The Family Man

Kimberley Chambers

• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN:
  9780008365998
• eBook ISBN:
  9780008366018
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Crime & Mystery Literature
• Index: Literature

The epic new thriller from the No.1 bestselling Queen of Gangland crime!

Kenny Bond. A murderer. A gangster. A good family man.

Meet the Bonds

Kenny Bond is finally out of prison after doing a long stretch for killing a copper, and is determined to get back to life on the straight and narrow.

A family like no other

Kenny's son Donny might lack his father's edge but his twin grandsons, Beau and Brett – well, they are Bonds through and through. Like him, they won't let anyone stand in their way.

But they're about to meet their match

Family comes before everything else for Kenny, but there's a feud brewing that could cause murder, and a new family on Dark Lane might bring the Bonds to their knees. Kenny's determined that nothing, and no one, will threaten his family. But can the Bonds stick together when someone's out to take them down?

The Bond family's story is just beginning…

Don't miss The Brothers, the gripping new novel from the Queen of Gangland Crime – available to pre-order now!

PART ONE

‘In family life, love is the oil that eases friction, the cement the binds closer together, and the music that brings harmony.’

Friedrich Nietzsche

PROLOGUE

I was born in 1943, in Stratford, East London. A war baby, I was my mother’s first child and would turn out to be her only.

I never had a dad, but I had lots of different uncles who’d visit. Some were nicer to me than others.

Then Uncle Pete turned up on the scene and, unlike all the others, he didn’t disappear. Quite the opposite, he moved in with us.

Even though I was only six, I could tell Uncle Pete couldn’t stand the sight of me. I tried to be a good boy, keep out of his way so I didn’t antagonize him. That didn’t stop the beatings though, especially if he’d been down the boozer. He’d just stroll into my bedroom and start on me for no valid reason.

One day, after being whipped on my bare arse with Uncle Pete’s leather belt, I caught two buses and managed to find my grandparents’ home in Canning Town. I was in agony, had to stand up throughout the journey as it was too bloody painful to sit down.

Me granddad went ballistic, shot straight out the house. My nan comforted me, bathed my sores and made me numerous cups of sweet tea.

I never lived with my mum again after that. I moved in with me nan and granddad. I was much happier there.

Life was good for a while. Nan and Granddad never seemed to be poor like a lot of people. Granddad didn’t have a normal job, but sometimes he’d come home with lots of money and give me some. I recall asking him how he earned his money once. I was about nine at the time and I’ll never forget his words to me. He looked me in the eyes and said, ‘Kenny, one day when you’re old enough, I’ll teach you all about my world. I promise.’ After that I was always intrigued about Granddad’s world. Sometimes he’d go missing for almost a week, but Nan never seemed too concerned when I asked if Granddad was OK. ‘Your Granddad’s fine, boy. He’s on a bit of work,’ she’d chuckle.

Tragedy struck first just after my tenth birthday. Nan went off to Rathbone Street market one day, came home complaining of terrible stomach pains, spent the night on the sofa, and me and Granddad woke up to find her dead the following morning.

Granddad was never the same after Nan’s death. He lost his sparkle, seemed to give up on life and earning money. He rarely ate and started hitting the whisky. Would sit in his favourite armchair and drink a whole bottle before lunchtime. So I was packed off to live with me mum’s sister, Aunt Nelly.

Aunt Nelly was nice, lived in Bow. She’d never married, had no kids, but she felt warmer to me than my real mum ever had. She would praise me, show me love by hugging me. Affection, I wasn’t used to that. Only my nan had ever hugged me in the past. Not once do I remember my own mother doing so. She never even stepped in when Uncle Pete smashed the living daylights out of me.

I was still worried about my granddad, would regularly visit him, urging him to teach me about his world, like he’d once promised to. Unfortunately, by that time he was unable to piece together a coherent sentence. I was gutted. Even as an eleven-year-old, I sensed Granddad’s world was destined to be a mystery to me, and that would always haunt me.

Then fate struck. Me grandfather got rushed into the London Hospital one day. It was Aunt Nelly who sat me down and wiped away my tears as she told me he was dying. His liver had packed up on him.

I begged Aunt Nelly to let me see Granddad one last time. She was reluctant, but even she could see I wasn’t exactly your average twelve-year-old boy by that point. Not after what I’d been through in life. I was a proper little man.

