Tainted Love: A gripping thriller with a shocking twist from the No 1 bestseller

‘Mummy, will Michael be coming to see us when the plane lands?’

Bella stroked the hair of her pride and joy. Antonio would be five soon and he was a wonderful child. Polite and intelligent, her son had everybody he met eating out the palm of his hand. Apart from his dark hair and piercing green eyes, he was thankfully nothing like his father.

‘Rupert’s picking us up from the airport, darling. Mummy has lots of work to catch up on,’ Bella explained, referring to her gay PA. Rupert had been running her modelling agency while she’d been skulking in Italy.

‘Will Michael be waiting for us in Chelsea when we get home?’ Antonio persisted.

Bella forced a smile. ‘We’ll see Michael soon. Now go and spend some time with Nonna and Nonno. They’re going to miss you so very much.’

When Antonio skipped happily away, Bella felt that awful lurch in her stomach that she experienced so often these days. She loved Michael Butler with all her heart, but was dreading looking him in the eyes. Fate was a bastard at times, it really was.

‘Morning, Mum. You OK?’ Vinny Butler asked.

‘Not bad, love. Ava’s gonna play over at Susan’s with Destiny while we’re at the cemetery. We can pick her up before we go to lunch,’ Queenie informed her son.

Sneering, Vinny shook his head. ‘I ain’t having her going in Stinky Susan’s shithole. She’ll catch lice or something worse. She can come with us.’

‘She doesn’t want to come because she can’t bring Fred. You know what a little madam she is. Had the screaming abdabs earlier when I suggested the mutt stay at home.’

Vinny chuckled. Ava was a character all right, a real chip off the old block.

Hearing squeals of delight coming from the garden, Vinny looked out the window. Ava was running up and down the lawn and Fred was chasing her. The mutt had been a great addition to the family, the perfect distraction for the kid after her mother died. Ava rarely mentioned her mum at all these days. She was far too obsessed with Fred to miss Joanna.

‘The dog can come with us an’ all, Mum.’

‘We can’t take him over the cemetery, Vin. The little sod’s dug massive holes in my lawn. He’ll dig some poor bastard up over there.’

When Ava spotted her father watching her, she ran inside the house. Hands on hips, her Butler-green eyes sparking with anger, she announced, ‘Nanny said Fred can’t come with us, so I not going.’

Vinny picked his four-year old daughter up and tickled her until she begged him to stop. He hadn’t even known of her existence until a couple of years ago, had found out while he was in prison. He knew he spoilt her, but why shouldn’t he?

When Vinny told Ava the mutt could join them, Queenie scolded her son. ‘Why do you always give into her? She knows she can play you and that’s why she misbehaves. It’s me that cares for her most of the time, boy, and you’re making my job difficult. Sees you as the knight in shining armour and me as the wicked old witch.’

Vinny laughed. ‘I’ve been seen as worse, Mum. Far worse. And so have you.’

Hormonal teenagers, Daniel and Lee Butler nudged one another and giggled as Katy bent over to get the hash browns out of the oven. Daniel especially had been peeved when their father had announced that he’d employed a housekeeper to pop round every day to help out with the chores. Daniel had guessed part of her job would be keeping an eye on him and Lee. However, as soon as the boys had laid eyes on Katy they’d changed their tune.

Katy Spencer had straight blonde hair that reached her bum, brown eyes, and the longest legs Daniel had ever seen. At five foot nine, she towered over him and Lee. Both boys were besotted with her and although neither would admit it, Katy had been the focus of their first ever wank.

‘Who wanted sausage and who wanted bacon?’ Katy asked.

Putting his hand over his mouth to control his laughter, thirteen-year-old Daniel whispered in his fourteen-year-old brother’s ear. ‘She can have my sausage any time.’

When both boys laughed uncontrollably, Katy smirked and stirred the baked beans. She was well aware of the effect she had on Daniel and Lee, and found it highly amusing. She could hardly wait to see the look on their little faces when they were told she was going to be their new mother.

Michael Butler laid the flowers on his son’s grave. Adam was his youngest child, and had been such a loveable kid. He’d been killed last year, messing about with his brothers running across train tracks, got his foot caught. Adam’s little body had been chopped into pieces by the oncoming train, God rest his soul.

Michael glanced at his watch, then lit a cigarette. He’d wanted to sell his house to rid himself of the constant reminders of Adam, but Daniel and Lee had begged him not to. Rather than put his sons through any more trauma, Michael had taken the property off the market for the time being.

