Michael had come on in leaps and bounds over the years and was now a valuable asset to the business. Once Vinny had drummed into his little brother that driving around on a silly scooter with a soppy over-sized parka on was not a cool or adult look, Michael had grown up overnight. Roy was a different matter. Ever since he had fallen hook, line and sinker for the Irish tart he was dating, he expected to take nights off at will to wine and dine her. Vinny had always put work before pleasure and to say he was displeased with Roy’s carefree attitude this past year was putting it mildly. Things hadn’t come to a head just yet, but Vinny knew he was very near to blowing his top with his brother. He’d only tried to keep a lid on it because he knew if they fell out, not only would it affect their business, it would also greatly upset their mother.
‘Well? Did you enjoy that?’ Vinny asked, when his son jumped off the ride and ran towards him.
‘Nah. It was shit, Dad. Can I go on the dodgems?’
Chuckling, Vinny lifted his son up in the air above his own head. ‘There’s Auntie Brenda over there,’ Little Vinny said.
‘Where?’
‘Over there with them boys.’
Vinny put his son down and looked to where he had been pointing. Brenda was standing scantilly dressed with her friend Susan Shipton. They were blatantly flirting with a crowd of long-haired lads and when Vinny saw one put his hand on Brenda’s backside, he saw red and marched over. ‘Oi, what do you think you’re doing touching her like that?’ he asked, pushing the culprit so hard, he fell backwards and landed on his backside.
‘We’re only having a laugh, mate. We ain’t taking no liberties,’ one of the lads said to Vinny.
‘Don’t you “mate” me, you cheeky fucker,’ Vinny said, roughly grabbing hold of his sister by the arm.
‘Leave me alone. I am entitled to a life, you know. We ain’t done nothing wrong. Tell him, Sue,’ Brenda screamed, trying to wriggle out of Vinny’s grasp.
Susan Shipton said nothing. She was well aware of Vinny’s temper and if she opened her mouth it would only make matters worse.
Marching Brenda away from the group of lads, Vinny pushed her against the side of a nearby hula-hoop stall. ‘How dare you embarrass the family name by coming out dressed like that? You look like a slag, Bren, a cheap fucking whore, and I will not put up with it.’
‘But all the girls are dressing like me. I’m not a slag, Vinny. It’s the fashion,’ Brenda wept.
‘I don’t care what the fashion is, Bren. You are my sister and I will not be laughed at because you are roaming around town dressing and acting like some hooker. I have my reputation to consider, understand? Now, get yourself straight home. I will be checking with Mum to make sure you obeyed my orders.’
‘I hate you,’ Brenda screamed, running away.
The song being played on the waltzer as she bolted past was Three Dog Night’s ‘Mama Told Me Not to Come’, and if there was one song Brenda did not want to hear at that very moment, it was that.
Unaware that the girl who had just run past her crying was her old schoolfriend Brenda Butler, Nancy whooped with delight as the waltzer started up.
‘Don’t spin us too fast,’ Rhonda said to the man who was standing directly behind them.
The man winked, and then of course spun the girls around until they screamed like babies, begging him to stop.
‘Oh, I feel dizzy. I think I’m going to be sick,’ Nancy joked, clutching her friend’s arm as they staggered off the ride.
‘Don’t look now, but there’s a bloke staring at us. Actually, I think it’s you he’s looking at. He is wearing a dark suit and he’s very handsome,’ Rhonda said, giggling.
Nancy looked around and immediately locked eyes with the lad. He looked a bit older than her and Rhonda, and there was something slightly familiar about him. When he smiled at her, Nancy felt her insides knot together. He didn’t look anything like Marc Bolan. He had more of a sixties look. He wore his hair swept forward like the Beatles used to wear in their heyday. Nevertheless, he was incredibly stunning and Nancy could not take her eyes off him.
‘Oh my God! He’s coming over to you, Nance,’ Rhonda exclaimed.
How her knees never buckled under her when the handsome lad approached her, Nancy would never know. He was even more beautiful up close than from a distance. His hair was jet black, his eyes were a piercing green, and his perfect straight teeth were as white as driven snow. He was even better-looking than Marc bloody Bolan.
‘Is your name Nancy?’ the lad asked politely.
Nancy couldn’t trust herself to speak, such was the effect this stranger was having on her, so she nodded instead. How the hell did he know her name?
