The Schemer
The Schemer
Kimberley Chambers
The heir to Martina Cole’s crown with a story of murder, the underworld, violence and treachery.It’s 1983 and Stephanie Crouch’s life is dull. She is desperate to escape the run-down, pokey council house she shares with her overbearing family, but at fourteen years old she has nowhere to go.When Stephanie meets East End wide-boy Barry, his cockney charm and quick tongue soon have her head over heels in love. Finally Stephanie feels like her dreary life is on the up. But too young to control their fate, Stephanie and Barry are torn apart when he is whisked away to Spain by his family.Lonely and heartbroken Stephanie turns to Barry’s childhood friend Wayne for comfort, and their friendship soon blossoms into romance, leaving Barry fuming and promising revenge…Ten years later Barry returns to England. Within one month Stephanie's happy world with Wayne is turned upside down. People immediately start to point the finger of accusation at Barry, but is he the one to blame?Or, should Stephanie look elsewhere to find the schemer who has ruined her life?
KIMBERLEY CHAMBERS
The Schemer
Copyright
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.
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
Copyright © Kimberley Chambers 2012
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
All rights reserved under International 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 ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, 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 ebooks
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication
Source ISBN: 9780007435012
Ebook Edition © April 2012 ISBN: 9780007435029
Version: 2017-11-17
In loving memory of
Helena Ann Lewis
1970–2011
‘Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another …’
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ‘The Adventure of the Speckled Band’
Table of Contents
Cover (#u954816bc-2e58-5638-a0d7-3841a8062f33)
Title Page (#u93c40eb0-dc1a-56cd-9d13-c243a43b497a)
Copyright (#u3c94af47-f0a4-5ad0-bd2b-597cce7487a0)
Dedication (#u4222f483-d19f-5642-9d5f-1aa717e3955f)
Epigraph (#u9bf89a35-68ac-530b-a3ec-78fcdcd6b692)
Prologue (#u05c72283-953a-5036-8421-6b92480ca73f)
Chapter One (#u6e1d4d4d-d4d0-5386-971f-e5633ec568ce)
Chapter Two (#u01800ab5-f21e-574a-91ae-364a1d878ac4)
Chapter Three (#ua314a00e-7086-51bb-8faa-e02f073b8fc0)
Chapter Four (#ud7e980fa-6cd1-5c4b-b5e2-6b1f03a853e7)
Chapter Five (#u09a87129-bf0b-5ebd-aa4a-cace7278ba6a)
Chapter Six (#u25be523d-f880-5399-9430-91783d4d0e57)
Chapter Seven (#u50da68e5-3fbc-5029-8c3d-9ba53b462681)
Chapter Eight (#uaa424e0a-beeb-5bc1-82e5-8aaeb37d314f)
Chapter Nine (#u178072f9-20c2-5af7-be20-09e87d3e1a4d)
Chapter Ten (#u2013e36f-e088-57b6-8da9-74c6dcd0f9eb)
Chapter Eleven (#u1392cb00-b70c-5724-9b3e-72952520a5d8)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo)
Read on for an extract from Kimberley’s next book: The Trap (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by Kimberley Chambers (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
The woman sat on the deck sipping a glass of vintage champagne. The weather was glorious and the heavenly smell of the ocean always had a calming effect on her. As the man reappeared, the woman smiled at him lovingly. Usually when they sailed their boat, they brought friends along with them, but today the man had insisted they sail alone. ‘I wanted it to be just the two of us for once; that’s why I never told you we were going out on the boat until this morning. I wanted to surprise you and spoil you rotten.’
And surprised and spoilt rotten the woman had been. Mussels in garlic butter, salmon en croûte, strawberries and cream were all prepared and served up for her by her wonderful man. She had a surprise for him also and, as soon as he sat back down, she would tell him what she had been dying to tell him for weeks.
‘Come over ’ere, babe, and look at this,’ the man said, gesticulating for the woman to join him.
The woman walked over to the right-hand side of the boat and put her arms around the man’s toned, suntanned waist. ‘I can’t see nothing. What am I meant to be looking at?’ she asked, rather bemused.
Knowing it was now or never, the man forcefully grabbed the woman by the shoulders, and swung her around so that her back was positioned against the gunwale. ‘I’m sorry, but me and you are over. I don’t love you any more and I’m going back to England.’
‘Stop mucking about. You’re not funny,’ the woman said, with a hint of panic in her voice.
‘I ain’t fucking mucking about,’ the man replied, as he put one hand around the woman’s throat and used his other to lift her up by the crotch.
‘Please God no! Why would you want to do this to me? Why?’ the woman screamed, as her feet left the safety of the deck.
‘Because you know too much about me,’ the man replied, his face devoid of emotion. With one last movement, he threw her to the mercy of the sharks. The last words he heard her scream were, ‘I’m pregnant.’ Putting his hands over his ears so he didn’t have to listen to anything else she might yell out, the man then calmly returned to the helm.
CHAPTER ONE
1983
Stephanie Crouch’s stomach was full of butterflies as she marched up Dagenham Heathway hill towards the train station. It had taken her ages to decide what to wear, but she was happy with her choice of denim pedal-pushers, a Flashdance-inspired ripped grey sweatshirt and gold pump ballet shoes. Not only did she look trendy, but felt comfortable as well.
‘Hurry up, Tam. You’re walking as fast as a tortoise,’ Stephanie complained to her best friend.
Tammy Andrews stopped dead in her tracks. The stereo system she was carrying on her shoulder had all but broken her back. ‘Sod you, Steph. You can carry it the rest of the way yourself. I ain’t one of them donkeys, you know.’
Laughing, Steph handed her pal the carrier bag of goodies they’d purchased earlier and relieved her of her burden.
‘Why did you drag us up ’ere so early anyway? You know he don’t get back till about six and it’s only half four. We should have drank our cider in the park and then come up ’ere. My mum will kill me if anyone she knows catches me drinking and smoking.’
Ignoring her friend’s concerns, Stephanie stood outside the station and planned her next move. She knew that Wayne Jackman went to every West Ham home game and she knew he arrived back at Dagenham Heathway at approximately six o’clock. ‘I don’t want him to think we’re waiting for him, so I think we should sit opposite the station. He lives in Digby Gardens, so he’s bound to cross the road,’ Steph said, confidently.
Unlike Stephanie, Tammy was no fan of Wayne Jackman, the school heart-throb. Wayne, who was usually referred to as Jacko, was in the year above them at Dagenham Priory. Although Tammy had never spoken to him on a one-to-one basis, she’d seen and heard enough about him to know that he was bad news. He might be breathtakingly good looking with his blond hair and piercing blue eyes, but he was also flash, blatantly loved himself and had a reputation of being a bit of a bully.
Holding the stereo system between them, the girls strolled across the pedestrian crossing, sat down on the pavement outside a shop and delved into their bag of goodies. Neither came from wealthy families, so the three pounds they both received as pocket money every week was pooled together at the weekend to ensure they had a good time. Strongbow cider, twenty Embassy Number One, two packets of Hubba Bubba bubble gum, chips and magazines was all they ever treated themselves to.
Stephanie pressed the play button on the stereo and ignored the disapproving looks of passers-by as the music blared out of the speakers.
‘I hate this shit music,’ Tammy complained.
Stephanie laughed. Whereas she was deemed very attractive, Tammy was classed as the opposite. Fairly plump with reddish-gingery hair, most of the lads at school took the piss out of Tammy. Her nickname was Tampax or ginger minge, but Stephanie adored her best friend. In Steph’s eyes, she was beautiful, loving and extremely funny.
Singing at the top of her voice to New Edition’s ‘Candy Girl’ Steph handed her friend the fags and matches while she opened a bottle of cider.
‘I bought a tape with me with “Baby Jane” on it. Can’t we put that on, Steph?’
Stephanie shook her head vehemently. Wayne Jackman was a casual and was always dressed in designer tracksuits. He even owned a real Burberry jacket and he certainly wouldn’t be impressed if he walked out of the station and heard the dulcet tones of Rod Stewart blaring out.