Granddad had the same colour eyes as me: a bright, piercing blue. As I greeted him, I saw his eyes light up like they used to for the first time in years. He grabbed my arm and clung to it. ‘Kenny,’ he croaked. ‘Nell, leave me and the boy alone for a minute,’ he added, even though he was struggling to breathe.

Aunt Nelly left the ward, then Granddad smiled. That cheeky smile that I remembered and hadn’t seen for ages. ‘I never told you how I stole a living, did I, boy?’

‘No. Please tell me. I’m old enough now,’ I pleaded.

Granddad held my hand, clasped it like he never wanted to let it go. ‘You are my prodigy, Kenny. I want you to carry on the Bond name.’

‘Go on, Granddad. I will, I swear. I owe you and Nan everything.’

‘Never be a dogsbody. Only work for yourself.’ Granddad paused to catch his breath. ‘You earn money any way you can. That’s what I did. Banks, security vans – I’ve held up lorries carrying quality loads. You never thieve off your average man on the street, though. House burglars are vermin. Ya never rob your own, either.’

‘Yeah. But how? I wouldn’t know where to start.’

‘You’ll find ways. You plan. Always be cautious. That’s why me and Nan were never poor like every other bastard. I walked the walk and talked the talk. You can be the next me, Kenny. I can see it in you. The right road is boring. The wrong road is much more fun.’

‘OK,’ I replied. Granddad was taking ages to get a sentence out now, but I got the gist of what he was saying, and I was desperate to make him proud and carry on the Bond name.

‘Marry a good woman like I did. But stay away from the booze. It’s the devil’s work, that. And never forget what I taught ya. The stories, the sayings, they’ve all got meanings, boy,’ Granddad panted. I could see he was finding it harder to breathe, his grip on my hand was loosening.

‘I will, Granddad. I promise I’ll do all you say.’

Seconds later, me grandfather shut his eyes and died right in front of me. He had a half-smile on his face that I’ll never forget.

Later that evening, I picked up a pen and pad and wrote down every single quote and saying I remembered Granddad telling me. It was only then I began to understand the meaning of life and what carrying on the Bond name truly meant …

CHAPTER ONE

Spring 1975

Kenny Bond lay on his bunk, hands behind his head, savouring the peace. Five whole days now he’d had the cell to himself and it was absolute bliss. It felt more like Butlins than Wormwood bloody Scrubs.

Glancing at the photo on the wall of his beloved wife and their kids, Kenny allowed himself a wry smile. Today was visiting day and not once had his Sharon ever let him down. She was his soulmate, and today he had something important to ask her.

Kenny’s daydreaming about what his wife’s reply would be was cut short by a jangling of keys, his cell being unlocked, then Perky’s fat face appearing.

‘Good morning, Bond,’ Perky said, a supercilious smile on his piggy chops. ‘Meet your new cellmate, Tamplin. Okey doke, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,’ he chuckled, before slamming the metal door and locking it.

Kenny eyed his new cellmate with suspicion. He always got lumped up with a wrong un, knew the governor ordered that purposely. Usually, it stood out like a sore thumb at first glance what was wrong with each and every one of them. He’d had a lovely combination of druggies, alkies, notrights and nonces. Not this geezer though. For once, he had a cellmate who looked half normal.

Tamplin grinned. ‘All right, Mush? What you in ’ere for then?’

Kenny sighed deeply. There was no mistaking that accent. A gypsy one.

Sharon Bond shuddered as she listened to the news. That serial rapist had struck in Cambridgeshire again. A twenty-two-year-old this time, the rapist’s sixth victim in six months. How she missed having Kenny at home with her. He’d always made her feel safe and secure since the night she’d first met him.

Sixteen, Sharon had been when she’d met Kenny. He was seventeen, but already a man in comparison to other lads who’d asked her on dates. Kenny was mature, good-looking, oozed confidence, and within a few dates, Sharon had fallen head over heels for him. Luckily for her, Kenny felt the same and the following year they got married.

Sharon turned the volume up on the radio. She adored Minnie Ripperton’s voice and the song ‘Lovin’ You’ was currently storming up the charts. The words were beautiful, could have been written for her and Kenny. As soon as the song finished, Sharon turned the radio off. She usually looked forward to her prison visits, but not today. She had something to tell her husband and it wasn’t good news. It was really bad.

Kenny Bond grinned as his blonde bombshell of a wife walked towards him. Shal was only five foot one, but whenever she visited him, she looked taller because she always wore high heels. She knew he got off on a pair of stilettos, had worn them in the bedroom while stark-bollock naked before he’d had the misfortune of getting a long stretch.