The lad held out his right hand. ‘You used to knock about with my little sister, Brenda, for a short spell many moons ago, and I never forget a pretty face.’
Nancy clapped her hand over her mouth as recognition engulfed her. ‘Michael. Michael Butler,’ she mumbled.
Michael smiled and flicked his hair out of his eyes in a seductive manner. ‘You remembered me then?’
At the tender age of eleven, Michael Butler had been her first major crush, so how could Nancy ever have forgetten him?
‘You all right, love?’ Queenie shouted, as she heard her daughter stomp down the stairs.
‘No. I’m anything but all right which is why I’ve decided to go out, and seeing as I am sixteen, there is nothing you can do to stop me,’ Brenda replied. She had been fuming when she’d arrived home yesterday from the fair. She had expected some sympathy off her mother, but instead her mum had stuck up for Vinny. Talk about old habits dying hard.
‘If you walk out of this house, young lady, don’t you bother coming back. You know it’s Little Vinny’s birthday party,’ Queenie yelled.
Yesterday had been a wake-up call for Brenda and she could kick herself for not standing up to Vinny at the fair. All her brothers were over-protective of her, they had been ever since they had found out she had a boyfriend at thirteen, but Vinny was by far the worst. Glaring at both her mother and her aunt, Brenda put her hands on her hips. ‘Fine! I’ll go and pack my case now.’
‘Will all my friends be there yet?’ Little Vinny asked his father as they drove towards Queenie’s house. He had already received some great presents. His dad had bought him a bike, a Hornby train set, and an Airfix Spitfire, and his Uncle Michael had given him some Stickle Bricks and a Meccano set.
‘No. Your party don’t start till one and it’s only twelve,’ Vinny explained, glancing at Michael. His brother was sitting in the passenger seat staring out of the window like a zombie. ‘What the fuck’s up with you? You were acting really weird last night.’
Michael shook his head as if to try to wake himself up. Over the years he had dated more girls than Vinny and Roy put together, but not one had ever had the effect on him that Nancy Walker seemed to be having. His mum and aunt often joked he should be called Alfie, after the playboy in the Michael Caine film, such was his thirst for pretty girls, but since meeting Nancy yesterday, Michael could think of little else. ‘Sorry I’ve been a bit distant, but I can’t stop thinking about someone I bumped into. Do you remember the girl whose parents ran Old Jack’s café for a while before it was turned into a butcher’s shop?’
‘Yeah, ’course I do. It was her little brother who lied to the Old Bill for me,’ Vinny chuckled.
‘Well, that’s the girl I met at the fair yesterday. Her name’s Nancy and she has to be the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.’
Vinny looked at his brother in pure disgust. ‘Fuck me, you are making me want to vomit. Don’t be getting involved with her. Her father was a right sanctimonious bastard, and I don’t fancy opening up a can of worms over the Phillips you-know-what. You ain’t arranged to take her out, have ya? I thought you were still shafting that Denise bird?’
‘What’s you-know-what mean, Dad?’ Little Vinny asked curiously.
‘Not now, son. I’m talking to your Uncle Michael.’
‘Me and Denise have done nothing but argue for the past month, Vin. She keeps talking about marriage and babies and I’m gonna have to end it with her. I’m just not that into her.’
‘So, have you asked this Nancy out?’ Vinny asked, as he parked the car outside his mother’s house.
‘Well, not exactly. But, I did invite her and her mate to come to the club on Friday night,’ Michael replied, rather sheepishly.
‘You did what? That Nancy was roughly the same age as our Brenda. We run a nightclub, not a fucking playgroup, Michael. Anyway, as I’ve already told you, I don’t want you having nothing to do with that family. Talk about open up old wounds.’
Michael said nothing. Nancy had told him that she worked in Woolworth’s in Ilford, so he would pop in there and speak to her. Vinny might be able to stop Nancy from coming to the club, but he couldn’t stop him from taking her out somewhere else. Michael didn’t usually dare disobey Vinny’s orders, but there was something so special about Nancy that for once ignoring his brother’s instructions seemed like a risk worth taking.
Over in Ilford, Donald turned the open sign to ‘closed’ on his shop door and breathed a sigh of relief. Sunday was the only day he and Mary closed early, and now Nancy was working full-time in Woolworth’s, Sunday afternoons were the only quality time they got to spend together as a family. Today, Donald had invited his and Mary’s friends, Derrick and Margaret Robins, over for a traditional roast dinner. Young Roger would be accompanying his parents and Donald hoped that today would be the day when his stubborn daughter would finally see sense.
