Backstabber. Kimberley Chambers

day, if only it would bring him back to life.

      Queenie squeezed her eldest’s hand. Ava hadn’t wanted to come to the hospital, had chosen to go back to Albie’s house in Barking with Michael. No way would Queenie leave Vinny’s side though. She could see in his eyes how hard this had hit him, and even though she was still in a state of shock herself, she needed to remain strong. It was her duty as a mother.

      ‘Tell me again what the bastards said, Mum. See if you can remember the exact words this time.’

      ‘It was all such a blur, Vin, I really can’t think straight at the moment. But they definitely spoke with Turkish accents, and I’m ninety-nine per cent sure I heard them mention Ahmed’s name. They said something like “This is for Ahmed.” It was the one in the Bill Clinton mask, I think. No, it might’ve been the other one. So scary, those awful masks were. I thought they were armed robbers at first, I really did.’

      ‘I’ll find ’em and fucking make ’em wish they’d never been born, I promise you that much. When I get my hands on the bastards, I’ll—’

      ‘Shut up! Just fucking close that big mouth of yours for once, will ya?’ Little Vinny screamed, stopping his father mid-sentence. ‘My beautiful wife is fighting for her life. My son is dead. And all this is your fault. You playing the big man is what has brought on this tragedy in the first place. How dare you sit there, planning your revenge at a time like this? Piss off home, and take him with you an’ all,’ Little Vinny said, poking Calum on the arm. ‘None of yous are bothered about Sammi-Lou. All he’s bothered about is Regan. As for you and Nan, you’re two of a fucking kind. All you care about is each other.’

      About to jump to his mother’s defence, Vinny Butler was stopped from doing so by the arrival of Sammi-Lou’s father. Vinny and Gary Allen had never seen eye to eye, and when Gary started insinuating that what had happened was his fault, instead of arguing the point, Vinny blanked the man and stood up. ‘Come on, Mum, and you, Calum. We’ll leave Sammi’s family in peace and pop back later.’

      The last thing Vinny heard as he stomped down the corridor was the scathing comments from Gary Allen: ‘Leave us in peace! I’ve never had a decent night’s sleep since my Sammi became a Butler. A disaster waiting to happen, this was. And it isn’t your son’s fault, it’s yours.’

      ‘Don’t let him talk to you like that,’ Queenie hissed.

      Unusually for Vinny, he chose to ignore his mother’s advice. Oliver was dead; Sammi-Lou, even if she did survive, would probably be brain-dead. So for once, Mouth Almighty Allen did have an extremely valid point.

      Albie Butler was sitting in silence in his favourite armchair. It was full of cigarette burns, and worn out in places – and that’s exactly how Albie felt at this moment. Old, stained and faded. Albie had hoped, even prayed that the wonderful Vivian would get the send-off she truly deserved, but it wasn’t to be. Her funeral would go down in history for many years to come, but for all the wrong reasons.

      Michael grabbed the brandy bottle and topped his father’s glass up, then his own. ‘You got any food in the fridge? You didn’t eat at the wake, did ya? I’ll make you something.’

      ‘I’m not hungry, lad. But thanks anyway. Be turning in her grave, will Vivvy, and truth be known I hope I don’t wake up tomorrow. I’ve had enough of this world, Michael. I’m tired, I’m old, and I want to see Vivvy again. And our Roy, Adam, Oliver, Brenda and Molly. Got more family up above now than down ’ere.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Your mum’s always blamed me for Molly’s death, seeing as it was my bastard son that did it. But I had nothing to do with the way he was brought up – I never even knew the kid existed. It wasn’t me that made him a killer. So I reckon your mother has far more blood on her hands than me. I’ve often wondered if Vinny was born evil, but I don’t believe he was. It’s your mother’s doing, the way he’s turned out. Queenie was determined to mould her first-born into a crime lord to match the bloody Krays. I remember how she used to look up to Violet Kray back in the day. She’d see the way shopkeepers would let Violet jump the queue and make a big fuss of her, how everyone kowtowed to her, and she was jealous. That’s what your mother craved: notoriety and adulation. And with no way of achieving that in her own right, she was determined yous boys would do it for her. It’s her that’s evil, boy, and she has blood all over her hands after today’s shambles. Lovely lad, our Oliver. What a waste of a bloody life. And I’ve always thought the world of Sammi-Lou. Why is it always the good ones that suffer and not the bad souls? The devil certainly looks after your mother and Vinny,’ Albie spat.