‘You can put “Baby Jane” on when he’s gone. Casuals like soul music, Tam, and I don’t wanna put him off me.’
Tammy sighed. Ever since Wayne Jackman had last week wolf-whistled at Stephanie in the alleyway that led from the upper to the lower school, Steph had spoken of little else. ‘Why don’t you just ask him out? I’ll do it for you if you like,’ Tammy suggested.
Stephanie immediately shook her head. ‘No! I’m gonna wait for him to ask me out.’
‘Hide that cider, quick. One of my mum’s mates is crossing the road,’ Tammy hissed.
Stephanie put the cider back in the carrier bag, turned around and checked her hair in the reflection of the shop window. She’d recently grown her hair long and had begged her mum to let her have one of the shaggy perms that were currently all the rage. ‘No. We can’t afford it and you’re far too young to be putting silly substances on your hair. Don’t wanna go bald before you’re twenty, do you?’ her mum had told her yet again this morning.
Annoyed at not being allowed to have the perm she craved, Stephanie had created her own shaggy look. Instead of blow-drying her hair straight like she usually did, Steph had towel-dried it so it looked as if as if she’d just got out of bed, then plastered it with lacquer to make it stand on end.
‘I hope Wayne likes my hair like this. Do you reckon he’ll like it? Or do you think he’ll prefer it the other way?’
Turning her head so that her mum’s friend wouldn’t stop for a chat, Tammy glared at her friend. ‘You’re really doing my head in now, Steph. Light me a snout and give me a bottle of that cider. If I don’t chill out, I’m gonna scream.’
Pamela Crouch picked up the cloth, squeezed the excess water back into the bucket, then proudly set to work on cleaning her front door. Unlike some of her frowsy neighbours, Pam had been born and bred in the East End of London, where pride in the cleanliness of one’s abode was of the utmost importance. Dagenham was different. People’s standards here were lower than in good old Mile End.
Thinking of her dear old mum’s strict values, Pam smiled sadly. It would be a year next week since the cancer had so cruelly taken her wonderful mother away from her, and Pam still thought about her each and every day.
‘Pam, the old slapper’s on her way home. Got a big black man with her today she has.’
Pam dropped her cloth and ran over to the garden fence to greet her next-door neighbour, Cathy. Like herself, Cathy was originally from the East End and, over the ten years they’d been neighbours, their friendship had grown from strength to strength. ‘I can’t see her,’ she said, looking from left to right.
‘She was in Sainsbury’s. You should of seen the trolley-load of drink she had. The black man was definitely with her, I saw him put his hand on her arse. She must be on her way home with the booze. Where else would she take it?’
Pam shook her head in disgust. Ever since the old slapper had recently moved into the house opposite, she had been her and Cath’s main topic of conversation. Marlene was her name, and the only other bit of information they could find out about her was that she’d lived in Bethnal Green before moving to Dagenham. It wasn’t just the number of men Pam and Cath had seen visit the house that had earned Marlene her nickname. It was the over-the-top way she dressed, her snooty, up-her-own-arse attitude, her pregnant fifteen-year-old daughter, and the fact that she had old bits of sheet hanging in her windows rather than proper curtains.
‘Ere she comes, look. I can’t believe she’s got the front to walk about dressed like a film star, yet she’s got rotten old sheets for curtains. Talk about all fur coat and no knickers,’ Cathy said, bluntly.
Pam surreptitiously glanced at Marlene and the black man. ‘I bet he’s a Ford worker. Probably got some poor unsuspecting wife tucked away somewhere,’ she whispered.
Cathy’s lip curled up. Her old man had got one of the barmaids in East Ham Working Man’s Club pregnant, hence their messy divorce. Clocking the hatred towards Marlene on Cathy’s face, Pam linked arms with her. ‘Come on, let’s go indoors and have a nice cuppa, shall we? I’ve got some cream cakes if you fancy one?’
‘Let me pop in mine and sort my Michael’s dinner out first. I’ll give you a knock in about a half-hour or so,’ Cath replied.
Pam shut the front door, made a pot of tea and plonked herself down on the armchair to rest her tired legs. She was only thirty-five, but life hadn’t been kind to her and she sometimes felt twenty years older. At five foot one, Pam had always had an enormous appetite and had never been the slimmest of women, but since her husband had died, she’d gorged day and night just for comfort. Bringing up two daughters alone wasn’t easy, and even though she now had a job in a bakery, money was still scarce. David’s death had been a terrible shock at the time. He’d only been working as a steel erector for a month, when the police had knocked on Pam’s door and informed her of his accident. She’d dashed straight up the hospital, but after falling from thirty foot of scaffolding, David had never regained consciousness. Her daughters Stephanie and Angela had both adored their father, and telling them the awful news was the most difficult thing Pam had ever had to do. Thankfully, at four and three years old respectively, the girls had been far too young to understand the enormity of what had happened and had just accepted the news of David’s death as children that age tend to do.
Glancing at the picture of her mum on the mantelpiece, Pam sighed. Her wonderful mother, Ada, was the only person who had truly helped her cope after David’s death. A matriarch East Ender, she had sort of taken over in her own way, and had been there for Pam and the kids whenever she’d been called upon. Losing her mum to cancer was horrendous for Pam. Her dad, Arnold, was still alive, but he was a simple man who had no idea how to cope with Linda’s wants and needs. Linda was Pam’s only sister and had sadly been born with dwarfism. Under the circumstances, Linda had led life to the full. She had attended mainstream schools, had always worked, and had much more of a social life than Pam had herself. However, her mum had always worried about Linda’s welfare and had made Pam promise that if anything happened to her, she would look after her younger sister. A woman of her word, Pam had stuck to her promise. She had turfed Angela out of her bedroom and made her share with Steph, then Linda had moved into Angela’s old room. Her daughters weren’t happy about the sharing situation. They’d always got on fairly well as young children, but now they argued like cat and dog.
Pam was jolted back to reality by the arrival of her youngest daughter.
‘Where’s my shiny black leggings, Mum? Did you get ’em dry for me?’
Pam felt awful as she leapt out of the armchair. She had totally forgotten to wash the leggings and, unlike Steph who was little trouble at all, Angie was a demanding little cow at times. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, love. I’ve been so busy all day, it slipped my mind. Shall I rinse ’em through now for you?
Angela Crouch looked at her mother in complete and utter disbelief. One thing she had asked her to do, one small thing, and she couldn’t even manage that. ‘Don’t bother! I’ll have to wear them dirty. I bet if Steph had asked you to wash her leggings, you wouldn’t have forgotten, would you?’
‘Yes, I would have! Why don’t you wear your white ones I bought you down the Sunday market?’ Pam asked, with an apologetic tone to her voice.
‘Because they ain’t black and they ain’t shiny Lycra. This is the most important night of my life, Mum, and thanks to you it’s ruined now.’ Angela stomped out the room. In her eyes, her Miss Goody Two Shoes of a sister was the apple of her mother’s eye. Steph was the well-behaved, clever one who got great school reports. For years Angie had had to listen to her mum bigging Steph up to anyone who would care to listen, while the only mention she ever got was for underachieving or misbehaving.
Feeling second best did not suit Angela one little bit and it had made her harbour a secret hatred for her sister. She longed for Steph to slip up and dash her mother’s dreams of grandeur. That would be hilarious.
Slamming her bedroom door, Angela walked over to her sister’s bed. Unlike Angela, who had posters of her favourite popstars on the wall that her headboard rested against, Stephanie had a photo of herself and their deceased father. Angie stared at it, then casually took her nail scissors out of her make-up bag. She snipped the string and smiled as she heard the sound of breaking glass.
Stephanie Crouch felt her body shaking with pure lust as Wayne Jackman stood outside Dagenham Heathway Station chatting to some pals. Dressed in a striking blue Fila tracksuit and white Adidas trainers, Wayne looked the absolute nuts, and Steph was aware of the glances he was attracting from other girls.
‘Don’t his hair look cool? I think he’s got Brylcreem or something on it today. It don’t look as blond as it does in school, does it? Do you reckon he’s dyed it? Or, do you reckon it’s the product he’s used that’s making it look darker?’
