Kimberley Chambers - Payback

‘Accident! An accident! I’ll give you fucking accident, sticking up for that murdering Turkish cunt,’ Queenie yelled, slapping her son repeatedly around his stupid head.

‘Ahmed, I think it’s best you leave now. This is meant to be a funeral and it’s turning into a circus,’ Michael said, aware that everybody including the vicar was gawping.

‘Let me at him! Let me at the evil murdering shitbag!’ Vivian shrieked, desperately trying to shrug off her nephew’s grip.

Ahmed held his hands up in surrender. ‘I wanted to pay my respects, but I shall leave now. I am sorry if I have upset anybody.’

With Vivian and Queenie still shouting obscenities in the background, Ahmed turned up the collar of his black Crombie coat and slowly walked away, smirking to himself.

Things went from bad to worse as the vicar said a few words after both coffins had been lowered into the ground.

‘What’s that? What you just thrown in my boy’s grave?’ Vivian hissed, prodding her sister’s arm.

‘Zippy the monkey. He loved that toy and you put it out for the dustmen. I thought it should be buried with him, Viv. It was always his comfort thingy.’

‘Noooo! You can’t bury Zippy! I want him. I want to keep him,’ Vivian shrieked. Shoving the vicar out of the way, she literally threw herself on top of her son’s coffin.

As every single mourner present stood frozen, open-mouthed, Queenie was the first to react. ‘Do something, Vinny. Get her out of that hole,’ she screamed.

Dutifully obeying his mother’s orders, Vinny wished the hole could be filled with earth with him in it. His brother and cousin’s expensive farewell had turned into a joke. One that the East End and criminal fraternity would dine out on for years.

Desperate to save face after such a public display in front of the vicar, Queenie made a point of putting on her poshest voice and personally inviting all of the neighbours back to the wake.

‘You can count me out, Queen. I’m in no mood to socialize. I just want to be on my own,’ Vivian told her sister, clutching Zippy the monkey tightly to her chest.

‘Hold that monkey normally please, Viv. People are staring at you. You are coming back to the club. Our neighbours must already reckon you’ve lost your marbles after the way you threw yourself on top of Lenny’s coffin, and if you don’t show your face at the wake, they’ll think you’ve lost the plot completely. Mouthy Maureen and Nosy Hilda will be the first to spread such rumours, you mark my words.’

‘Like I give a shit what any of the bastards think,’ Viv snarled.

‘Yes, you do. You’re just not thinking straight at the moment. We haven’t got to stay at the club long. But we do need to show our faces, especially after today’s little fiasco. That’s the least we can do for our sons’ memory,’ insisted Queenie in a tone that brooked no argument.

Not wanting the wake to be a sombre affair, Vinny had hired a band for the occasion. Max Bennett was an old timer when it came to the East End pub circuit, and he always encouraged punters – or in today’s case, mourners – to stand up and belt out a song or two.

The professional caterers had put on a nice display. As well as the usual buffet food, there was every type of seafood you could imagine, including a dozen big tubs of jellied eels.

‘Good idea of yours, getting Max in to sing, Vinny. I can’t believe the amount of people that turned up. I expected a big crowd, but not quite this big. The Davisons from Charlton are here, and Freddie the Fox,’ Michael informed his brother.

The Davisons were a very big crime family who ran a scrap-metal business in South London as a front for their illegal activities. Freddie the Fox was an ex-bank robber who originated from Whitechapel but had moved to the Costa del Sol after his latest prison sentence had ended. ‘I’ve already spoken to Freddie. Bowled over that he travelled all the way from Spain just for the funeral. I feel such a mug though that I couldn’t go through with the speech. And what with Mum and Auntie Viv’s performance at the graveside …’

Michael put a comforting arm around his brother’s shoulders. ‘You should be proud of yourself today. I have never seen such a well-organized funeral in my life, and you arranged it all.’

‘Did you invite the Mitchells to the wake?’

‘Yeah, but they had some important business to attend to, so couldn’t make it. Nice of them to attend the funeral, though, eh? Proper respectful people.’

‘Old school, Michael. Eddie’s the one to look out for in the future. Very charismatic and has a good head on his shoulders, by all accounts. Much more feared than his brothers are, and his reputation is growing by the day.’

‘Did they know Roy personally?’

‘Only to say hello to. Roy and I bumped into Eddie, Paulie and Ronny in a bar once when you were just a kid. It was around the time we bought this gaff and they wished us good luck with it. Haven’t crossed paths with them much since then, but I did see Eddie in a restaurant once when I was with Karen. We exchanged pleasantries and that was it.’

‘Well, given the number of faces that turned up today, it just goes to show how highly regarded we are. Nobody is going to give a toss that you didn’t give a eulogy, nor will they care what happened at the graveside. Perfect families do not exist, especially in our world, Vinny. Just hold your head high and give yourself a pat on the back for giving Roy and Champ such a great send-off.’

Not for the first time that week, Vinny looked at his brother with renewed admiration. Michael was so much more of a man without that lunatic of a wife around him.

Determined to restore her family’s credibility, Queenie Butler plastered on a false smile as she chatted jovially to the neighbours and locals. Truth be known, she did not want to be at the wake any more than Vivian did, but she was determined to act her way through it.

Spotting old Mr Arthur heading her way with his medals pinned proudly on his suit jacket, Queenie ducked out of sight. Listening to that silly old bastard rambling on about the war was the last thing she needed today of all days. Using the well-wishers for cover, she darted back to the table where Vivian was sitting with Joanna.

‘Brenda is the bane of my life, honestly. Only caught her necking alcohol! Silly little mare is pregnant again, and if she harms that baby, I will kill her stone dead. Sent her back to mine with the kids. Little Vinny was playing up, and Michael’s three were bored.’

When neither Vivian nor Joanna replied, Queenie could not help but lose her cool. ‘Say something then, the pair of you, even if it’s only “arseholes”. Never seen two faces look so much like a wet weekend. Best you snap out of your little sulk, Joanna, else Vinny won’t be amused. I know you’ve got the ike because he told you to sit here while he chats to the men, but men of importance like Vinny always stand with the blokes, love. When they’re talking business, they don’t want their birds stood by their side, do they? It isn’t the done thing.’