      Shocked by the viciousness in his usually mild-mannered father’s words, Michael was taken aback. ‘Mum ain’t evil, Dad. She is what she is. Today wasn’t her doing. As for Vinny, we all know he’s got a streak, but he has calmed down of late. I bet he’s as shocked as anybody. Ahmed and Burak vanished years ago – why wait until Auntie Viv’s wake to turn up, hell-bent on revenge? It just doesn’t make sense.’

      ‘Of course it makes bleedin’ sense! They were gunning for your brother and, as per usual, he got away unharmed while others weren’t so lucky. How you can stick up for Vinny or your mother after that Bella turnout, I will never know. Your mother moulded Vinny into the money-grabbing power-loving fruitcake that he turned out to be, and Vinny chose to pal up with Ahmed in the first bloody place. Had he chosen his friends more wisely, Oliver would still be alive and Sammi-Lou would not be at death’s door. You need to wake up and smell the coffee, boy. The evil in this family will outlive you, if you’re not very careful. You mark my words.’

      Head bowed, Eddie Mitchell felt desolate as he leaned against the wall and lit a cigar. Stuart’s motor was parked up in Stratford, but no way could he face travelling back to Essex in the vehicle the two of them had been laughing and joking in only this morning. He got all choked up just thinking about the way he’d been taking the piss out of his future son-in-law’s girly-looking air freshener and his rubbish taste in music.

      ‘I’m gonna have to get off in a bit, if that’s OK?’ Raymond stated and asked at the same time. His wife’s parents were coming over to theirs for dinner and Polly would have his guts for garters if he did not turn up. It was her mother’s birthday.

      ‘Yeah – you get off. And you, Gary,’ Eddie muttered. He’d originally met Stuart in prison. They’d shared a cell together and bonded almost instantly. Stu was far more than a pal or employee to Eddie. The lad was like another son to him.

      ‘I haven’t got to be anywhere. I’ll come to Frankie’s with you. Have you switched your phone back on yet? Frankie isn’t silly, ya know,’ Gary reminded his father.

      ‘I rang Joey. She’s been trying to ring me and Stu, but she don’t know anything yet. Joey took her out for something to eat, like I told him to. I couldn’t even tell him on the phone Stuart’s dead, so fuck knows how I’m gonna explain that to Frankie. She’s bound to blame me. So will Stu’s mum, I bet. Best I pluck up the courage to pay her a visit tomorrow an’ all. It’s what Stuart would’ve wanted me to do.’

      Gary put a comforting arm around his father’s shoulders. Life had toughened him up to the point that not much fazed him these days. ‘Let’s call a cab, eh? I’ll do the talking when we get to Frankie’s. We need to be strong, Dad. Frankie’s gonna need us more than ever now. Poor little cow ain’t destined to find happiness, is she? Perhaps those bastard gypsies cursed her after all.’

      Meg Allen darted along the hospital corridor with her youngest daughter by her side. She and Millie had been spending a relaxing day being pampered at an Essex health farm when Meg had checked her phone messages. Gary had left one, telling her there’d been an incident and she needed to make her way to the London Chest Hospital in Bethnal Green as soon as possible.

      ‘Whatever’s happened? And why haven’t you been answering your bloody phone? We’ve been worried sick,’ Meg Allen screamed at her husband. She and Millie had thought of every scenario possible and panicked throughout the journey. Meg had come to the conclusion her husband must have endured some kind of heart failure, but here he was, fully dressed, and apart from looking