Bored shitless, and positive that Wayne didn’t bathe and his hair was just greasy, Tammy Andrews ignored her friend’s stupid questions and turned the volume on the stereo up.
‘Quick, he’s coming. Rewind it to Shalamar “A Night to Remember” while I light the snout up,’ Steph said, with a hint of panic in her voice. She needed Wayne to see her drinking and smoking, otherwise he might just see her as some silly schoolgirl.
Tammy watched in amazement as Wayne and his two mates crossed the road and sauntered past her and Angela as though they didn’t exist. ‘Well, say something then. He ain’t gonna notice you if you sit there like a tailor’s dummy, is he?’ she spat at Steph.
Overcome by nerves, Steph had all but lost her voice. ‘I can’t think of nothing to say,’ she croaked, her mind completely blank.
Furious that they’d wasted hours dossing about up the Heathway when they could have been having a laugh with the lads over the park, Tammy stood up. ‘Oi, Jacko,’ she shouted out.
‘Stop it! What you doing?’ Steph squirmed, pulling at her friend’s sleeve.
‘Whaddya want?’ Wayne asked, as he casually approached Tammy with his hands dug deep in his tracksuit pockets. His best pals, Mark Potter and Chris Cook, stood beside Wayne like two bodyguards.
‘We wondered if yous wanted to meet us over the park tonight. There’s a party over there and loads of us are going. We’re all gonna get smashed, ain’t we, Steph?’ Tammy said, trying to sound cool.
‘It all depends if you’re gonna let us have a feel around that ginger minge of yours,’ Mark Potter said, chuckling.
‘You don’t wanna feel round there. They don’t call her Tampax for nothing, you know,’ Chris Cook chipped in.
‘You’re such a wanker, Cooksie,’ Wayne said, laughing. None of the lads called one another by their first names. Jacko, Potter and Cooksie sounded far more hip than Wayne, Mark and Chris.
When Wayne knelt down beside her, Stephanie’s face reddened to a similar colour as Tammy’s hair.
‘Gonna offer me some of that cider, sexy?’ he asked.
Hands shaking, Steph passed him the bottle she was holding.
‘Gissa fag. Potter will have one an’ all,’ Cooksie said to Tammy.
Annoyed at the way the boys had taken the piss out of her, Tammy shook her head. ‘We’ve only got six left and they’ve gotta last us all night,’ she replied, haughtily.
‘We’ve only got six left and they’ve got to last us all night,’ Cooksie chanted, mimicking Tammy’s voice.
Ignoring his pal’s laughter, Wayne winked at Steph. He could tell how much she fancied him. He had the same effect on most girls, and he loved playing on his attractiveness and winding them up. ‘So, why did you really call us over here? Did you wanna ask me something?’ Wayne asked, staring at Steph intently with his piercing blue eyes.
Feeling as though she was about to faint, Steph shook her head frantically. Letting Wayne know that she fancied him was totally out of the question, so she had no option other than to lie. ‘Tammy wanted to call you over. She fancies Potter,’ Steph blurted out.
‘You lying cow! I heard that and I do not fancy Potter. The reason we called you over is because Steph’s got the hots for you, Jacko. Been doing my head in ever since you whistled at her in the alley. All I hear is Wayne this and Wayne that, so on Steph’s behalf, will you go out with her?’
When Potter and Cooksie burst out laughing, Stephanie hung her head in shame. She’d experienced some embarrassing times in her life, none more so than when she’d fallen off the stage dressed as Rizzo out of Grease during her school play, but this beat that cringeworthy moment hands down.
Wayne chuckled. He could sense Stephanie’s humiliation and was rather enjoying the enormous effect he was having on her. ‘So, you wanna go out with me?’ he asked, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
Stephanie shrugged. ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ she replied, in almost a whisper.
Wayne grinned at Potter and Cooksie, then turned his attention back to Steph. ‘Ask me properly and I’ll see what I can do for you.’
Stephanie glanced at Tammy. This was all her bloody fault. ‘Will you go out with me?’ she mumbled, unable to look Wayne in the eye.
‘Sorry, still can’t hear you properly,’ he replied, cockily.
Knowing it was shit-or-bust time, Steph decided to stand up and brave it. Wayne must fancy her as much as she fancied him, else why would he want her to ask him out in the first place? ‘Will you go out with me, Jacko?’ she asked, boldly.
Wayne ran his hand through his trendy wedge haircut and smirked at his pals. ‘I can’t I’m afraid, darling. I’ve already got a bird and I’ve gotta dash now as I’m gonna be late meeting her. See you around, Steph.’
When Potter and Cooksie burst out laughing, Steph’s eyes filled up with tears. Wayne Jackman had made her look a complete and utter idiot and she knew she’d be a laughing stock at school on Monday morning.
As the lads walked away in high spirits, Tammy tried to hug her best friend. ‘Jacko’s an arsehole, you’re worth a hundred of him, Steph,’ she said, truthfully.
Feeling both furious and degraded, Steph violently pushed Tammy away. ‘This is all your fault. If you hadn’t opened your big mouth, none of this would have happened. I hate you Tammy Andrews, and I never want to see you again.’
Bursting into a flood of uncontrollable tears, Stephanie picked up her purse and ran off as fast as she could.
With little money left every week out of their wages, Pam and Cathy did virtually all their socializing indoors. Neither women were big drinkers, but most Saturday nights they liked to share a bottle of Liebfraumilch between them. Sunday was the only day that neither woman worked, so it was nice to let their hair down a bit.
‘How’s the café been this week? Busy?’ Pam asked her friend.
‘Yeah, not bad. We keep attracting a crowd of school-kids though. The little sods are bunking off from the Priory, I think. Bleedin’ nuisance they are.’
Pam chuckled. Cathy worked in a café in Broad Street Market, which was only a spit’s throw from their homes in Manning Road.
‘What about you? How’s the eating-in idea working out?’ Cath asked, as she opened the bottle of wine.
Pam worked in a bakery in Dagenham East that had recently expanded and started an eating-in service.
‘It’s really begun to take off now. We’ve even started selling cooked breakfasts and jacket potatoes,’ Pam said, excitedly. She was hoping the extra business would give her a much-needed pay rise.
‘Quick, come ’ere. There’s a blue van just pulled up outside the old slapper’s with an old boy and a young fella in it,’ Cath exclaimed.
‘Someone’s moving in by the looks of that mattress. I saw the black man leave about half an hour ago. Surely she ain’t got another victim already?’ Pam said, laughing.
‘Well, it can’t be the young one, he’s younger than my Michael. She’s gotta be moving the old boy in, surely?’ Cath said, bemused.
‘How is your Michael? I ain’t seen him for ages. Still loved-up, is he?’
Unable to take her eyes away from the window in case she missed anything worth noting, Cath nodded her head. Her eldest son, Pete, had recently got married, and now it looked as though her youngest was about to fly the nest too.
‘Only comes home to bring his washing back and stuff his face now. She’s a nice girl, that Jane he’s with, but I wish she didn’t already have a kid. I reckon he’ll move in with her soon, but I do worry about him, Pam. I mean, taking on another man’s child ain’t ideal, is it? And I’ve just found out the father of the kid is in prison. It’s times like this I rue the day I moved to Dagenham, mate. If I had put me foot down with that philandering bastard of a husband of mine and insisted on staying in Poplar, my Michael wouldn’t have even met this bleedin’ bird.’
Pam nodded understandingly. Both her and Cathy’s husbands had been born and bred in Barking, which was why they had ended up with council houses under Barking and Dagenham council. In Pam’s case, her David had insisted Dagenham was a nicer area to raise children than the East End, but Pam had never been truly happy living there. She missed the old estate she had lived on and her frequent trips to Roman Road market. The pie-and-mash shops in Dagenham were rotten, in Pam’s opinion, and not a patch on Kelly’s up the Roman.
‘Your Steph’s home, looks upset she does,’ Cathy warned her friend.
