you? You sorted things with Shirley?’
‘Yes, I have actually. Any chance we can chat at yours, Queenie? I’ve been walking up and down here for the past two hours hoping to bump into you. I knew you were out, ’cause I knocked at yours.’
‘Erm, yes. The boys are at school and Vinny’s at work. Brenda’s with Viv and Lenny. But it’ll have to be a quick chat as Albie could come home at any time.’
Freddie smiled. ‘A quick chat is all I need, Queen. I won’t chew your ear off again, I promise.
Back at Macca’s flat, Vinny felt more chilled than he had in weeks. Their shopping trip had been fun and he’d come home with some real good clobber. Macca had even treated him to a classy shirt.
It had felt weird sitting in a posh restaurant in the West End, eating steak and drinking wine. The wine had tasted far worse than the beers Macca had given him, but Vinny had sipped his slowly and it had made him feel good about life. Macca was right. Who wanted to end up in prison? It was far easier talking shit to perverts, male or female.
Knowing he had Vinny in the palm of his hand now, Macca suggested they have a beer and sit on his bed and have a man-to-man chat.
‘Yeah, OK,’ Vinny grinned. He’d had a wonderful day, didn’t really want it to end. Sometimes when he woke up of a morning, he had reservations about what he was doing. But when he thought of the early starts he’d had to roll out those barrows for peanuts and the dosh he was currently earning, in his heart he knew he was doing the right thing. His mum had ordered a new carpet for the front room with the dosh he’d given her so far.
‘You ever smoked cannabis, Vinny?’ asked Macca.
‘Erm, no.’
‘You need to try some. That’s what I smoke when I go to my aunt’s parties. It chills you out, makes everything you do seem far easier. It makes you feel horny an’ all.’
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable again, Vinny stood up. ‘Best I be going now, mate. My mum sometimes needs me to look after me brothers and sisters. Thanks for me shirt and the meal though.’
The son of infamous bank-robber Teddy McCartney, Macca wasn’t stupid. He’d done his homework on Vinny, he’d had to in case his old man was a villain or he had older brothers who were liable to turn nasty if the truth came out. ‘We need to talk, mate. Sit back down.’
Feeling anxious, Vinny did as he was asked.
Macca turned to his prey. ‘I know you lied about your age, Vin. You’re fourteen, aren’t you? Not sixteen.’
Feeling stupid, Vinny put his head in his hands. ‘I’m sorry I lied, but I really needed this job to help me mum out. She works so hard herself and we struggle to pay the bills most weeks. My dad’s useless. He earns peanuts and most of that he gambles or drinks away. I’m the oldest son, so it’s me who should help out. I’m the only one that can.’
Macca put a hand on Vinny’s back. ‘It’s OK. I understand. But my aunt wouldn’t. She’d go mad if I told her, would sack you on the spot. She won’t employ underage boys, says it’s asking for trouble.’
‘Please don’t tell her, Macca. She don’t have to know, does she? I look so much older than my age, I always have done. All the lads in my class looked like little kids compared to me. I towered above the lot of ’em.’
‘I get what you’re saying, but if my aunt finds out I knew, she’ll sack me an’ all, Vin. She normally wants to see proof of anyone’s age before employing ’em. She didn’t with you, because I vouched for you and told her I knew you were sixteen. You’ve put me in a difficult position, if I’m honest. It also explains why you seem so uncomfortable around the clients.’
Vinny looked Macca in the eyes. ‘Please don’t grass me up, mate. I seriously do need this job. I know I’ve acted a bit mongy about parts of it. But I’ve had time to think now and I’m happy to go with the flow. Within reason, like.’
Macca sighed. ‘I dunno, Vin. I think my aunt will end up guessing unless you man up a bit. I take it you’re still a virgin?’
Vinny felt his face redden. ‘Yeah.’
‘And you can stay a virgin. You haven’t got to have full-blown sex with anybody, Vin. My aunt ain’t running a brothel. All you need to do is bits and bobs, nothing bad. You don’t have to have sex with people to put a smile on their faces. There’s other ways.’
Having never even kissed a girl, Vinny didn’t have a clue what Macca was talking about. ‘What have I got to do then?’
‘It’s probably best I show you rather than tell you. You trust me, don’t you?’
Vinny nodded. He was desperate to bring home his next wage packet.
Macca grinned. ‘I like you, Vinny. You remind me very much of myself at your age. I’m not gonna grass you up to my aunt. You’re my mate, so I’m gonna teach you some tricks of the trade instead. Take your jeans off and get in my bed.’ Macca turned his back as Vinny got undressed and rolled a joint. He lit it up, placed it in an ashtray and then took his own jeans off.
Vinny had never felt more awkward in his lifetime. He was shaking, but he couldn’t lose this job. It paid too much and his mum needed the money.
Macca got into the bed next to Vinny and handed him the ashtray. ‘Smoke some of that.’
