Payback by Kimberley Chambers

his mother rudely poked him in the arm. ‘Me and you need to have a little chat, now!’
    Annoyed that she had shown him up yet again, Vinny gave his mother his coldest stare. ‘Mum, this is David Fraser. Mad Frankie’s son.’
    Putting on a completely different tone to the one she had just used, Queenie smiled at the handsome dark-haired chap and held out her right hand. ‘Lovely to meet you, David. How is your father?’
    ‘He’s doing OK, thanks. Giving the screws the runaround as always. I’ll be visiting him again next week.’
    ‘Well, do give him our regards – not just from me but from all of my family.’
    ‘Will do. I have to make a move now, Vinny. I’ve got to be somewhere. Look after yourself, and tell your brother I said goodbye.’
    Vinny shook David’s hand, then waited until he walked away before tearing into his mother. ‘Do you get off on embarrassing me or something? The Mitchells were stood by the graveside when you and Auntie Viv made a show of me earlier, now you’ve just spoken to me like I’m a ten-year-old child in front of David Fraser. Cheers for that, Mum. He must think I’m some right mug.’
    ‘I didn’t know it was Mad Frankie’s son, did I? I didn’t even know you knew the Frasers.’
    ‘There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, Mother. Just try not to make me look a fool in front of people in future, eh? And drop the silly posh voice, it really doesn’t suit you.’
    Queenie was not one to be told off. ‘And would one of those things I don’t know about be Trevor Thomas, by any chance? Don’t you even think about lying to me, because I knew you and Michael were up to something earlier this week. Never going to be able to look poor Jeanie in the eye again, am I?’
    ‘I have no idea what you’re on about, Mum. I haven’t seen Trevor since he ran off with that slag, Yvonne.’
    ‘Swear on my life,’ Queenie demanded.
    Before he could speak, Michael ended the conversation by grabbing Vinny’s arm. ‘Bobby Jackson’s only had the nerve to show up. Shall I throw the cheeky bastard out, or do you want to do the honours?’
    Vinny’s lip curled into a snarl. He hated Bobby almost as much as he had despised his father. ‘Where is he?’
    ‘Stood at the corner of the bar. Christ knows how long he’s been here. I reckon some idiot left the main door open and he just wandered in.’
    Usually, whenever the club was open Pete and Paul were on the door, but because they were lifelong friends of Roy and extremely fond of Lenny too, Vinny had given them the day off to enjoy a good drink at the wake like everybody else. ‘He’s overstepped the mark this time, bruv. We can’t let this go, we’ll be a laughing stock.’
    Michael nodded. The whole of Whitechapel was aware of the bad blood between Vinny and Bobby, therefore he’d have to be taught a lesson for taking such a liberty.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Queenie demanded. She could barely hear herself think over Big Stan’s rendition of Johnnie Ray’s ‘Cry’. Talk about murdering a great song.
    ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Mum. Just an uninvited guest, that’s all. Go and sit back down with Joanna and keep her company for me. I’ll be over with some more drinks in a minute,’ Vinny ordered.
    Bobby Jackson had been out on one of his little benders. He had celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday the previous day and ended up pulling some bird in the Ilford Palais, so he was still in yesterday’s clothes. He’d been on his way home when he had spotted the door of the club open, and unable to resist the lure of free alcohol, Bobby had decided to sneak in. The worst Vinny would do was chuck him out, surely?
    A sucker for a pretty face, Bobby was busy chatting up one of the barmaids and did not see Vinny creep up behind him. ‘You’re not the first to say I look like Les McKeown. I get it all the time, I do,’ Bobby chuckled.
    ‘Well, you won’t be looking like Les by the time I finish with you –