Pam ran out into the hallway to greet her eldest daughter. It was very unusual for Steph to arrive home before her weekend ten o’clock curfew, so she knew something must be wrong. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ she asked, clocking her daughter’s tear-stained face.
‘Nothing. Leave me alone,’ Steph replied, trying to duck past her mother so she could run up the stairs.
Petrified that her daughter had been attacked, or even worse, Pam grabbed hold of Stephanie’s shoulders. ‘You ain’t going nowhere, young lady, until you tell me what’s happened. Has someone touched you?’
Collapsing into Pam’s arms, Steph cried more tears than she’d ever cried before.
Unaware of the drama that was currently going on downstairs, Angela Crouch had got over her earlier sulk and was now thoroughly looking forward to her big night out. Unlike her sister, Steph, Angie had been into boys from a very young age. At ten, she’d had her very first French kiss and at twelve she had let Gary Ratcliffe tit her up, the Dagenham term for touching someone’s breasts. However, even though she’d had plenty of boyfriends, Angie had never been in love before, not until now, anyway.
Turning the music up to Kool and the Gang’s ‘Get Down On It’, Angela stood in front of the mirror singing into her hairbrush. Even though both she and her sister had always been called pretty, Angela knew she knocked spots off Steph in that department. Angie was twenty months younger than her sister and shorter in height, but knew she looked older. ‘Get down on it, suck my helmet,’ Angie sang, flicking her hair over her shoulders seductively. Her new boyfriend had taught her the rude lyrics to the song and Angie thought they were hilarious. Glancing at the Swatch watch her mum had recently bought her for her thirteenth birthday, Angie took the needle off the record. She’d arranged to meet her boyfriend at 7.30 outside the Princess Bowling Alley along the A13, and she didn’t want to be late.
‘What’s a matter with you?’ she asked, as her sister barged into the room and threw herself onto her bed face downwards.
‘Don’t ask! I ain’t going a school Monday. I’ve asked Mum to find me a new school ’cause I ain’t never going back to Priory again,’ Steph wept.
Whereas she herself could turn on the waterworks on a regular basis just to get her own way, Angie had rarely seen Steph as upset before. She sat on the bed next to her, hoping that something bad had happened. ‘What’s up? I dunno what happened to your photo by the way. I was doing my make-up and it fell on the floor. I reckon the string must have snapped.’
‘Sod the photo. I’ve fallen out with Tammy and I’ve made a complete fool of myself over a boy. I am such a fucking idiot, I hate myself.’
‘Why have you fallen out with Tam?’ Angie asked, surprised. She knew how close her sister and Tammy Andrews were, and she had never known them to argue in all the years they’d known one another.
Needing to get the whole episode off her chest, Stephanie began at the beginning of the story and told her sister everything that had happened.
‘But if you lied and said that Tammy fancied this boy’s mate, then you can’t blame her, Steph. It’s you that’s out of order. Who is the boy anyway? Why won’t you tell me his name?’
‘Because he goes to our school and I know what a big mouth you’ve got. Enough people are gonna find out what happened as it is, without you telling all your mates an’ all,’ Steph replied, truthfully.
‘I won’t say nothing, I promise. Tell me his name?’ Angie asked, nosily. She was thoroughly enjoying her sister’s despair and wanted to know more.
‘Swear on Mum’s life you won’t tell anyone,’ Steph said, solemnly.
When Angela crossed her heart with her right hand and repeated the oath, Steph sat up and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘It was Wayne Jackman. He’s in the fifth year, do you know him?’
The look on Angela’s face immediately changed from a look of false concern to one of contorted rage. She snatched her hand away from her sister’s and stood up. ‘Wayne’s my boyfriend, you slag!’ she exclaimed.
Stephanie looked at her sister in pure amazement. Angela was only in the second year at Priory – she’d missed out on being in the year above because she had been born a week too late – so there was no way she could be dating Wayne, who was in the fifth year.
‘You gotta be joking, Ange. Jacko wouldn’t go out with a second-year girl. You sure you’ve got the right boy?’
With hatred in her bright green eyes, Angela glared at Stephanie. There was only one Wayne Jackman at Dagenham Priory, and not only was he gorgeous, but he belonged to her. ‘I’ve told him I’m fifteen. I’m meeting him tonight, he’s taking me to his mate’s party in Beam Avenue. I swear, Steph, if you mess this up for me by telling him my real age, I’ll never forgive you for it.’
‘I won’t say nothing, I promise, but he’s gonna find out your age, Ange. How can he not? You go to the same school, you div.’
Putting her trendy beads on, Angela picked up her silver purse and pointed her forefinger nastily in her sister’s face. ‘That’s for me to worry about, not you. I swear, Steph, if you ever say one word to him, I will fucking kill you.’
CHAPTER TWO
Stephanie spent all day Sunday moping about in her bedroom. Angela had flounced in and out a few times and, not wanting to face her sister, Steph had pretended she was asleep. Yesterday’s heartbreak had now turned to rage, but Steph wasn’t annoyed with her sister, she was angry with herself for acting like such an idiot. Wayne Jackman had humiliated her good and proper and, as Steph flicked through an old copy of Jackie Magazine, she vowed never to let another boy get the better of her again. If Wayne hadn’t been dating her sister and had just let her down gently, she would probably still have been in love with him. Instead, she had managed to force herself to hate him overnight.
Refusing to eat her roast-lamb dinner by claiming she had a sore throat, Stephanie used the same lie on the Monday morning when her mum woke her up to go to school. Facing Wayne and his gloating pals was totally out of the question – she’d rather eat nails.
‘Well, best you get that arse around that doctor’s then and get yourself some antibiotics. You better not be trying to pull the wool over my eyes, young lady, because if I find out you’re lying, I shall drag you into that school by your hair tomorrow,’ Pam warned her daughter.
Stephanie waited until her mum had gone to work and her sister had gone to school before getting out of bed. She hadn’t even had a wash or cleaned her teeth yesterday so, feeling filthy, she decided to run a bath. Turning the taps on, Steph went back into her bedroom and stared out of the window. The weather was dull and wet, just like her mood. Spotting a dark-haired boy leaning against Marlene’s wall smoking a cigarette, Stephanie lifted the net curtain up slightly so she could get a better view of him. Steph was well aware that her mum and Cathy were obsessed with the coming and goings at Marlene’s house, but surely this young boy wasn’t her latest conquest?
Aware that the boy had spotted her staring at him, Stephanie let go of the curtain and quickly jumped back from the window. Boys were now vermin as far as she was concerned.
Tammy Andrews somehow got through her classes and, as the bell rang for home time, grabbed her schoolbag and ran through the corridors. Falling out with Steph had upset her greatly and she had to see her best friend to try and sort things out.
‘Stop running, Andrews,’ Tammy heard one of the teachers shout. She slowed down and, as she turned the corner, bumped straight into Wayne Jackman and his cronies.
‘All right, Tampax. Where’s your mate?’ Mark Potter asked her.
‘Can you get out of my way, please?’ Tammy replied, glaring at the grinning buffoons.
‘Tell Steph that I will go out with her, but only if she sucks me dick first,’ Wayne said, laughing.
‘Steph is worth a thousand of you, Jacko. Now get out my way before I grass you up to Mr Jones.’
Pushing past the lads, Tammy heard one of them refer to her as ginger minge. Furious that it was because of their idiocy that she and Steph had fallen out, Tammy turned around to face them again. ‘You think you’re so cool and hard, don’t ya? Well you ain’t. All three of you are complete knob-ends and you seriously need to grow up.’
Thrilled that she’d had the bottle to stand up to her and Steph’s tormentors, Tammy ran towards her friend’s house with a smile on her face.
‘Steph, go round the shops and get me a carton of single cream. Lin’ll be home soon and I’m cooking her her favourite,’ Pam shouted up the stairs. She had rang the doctor’s earlier to check that Steph had been to see him and, even though she had, Pam was still positive there was nothing physically wrong with her daughter.
Stephanie stomped down the stairs. ‘But I thought Lin’s favourite was chicken soup,’ she said, sulkily.
