Free The Trap by Kimberley Chambers Page B

comeuppance in the not-too-distant future. Nobody threatens my sister and gets away with it and I mean that with all my fucking heart.’
    Albie Butler felt almost suicidal. Not only did he have two broken legs and three broken ribs, he was now homeless, and had a wife and a pregnant ex-girlfriend who both hated him with a passion.
    ‘Hitler in a German tank, parlez vous. Hitler in a German tank, parlez vous. Hitler in a German tank, reading the Beano and having a wank. Inky pinky parlez vous,’ sang old Mr Perry in the next bed.
    Albie put his bruised head in his hands. Old Mr Perry had done nothing but sing war songs all day and if his legs hadn’t been in traction, Albie would have leapt out of the bed and throttled him by his scrawny neck.
    ‘Dad.’
    Albie looked up and was thrilled to see Roy and Michael standing there. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you, boys. That old goat in the next bed has been doing my bleedin’ head in all day. You ain’t bought your old dad a bottle of brandy by any chance?’ Albie said, directing the question towards his youngest son. Unlike that sadistic bastard Vinny, Michael was a good kid and had visited him every day with an alcoholic gift. They say you shouldn’t have a favourite son, but Michael had always been Albie’s. They had a special bond between them, which Albie had never experienced with Roy or Vinny.
    For the first time in his life, Michael looked at his father with hatred in his eyes. Learning his dad had betrayed his mum in such an awful manner had been like having a light switched on in his brain, and he now saw his father just as his brothers did. ‘All we’ve bought you is your clothes from Mum’s house. They’re in two binliners and we gave them to the nurse. I never thought I would hear myself say this, but you are fucking scum, Dad, and I no longer consider myself to be your son.’
    ‘Yee-haw,’ old Mr Perry shouted with glee.
    Roy looked at his brother in astonishment. Michael had always been the soft-as-shit pleasant one out of the three of them, yet within two days of working with him and Vinny, he seemed to have grown bollocks and turned from a boy into a man.
    ‘And don’t you ever contact us or our mum again,’ Roy threatened, waving a finger in the direction of his father’s shocked face.
    ‘Don’t go, boys. Please don’t go,’ Albie begged, near to tears.
    When Roy and Michael ignored their father’s plea and stomped out of the ward, old Mr Perry broke into song again. Vera Lynn’s ‘We’ll Meet Again’ was one of his all-time favourites.
    Over at the café, Mary and Shirley were singing along to Sonny and Cher’s ‘I Got You Babe’ as they buttered a loaf of bread between them. ‘Christ, I totally forgot to ask you how the kids got on at school. No more tears from Nancy, I hope?’ Shirley asked.
    Mary chuckled. ‘Nope, no more tears. Both of them absolutely loved their new schools and they’ve made friends already. Nancy has met a mate called Brenda and Christopher has palled up with a lad called Tommy.’
    ‘Ah, bless ’em. I wonder if Nancy’s mate is my friend Queenie’s daughter. Her name is Brenda and she’s about the same age as your Nancy.’
    Realizing that Shirley was referring to the Butler family, Mary stopped buttering her bread and turned to her employee. ‘I’ll have to ask Nancy what her friend’s surname is. What are they like, that Butler family? Queenie and her sister have been in here a couple of times and they seem nice enough. One of the sons came in as well. My Donald wasn’t happy because he gave our Christopher some money. Donald doesn’t like the children taking money off strangers, so he made Christopher give it back to him.’
    ‘Queenie and Vivian are diamonds, Mary. Both got lovely houses that are spotlessly clean and their doorsteps are gleaming. Young Brenda’s a good kid and so are the three boys. You don’t mess with them though, if you know what I mean? Especially the eldest lad,