Kimberley Chambers - The Trap

Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

The News Building

1 London Bridge Street

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2013

Copyright © Kimberley Chambers 2013

Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2017

Cover photographs © Silas Manhood Photography

Kimberley Chambers asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007435043

Ebook Edition © June 2017 ISBN: 9780008263379

Version: 2017-05-08

In memory of all our brave soldiers who have lost their lives in action including my own grandfather “Gunner Thomas Henry Caunter”

If you trap the moment before it’s ripe,

The tears of repentance you certainly wipe.

But if once you let the ripe moment go,

You can never wipe off the tears of woe.

William Blake

Contents

Title Page KIMBERLEY CHAMBERS The Trap

Copyright Copyright Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd The News Building 1 London Bridge Street London, SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2013 Copyright © Kimberley Chambers 2013 Cover layout design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2017 Cover photographs © Silas Manhood Photography Kimberley Chambers asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780007435043 Ebook Edition © June 2017 ISBN: 9780008263379 Version: 2017-05-08

Dedication In memory of all our brave soldiers who have lost their lives in action including my own grandfather “Gunner Thomas Henry Caunter”

Epigraph If you trap the moment before it’s ripe, The tears of repentance you certainly wipe. But if once you let the ripe moment go, You can never wipe off the tears of woe. William Blake

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also by Kimberley Chambers

About the Publisher

Unable to make himself heard above Sandie Shaw belting out ‘Long Live Love’, Donald Walker made his way over to the Wurlitzer jukebox and turned down the volume.

‘Don’t do that! You know I like Sandie,’ Mary Walker said, as though she knew the singer personally.

‘There’s somebody knocking at the door,’ Donald informed his wife.

Mary walked over to the door and unbolted it. She was greeted by a sturdy-looking woman standing there in a dark-grey overcoat. At a guess, Mary thought she was probably in her mid fifties, but it was hard to be sure because of the curlers and hairnet on her head. ‘Hello. Can I help you?’ Mary asked, politely.

‘No, but I can help you,’ the woman replied, barging her way past Mary and into the premises.

Donald and Mary knew very little about the East End or its natives. They were North Londoners, having lived in Stoke Newington for many years, but this café in Whitechapel had been far too cheap to turn down, which is why they had decided to up sticks and move.

‘Hello, I’m Donald and this is my wife, Mary. As you have probably already realized, we are the new owners of the café. We officially open for business tomorrow but would you like a cup of tea or coffee?’ Donald asked.

Shaking her head, the woman held out her right hand. ‘I’m Freda. Freda Smart. I live just around the corner.’

‘And how can you help us?’ Mary enquired. She had a feeling that Freda was about to ask for a job, but there was no chance of that as she and Donald had spent every penny they had refurbishing the rundown café and were in no position to employ staff just yet.

‘I can help you by telling you why this café has been empty for eighteen long months before you bought it and why you probably got it for peanuts,’ Freda spat.

Mary gave her husband a worried glance. This café had been half the cost of any others they had looked at and the only one in their meagre price-range. But this woman seemed unhinged somehow and Mary wondered if she perhaps held a grudge against the previous owner.

‘Would you like a glass of water?’ Donald asked. He had noticed that the woman’s forehead had beads of sweat forming which had now started to drip onto one of his brand-new melamine tables.

‘No, don’t want nuffink. Just come to let you know the score. No-one else round ’ere will tell you. They’re all too bleedin’ well frightened of ’em, but I ain’t.’

‘Frightened of who?’ Mary asked, perplexed.

‘Frightened of the Butlers. They own that snooker club just around the corner. Old Jack who used to own this café, they killed his son, Peter. Broke his wife Ethel’s heart it did and if you don’t abide by their rules, they’ll rip the heart out of your family too. I saw you move in. You got two little kids, ain’t ya? Well, if you just do as I say, you’ll be OK. Albie’s the dad. He’s a piss-head, a proper waster. The mother is the brains of the family. Hard-looking old cow called Queenie. Her sister is Vivvy, she has a mongol son, and Queenie’s kids are Vinny, who is the worst out the bunch, Roy, Michael, and young Brenda. When they come in here, look after ’em. Serve ’em before any other customers and don’t charge ’em for food or drinks, you get me?’