Tainted Love. Kimberley Chambers

that top, Shirl. The glittery silver one,’ Madge pointed out.

      About to take a closer look, Shirley was struck in the side of the head by a fist. ‘How dare you show your face around this neck of the woods! Scum like you and that grandson of yours should be hung from the rafters,’ Queenie Butler screamed.

      The Butler and Preston family had more bad blood and betrayal between them than your average soap on TV could produce in a whole year.

      Shirley’s lip curled up in fury. ‘He’s innocent, my Jamie, you senile old bat. You wanna look closer to home to find your granddaughter’s killer. Jamie heard through the grapevine that Ben Bloggs killed himself on the day of Molly’s funeral. I wonder why?’ she bellowed.

      Shoppers froze and looked on in amazement as all hell broke loose. ‘Your son killed my Roy,’ Queenie yelled, dragging Shirley to the floor by her hair.

      ‘And your Vinny killed my Joanna and Johnny,’ Shirley shouted. The driver of the red truck that had ploughed her granddaughter’s car into a ditch had never been caught and Shirley knew in her heart that Vinny had organized Joanna’s death. Her son Johnny had been a broken man and had ended his own life shortly afterwards.

      As Madge waded in, Vivian did the same. ‘Get off my sister, you fat slut,’ Vivian screamed, aiming blows at the over-sized woman. ‘Your whore of a daughter ended my sister’s marriage,’ she bellowed, punching Shirley as well. Back in the sixties, Albie Butler had had an affair with Judy Preston, Shirley’s daughter. Jamie was the child the Butlers had never known existed until he killed Molly.

      When stallholders joined the fracas, the Enemy cursed his luck. Should he hang around? Or would his urge to murder a Butler have to wait until another day? In this crowd no one would see who struck the final blow …

       CHAPTER NINE

      ‘Put another ten kilo on for me, Jay,’ Vinny ordered. He’d originally caught the training bug while serving time and now couldn’t imagine life without his regular gym sessions.

      ‘I spoke to Michael yesterday. You didn’t tell me Bella was back on the scene, Vin.’

      Grimacing as he lifted the overloaded bar above his head, Vinny hissed, ‘She’s a slapper and a messer. Don’t you think I have better things to talk about than her?’

      A bit taken aback by the look of hatred on Vinny’s face, Jay Boy sensibly dropped the subject.

      ‘I need to make a phone call. I won’t be a tick,’ Vinny said.

      Vinny took his phone out of the locker and rang Michael. ‘We’re gonna sort out that little problem today. It’s definitely a goer. I’ll pick you up from your club at four.’

      ‘No way can I make today, Vin. I had to blow Bella out yesterday ’cause you said it was definitely a goer then. I’m not cancelling my plans again.’

      ‘You wuss! Can you hear your fucking self? Get a grip, Michael. Your bit of fluff sodded off for months on end with no real explanation, and now you wanna put her in front of family business. What are you? A man or a fucking mouse?’

      When Michael slammed the phone down on him, Vinny smirked. His brother would blow Bella out in favour of giving Brenda’s bloke a good hiding, and that was the plan.

      Nosy Hilda and Mouthy Maureen loved a bit of gossip, and today’s was far juicer than most. Neither woman particularly liked Queenie or Vivian, but they loved discussing their business.

      ‘Start from the beginning and talk more slowly. You ramble when you’re excited,’ Maureen ordered her friend.

      ‘I told you something was going on between Albie and Vivian when I saw them in the pub together, holding hands and gazing into one another’s eyes. Well, Queenie’s obviously cottoned on because it all kicked off down the Roman yesterday. Old Mother Taylor told me Jewish Harold on the clothes stall told her that Queenie yelled “You’ve stolen my husband!” Apparently, they were rolling about the pavement like a pair of fishwives, fighting.’

      ‘Blimey! That’s a turn up for the books. Let’s go for a walk around Mr Patel’s. Queenie usually gets her paper about nine-ish. Be good to hear what happened from the horse’s mouth. The stuck-up old cow might even want to be friends with us now if her own sister’s stabbed her in the back.’

      ‘Can you imagine Viv and Albie humping? Makes me feel ill. I’ll get me coat. Let’s go.’

      ‘Michael!’ Antonio D’Angelo squealed with delight as he threw his arms around the man he hoped would one day marry his mum and become his daddy.

      ‘It’s so good to see you, Antonio. I’ve missed you and your mum so much. Open your presents, boy,’ Michael urged.

      ‘You really shouldn’t have bought him gifts, Michael. He has everything a child could wish for as it is,’ Bella chuckled.

      Gesticulating for Bella to follow him into the kitchen, Michael took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Even in a red velour tracksuit, she looked simply stunning. ‘I’m so sorry I can’t make the restaurant, babe. It’s a long story but my sister’s had some grief with her bloke. I’m gonna have to shoot off about three, if that’s OK with you?’

      Bella forced a smile. She knew exactly the way Vinny’s evil mind ticked and what he was trying to do. ‘That’s fine, Michael. Family comes before pleasure.’

      ‘Here she is! Say what you said you was gonna say,’ Mouthy Maureen hissed.

      As Queenie approached the newsagent’s, the first thing Nosy Hilda noticed was her black eye. ‘Oh dear! Are you OK, Queen? I heard what happened. You must be distraught. I mean, who’d have thought it? Your Albie and Vivvy. I was gonna tell you when I saw them holding hands in the pub, but you know me, I don’t like to gossip about other people’s business.’

      Queenie looked at Hilda in astonishment. It wouldn’t be the first time the ugly scarf-wearing old hag had got the wrong end of the stick. ‘What the hell you going on about? I had a tear-up with Shirley Preston, not my Viv. Albie and Vivvy holding hands in the pub! When? And what fucking pub?’

      ‘Sorry, Queen. We’ve obviously got the story arse-upwards.’ Mouthy Maureen tugged her friend’s arm. ‘Come on, Hilda. Let’s go.’

      Vivian had offered to keep an eye on Ava and the horrid little mutt while her sister went out to get the newspapers and some eggs. ‘Put the ratpig in the garden, Ava,’ she ordered as the dog tried to hump her left leg.

      ‘His name’s Fred, not Ratpig! And he’s got his dingle-dangle out again, Auntie Viv,’ Ava giggled.

      ‘Just do as I say, Ava, please. Now!’

      ‘Ava, take Fred upstairs. I need to have a word with your Auntie Viv,’ Queenie yelled, slamming the front door. She’d chased Hilda and Maureen down the road demanding answers when they’d tried to swerve their accusations.

      ‘Whatever’s wrong?’ Vivian asked.

      ‘You cosying up to Albie in the Grave Maurice, holding fucking hands, Viv, is what’s wrong. A laughing stock, I am, thanks to you and that womanizing old wanker. How long you been seeing him behind my back?’ Queenie yelled, her eyes blazing with fury.

      Vivian leapt off the sofa. ‘Don’t talk so bleedin’ daft. You’ve lost the plot, you have.’

      ‘That nosy old trout Hilda told me exactly what she saw, and she’d be too scared to lie. I don’t care about my feelings, what I care about is my sons’. Mouthy Maureen knows an’ all. Can you imagine who else must know if them two old crows have been talking about it? My Vinny and Michael have worked bloody hard to secure their reputation and I am disgusted with you, Viv. Albie, of all people! I knew you’d warmed to the old goat, but truth be known, it was all your fault that