‘It is.’
‘What do you need cream for then?’
Sick of the stroppy tone in her daughter’s voice, Pam couldn’t help but lose it as she handed her a fifty-pence piece. ‘Because I put the cream in the bastard soup! I know there’s sod all wrong with you, so get your arse round them shops before I really lose me rag. Oh, and tomorrow you’re going back to school, like it or not, young lady.’
When Stephanie slammed the front door, Pam set to work on peeling the King Edwards. Her home-made soup was more like a chicken stew and Linda loved a big dollop of buttery mashed potato with it. Pam was pleased that Linda was now having an extremely fulfilling social life. In Pam’s opinion her mother had always wrapped Linda in cotton wool and forbade her doing things that other women of her age liked to do. Since moving in with Pam, Linda’s life had evolved somewhat. She now had a job working in the local Butterkist popcorn factory, had made plenty of friends there, and was always out with her workmates. This weekend was only Linda’s second ever independent holiday. In April she had gone to a soul event in Caistor with her mates and this weekend had seen her trot off to Margate for a hen party.
‘Hang on a minute,’ Pam shouted, as she heard a loud banging on the door. She rinsed her hands under the tap, dried them on her apron and went to investigate.
‘Is Steph there?’ Tammy asked, nervously.
Unlike Angela’s best friend, Chloe, who Pam had never really liked, Pam adored Tammy. ‘Go and sit in the lounge, darling, and I’ll make you a cuppa. She’s only popped round the shop for me – she won’t be long.’
Scuttling back into the kitchen to put the kettle on, Pam smiled. Her Stephanie was a strong kid, a chip off the old block, and Pam was positive that once Steph made things up with Tammy, she’d be back to her old jolly self again.
Walking down Broad Street, Stephanie had a strange feeling that she was being followed. She bent down to tie the lace of her trainer and furtively glanced behind her. She recognized the culprit immediately. It was the same lad she’d seen in Marlene’s front garden earlier.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, the boy broke into a jog and caught up with her. ‘Hello. Barry Franklin’s the name,’ he said, holding out his right hand.
Stephanie felt her heart flutter as she stared into Barry’s handsome face. He was tall and broad with big brown doleful eyes and a killer smile. ‘I’m Steph. I’ve gotta go, me mum’s asked me to get her some cream,’ she mumbled, ignoring the handshake.
‘I’ll walk with you if you’re going to the shop. I saw you come out your house. Just moved in opposite, I have, which makes us neighbours.’
Remembering her mum and Cath’s conversations about Marlene’s hectic sex life, Steph decided to dig for gossip. ‘Are you Marlene’s new boyfriend?’ she asked, seriously.
Barry Franklin burst out laughing. ‘You’re having a giraffe, ain’t ya? Marlene’s me muvver.’
‘Tammy’s here to see you, love. She’s in the lounge,’ Pam whispered, as she ran to the front door to greet her eldest daughter.
Stephanie handed her mum the carton of cream. She was secretly pleased that Tammy had made the effort to come round, but she didn’t want to show it. ‘Tell her to come up to me room,’ she said, casually.
Thinking how much brighter her daughter looked since getting a bit of fresh air, Pam relayed the message.
Tammy cautiously opened her friend’s bedroom door. She knew Angie wasn’t at home as she’d dashed in, got changed, and shot out again about five minutes ago.
‘I’m really sorry about the other day, Steph, but I swear I only told Jacko you wanted to go out with him because you lied and said it was me that fancied Potter.’
Stephanie smiled. ‘And I’m sorry an’ all. Are we mates again?’
Tammy hugged her friend and then told her how she had stood up for her and insulted Wayne and his mates.
‘I wish I’d have seen their faces when you called them knob-ends,’ Steph said, laughing.
‘Their faces were a picture, mate. I mean, everyone’s frightened of them ’cause they’re meant to be the hardest fighters in the school, ain’t they, but I showed ’em that we ain’t scared.’
Steph nodded. ‘I’ve got some major goss for you an’ all. You know Wayne said he had a bird? You’ll never guess who it is.’
Tammy reeled off half a dozen names then, sick of being kept in suspense, begged Steph to tell her who the unlucky girl was.
‘It’s Angie,’ Stephanie said.
‘Angie who?’
‘My sister, Angie.’
‘No! Never! She’s only just turned thirteen. Oh my God! What a pervert!’ Tammy exclaimed.
‘Apparently he don’t know her age and he don’t know she goes to our school. Can you imagine what a dickhead he’ll feel when he finds out she’s only in the second year?’ Stephanie said.
‘Where did she meet him? How long they been going out?’ Tammy asked, excitedly. This was the juiciest bit of gossip she had heard in ages.
‘I dunno. I felt a right div when she first told me, as you can imagine, but I’m over it now, so I’ll find out more tonight.’
‘I can’t wait until the whole school finds out Jacko is some noncey cradle snatcher. Talk about spoil his street cred. He is gonna well get the piss taken out of him when everyone finds out,’ Tammy said, grabbing Steph by the hands and forcing her to dance. ‘Jacko is a pervert, Jacko is a pervert, la la la la, la la la la,’ she sang to the tune of the Conga.
Stephanie reluctantly joined in. She would have laughed her head off if Wayne had been dating any other thirteen-year-old girl, but seeing as it was her own flesh and blood, she couldn’t help but worry. Angela might be a stroppy little cow at times, but Steph would always love her dearly.
Cath let herself into Pam’s house with her own key. Both women had front- and back-door keys to one another’s houses, therefore never bothered to knock.
‘And where’s that dirty stop-out?’ Cath shouted out.
‘She ain’t bleedin’ home yet. Rang me from a callbox, she did. Her and the girls are having a couple of drinks in the Trades Hall apparently. All right for some, ain’t it?’
Cathy laughed. She liked Linda immensely and admired her greatly for not letting dwarfism stand in her way. ‘I treated us to a bottle of Liebfraumilch out me tips,’ Cath said, handing the bottle to Pam.
‘But it’s only Monday. We won’t get up for work tomorrow if we drink that,’ Pam complained.
‘You’ll never guess what,’ Cath said, excitedly.
‘What?’
‘I bumped into Lairy Mary up the Heathway today and she reckons the father of the old slapper’s kids is some East End gangster called Smasher Franklin.’
Pam clapped her hands in delight. ‘No! I always knew she looked like a gangster’s moll. Oh sod it, let’s open that bloody bottle of wine after all.’
Wayne Jackman put his hands on Angela Crouch’s buttocks and thrust his erection against her midriff. He really did like Angie; she reminded him facially of a young Samantha Fox, but on the downside he found her very childish at times and her parents’ strictness drove him bonkers. ‘Don’t go home yet, it’s only seven,’ he begged her.
‘I’ve gotta go home. My aunt’s coming round for dinner and my mum and dad will kill me if I’m late,’ Angela lied. She’d had to pretend that her dad was a big thug and still alive because Wayne kept insisting on walking her home. She’d also conveniently forgotten to mention that her Auntie Linda lived with them and was also a dwarf.
Wayne sighed. He had been sexually active for over a year now and Angela’s failure to participate in his favourite hobby was enough to send his frustration to another level.
‘Look, I know you’re frightened of your dad and you can’t stay out late, so what about me and you bunking off school tomorrow? I’ll get us some booze and we can listen to records in my bedroom and stuff.’
‘I can’t. My mum will kill me if she finds out I ain’t gone to school,’ Angela replied nervously. She knew sitting in Wayne’s bedroom would mean some serious kind of physical contact and she wasn’t quite ready for anything like that yet.
Wayne moved his body away from Angela’s and lit up a cigarette. ‘I think me and you should finish,’ he said, hoping his callous statement would have the desired effect.
‘I don’t wanna finish. Please don’t pack me up, Jacko, please,’ Angela begged, tears in her eyes.
‘I’ll be outside the Princess Bowl at half eight tomorrow morning. If you turn up, you’re still me girlfriend, and if you don’t, we’re finished.’
Aware that Angela was now in floods of tears, Wayne smirked and walked away.
