In Cold Blood: A Brother’s Sworn Vengeance. Julie Shaw

of you, I don’t want fucking nightmares on top of everything else. Ha-ha, just kidding, Titch. My mates were laughing the other day when I was telling them about you. I told them that you always say you’re strawberry blonde and not a ginner. See, even they think you’re a funny little fucker. Well I’m getting off now, Titch, and I don’t think you’ll be allowed to visit with me mam. Write me a letter back though, with all that going to school like a little swot, I know you can write.

      All my love, Vinnie xxxxxxxxxxx

      June read Vinnie’s letter to anybody who would listen. She had it with her, in her handbag, at the Bull.

      He’d only been gone for two weeks and she had been working herself up into a right state waiting to hear from him. ‘He’s punishing me, the little bleeder!’ she’d moaned to Jock the week before. ‘Either that or he’s narked at you.’

      ‘Narked at me?’ Jock had answered. ‘What have I done?’

      June looked at her hulk of a husband. Took in the baggy suit trousers, the greying shirt – with its familiar tramlines of braces – the equally greying hair, that had once been the same flaming red of his two younger children, the bulbous nose, the bulky middle … took it all in and considered where to start. ‘Nothing,’ she’d replied irritably. ‘Exactly that. Nothing. You couldn’t even be arsed to wave him off when he went!’

      ‘Oh, that’s right,’ Jock had shouted then, ‘blame me, you always do.’ He’d shook his head dismissively. ‘I can read the lad like a book, June. He’s making you sweat for not putting up a fight for him, that’s all. He’ll write, don’t you worry, and when he does, it’ll be to whine at you for summat, just like it always is.’

      Jock had been right. Not that she’d ever dream of giving him the satisfaction of hearing it from her. In fact when the long white envelope had plopped through the box that morning, she’d pounced. As soon as she saw the Brighton postmark across the top, she’d swiped it up from the mat and stuffed it down her nightie so that she didn’t have to share it with the miserable git.

      Still hadn’t, in fact, and would only do so when she felt like it. After what he’d said about his own son, it was no less than he deserved. She had it now though, in her bag, just as she’d had since she’d got it. She’d been dying to get it out and parade it down the Bull.

      Which she’d already done – they’d been in there an hour now – but the more pissed she became, the more often she would get it out to dissect.

      Listen to this,’ she said to Maureen now. ‘Oh, he’s such a funny little bleeder …’

      Maureen was June’s best friend – she had been since they were both in their teens. And also her relative, since she was Jock’s sister. She was like June in so many ways, but unlike her in the important ones; she was older and wrinklier, and, since she no longer bleached her hair like June did, a lot mousier, despite the amount of slap she optimistically trowelled on. She crushed out her fag, drained her glass of bitter and banged it down on the bar. ‘June, I’ve heard it 20 fucking times. All right, yes, the lad’s a comedian. Now put that bloody thing away and let’s have another drink, okay?’

      June stuffed the letter back into her bag. Maureen didn’t understand. How could she? She was only Vinnie’s auntie, after all. And probably jealous, June decided, because her own kids were thick as pig shit. She drained her own glass and flicked her hair and, turning her back on Maureen, smiled sweetly at the drunk propping the bar up next to her.

      ‘Wanna buy a lady a drink, Bobby?’

      He turned and snorted at her. ‘You’re no fucking lady.’

      June rolled her eyes, but she was only mock-annoyed at him. No, she wasn’t a lady – not that he’d know the difference – but she was still getting a drink out of him, one way or another. ‘So,’ she said, ‘are you getting the drinks in or not? Cos if not, you can fuck off and fart next to somebody else.’

      Maureen’s laugh exploded out of her. ‘June! You can’t say that!’

      June threw a withering glance at her sister-in-law. ‘Can’t I? I just did. If he thinks he’s standing here, dropping ’em, without buying us a couple of drinks, he’s got another think coming.’

      Bobby grudgingly paid for two more halves of bitter, much to the amusement of Donald, the landlord.

      ‘You’ve certainly got a way with words, June, I’ll give you that,’ he commented drily, as he scooped up the money that Bobby had scattered on the bar.

      June winked at him. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere, Don,’ she told him. And though the comment was a throwaway one, she meant it.

      Donald had run the Bull a good few years now, and she’d known him for all of them. As she would – it was her and all of her friends’ local. It was the hub of the Canterbury Estate community, the Bull; the place where deals were clinched, plans were made and affairs started.

      Donald was married, but he was also an incorrigible flirt, and June – having a soft spot for him – always enjoyed his attention. It would usually take the form of something more than just a wink or two, as well. Not tonight though. Maureen might be her best mate, but she had her loyalties – she’d grass her up to Jock in a flash. All it would take would be one little argument, and then she’d say anything to drop June in it with her brother. No, tonight she’d behave herself. No harm in trying to blag a few free drinks though.

      ‘So,’ said Maureen, who didn’t seem finished with Vinnie after all. ‘Did he write our Josie too? Bet she’s been missing him like crazy.’

      June nodded. ‘Wrote us both.’

      ‘Aww, I bet she was happy, the poor mite.’

      June considered this. ‘You know, come to think about it, she was a bit funny when I gave her it. A bit narky.’

      ‘Narky? Why’d she be narky?’

      June shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She’s been miserable since he left – course she has; I know she’s been missing him. They’re two peas in a pod, those two – but when I gave her it, she didn’t even seem to want to look at it. It was only cos I made her that she did read it out. And then the soppy little bleeder started crying halfway through.’

      ‘Aw, bless her, June. You really think that’s any wonder?’

      June stared into her glass. No, it wasn’t any wonder really. Of course she missed Vin – they both did – but, well, it just felt like she’d been hit by a ton of bricks. Hit by his leaving way more than she’d expected.

      ‘I know,’ she said to Maureen. ‘I know it’s hit her really hard, but, I don’t know … she’s really not herself – she’s been walking round like a fart in a trance. Even Jock can’t sort her out – and her being such a daddy’s girl, as well. I don’t know if she blames him, but it seems like it – she doesn’t want to know him. Even gave him a slap the other day – cheeky little git that she is.’

      ‘A slap? What on earth for?’

      ‘For nothing. I swear I don’t know what’s got into her. All he did was try and get her to sit in his chair with him to watch the racing. Now that’s not like her, is it? She loves her dad.’

      ‘No,’ Maureen agreed. ‘That’s not like her at all. But give her time; it’s only been a couple of weeks, hasn’t it? Have you written back to him yet?’

      June sighed. ‘Not yet.’

      ‘Why ever not? I’d have thought you’d have done that the same day!’

      ‘I know. And I want to. It’s just so hard knowing what to say. I mean, he’s all happy and that, talking about when I come down and visit. But I can’t, can I? Old Saggy Tits made it quite clear – there won’t be no visits. Bastards. Don’t they realise? A lad needs his mother! And I mean, they might, mightn’t they? She did say about