Vinny nearly coughed his lungs up with the first puff, but every time he took another he felt calmer and somehow more in control.
Macca waited until they’d finished the joint before putting his hand inside Vinny’s pants. His penis was big for a lad of fourteen and immediately became rock hard. ‘This is all you have to do, mate, to earn fortunes. Not too bad, is it?’ Macca said softly.
Having never felt the urge to masturbate before, Vinny didn’t know if he was coming or going. Until he actually came that was. It felt explosive, awesome, unreal. But so very wrong at the same time.
Totally unaware her pride and joy had just been tossed off by a twenty-six-year-old man, Queenie yelled, ‘Cooee, that you, Vinny?’
‘Yeah.’
Vinny took a deep breath. He could not look his mother in the eye. It felt like, if he did, she would guess what he’d been up to. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ he lied. ‘Apart from having a dodgy stomach all day.’
‘Let me make you up an Andrews powder. That’ll sort you out. Did you not go shopping in the end?’
Feeling a little dizzy, Vinny flopped on the sofa. He’d run out of Macca’s flat so swiftly, he’d forgotten his shopping bags. ‘Yeah, I went shopping.’
‘You’ve not been drinking, have you? Your eyes look glassy.’
‘No, Mum.’
Queenie handed her golden boy his Andrews. She was sure he had been bloody drinking. He looked as white as a sheet. ‘Get that down your hatch and take it from me, alcohol is a slippery slope, boy. You’ve only got to look at your father.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m nothing like him.’
‘So where are your shopping bags then?’
‘Round my mate’s. I forgot ’em.’
‘See! You have been drinking. I knew it!’
Knowing his mother would throttle him if she had any inkling he was stoned, Vinny thought it best to own up to being a bit tipsy. ‘I had two beers and, if you must know, I hated the taste. But because I was with my mate from work, I thought I better drink ’em ’cause I don’t want him guessing my real age. I bought you something, and Roy, Michael, Bren, Champ and Auntie Viv.’
Queenie softened. Vinny had already admitted to her he’d lied about his age to land the job in the posh hotel. ‘You’re a good boy, you are. Do you know what, I always knew you were special from the moment you were born. I’m glad you’ve made friends at work and I’d love to meet Macca. Why don’t you invite him round for tea?’
Vinny didn’t know if it was the Andrews powder hitting the back of his throat or the thought of his mother meeting Macca that made him spew his guts up all over her carpet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Queenie got out of bed, checked on Brenda, who was still asleep, then marched down the stairs. She’d heard that drunken bum of a husband of hers come in after midnight and he’d made an awful racket. ‘Gawd stone the crows! You’ve broken me fucking mirror. How did ya do that? You stupid bloody fool.’ The mirror in question was hung on the wall. It was attached to a big silver chain. The chain was still there and part of the mirror, but most of it lay smashed on her new carpet.
Albie lifted the blanket from over his throbbing head. It was all coming back to him now. He’d tripped up and gone head first into the poxy mirror.
Queenie looked at the gashes on her husband’s head in horror. He was covered in congealed blood. She immediately looked down at her new carpet. ‘Oh no. Look what you’ve done, you bleedin’ imbecile! There’s blood on my new carpet our son worked his bollocks off to pay for. I’ll never forgive you for this, Albie Butler, not ever. Seven years’ bad luck you’ve cursed us with and you’ve ruined my lovely carpet.’
‘I’m sorry, love. It was an accident. I tripped.’
‘Don’t lie! You were legless, you dirty, stinking old tramp.’ Beside herself with anger, Queenie picked up one of Albie’s slippers and began clouting him around the head with it.
Hearing shouting, Vinny and Roy ran downstairs. ‘What’s going on?’ asked Roy.
Vinny burst out laughing as he witnessed what his mother was doing.
Queenie gave her husband one last clump, then pointed to the mirror, then the carpet. ‘Look what he’s done, the pisshead. Broken my mirror and got blood on our lovely new carpet.’
‘Stop it! What you doing?’ Roy shrieked when Vinny grabbed his father around the throat.
Michael appeared and tried to grab hold of Vinny, then Brenda ran into the room and began screaming.
‘Do you know how hard I worked to buy that fucking carpet?’ Vinny hissed, shaking his father’s neck as though he were throttling a chicken. ‘Well, do you?’ he bellowed.
When Vinny swung around and pushed Michael away with such force he fell on his backside, Queenie stepped in. She could understand Vinny’s anger, but he was scaring her. She knew he had a temper on him, but never had she seen him like this before. His piercing green eyes looked manic. ‘Enough,’ Queenie yelled. ‘Stop it, now! You’re scaring the kids.’
Vinny punched the wall, sank to his knees, put his head in his hands and breathed deeply.
Albie held his throat. He was in shock, could barely breathe. His eldest son had actually tried to kill him.
Brenda put her little arms around her father’s ankles and clung to them. She was frightened.