Back in Manning Road, Stephanie was telling Tammy about her encounter with Barry Franklin. ‘He swears that he’s starting our school tomorrow and he reckons he’s gonna be in our class. I don’t believe him though, Tam. He seemed a bit of a joker, so I bet he was just winding me up.’
‘So what does he look like?’ Tammy asked.
‘He is quite good looking. I think you’d quite like him, Tam, but he definitely ain’t my type. I’m off boys anyway. Just gonna concentrate on me school work from now on. I’ll never get a good job in a bank or office in London if I don’t pass me exams.’
Tammy nodded understandingly. She was also determined to do well in her exams as she wanted a better life for herself. Many a time she and Steph had discussed living in big houses in a posh area and having unlimited funds to shop for clothes and make-up.
Hearing a knock on her bedroom door, Stephanie turned off the dulcet tones of Kid Creole and the Coconuts. ‘What?’ she yelled.
‘Lin’s home now, we’re gonna eat in a minute. Does Tammy want to stay for dinner?’
‘Yes please, Mrs Crouch,’ Tammy shouted out. Unlike her own mum, Stephanie’s was a great cook.
‘Best you come downstairs and ring your mother then,’ Pam ordered.
Stephanie ran downstairs and gave her Auntie Linda a big hug. Unlike her sister, who was embarrassed over their aunt’s lack of height, Steph adored having Lin living with them. At twenty-nine, Lin was six years younger than her mum. Steph loved her company and treated her more like an older sister than an aunt.
‘How’d you get on, Lin? Didn’t get drunk and flash at the men again, did ya?’
Linda chuckled. The last time she’d gone away with the girls to Caister they’d travelled by minibus, and on the way there Lin and two of her pals had flashed their bums at a coach-load full of blokes.
‘No, I didn’t do a moony. In fact I was the perfect lady,’ Lin replied, with a naughty twinkle in her eye.
Cathy went out into the kitchen to help Pam bring the plates in. ‘Where’s Angie?’ she asked.
‘Christ knows! She promised she would be home by seven. I’m sure the little cow’s got a new boyfriend. Been very secretive lately, she has, and I can read her like a bleedin’ book.’
‘Speak of the devil,’ Cath whispered, as the front door opened.
‘Where you been? You’re over half hour late,’ Pam yelled at her youngest daughter.
Visibly upset, Angela ignored her mother and ran straight up the stairs.
‘Go and have a word with her, Steph. Find out what’s wrong,’ Pam shouted out.
‘Come and stand outside the bedroom door,’ Steph whispered to Tammy.
‘What’s up, sis?’ Stephanie asked, entering their bedroom.
‘What do you care?’ Angie replied, wiping her eyes with her cuff.
‘Of course I care. I am your sister.’
‘It’s Jacko. He’s got the hump with me because I can never stay out that late. I think he might finish with me.’
When her sister let out a heartbroken sob, Stephanie actually felt very sorry for her. ‘Where did you meet him, Ange?’ she asked, hugging her little sister.
‘In the bowling alley at the Chequers. I’ve told him so many lies, and if he finds out I know he’ll pack me up.’
‘What exactly have you told him, then?’
‘I’ve told him I’m fifteen and I’m in the fifth year at Parsloes Manor. I’ve also told him that our dad’s still alive and he beats me up if I’m late home or I date boys.’
‘What!’ Stephanie exclaimed incredulously. Angie lying about her age was understandable, but pretending their poor deceased father was still alive and darkening his name by calling him a violent bully was despicably low, even by Angela’s standards.
‘You know Dad was a decent man, so how can you say such bad things about him?’
‘I only know what Mum’s told me about him. I don’t even remember the man. Anyway, Jacko thinks my surname is Marshall, so he ain’t gonna know I’m talking about our dad, is he?’ Angela replied, abruptly.
‘You might as well just tell him the truth, Ange, because he’s bound to spot you in school at some point.’
‘No, he won’t. All his lessons are in the upper school and mine are in the lower,’ Angela said, confidently.
Stephanie shrugged. ‘You coming down for some dinner? Lin’s home.’
‘No, I’m on a diet. Can you do me a favour, Steph? But I need you to swear you won’t say nothing to Mum.’
‘I promise I won’t tell Mum.’
‘I’m bunking off school tomorrow to spend the day with Jacko and I need you to write me a note and sign it with Mum’s signature.’
‘No way! Mum will kill both of us if she finds out,’ Stephanie said, truthfully.
‘But she won’t find out, will she? Please Steph, you’re the only one I know who can copy her handwriting – and I covered for you when you got caught at the fair.’
Stephanie debated what to do for the best. Angie was right about covering for her. Steph had sneaked off to the fair, got spotted by Lairy Mary, and Angela had sworn blind to their mum that they had been at the pictures together that day. Thankfully, their mother had believed Angie.
‘OK, I’ll do it, but only this once. Where you going with Jacko? You ain’t going round his house, are you?’
‘No, we’re gonna get a bus into Romford and hang around the shops,’ Angela lied.
‘Just be careful,’ Steph replied, as she left the room and shut the bedroom door.
‘She is such a little bitch. How you suffer her I will never know,’ Tammy whispered as the girls went back downstairs.
‘She’s only young,’ Stephanie replied, protectively.
‘Yeah, but she is such a nasty piece of work. Surely you must realize that?’
Not wanting to slag off her own flesh and blood, Stephanie shrugged. ‘Whatever she is, Tam, Angie is still my sister and I will always love her no matter what.’
CHAPTER THREE
Angela Crouch was unsure if she felt excited or petrified as she stuffed some clothes and make-up into her schoolbag. Dagenham Priory had only just introduced a uniform policy for the younger pupils, and while Steph was still allowed to attend school in her own clothes, Angela unfortunately wasn’t.
‘What am I gonna do if Jacko looks in my bag and sees my uniform, Steph?’ she asked, with panic in her voice.
‘Don’t put your bag down. You’ve no need to if you’re walking round Romford, have you?’ Stephanie replied, suspiciously. She had a gut feeling her sister was lying about where she and Wayne were supposedly going to.
‘Please walk to the Heathway with me, Steph. I’ll quickly get changed in the bogs, then you can take my bag to school with you.’
‘I ain’t lugging your poxy bag about with me all day. It’s bad enough I’ve gotta forge you a note from Mum,’ Stephanie said, angrily.
Angela had a habit of being nice to her sister when she wanted a favour in return. ‘Please Steph, I beg you. I’d do it for you. What about that time I stole that lipstick out of Boots for you because you were too frightened to nick it yourself? I’d do anything for you, you know I would.’
Staring at the look of innocence in her younger sister’s eyes, Stephanie smiled at her. ‘All right, I’ll take the poxy bag, but get your arse in gear ’cause I don’t wanna be late for school. Your lies will get you into big trouble one day, Ange, you mark my words.’
Wayne Jackman shuddered as he got into the tide-marked, stained bath. His nan had obviously forgotten to put the immersion heater on again and the water felt like ice.
Wayne had been brought up in Bonner Street, Bethnal Green. He was the only son of his parents, Jill and Lenny, and had two younger sisters, Lucy and Samantha. Wayne’s childhood was anything but perfect. His dad was always in and out of prison, and money was scarce, but he’d been happy in his own little way. One day in 1978, life had changed dramatically for Wayne when he’d arrived home one evening to find his house cordoned off. His dad had recently been released from Pentonville after serving a three-year sentence for GBH and, seeing as how the police had raided his house in the past, Wayne’s first thought was that his dad had done something bad again.
‘I live here. Let me see my mum,’ Wayne had screamed on the evening in question, trying to barge his way through the crowd of coppers.
It had been Jean, his next-door neighbour who had tearfully broken the news to him. His mother had been stabbed to death by his own father. Months later, Wayne learned the reason behind his father’s actions: his mother had been having an affair while he’d been in prison, and had got pregnant by the man he knew as Uncle Darren.
