then inwardly squirmed as the baby was placed in his arms. Apart from wishing she had never been conceived, he felt nothing for his sister whatsoever.
Albie Butler had been honest about his past from day one with Dorothy, so she had known about his affair with Judy Preston and why he had felt the need to leave the restaurant. He had also told Bert all about Judy when he had first moved to Ipswich. ‘I’m so sorry I spoilt the day. I really am,’ Albie slurred yet again.
Dorothy hated seeing Albie drunk. He had a tendency to repeat himself constantly, but she could understand his need for a good drink today. He’d had a nasty shock. ‘I’m going to leave you boys to it. I want to finish my book. Don’t drink too much more tonight, Albie. You fell down the stairs last time you got very drunk and you know how I worry about you.’
‘I won’t, darling. Night night, love you.’
When Dorothy left the room, Bert turned to his brother. ‘I didn’t want to say anything in front of Dorothy, but I guessed who it was and swapped seats after you left the restaurant so I could do a bit of detective work. I take it Judy was the one with the squeaky voice?’
Albie nodded.
‘Well, she had two kids with her. A boy about sixteen and a girl about seven. How old would your kid be now if she’d had it?’
Counting the years with his fingers, Albie felt relief wash over him. ‘Would have been about eleven now. I reckon the boy you saw was her son Mark. He was about three when I was with her, and the girl sounds far too young to be mine. You sure she weren’t older than seven?’
‘Eight tops, but she certainly weren’t bleedin’ eleven, Albie. I reckon you’re in the clear, mate. Perhaps she did a runner, aborted your kid and made a fresh start?’
Albie grinned and cracked open another can. It suited him to believe that Judy had aborted his child. It made his thoughts far less complicated. Most men in his position would have turned around and confronted Judy. Not Albie though. He’d had enough drama in the past to last him a lifetime, and was happy to just let sleeping dogs lie.
Michael Butler followed Bella into her Chelsea apartment and was immediately taken aback by its opulence. He had thought she was joking when she pointed at the brand-new Porsche in the car park and said it was hers. ‘Jesus, babe, this is some gaff. How long you lived here?’
‘Two years. What would you prefer – red or white wine?’
‘Whatever you’re having,’ Michael replied, looking around in awe. The kitchen and bathroom were both state-of-the-art and knocked spots off his own. The lounge was absolutely striking. It had a multi-coloured carpet, beige being the base colour, with red, blue and green circles all over. The sofas were bright red leather, and in two corners of the room stood life-size carved wooden figurines of a Romany-looking naked man and woman.
Michael opened the sliding glass door and walked out onto the balcony. The view of London was incredible this time of night. The lights of the greatest city on earth literally lit up the sky.
‘Do you want to drink your wine out there?’ Bella asked.
‘No, I’m coming in now,’ Michael replied, shutting the glass door. He sat down on the sofa. ‘So, how comes if you were brought up in Italy you speak such good English? Do your parents both speak English?’
‘Yes, but not in the home. My dad hired a private tutor to teach me from very young. He said it was important I learn the language. I can speak Spanish too. I must tell you something, Michael.’
‘What?’
‘Even though your eyes are green and your hair is darker, you really remind me of David Essex.’
Michael laughed. ‘But he’s got a bird’s hairstyle.’
‘You look like he did in That’ll Be the Day and Stardust, when his hair was shorter. I loved him in those films.’
Michael took a sip of his wine and stared at Bella. He wasn’t just mesmerized by her beauty; it was so much more than that. She was unlike any girl he had ever met in his life and he couldn’t help but be impressed by her and her obvious wealth and lifestyle. ‘So, what type of modelling do you do then?’
‘I get asked to do all sorts of shoots. I’ve done catwalk too. I might get into acting soon. I’ve just hired myself a new agent.’
‘Do you have to strip off and all that?’
Bella chuckled. ‘I do glamour shots, but never nude. My dad is well-respected back in Italy and he would kill me if I ever went overboard. I show plenty of cleavage, but won’t go topless. My dad is a proud man and I respect his wishes.’
‘Well, you must be doing something right to be renting a gaff like this,’ Michael replied.
‘I do not rent this apartment, Michael. I own it.’
Apart from when he had lost his virginity at a very young age, Michael couldn’t remember feeling so nervous around a female before. Bella was having a strange effect on him and he wanted to fuck her more than he had ever wanted to fuck Nancy or any other bird he’d known. He could tell she wanted him, but he had to be straight with her first. ‘Look, there’s something I need to tell you. I’m married, Bella.’
‘So? I wasn’t intending on proposing to you, Michael. I just want to make love with you. Let’s fuck, shall we?’
Feeling his body shake with pure lust, Michael stood up and grabbed Bella by the hand. ‘Where’s the bedroom?’
Ignoring the question, Bella sank to her knees and undid the zip on his trousers.
Michael thought he had died and gone to heaven when she began expertly sucking his penis. No bird had ever been this forward with him in the past and it was such a turn-on, he was sure his erection was bigger than usual and his cock about to burst.
Grabbing Bella’s head to stop himself from coming too soon, Michael stared at her as she let go of his manhood. Her eyes were a mesmerizingly pale blue. ‘Take your clothes off,’ he ordered, his voice husky with lust.
Bella stood up, pouted seductively and took her clothes off in a slow, tantalizing manner.
Transfixed by her naked beauty, Michael forgot all about his wife and kids as he ripped his own clothes off then rammed himself inside Bella as hard as he could. What followed was the most mind-blowing sexual experience of Michael Butler’s entire life.
Michael Butler poured himself a large Scotch and settled into one of the new sofas. The club had recently been refurbished. Gone was the old burgundy leather furniture that Vinny and Roy had originally bought in 1965. That had now been replaced with opulent green leather sofas and chairs. The walls were now covered in new orange-based patterned wallpaper, and Lenny’s old DJ console had made way for a performance area to accommodate the live bands and singers they hired these days. The DJ equipment had just been a constant reminder to both Michael and Vinny that Champ was no longer with them, so they had made a joint decision to get rid of it.
Rubbing his tired eyes, Michael leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Guilt was eating away at him and he could barely look Nancy in the eye any more. As for Bella, he could not stop thinking about her. He had resisted the urge to contact her again, but that did not stop him yearning for her.
‘Whatever is wrong with you? You look like a tramp and you’ve had a face like a slapped arse for days. You ain’t still fretting we’re gonna get banged up for Trevor’s murder, are you? Only that’s chip-wrapping now, that is,’ Vinny said. This was his first full day back at the club since Molly had been born and it had been a real wrench for him to leave her.
Michael sat up and put his unshaven face in his hands. Knowing his pal would disapprove, he had not felt able to confide in Kevin and he needed to tell somebody. ‘I’ve