Spotting his mother and Vinny in the distance, Michael walked towards them. Today would’ve been his brother Roy’s thirty-ninth birthday, hence the meet.

Dressed in a long black coat, Queenie Butler linked arms with her strapping sons. Lots of people had stopped her in the street, praising her boys for getting Mr Arthur’s medals back, and Queenie was extremely proud of them. Vinny, her first-born, owned a gentleman’s club in Holborn, while the Whitechapel club that Vinny and Roy had purchased as teenagers now belonged solely to Michael.

‘You all right, Mum?’ Michael asked.

‘I’ve had better days, boy. But what can ya do? No bringing back the dead, is there?’

The Enemy put the hood up on his sweatshirt before he got on the train. He’d been away so long, he doubted anybody would recognize him, but it was better to be safe than sorry. One of the conditions of his early release was that he didn’t travel out of Dagenham. He was currently living in a hostel there, although the nice lady at the council had promised to try and find him a flat.

Happy memories of time spent with his dad and grandparents flooded his thoughts. He never allowed himself to think about his mother any more. She’d washed her hands of him when he’d done what he did, and the Enemy was glad. She was a slag and an embarrassment to him.

When the train stopped at Whitechapel station, he leapt off and walked towards the road where Queenie and Vivian lived. His nan had despised those pair and so did he, especially Queenie. It was she who’d raised the monsters who had ruined his life, and he would now repay her in full. See how she liked her nearest and dearest bumped off for no good fucking reason. Queenie Butler would suffer all right – he’d make damn sure of it.

As proud as a peacock, Queenie Butler strutted along Roman Road market with her sons either side of her. It was rare they accompanied her here, especially on a busy market day and she was aware of the dolly birds’ admiring glances. So handsome her boys were. Stood out in a crowd wherever they went.

‘Daddy, that nasty lady nearly stood on Fred,’ Ava squealed.

‘Carry the dog for her, Mum. Me and Michael can’t exactly walk about cuddling a lapdog, we have a reputation to uphold,’ Vinny chuckled.

When her sons were suddenly surrounded by a group of people wanting to chat with them and shake their hands, Queenie could’ve burst with pride. She’d raised her boys to be somebodies in life and they’d exceeded all her expectations. Feared and respected in equal measure, Vinny and Michael were now seen as kings of the East End. The only family who could even hold a candle to her boys were the Mitchells out of Canning Town, and they were Vinny and Michael’s friends.

‘Nanny, I want a poo-poo,’ Ava announced, tugging her grandmother’s arm.

Telling her boys she would meet them in five minutes outside Woolworths, Queenie led Ava towards the nearest toilets.

‘Is my daddy famous, Nan?’ Ava enquired innocently.

Queenie couldn’t help but smile. ‘Yes, darlin’. Your daddy is a legend.’

After indulging in pie and mash for lunch, Vinny Butler suggested they leave behind the hustle and bustle of the market, and instead have a drink in the Palm Tree.

‘Not been in this boozer since your loser of a father brought me ’ere when we were courting. It’s not changed much. Got a good old days feel about it,’ Queenie reminisced.

‘Roy brought Colleen here as well. The day he proposed down the Roman, they came here to celebrate afterwards. You heard from that slag lately?’

‘Don’t call her that, Vin. Colleen is a decent girl, that’s why your brother loved her. I know you think she moved on too fast, but it was Roy who ended things with her. She was brilliant, caring for him after the accident.’

Roy Butler had been shot in the head outside his club in the early seventies – hit by a bullet that had been meant for Vinny. When he finally awoke from his coma, he’d been told that he’d never walk again. For a respected man who’d lived to walk the walk and talk the talk, it was a crushing blow. Unable to cope with his disabilities, Roy had ended his own life in 1976 – by shooting himself in the head. He left behind one child, Emily Mae, who lived in Ireland.

Michael raised his glass. ‘To a top brother and a true legend.’

Vinny and Queenie chinked glasses. ‘To Roy,’ they said in unison.

Bella D’Angelo shut her eyes, thankful that Antonio was fast asleep at last. She badly needed some thinking time.

It had been nine years ago that she first set eyes on Michael Butler, back in the spring of 1977. She’d gone to the Carpenter’s Arms with a pal, and her first memory of the immaculately turned out man she would fall in love with was how much he looked like the pop star David Essex.