After spending a month in care, Wayne was sent to live with his dad’s parents, Doris and Bill. His sisters had already been given a home in Leicester by his mum’s sister, Kim, but she already had a son and didn’t want him. At first, Wayne had missed his sisters immensely, but over the years he’d taken his grandparents’ advice and all but forgotten about them. He had written to them twice, but they had never replied, and if they couldn’t be bothered with him, why should he worry about them?
‘Evil little whores. They’ll turn out just like their mother,’ his nan had convinced him.
Wayne was fairly happy living with his grandparents. They adored the ground he walked on, gave him plenty of money and a free rein to do whatever he wanted. The house was a total shithole and his nan and grandad were heavy drinkers, but neither of these things particularly bothered Wayne. As long as he was clean and wore nice clothes, how they lived their lives was none of his business.
‘All right, boy? Whaddya want for breakfast?’ Doris asked her grandson as he sauntered down the stairs.
‘Just toast. I’ve gotta go and meet me bird. You’re still going out, ain’t ya?’
Rolling an Old Holborn cigarette, Bill chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, me and your grandmother won’t stop you from sowing your wild oats, will we, Doll?’
‘You just make sure you don’t fall head over heels for her, Wayne. You don’t want to end up in the same situation as your father, do you now?’ Doris warned her grandson.
Not for one minute did Doris or Bill even think that their beloved son was in the wrong for stabbing his wife twenty-six times with a bread knife. In their eyes, the slag he’d married deserved her grizzly ending for betraying their Lenny in the way that she had.
‘Roll us a snout, Grandad, I ain’t got none till I go out.’
Doris handed her grandson two pieces of burnt toast, then fished through her purse for some money. Neither she nor Bill had worked for years, but they had all their Lenny’s money hidden under the floorboards upstairs and he had told them to help themselves to it. What with their pensions and their regular wins on the horses, Doris and Bill lived their lives to the full.
‘Get her a bit drunk, have your wicked way, then fucking well dump her,’ Doris cackled, as she put a five-pound note in the palm of her grandson’s hand.
Wayne chuckled, stood up and grabbed his jacket. He’d always found it funny that his nan had tits and a fanny herself yet harboured a hatred towards other women. Apart from her mate, Big Brenda, who she drank with in the Millhouse, all of his nan’s friends were male.
‘And don’t forget to use a dunky. You don’t wanna get the little tart up the spout,’ Bill yelled, as Wayne opened the front door.
‘I won’t forget,’ Wayne shouted back. Then, with a grin of expectation on his face, he headed off to meet Angie.
Due to her vain younger sister taking forever to do her make-up in the public toilets at the Heathway, Stephanie Crouch was ten minutes late for school. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss,’ she said, as she barged breathless into the classroom.
‘Is that him?’ Tammy whispered in Steph’s ear, as she sat down at her desk.
‘Is what who?’ Steph replied, perplexed.
When Tammy pointed to the right-hand side of the classroom, Steph looked around and felt her heart start to beat nineteen to the dozen. It was Barry Franklin and he was grinning at her.
‘Well?’ Tammy asked, excitedly.
‘Shut up,’ Stephanie hissed.
Aware that Steph’s face had turned a bright shade of red, Tammy smirked knowingly.
‘Now we are all here, I would like to introduce you to our new classmate. Would you like to come to the front?’ Miss Pratt said, gesticulating to Barry.
‘I’m quite capable of introducing meself, if that’s OK?’ Barry said, as he strolled to the front of the classroom, full of confidence.
As he caught her eye and winked at her, Stephanie immediately looked away. Barry Franklin seemed to be having a worse effect on her than Wayne Jackman had and she would not allow herself to be humiliated again. Not now, not ever.
Angela Crouch was a bag of nerves as she sat gingerly on the edge of Wayne Jackman’s bed. Wayne looked absolutely gorgeous today. He was wearing a pure white Sergio Tacchini tracksuit which seemed to make his blonde wedge haircut and piercing blue eyes stand out even more than usual.
‘Cider? Lager? Or Scotch?’ Wayne asked his girlfriend.
Unlike her sister, who drank regularly at weekends, Angela had barely ever touched the stuff but, not wanting to act like a kid, she opted for Scotch.
‘Are you OK?’ Wayne asked, as she took a sip and promptly started to choke. ‘Yeah, I’m cool. Went down the wrong hole,’ Angela gasped.
‘You sure you don’t want lager or cider instead?’
‘No, I always drink Scotch,’ Angela lied, taking another sip.
‘What do you wanna listen to? How about the Fatback Band?’ Wayne suggested.
‘Yeah, I love that,’ Angela lied. She actually had no idea who the Fatback Band were. She was more into Kajagoogoo and Culture Club herself.
Singing the words to ‘I Found Loving’, Wayne sat down next to Angela and pushed her into a backwards position on the bed. ‘You make me feel really horny, do you know that?’ he panted, as he fondled her breasts.
Still feeling extremely edgy, Angela pushed him off her and sat up. ‘Can we have some more drink and play some music before we get off with one another? We’ve got all day, ain’t we?’ she asked, fearfully.
Sensing her anxiety, but also sensing that there was a good chance he was going to get his end away later, Wayne sat up and smiled at Angela. ‘Your wish is my command, babe.’
At lunchtimes, Stephanie and Tammy had a regular routine. Firstly, they would walk to the little tuck shop which was a spit’s throw from the school. The nice man in there would sell cigarettes singly to the schoolchildren for ten pence each and Steph and Tammy took full advantage of his kindness. From there, the girls would walk round to Broad Street where there was a parade of shops and a small indoor market. The girls’ lunch usually consisted of a bag of chips from the local chippy, but occasionally, if they were feeling flush, they would buy a burger in the café and sit in there and eat it.
‘Look, Barry Franklin’s standing outside the chippy on his own. Let’s go and talk to him, shall we? It must be horrible starting a new school when you don’t know anyone, and he said when he introduced himself that he came from Bethnal Green,’ Tammy said.
Lighting up the Player’s Number One that she’d just purchased in the tuck shop, Stephanie felt hot and flustered but did her utmost to look and sound cool. ‘Just walk past him. I can’t be arsed talking to boys no more.’
‘You like him. I can tell,’ Tammy said, teasingly.
‘No I fucking don’t! Now shut up, and if you say anything to him, I’ll never forgive you,’ Steph replied, angrily.
‘All right, ladies. Mind if I tag along with you? I don’t really know anyone yet and I feel a right plonker standing ’ere on me own,’ Barry asked, staring at Steph.
Unable to hold his gaze, Stephanie looked down at her feet. ‘We’ve gotta go somewhere, ain’t we, Tam?’ she mumbled.
Tammy ignored her friend’s awkwardness and smiled at Barry. Unlike Wayne Jackman, Barry seemed like a decent lad and there was no way she was going to leave him standing outside the chip shop on his own. ‘We’re only going to the café in Broad Street market. You can come with us if you like.’
Barry grinned. ‘Cheers, girls, and to repay you for your kindness, lunch is on me.’
Over in Digby Gardens, Angela’s earlier nerves had now disappeared and she felt both woozy and extremely confident. ‘Can I have another Scotch?’ she asked Wayne. At first, Angie had found the drink tasted horrendous, but after a couple of glasses, she’d sort of got used to the taste and she enjoyed the floating feeling that came with drinking it.
‘Gissa kiss now, babe,’ Wayne urged, as he handed Angela her drink.
Giggling, Angie pushed him away. She knocked her drink back in one gulp, then stood up. ‘If you let me choose some music, then you can have more than a kiss,’ she said, seductively.
Wayne grinned broadly. ‘Tell me what records you want on, and if I’ve got ’em, I’ll play ’em for you.’
‘You got any Kajagoogoo or Culture Club?’ Angie asked.
Wayne burst out laughing. ‘No I ain’t! That’s little kids’ music.’
Feeling her face redden as she remembered her own age, Angela thought of the bands her elder sister liked. ‘What about Duran Duran or Soft Cell?’ she asked, composing herself once more.
‘I’ve got Soft Cell. “Tainted Love” is one of my favourite songs ever. What’s yours?’ Wayne asked.
