mum’s house with family and a few of the neighbours. Look, between me and you I think Karen has a bit of a drug problem. On a few occasions, she has got out of her nut at the club and I’ve got a feeling she’s buying the shit off one of my other barmaids. You can’t start calling ambulances, or the Old Bill, because they will put on her record that she is a druggie and stop her from seeing Little Vinny. Break her heart and his, that would. They have become so close now.’
Debbie looked at Karen’s son’s tear-stained face and reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t mind looking after Karen tonight. My kids are at their dad’s, so I can stay here with her. What if she takes a turn for the worse though? I can’t sit back and do nothing then.’
Vinny asked for a pen and paper. ‘I’m sure she’s over the worst. Whatever she’s taken is bound to wear off soon. I’m going back to the club now, and that’s the phone number. If by any chance you are really worried about her, ring me and I’ll pay for a private doctor to visit her. That way, it won’t go on her record. I would hate to see her looked upon as a bad mother ’cause she isn’t. I’m meant to be helping her move tomorrow, so I’ll be back first thing in the morning. If she still isn’t well enough, we’ll leave moving until Tuesday.’
After she’d seen Vinny out, Debbie shut the door and leant against it. Even though Vinny had seemed sincere enough, there was something about his story that just didn’t ring true.
Back in Whitechapel, Michael had finally managed to get his mother alone, and was just building up to giving her his father’s letter when the doorbell rang.
‘Auntie Queenie, Colleen wants you,’ Lenny shouted out.
Queenie pushed past Michael and dashed down the stairs. Colleen never visited the house alone, so it must be something important.
‘Where have you been? I’ve been trying to ring you for the past two hours,’ Colleen said, before bursting into tears.
‘There was a bit of a scuffle and the cable got pulled out the socket. We’ve only just noticed it and put it back in,’ Vivian explained.
Fearing that her son had lost his battle for life, Queenie clung onto the banister for physical support. ‘Please God don’t tell me Roy’s dead,’ she stammered.
Even though she was still crying, Colleen’s tears were ones of pure happiness. ‘Roy’s come out of his coma, Queenie. He’s awake!’
As usual on a Sunday, Terry Smart had spent the whole day abusing his liver. At ten p.m. he said goodbye to his pals and staggered out of the Grave Maurice pub and onto the Whitechapel Road. Seconds later, a white van pulled up, the back doors flew open and two foreign-looking men leapt out and grabbed him. ‘Get off me, you cunts. What the fuck you doing?’ Terry slurred, as he was bundled into the back of the van.
Instead of answering Terry’s question, one of the men grabbed a cosh, smashed Terry over the head with it and knocked him spark out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Queenie’s initial joy that her son had awoken from his coma somewhat dwindled during the course of the next week. Looking at Roy was like looking at a completely different person. He was nothing like the son she had known before the shooting. Roy was now paralysed down the left-hand side of his body, and had minimal movement in his right side. He had to be spoon-fed small amounts of mashed-up food like a baby, and his face was drooped on one side which made him look like he had suffered a bad stroke. The poor mite also had no control over his bowel movements and Queenie was sure she could see the horror in his eyes every time he shat the bed. There was no way he could tell anyone how he was feeling though, as when he tried to speak, it was more like noises than words coming out of his mouth. The only plus side that Queenie could think of was Roy recognized his family. He had tears rolling down his cheeks every time Colleen spoke about her pregnancy, so he obviously understood what was going on. He had also tried to ask in his own way what had happened to him, and had understood when Vinny had told him he had been shot outside the club and Johnny Preston had been arrested for the shooting.
‘You OK, Mum? You seem ever so quiet this morning,’ Vinny asked, as he parked his car.
Queenie had always had a reputation for being as hard as nails, but seeing Roy in his current state on a daily basis had really taken its toll on her. In this past week, she had cried more tears than in the previous thirty years, and once again she couldn’t prevent them from rolling down her cheeks.
Vinny took his keys out of the ignition, leant across his seat and enveloped his mother in his arms. The club had re-opened again now, but Vinny hadn’t shirked any of his other responsibilities. He had spent nearly all day every day at the hospital since his brother had woken up and he planned to support both Roy and his mum as much as he could, whatever the future might bring. ‘You got to stop getting upset like this, Mum. Every time I see you cry, it makes me want to do the same. We need to be strong for Roy’s sake, and his unborn child. They are both gonna need us to be at the top of our game, aren’t they?’
‘I just can’t bear seeing your brother as he is, Vinny. He ain’t the boy I gave birth to any more. He’s a fucking vegetable,’ Queenie spat, her face contorted with pain and anger.
Vinny hated hearing his brother referred to as anything but normal. ‘Don’t say shit like that, Mum. We’ve got to be positive. Perhaps the scan results will give us some better news? Roy hasn’t been awake for long, and the doctors did warn us that his recovery would take time and patience.’
‘But, say he don’t get better? Say he never walks and talks again, eh? He can’t stay in hospital forever, and how am I meant to cope if he comes and lives with me? He won’t be able to get up and down the stairs, will he?’
Vinny laid his mother’s head on his shoulder and stroked her bleached-blonde hair. ‘Let’s not look too far ahead, eh? Roy will be in hospital for ages yet, and if he’s still no better when the time comes for him to be discharged, then we can look into other options. Perhaps we could hire some nurses to care for him? I would do anything for my family, Mum, and if that means paying privately for the best care possible to help Roy with his recovery, then so be it.’
For the first time that morning, Queenie managed a weak smile. ‘You’re a good boy, Vinny. The best a mother could wish for.’
Michael Butler felt rather nauseous as he paid the jeweller in crisp twenty pound notes.Getting hitched at his age was the last thing he really wanted to do, but since his mum had checked out Denise’s pregnancy story, which her doctor had confirmed to be true, Nancy had barely spoken to him.
Michael loved Nancy more than he had ever loved any girl, and he knew he was on the verge of losing her forever, which is why he had bought the engagement ring today. It was the only rabbit he could pull out of a hat to save their rapidly deteriorating relationship. Surely marrying her was better than losing her, wasn’t it?
Unaware of her boyfriend’s planned proposal, Nancy was sitting on the bench in her favourite little park currently crying on her mother’s shoulder.
‘Oh, Nancy. Why don’t you come back home, love? I can talk your dad and brother around, so don’t you be worrying about them. You don’t want to stay with a lad who’s having a baby with another girl, do you? It’s too much to take on something like that, especially at your young age.’
‘I know you are right, Mum, but even though I hate Michael for doing this to me, I still love him as well. He says he will support his child financially and as a father, but he has sworn to me he wants nothing whatsoever to do with Denise. He reckons she trapped him on purpose by not taking her contraception pill.’
Mary held her daughter’s hands and squeezed them. ‘Only you can decide what you want to do, darling, but let me tell you one thing. Whenever you have a child with someone it creates a strong bond, and this one’s a bond you won’t be part of. I know Michael says he wants nothing to do with Denise, but once she gives birth to his child he will be in contact with her on a regular basis again. How’re you going