Their affair had been short and sweet, but so very passionate. Michael had admitted to Bella early on in their relationship that he was in love with her, but he’d still chosen to end things. He’d been married to Nancy at the time and had called it a day for the sake of his young sons.

Shortly after Michael broke up with her, Bella moved to New York to start afresh. Back then she’d been a catwalk queen herself, so there’d been no shortage of male admirers. Bella had dated many, but none had matched up to Michael. It was on one of her trips back to London that Bella had met Antonio’s father. She’d been in a club up town with a friend and had spotted a guy who had reminded her of Michael. He wasn’t quite as good looking, but had the same colour hair, green eyes and that same gruff East End accent.

A steamy sex session had followed in a hotel. Bella had been rather tipsy, and had totally let her hair down. It had been her idea to indulge in a bit of dirty role play. How ashamed she felt about that now.

‘You OK, Mummy?’

Bella opened her eyes and smiled at her beloved boy. She was anything but OK, had even toyed with staying in Italy for good. But she could not get Michael out of her mind. Nights were the worst. His handsome face would haunt her dreams and she’d wake up happy, until remembering the party and the smirking face of the bastard who’d fathered Angelo. No way could Michael ever find out what she’d done. It would totally destroy him.

Strolling confidently into the fishing-tackle shop, the Enemy headed straight for the counter. ‘I need a decent filleting knife, mate.’

The owner asked his age, then showed him half a dozen. ‘That one’s your best bet, but it’s expensive. Like most things in life, you pay for what you get.’

‘I’ll take it,’ he replied, taking a wad of notes out of his tracksuit pocket. He wasn’t short of dosh. He’d sold cannabis resin while inside, and was continuing to do so now he was out.

Fifteen minutes later, the Enemy was on a District Line train on his way back to Dagenham. He hoped his dad and granddad were looking down from heaven and were proud of him. That’s if his granddad was even in heaven, of course. Rumour had it, Vinny had put him in a cement mixer and he was now propping up the flyover along the A13. That’s what Billy Carver reckoned anyway.

Turning his thoughts to his purchase, the Enemy smirked. Fish were harmless and didn’t deserve to be filleted. As for the Butlers …

CHAPTER THREE

‘Morning, Queen. Silly-boy lemon’s strutting up and down the garden again with his holster and cowboy hat on.’

Queenie chuckled. She and her sister Vivian lived next door but one to each other, and the neighbours in between them were a proper pair of notrights. They were harmless enough though and provided Queenie and Viv with hours of entertainment.

‘Got a houseful today, Viv. Little Vinny’s coming, Michael’s bringing the boys, Vinny and Ava will be here – an’ he’s invited Jay Boy and Jilly.’

‘The more the merrier,’ Vivian replied. She actually wanted to add, bar one, but chose to hold her tongue. Her and Queenie had made a pact to stop dragging up the past and instead concentrate on the future.

‘Answer that for me, Viv.’

Vivian picked up the phone, had a short conversation, then returned to the kitchen. ‘It was Michael. Albie’s had a fall. He’s OK, but Michael didn’t want to leave him today, so I said it would be all right for him to come for dinner an’ all.’

Slamming her potato peeler on the kitchen counter, Queenie turned to her sister, eyes blazing with fury. ‘I don’t want that womanizing old tosspot round ’ere, thanks very much. You had no right to tell Michael he was welcome. It’s my bloody house and it’s gonna be overcrowded as it is.’

Vivian sighed with annoyance. Queenie and Albie had split up donkey’s years ago, yet still her sister wouldn’t let bygones be bygones. ‘Make me laugh, you do. Ain’t it about time you practised what you preach? If I can be adult enough to breathe the same air as that murdering bastard of a son of yours, why can’t you at least be polite to poor Albie?’

Seething, Queenie turned her back on her sister and took her anger out on the saucepans, banging them about like drums.

‘Well?’ Vivian spat. Lenny had been her only child. A wonderful, loving lad who’d never let his learning difficulties hamper his life. Unfortunately, Lenny’s life had been wiped out at the tender age of twenty thanks to Queenie’s eldest son. Not only had Vinny Butler taken her innocent boy to a knocking shop, he’d driven them home while out of his nut on drink and drugs and smashed the bastard car to smithereens. Vinny being Vinny, he’d walked away without a scratch, but her beloved son hadn’t been so lucky. Poor little sod had been virtually beheaded.

