herself a good ’un there. Gone out engagement-ring shopping, they have. You’ve only just missed them.’
Vinny grinned. Young Dean was certainly making an effort and that’s what he liked to see. If Dean carried on excelling himself in the same way then Vinny might even employ him as part of the firm. Paying him a decent wage would also ensure Brenda and the baby were well looked after. ‘Where’s me little terror?’ Vinny asked.
‘Gone round the shops with Lenny to get me some pearl barley. I’m cooking lamb stew, your father’s favourite,’ Queenie said.
Vinny chuckled. ‘I’ve got some rat poison at the club. I should have bought it round so you can add an extra bit of spice to Dad’s.’
‘Would have probably killed him. He is a fucking rat,’ Vivian added, with a grin on her face.
‘Mum, has Michael said anything to you about this new bird of his? Don’t say I mentioned anything, but he’s been disappearing at odd times of the day and it all seems a bit secretive for my liking.’
‘No, he ain’t. He’s definitely loved up though, I know that much. Maybe our Alfie’s found the one,’ Queenie chuckled.
He and Michael had been getting on quite well recently, but Vinny still had a hunch that his brother was lying to him about the identity of his bird. The only way to find out was to follow him one day. ‘Oh and Mum, while I think of it, I’ve organized a joint engagement party for our Roy and Brenda. Monday week at the club. I thought Lenny could do his first disco for us that night,’ Vinny said, grinning at his aunt.
Vivian clapped her hands together with excitement. ‘Oh, wait till I tell him. He’ll be made up, Vinny.’
‘Lenny might be made up, but I doubt Roy and Colleen will, son. Not only is it bloody short notice, but I think they will want their own big moment. They did get engaged first.’
Vinny did his best to look serious. He knew that Roy and Colleen would be pissed off sharing an engagement party with Dean and Brenda, which had been the idea in the first place. ‘Don’t be daft, Mum. It ain’t like they’re sharing it with strangers. Brenda and Dean are family, and sharing is what families like ours do.’
Michael Butler laughed when Nancy told him the story about Roger’s visit to the Top of the Pops studio. ‘Honestly Michael, he really thought he was making me jealous when he said Marc Bolan kept looking at him when he was singing. He really is a such a twerp.’
Michael put his arm around his girlfriend and, even though they were sitting on a park bench in broad daylight, kissed her passionately. When he had first met Nancy she had been quite shy with him, but she had now come out of her shell a lot. Her stories always made him laugh and his feelings for her were becoming stronger as every day passed. ‘I wish we could spend more time with each other, Nance. I know we always spend the whole of Wednesdays together, but an hour or two here and there the rest of the time just don’t seem enough, does it?’
Nancy sighed and laid her head on Michael’s shoulder. ‘I know. I feel the same, but with me working days and you nights, it’s so bloody awkward.’
Michael racked his brain for a minute then came up with a suggestion. ‘Look, please don’t take this the wrong way, but can’t you pretend that you are staying around a mate’s next Tuesday night? I can easily get that night off and I can book us into a nice hotel in London. No hanky panky, unless you want to, I promise. It will just be so nice to spend the whole night together even if we just kiss and cuddle, then we can spend all day Wednesday up the West End. I’ll take you shopping, then we can go for a nice meal. What do you reckon?’
Nancy grinned broadly. Her parents were bound to give her a Spanish inquisition as she rarely stayed out all night, but she could handle them. Also, her brother had just spent two nights away camping and seeing as she would soon be seventeen, they had no right to dictate to her what she could and couldn’t do. ‘As long as you keep those wandering hands of yours to yourself, Michael Butler, I reckon we just might have a deal.’
Queenie was delighted when Brenda burst through the door and excitedly showed her the ring on her finger. Her daughter had never been the cheeriest of girls, and Queenie couldn’t help but think how happy and radiant she looked for a change. ‘Vivvy, come and have a look at this. Oh Bren, it’s beautiful. Where did you get it?’ Queenie asked Dean.
‘At a jeweller’s shop in Bethnal Green, Mrs Butler.’
‘You’re virtually family now, so we’ll have no more of that Mrs Butler, you call me Queenie, boy. What happened to your eye by the way? Walk into a door? Or your dad’s fist, did ya?’
‘Yeah, something like that,’ Dean replied.
‘Oh, it’s stunning, Bren. What a lucky girl you are to have a handsome ring like that. My stone was no bigger than the head of a pin on the ring that Bill bought me. And it was a bastard fake,’ Vivian said bitterly.
Lenny hated being left out of anything that the adults were talking about. ‘How much did that cost then?’ he asked.
‘You don’t ask people how much things cost, Lenny. It’s rude,’ Vivian scolded her son.
‘Are you gonna stay for a bit of dinner, Dean? Vinny, Roy and Michael will be here soon,’ Queenie said.
‘No, but thanks anyway. I need to sort things out with me dad and stuff.’
‘Well, if he clumps you again, you tell my Vinny. He’ll sort any differences out for you,’ Queenie told her future son-in-law.
Feeling totally out of his depth with such an overpowering family, Dean pecked Brenda on the cheek, told her he would pop around to see her the following day, then darted out the front door.
Both Queenie and Vivian were glued to the window as Roy ushered Albie up the path. He had a great big brown hat on and a long tan-raincoat.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. He looks like Clint Eastwood in A Fist Full of Dollars,’ Queenie laughed.
‘He looks like a fucking flasher more like. I hope he ain’t got his meat and two veg hanging out under that mac,’ Vivian chuckled.
‘Yuck! That ain’t worth seeing, trust me on that one. Right, try and keep a straight face ’cause if you laugh, then so will I,’ Queenie ordered her sister.
‘Hello Uncle Albie. Auntie Queenie reckons you look like Clint Eastwood now,’ Lenny said, hugging his long-lost uncle.
‘You can’t say nothing in front of him. Ears like Dumbo he’s got,’ Vivian mumbled.
‘Hello, Lenny. Ain’t you got big, eh? And look at you, Brenda. My, my, you were only a little girl last time I saw you, and now you’re a proper young lady. How are you, darling?’ Albie asked his daughter fondly.
‘Up the spout! And how are you, dear Daddy?’ Brenda replied, glaring at her father.
About to giggle at her daughter’s warped sense of humour, Albie turned to his wife, so somehow Queenie managed to contain herself.
‘Hello, Queenie. Thanks for inviting me round for dinner. It truly means the world to me to see you all again.’
Queenie stared at her estranged husband and couldn’t help but be shocked. He had aged so much, and his face was wrinkled and gaunt-looking. ‘Take your coat and hat off, Albie. What do you want to drink? Tea? A beer? Or brandy?’
‘I wouldn’t say no to a brandy, Queenie, and is that your legendary lamb stew I can smell cooking?’
‘It sure is. I remembered how much you liked it. Right, come and help me pour the drinks, Vivvy,’ Queenie ordered her sister.
‘What you being so nice to him for?’ Vivian spat, as soon as they were out of earshot.
‘I’m not. I only asked if he wanted a fucking drink and answered his question about the stew. Oh, thank Christ for that, here’s Vinny and Michael.