Nancy’s favourite TV programme was
Top of the Pops
and Donald had quietly suggested weeks ago to Roger that he should apply for tickets. Going to watch some of her favourite pop stars appear live was much more Nancy’s cup of tea than going dancing or to the pictures, and Roger receiving the tickets this week had worked out very well because Nancy’s all-time idol was currently at number one in the charts, which meant he would definitely be performing on the show. Donald grinned as he took the stairs two by two. There was no way Nancy would refuse a date with Roger if it meant her being able to see Marc Bolan up close, so his plan had worked out perfectly. Donald patted himself mentally on the back. He was such a clever man at times. He really was.
Little Vinny’s party wasn’t going quite to plan. ‘Where are all my other mates, Dad? Why ain’t they come yet?’ the boy asked, a sad expression on his face.
Absolutely gutted that his pride and joy was upset on his birthday, Vinny hugged his son tightly to his chest. ‘Your guess is as good as mine, boy,’ he said, seething inside. He had no idea why only fifteen of Little Vinny’s friends had turned up, but when he saw the fathers of the other fifteen who had failed to show, Vinny would make the bastards pay.
Another two people currently discussing why only half of Little Vinny’s mates had turned up were Queenie and Vivian. ‘I reckon there’s been a bug going around his school or something,’ Queenie said, trying to make some sense out of the awkward situation. It would never have occurred to her that people might not want their children mixing with her notorious family, as she only saw her brood as perfect.
‘Lenny, come over here now. You’re too old to play musical chairs. You’ll squash all the children,’ Vivian shouted out.
Realizing that Lenny looked near to tears, Vinny walked over to him and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. ‘I’ve got a special job for you, Champ. I want you to be the DJ and stop the music. Can you do that for me?’
‘Yeah, ’course I can,’ Lenny replied, his eyes lighting up with excitement. His life’s ambition was to become a DJ, such was his love for music.
‘Your Vinny is just so good with Lenny, ain’t he, Queen? He has far more tolerance with him than I seem to have lately. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits, but he do drive me mad at times,’ Vivian confessed.
‘So, where’s Roy and Brenda?’ Michael asked, plonking himself on a chair next to his mum.
‘Roy rang up this morning, said he’ll be here by two, and Brenda stormed out with her suitcase earlier. Leaving home again, she reckons.’
Vivian chuckled. ‘Do you remember the last time Bren packed her case and left? She was back by bleedin’ teatime.’
Queenie raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement. ‘So, how did you get on at the fair yesterday? Was you there when Vinny and Bren started arguing?’ Queenie asked Michael. Then, noticing the blush on her youngest son’s cheeks and the twinkle in his eye, she changed tack. ‘Alfie strikes again! Come on then, who is she?’
About to tell his mum about meeting up with Nancy, Michael was interrupted by a scream and a thud.
‘Oh my gawd! You all right, love? What happened?’ Queenie asked, rushing to the aid of the child who had fallen and cut his head open on the hearth that surrounded her fireplace.
‘It was Vinny. He pushed Jacob over so he could sit on the chair first,’ a little blonde girl informed Queenie.
‘No, I didn’t. You’re a lying grass,’ Little Vinny replied, glaring at the girl.
Worried that her grandson was about to lunge at his little guest, Queenie grabbed him by his arms so he was facing her. ‘Now, tell Nanny the truth. Did you push that boy over?’
‘No, I did not.’
‘Yes you did,’ the injured little boy said, holding his bloodied head in his hands.
Michael and Vinny glanced at one another. Both were aware that apart from some of the children playing musical chairs, they were the only two people in the room who had clocked what had happened. Even when the injured child started crying for his mother, both Michael and Vinny kept schtum. They were Butlers through and through and snitching on their own was totally out of the question.
Realizing that his difficult daughter was obviously bored, Donald decided the time was right to spring the surprise on her. ‘Mary, go and get the Pomagne out of the fridge, so I can open it.’
Mary knew that the Pomagne had been bought to signal Roger’s surprise, and she had a feeling her daughter wasn’t going to be as elated with the
Top of the Pops
tickets as Donald insisted she would be.