Kenny wrapped his arms around Sharon and kissed her. He could sense Percy was glaring at him, so gave him a cheeky wink as he pulled away. With her pretty face, cheeky smile, infectious laugh and personality, there wasn’t a single man in this joint that wouldn’t fancy his Shal, and no way did Percy have a woman indoors. The miserable bastard looked like he’d fallen out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down.

‘Tea and a Marathon?’ asked Sharon.

‘Yeah. Go on then. Don’t take those shoes off though. I wanna watch you walk in ’em.’

‘Three times I’ve nearly stacked it since I got out the car, Ken. Stilettos and flares seriously don’t work. No way am I falling arse over tit in front of your fellow inmates and the screws. I’ll be a bleedin’ laughing stock.’

Kenny chuckled. ‘Hurry up then. I got something important to ask ya, like I told you on the blower.’ He focused on her backside as she walked away. It looked almost edible in those jeans. Then again, she’d always had a great arse. Plump, with a bit of meat around it.

Sharon was filled with dread as she stood in the short queue. She wasn’t prepared to ruin the whole visit, knew Kenny would lose the plot, so she’d tell him the bad news towards the end.

Kenny stared at this wife’s breasts as she returned. Big and bouncy, especially in that skin-tight white T-shirt. They’d had such a good sex life on the outside, even when she was pregnant. That’s what kept him going at times. Reliving every moment they’d shared. The passion, the love, the togetherness.

‘What you grinning at?’ Sharon asked as she plonked the coffees on the table.

‘Your tits. What else?’ Kenny winked.

Sharon squeezed Kenny’s hand. ‘So, what’s this important thing you want to ask me?’

‘You remember that first night we met at that party in Canning Town? And your mate Sheila said, “You can’t date him. He’s got ginger hair and you don’t want ginger kids!”’ Kenny had planned this speech carefully, had too much time on his hands not to.

Sharon smiled. ‘Yeah. You told Sheila your hair weren’t bleedin’ ginger, it was a coppery bronze, and you weren’t hitting on me ’cause you preferred blondes.’ Sharon’s hair had been her natural colour at the time, a dullish brown.

‘Well, I was right, weren’t I, girl? We had a brown-haired son and a coppery bronze-haired daughter.’

‘Yeah. And?’

‘I want us to bang out another kid, Shal, when I get released. Aside from the fact I’ve missed watching Donny and Sherry grow up, I wanna see if the next one pops out ginger,’ chuckled Kenny. ‘We’re still gonna be young enough, ain’t we? Whaddya reckon?’

‘Erm, yeah. I don’t see why not.’ By the time Kenny was released, Sharon would be too old to want any more kids. But she didn’t want to rain on his parade.

‘Good girl,’ grinned Kenny. ‘That’ll be all I need to get through the rest of me sentence, that. I’m gonna need something to take me mind off things, ’cause I’ve been lumbered with a new cellmate today and he’s grating on me already. A fucking pikey they’ve forced on me this time! They know how much I hate ’em, and that accent is doing me nut in already. He keeps singing an’ all, the irritating prick. He’ll get a clump before long if he keeps it up, I’m telling ya.’

‘Don’t go to town on him, Ken. You don’t wanna get yourself put in solitary again. I couldn’t visit you the last time.’

‘I won’t. I’ll just give him a gentle dig. It’s the Old Bill telling Pinky to make my life a misery. Pinky’s right in with the filth.’ Kenny had nicknamed the governor Pinky and his least favourite screw Perky. The gov had a pinky-red complexion, probably because he was an alkie. You could smell it on his rancid breath. As for Perky, he had a little turned-up snout and looked ready to be chopped up in rashers.

‘Just try not to rile anyone up too much. I know what you’re bleedin’ well like.’

Kenny winked. ‘It’s me mum’s birthday on Thursday. She wrote to me the other day, probably just to remind me. Full of the joys of spring, as always.’ Kenny rolled his eyes. His mum still lived in Stratford and their relationship was a difficult one. The anger she obviously felt towards his dad, she tended to take out on him. She never had a good word to say about her only son. Or his father. She’d never disclosed his old man’s name, but bitched about him all the time, saying what a wrong...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Part One
• Part Two
• Part Three
• Epilogue
• Acknowledgements
• Keep Reading …
• About the Author
• Also by Kimberley Chambers
• About the Publisher