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Kenny? It weren’t me.’

      ‘It’s my fault. I invited Sheila, but ’cause that piss-pot is always in the Blind Beggar on Saturday afternoons, I didn’t dream she’d bring him with her. I wanted to tell him to fuck off when he walked in, but bit me tongue.’

      Desperate to stop Vinny from kicking off, Roy urged him to look at Lenny. Their cousin had just ran onto the dancefloor and was standing in the middle, wiggling his hips to the Hollies’ ‘Just One Look’.

      About to watch his little cousin, Vinny heard another ‘cunt’ sail out of Kenny Jackson’s gob and decided enough was enough. He flew out of his seat, walked over to where Jackson was sitting and tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Tone your language down a bit, Ken. My little sister and her friend shouldn’t have to hear such words. Neither should my mother and aunt for that matter either. You ain’t in the Blind Beggar with your chums now, you know.’

      Kenny Jackson looked at Vinny through glazed eyes. He didn’t like the Butler boys, especially Vinny and Roy. It was fast becoming common knowledge that they were a cocky little pair of bastards who were getting far too big for their boots. Knowing how fast news travelled and how much respect he would gain by standing up to Vinny Butler, Kenny decided to do just that. ‘You got some brass neck, you have. The grapevine is a funny old thing, kid, and everybody knows it was you who put your father in hospital because he was rumping some little dolly bird. Yet, you’ve got the front to tell me not to swear. Don’t make me laugh.’

      A few of the women and children screamed when Vinny lifted Kenny up by the scruff of his neck and head-butted him. ‘You don’t know who you’re messing with, you cheeky fucker. And who you calling “kid”?’ Vinny spat, as he bundled Kenny towards the exit.

      Sheila wailed hysterically when she saw that her husband’s face was covered in blood.

      ‘Do something, Roy. Don’t just sit there like a stuffed dummy,’ Queenie yelled.

      ‘Kenny Jackson asked for that, so don’t you be having a go at your Vinny,’ Vivian told her sister.

      Young Nancy couldn’t stop crying when she saw Roy and Michael follow Vinny outside. ‘I’m frightened, Christopher. Can we go home now?’

      ‘Don’t be scared. No-one ever beats my brothers up because they are the hardest men around here,’ Brenda said proudly to her friend.

      As some yelling and shoving started between another two men on the table behind, Christopher grabbed his sister’s hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’

      Mary and Donald had closed for the day and were just doing their daily tidying-up routine when they heard the frantic banging on the door.

      ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Mary asked, when she noticed Nancy’s tear-stained face and Christopher’s ashen one.

      ‘It’s OK. You’re home now. Just tell Daddy what has happened,’ Donald said, glaring at Mary and hugging his daughter at the same time.

      ‘There was a fight. The man looked like he was dead, didn’t he, Christopher?’ Nancy sobbed.

      Christopher nodded. When he and Nancy left the party, Vinny had been outside beating seven bells out of Kenny Jackson. Roy and Michael were unsuccessfully trying to get Vinny away from the man, and when Christopher and Nancy had glanced at Kenny, he was bleeding profusely and looked like he was dead.

      ‘Oh Donald. I’m so sorry. You were right and I was wrong,’ Mary said, apologetically.

      Donald liked to be proved right. ‘I think you need to find a new best friend at school, darling. That Brenda and her family are far too rough for you to be around.’

      ‘But I like Brenda. It’s not her fault, is it?’ Nancy said dismally.

      Mary decided to back her husband to the hilt. ‘Your dad’s right, love. You can still be friends with Brenda at school, but I don’t want you to see her outside.’

      ‘But why not?’ Nancy sobbed.

      ‘Because I just bloody said so. The same goes for you, Christopher. I know you’ve been hanging around near that snooker club because Mad Freda saw you and told me. She only lives a few doors away from it, you see. You are not to go near there any more. I don’t want either of you anywhere near them Butlers, OK?’ Mary said sternly.

      Thrilled that his beautiful wife’s brain seemed to be in fine working order once more, Donald smiled at her. ‘Thank you, my darling.’

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      Queenie put the topside of beef in the oven, then flopped down on the sofa next to Vivian. ‘I wish we could find out how Kenny is. He couldn’t have grassed Vinny up, else we’d have the police crawling all over us by now. Perhaps he is still out cold? Or, worse still, say he’s croaked it,’ Queenie said, her lips twitching anxiously.

      Realizing her sister was going out of her mind with worry, Vivian got up and poured them both a glass of sherry. ‘Of course Kenny ain’t dead. The ambulance man said he was still breathing, didn’t he?’

      After Roy and Michael had managed to drag Vinny off Kenny Jackson, they had moved him away from the snooker club, dumped him in a nearby doorway, and rung an ambulance. Sheila had been told to say nothing and Queenie was sure that providing Kenny survived his ferocious beating, neither he nor Sheila would dare implicate her Vinny. Grasses were despised in London’s East End, and treated worse than vermin.

      ‘If Kenny dies and my Vinny goes to prison, it’ll be the end of me, Viv. I’d die of a broken heart, I just know I would,’ Queenie said dramatically.

      ‘Oh for Christ’s sake, stop talking bollocks and drink your sherry, will ya? Vinny’s got our dad’s temper, that’s his bloody problem. Anyway, Kenny Jackson took liberties and Vinny had every right to give him a good fawpenny one.’

      ‘How dare you talk about my Vinny in the same light as that nasty old bastard,’ Queenie spat. Their father was dead now, thank God, but before he had kicked the bucket, he’d led their poor mum a dog’s life.

      ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Your Vinny is nothing like Dad. I just said he had a similar temper,’ Vivian explained.

      ‘No he has not! Have you forgotten how Dad used to beat Mum up? My Vinny would never lay a finger on a woman, Viv. He’s a gentleman,’ Queenie insisted.

      Michael stomped in, ending the awkward exchange between the two sisters.

      ‘What’s up? Has something happened to do with Kenny Jackson? Vinny ain’t been arrested, has he?’ Queenie gabbled.

      ‘No. I’m just pissed off because Linda has blown me out. Well, it weren’t actually her. It was her dad that did the deed.’

      ‘Why?’ Queenie asked.

      ‘Why do you think? Her dress got splashed in claret yesterday, didn’t it? Her dad saw it when she got home and hit the roof. I tried to explain to him that what had happened had nothing to do with me, but he wasn’t having none of it. He told me that under no circumstances would I be allowed to take Linda out again, then he shut the door in my face.’

      ‘What a fucking liberty! Do you want me to speak to him? Or even better, send Roy or Vinny round to have a word?’

      Michael shook his head. ‘Nah, not worth it.’

      ‘Oh well. Perhaps it’s for the best, love. There’s plenty more fish in the sea and you need a girl who will understand your family, don’t you? You’re in business with your brothers now, so no point you being with someone too naïve who has up-their-arse parents. They won’t fit in with us,’ Queenie advised.

      ‘And Vinny did say to you that you shouldn’t have invited Linda yesterday, didn’t he? Perhaps you should keep any future girlfriends away from the club. Business and pleasure should always be kept separate, Michael,’ Vivian added.

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