‘Me, make you laugh! Well, let me tell you a few home truths: you make me laugh twice as bleedin’ much. “Poor Albie” indeed! You hated the bastard when I was married to him. Called him every name under the sun. I’ve met some two-faced fuckers in my time, but you’re top of that list, Vivian Harris. Molly would still be alive if that disgusting old toad hadn’t stuck his John Thomas up Judy Preston’s snatch. Now piss off back to your own house. How dare you put that vile excuse of a man before me! Me and you are finished. You’re no sister of mine.’

Michael Butler had just got out the shower when he heard the front door slam.

‘It’s only me, Michael. I happened to be passing, so thought I’d pop in to see if you or the boys needed anything,’ Katy shouted out.

Michael gritted his teeth in annoyance. Sunday was Katy’s day off and he certainly hadn’t entrusted her with a key so she could come and go as she pleased. He dressed hurriedly and bounded down the stairs. ‘Pop up the shops for me, boys. I’m out of cigarettes. Tell Bob they’re for me.’

‘I’ll go if you want?’ Katy offered. She liked to make herself indispensable.

‘Nah, they’ll go,’ Michael replied, handing Lee a fiver.

Waiting until the boys were out of earshot, Michael asked, ‘So what you doing ’ere on a Sunday? It’s meant to be your day off.’

Not prepared to admit she’d missed Michael so much that she’d driven past purposely in hope his car would be there, Katy pretended she was on her way to visit a friend. ‘We’re going out for lunch,’ she added.

‘Same ’ere. I’m taking the boys out. Was meant to be going round my mother’s, until it all kicked off.’

‘Oh my God! What’s happened?’ gasped Katy, putting her hand over her mouth for full dramatic effect.

‘Oh, nothing major. My mum had a row with my aunt, that’s all. You best get off then. As soon as the boys come back, I’m making tracks.’

Katy drank a mouthful of tea, then stood up. ‘I might be popping to the club tonight with a friend. Please don’t worry, she doesn’t know about us.’

Wanting to yell ‘There is no fucking us!’ Michael instead nodded dumbly. Why was it men could separate love and sex yet women couldn’t?

Vinny Butler laughed as his grandson tried to chase Fred around the garden. He’d mastered the art of walking, but not running yet.

‘Oops-a-daisy,’ Queenie said, picking the child up.

Oliver Butler held his great-granny’s face in his tubby hands. ‘Foo, Nana, foo.’

‘He’s only asking for grub again. No wonder he weighs a ton, the cheeky monkey,’ Queenie chuckled. She was still livid about her sister’s betrayal and harsh words, but was determined not to let the argument spoil her day.

‘Give us him ’ere, Nan. I got a whiff of something nasty. It’s either him or you’ve had the accident,’ Little Vinny chuckled.

‘I’ll put arsenic in your dinner, you, if you carry on,’ Queenie joked. She was genuinely proud of the way her grandson had turned out. He’d been a horror as a child and a teenager, causing her no end of grief, but meeting Sammi-Lou and becoming a father had been the making of him.

Vinny Butler sat next to Sammi-Lou. ‘Not long until he makes an honest woman of you now, eh?’

As Sammi-Lou Allen excitedly chatted about her forthcoming wedding, Vinny listened with a wide grin on his face. His son had been an embarrassment to him as a youngster, especially when he’d gone through that skinhead stage and knocked about with that weirdo Ben Bloggs. Thankfully the lad had changed beyond recognition. He now worked with Vinny in the Holborn club and had proved himself to be an asset to the business, with an astute brain on him.

It was as well for Little Vinny that neither his father nor his grandmother had any idea that he’d done more than act up a bit and run wild during his teenage years. And there was no way Sammi-Lou would be happily making wedding plans if she knew she was marrying a child killer. And God help Little Vinny if his father ever found out that the three-year-old he’d throttled to death was his own little sister.

Michael and Albie Butler were in the Royal Oak.

‘Why didn’t the boys come with us?’ Albie asked.

‘I couldn’t drag ’em away from the pool table, so I left ’em a tenner for a pizza. Keeps ’em out of trouble, that cabin I had built.’

Albie smiled. ‘I’m so glad you ain’t moving out of Barking, boy. I never said it when you put the house up for sale, but I wouldn’t arf’ve missed ya.’

Michael squeezed his old man’s hand. Unlike Vinny, he’d always been close to his father. Now sixty-six, Albie’s once thick hair had thinned a bit over the years, but it was still jet black. He kept himself smart, always wearing a suit, and despite everything he’d been through he hadn’t lost the cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

‘How’s Bella, son? You spoken to her lately?’

