who he is very cagey about. He never even mentioned the child’s existence until he was seen out with her. Now why would Johnny be trying to keep her a secret, eh?’
‘You think the kid could be Vinny’s?’
Ahmed grinned. ‘It looks that way. When Preston saw his boss in the restaurant, he said the child was not related to him, but then she called him “Granddad”. Apparently the mystery child has jet-black hair and green eyes. Sound like anybody you know?’
‘Sure does. Vinny will go mental if he finds out Joanna had another kid by him and kept it a secret. He’ll be climbing the walls in his prison cell.’
Ahmed had been surprised and annoyed by how well Vinny had coped with being incarcerated. He’d had a few altercations with fellow prisoners and had seemed very depressed when he first got banged up, but since then he’d taken it all in his stride. Obviously Vinny had no idea how much Ahmed loathed him. He still thought they were pals – the mug.
‘Exactly, Burak. Which is why, first thing tomorrow, I shall be hiring the best private detective money can buy.’
Over at the Walker household, Donald was becoming more embarrassed and angry by the second. Out of all of the days to play up, his grandsons had chosen to do so in front of Christopher and Olivia.
‘Stop acting stupid. Eat your dinner before it gets cold,’ Mary ordered.
Aware of her discomfort, Daniel giggled and flicked a pea at Lee, who in turn flicked one back that missed Daniel and hit Mary instead.
‘Right, that’s it! If they can’t eat like normal human beings, put their dinners in the bin,’ Donald bellowed.
‘Not hungry anyway,’ Daniel replied, defiantly pushing his plate away.
‘I’m not hungry either,’ Lee said, copying his brother as he always did.
When his nan took their plates away, Daniel leaned towards Adam. ‘I dare you to knock Olivia’s drink all over her.’
‘Nah, Dan. We’ll get in trouble.’
‘I’ll give you a pound if you do it,’ Daniel urged.
Seconds later, Adam stood up, pretended to stumble and did as he’d been asked.
‘You stupid clumsy child! Go and ask your nan for a cloth. I am so sorry, Olivia,’ Donald said in a mortified tone.
Christopher leapt up. ‘It’s OK, Dad. Most of the drink went on the carpet anyway. I’ll clean it up.’
Nudging Lee with a silly grin on his face, Daniel decided to go one better. ‘Why is your nose so big, Uncle Christopher?’ he asked innocently.
‘Mary! Get these children out of my sight before I do something I truly regret,’ Donald screamed.
Back in Whitechapel, Queenie and Vivian were discussing Little Vinny’s violent outburst.
After threatening the poor bloke on the next table, Little Vinny had tipped over a table, thrown a chair at some people who were standing at the bar, then stormed out of the pub.
‘Never felt so embarrassed since that time we got barred from Kings,’ Queenie said. Kings was the holiday park in Eastbourne where Vinny and Michael had once owned bungalows.
‘Got no sense of bloody humour, that boy,’ Viv tutted. ‘I mean, we were only ribbing him. And I’ll tell you something for nothing, no way am I ever getting in a car with him again. Drove like a bleedin’ lunatic. I felt right sick by the time he dropped us at the chippy.’
Queenie nodded in agreement. Little Vinny had hung around for her and Viv opposite the pub, but refused to speak to them all the way home. ‘I’m gonna have a word with Michael about him. I thought meeting that pretty girl had sorted him out, didn’t you? Living with Albie obviously hasn’t done him any favours at all.’
When Queenie had been officially married to Albie, Vivian had hated the sight of the man. She no longer loathed him though. ‘Albie isn’t a violent man, Queen, so you can’t be blaming him. Got your rose-tinted specs on again, aintcha? Well, let me take them off for you. There’s only one person Little Vinny takes after and that’s his bloody father.’
‘I suppose you’re right. Both got a bleedin’ temper on ’em, that’s for sure,’ Queenie admitted begrudgingly.
Pleased that her sister had agreed with her verdict, Vivian happily changed the subject. ‘How’s your Bren? You heard from her recently?’
Queenie pursed her lips. Since her daughter had moved to Dagenham to live with a bloke fourteen years her senior, contact had dwindled between herself and Brenda. ‘Nope. No matter what time of day I ring up, she’s never in. Out on the piss all the time with that tosser, if you ask me. It’s Tara and Tommy I feel sorry for. Must be raising themselves – and probably running riot, poor little mites. Do you think me and you should pay Bren another visit? Just to check the kids are being looked after properly.’
Vivian shrugged. Tara was twelve now, Tommy seven, and the last time Queenie had dragged her over to Dagenham for an unexpected visit, both kids had been happy enough and looked well-fed and dressed. Brenda and Dave had seemed content enough as well. ‘If you want my honest opinion, I don’t see what you’re gonna gain by us keep poking our trunks in. Even if you think the kids are unhappy, you ain’t gonna want custody of ’em, are you? Brenda and Dave are both pissheads, so they’re well suited. And at least Dave takes Bren out, Queen, unlike my Bill and your Albie did with us. Kitchen-sink women me and you were.’
Hearing the chugging of what sounded like a clapped-out vehicle outside accompanied by loud voices, Queenie ran over to the window. ‘Aw my dear Lord! Please don’t tell me this is our new neighbours.’
Vivian hobbled over to the window. Their old neighbour, Lil, had croaked it a few weeks back. They’d seen the council popping in and out a few times since, and had been expecting new neighbours to arrive any day now. Not at nine o’clock at night though, in a poxy old Transit tipper truck. There were two women, a man and a couple of boys.
‘Blimey, Queen. D’ya reckon they’re gypsies?’
‘No idea what they are, but I don’t like the bleedin’ look of ’em.’
‘We did say we’d be happy to get anyone other than Indians,’ Vivian reminded her sister.
Seeing the youngest lad, who looked about twelve, stick two fingers up at her, Queenie did the same back, then shut the curtains. ‘I’d prefer Indians any day of the week to that motley-looking crew. Trust our luck, Vivvy. I reckon God must bastard-well hate us at times, I really do.’
When ‘Relax’ by Frankie Goes to Hollywood began to blare out of the speakers, Joanna grabbed Nancy’s hand and dragged her off the dance floor. ‘Let’s get another Malibu and pineapple. My feet are killing me in these shoes.’
‘That bloke is still staring at you, Jo. He’s ever so handsome, don’t you think?’
‘I’m really not interested, Nance. Vinny’s put me off men for life. I’m quite content being a single mum, thanks very much.’
‘You can’t allow Vinny to ruin your life, Jo. You are stunning, you’ve got a heart of gold, and you deserve to find true love. Oh my God! I think he’s coming over. Please don’t be nasty to him. He just might be Mr Right.’
Little Vinny was not in the best of moods. He’d had a row with his girlfriend earlier, which was probably the cause of him kicking off in the Rose of Denmark. Now his uncle had just informed him that his father’s cellmate would be working at the club in the near future. ‘Why didn’t you say no? What’s he gonna be doing here? We don’t need any more staff.’
‘Jay’s brother has been murdered, and the lad is in bits. He can’t face going back to Liverpool by all accounts. I dunno what he’ll be doing yet, but to be honest Jay can only be an asset to the business. He’s a good-looking bloke