‘No, I left her alone after she said she needed some space. She rung me last week, but I didn’t call her back. Done me up like a kipper, she did. Vinny said she wouldn’t return from Italy and he was right. I don’t even believe her nan was dying. She obviously just got cold fucking feet.’

‘You don’t know that for sure and you shouldn’t listen to your brother. You know what Vinny’s like. When has he ever been in love, eh? Do what your heart tells you. Bella adored you; I could see that the night of the party. You need to call her back, see what she wanted.’

‘Bit late now. Got meself in a right pickle, I have. The boys’ nanny turned up at the club one night about a month back. I’d had a drink, she had virtually no clothes on, and … well, you know the rest.’

‘Oh dear. Katy’s a bit young for you, isn’t she?’

‘Twenty-one. Becoming a proper pest, she is. Keeps turning up at the club, staring at me with those puppy-dog eyes. She’s got it bad, and I’m never gonna feel anything for her. After Bella, I doubt I’ll ever feel anything for a bird again. More grief than they’re fucking worth, women.’

‘Mind she don’t trap you like Judy Preston did me. Can’t you tell her that I’m gonna help you out indoors and you don’t need her any more?’

‘Not that easy, Dad. The boys adore her. It’s been good for them to have a woman pottering about the house again. I’m just going to have to let her down gently, and hope she still wants to work for me.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘My mistake, I let me dick do the thinking instead of me brain.’

Albie chuckled. ‘Like father, like son.’

Having given birth to three sons who’d made her so proud in life, Queenie was the first to admit her daughter was a terrible disappointment. Brenda had turned into an overweight lush and a crap mother, which was probably why Queenie had bonded so well with Jay Boy’s girlfriend. In Queenie’s eyes, Jilly was the daughter she’d never had.

‘Jilly wants your mum to give her away when we get wed,’ Jay Boy whispered in Vinny’s ear as they watched the two women chatting nineteen to the dozen in front of the telly.

Vinny looked at his pal in amazement. They had first met in Pentonville prison. They’d bonded immediately, and the chirpy Liverpudlian was now Vinny’s right-hand man at the club. ‘You’re kidding me. That will make my mum’s year.’

‘Straight up. Jilly’s dad is dead and she doesn’t get on with her own mum. She told me last night she wants your mum to do the honours.’

Vinny was about to tell his mum the good news when the doorbell rang and Queenie leapt up to answer it.

‘Daddy, Fred’s being rude. He’s got his dingle-dangle out again,’ Ava giggled, tugging her father’s arm.

Hearing a commotion in the hallway, Vinny ignored his daughter and dashed to his mother’s aid. ‘What’s up?’

‘Tell Vinny what you told me,’ Queenie ordered, ushering her daughter’s tearful children into the house.

‘Mum and Dave were drunk, and they were fighting. They smashed all the furniture up. Then Mum fell over when Dave hit her and we couldn’t wake her up. We were scared she was dead, so we ran to the phone box and called an ambulance. Then we got on the train and came here,’ eight-year-old Tommy explained.

‘Mum’s head was bleeding. We was worried the police would come and take us away,’ Tara added.

Vinny glanced at his mother. Both were thinking the same thing. Neither had any time for Brenda, but she was family. Flesh and blood counted for everything and so did keeping up appearances.

Michael Butler poured another Scotch and pressed play, then rewind, then play again on his answerphone. It was the message Bella had left him last week, and he’d listened to it over and over again.

He was trying to make up his mind whether to take his father’s advice and return the call when he was disturbed by a tap on his office door.

‘Katy’s here,’ said Gerry the bouncer, sticking his head round the door. ‘Said she needs to speak to you about Daniel and Lee.’

‘OK, send her in.’

The club was booming to the sound of Page Three bird Samantha Fox’s ‘Touch Me (I Want Your Body)’ as Katy walked in. Michael had no doubt that she wanted him to touch hers again. She was virtually fucking naked. ‘Where’s your mate?’ he asked.

‘She wasn’t well, so I came alone,’ Katy lied.

Well on his way to being slightly more than merry, Michael couldn’t help but take note of Katy’s pert breasts.

Aware of what the man of her dreams was staring at, Katy felt her confidence soar. ‘Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?’ she asked, sitting on his lap and rubbing his thigh.

Michael sighed as his erection grew. What was a man to do?

Unaware that their father was currently in an extremely compromising position with Katy Spencer, Daniel and Lee Butler were currently discussing what they would like to do to certain parts of her anatomy.