‘“Tainted Love” is my favourite song an’ all,’ Angela replied. Steph used to play it all the time in their room and it had sort of grown on Angie over the past year or so.
Wayne put the seven-inch single onto his record player and set the arm so it would automatically repeat itself.
‘I love you Jacko,’ Angela said childishly, as Wayne positioned his body on top of hers.
‘Take your top and knickers off,’ Wayne ordered, his voice husky with lust.
‘You’re fucking beautiful, babe,’ he whispered truthfully, when Angela stood completely naked in front of him. Her breasts weren’t as big as some of the girls he’d slept with, but other than that, she was perfect.
Angela stared at Wayne as he took off his tracksuit top. His torso was fit and firm and he had one of them six-packs like she’d seen on some of the pop stars whose images were pinned up on her bedroom wall. When he took off his bottoms and put a rubber thing on his penis, Angela felt her nerves momentarily return. She had never seen a willy in real life before, and Wayne’s was not only bigger than she had expected, but it was also sticking up in the air like a flagpole.
‘I want you so much,’ Wayne mumbled, as he pushed her back onto the bed and got on top of her.
‘You’re hurting me,’ Angela cried, as Wayne tried to ram his penis inside her.
‘Ain’t you done this before?’ Wayne asked, surprised.
‘Tell me if you’ve done it before and then I’ll tell you if I have,’ Angie replied, showing her true age once more.
‘Yeah, I’ve done it loads of times,’ Wayne bragged.
‘And me,’ Angela lied.
Now he knew she wasn’t a virgin, Wayne roughly thrust himself inside her.
Angela bit her lip to stop herself from screaming out in pain. A minute or so later, Wayne let out a funny groan and rolled onto his back. ‘That was fucking amazing! Did you enjoy it, babe?’ he asked, with a big smile on his face.
Angela nodded and tried to block the awful experience from her mind by concentrating on Marc Almond’s voice. Angela had expected having sex for the first time would be pleasurable and romantic, but Wayne hadn’t even kissed her during it. All he had done was get on top of her and then hurt her by shoving his big thingy up her.
‘Do you want to do it again?’ Wayne asked, putting a comforting arm around Angela. He had just noticed the blood on the end of his penis, so now guessed she had lied and it was her first time.
‘Not yet. Let’s have another drink first and listen to the music for a bit,’ Angie replied, miserably.
As a happy Wayne leapt off the bed to pour the drinks, he sang at the top of his voice to the chorus of the song.
Wanting to cry, Angela shut her eyes. If what she had just experienced was meant to be love, then the words in the song must be right: it was bloody tainted.
Tammy Andrews lived in the opposite direction to Stephanie, so they arranged to meet that evening and said goodbye outside the school gates. Carrying her own schoolbag on one shoulder and her sister’s bag on the other, Steph set off to meet Angie outside the public toilets at the bottom of the Heathway Hill.
‘’Ere, let me carry your bags for you. I’m walking your way,’ Barry said, as he caught up with Steph.
‘Nah, it’s all right. I ain’t going straight home. Gotta meet my sister at the Heathway. One of these bags belongs to her.’
‘Well I’ll walk to the Heathway with you then. Give us that bigger bag ’ere, I can see you’re struggling.’
‘Thanks,’ Steph said, as she handed him her sister’s sports bag. Barry had been such a gentleman in the café earlier. He had insisted on paying for her and Tammy’s cheeseburger and chips, and had even bought them a packet of ten Benson to share. When Steph had first laid eyes on Barry, she had known he reminded her of someone famous, and while sitting in the café it came to her who it was. She had recently seen the film The Outsiders and Barry Franklin was the spitting image of the boy she’d fancied in that. Tammy had told her when they’d left the café that the actor in the film who looked like Barry was called Matt Dillon.
‘So how old’s your sister then? And why you got her bag?’ Barry asked, breaking the silence.
‘Angie’s thirteen and I’ve got her bag ’cause the little cow bunked off school today. Does my head in, she does, but I do love her. You won’t tell your mum she bunked off, will you? If mine finds out, she’ll kill her.’
Barry chuckled. ‘I might be a lot of things but I ain’t a grass, girl. Where I come from, grasses get shot.’
‘Why did you buy me and Tam fags and lunch? It was a nice thing to do, but why did you do it?’ Stephanie asked, suspiciously. Her mum had drummed it into her from an early age never to let a boy buy her anything because they would always expect something in return.
‘I bought you fags and lunch ’cause I like you. Where I come from, that’s what boys do when they like a girl.’
Feeling her stomach start to somersault, Stephanie looked away from Barry’s intense gaze. ‘I can take the bag from ’ere. I’ll see you tomorrow at school,’ she said, annoyed with herself for feeling the way she did.
Barry handed her the bag and at the same time grasped her hand. ‘Let me take you out, Steph? I work, so I can afford to take you anywhere you wanna go. You choose and I’ll pay.’
Feeling her hand start to shake, Stephanie snatched it away from Barry’s and stared at the pavement. Wayne had humiliated her beyond belief and she didn’t fancy a repeat performance of that. ‘I dunno,’ she replied, with an ill-at-ease tone to her voice. She felt confused. Wayne was the first boy she had ever really liked, and now she felt the same about Barry. Did all fourteen year olds fall in and out of love so quickly? Tammy had never had a real boyfriend, so she would have to ask some of her other school friends if her feelings were normal.
Barry grinned. He knew that Steph liked him and would eventually say yes, so he decided to give her some space. ‘Look, I’m gonna shoot off now. Why don’t you give me your answer tomorrow lunchtime? I won’t ask you in class, I’ll meet you and Tam down the café again and you can tell me there.’
‘OK,’ Steph replied, not knowing what else to say.
Pecking her on the cheek, Barry Franklin ran off while Steph stood rooted to the spot.
Angela Crouch stood outside the public toilets feeling like a woman rather than a child. Her and Wayne had done it four times and each fresh attempt had been more pleasurable for Angie than the previous. The bit she’d enjoyed the most was when Wayne had put his finger between the lips of her vagina and moved it up and down. That had felt really good, and at one point she had felt really weird, like she wanted to scream out with joy. Unfortunately, though, Wayne had then stopped.
Seeing Stephanie approaching the pedestrian crossing, Angela ran across the road towards her. ‘Thanks, sis, I owe you one,’ she said, as she took her bag off her.
‘How was your day? Did you and Jacko have a laugh in Romford?’ Steph asked, chirpily.
‘Yeah, we had a brill time. Why you looking so happy? Has something happened?’ Angela asked, suspiciously.
Desperate to tell someone her wonderful news, Stephanie made her sister promise not to tell their mum.
‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ Angie swore.
Stephanie explained all about Barry, without leaving out any detail. ‘He paid for our lunches, bought us some snout and he says he’ll take me anywhere I want to go. He works at weekends as what’s called a fly pitcher – like a market trader – and he’s the image of that famous actor, Matt Dillon. Oh Ange, he is gorgeous, and he only lives across the road to us. I can even stare at him through our bedroom window.’
Angela was baffled. To her knowledge there was no handsome boy living across the road to them, and she fleetingly wondered if her sister was making the whole story up. ‘I dunno who you mean, Steph. The only boy anywhere near our age living over the road is four-eyed Timmy, and he certainly don’t look like Matt Dillon. You ain’t making it up ’cause you’re jealous of me and Jacko, are you?’
Stephanie laughed and shook her head in disbelief. Her sister was so self-centred, everything was always about her, her, her. ‘Barry’s only just moved in. He’s Marlene’s son.’
‘Oh my God! Mum will go mad if she finds out you’re going out with the old slapper’s boy,’ Angie exclaimed.
‘Well, she ain’t gonna find out, is she? Don’t you dare tell her, Ange, ’cause if you do, I shall tell her about you and Jacko and I’ll tell her you bunked off school as well.’
Angela shot her sister a disdainful look. ‘I swear I won’t say anything, OK? But, I’m telling you now, when Mum does find out, she will go mental.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Dressed in faded Levi jeans, a navy Lacoste jumper and white Nike trainers, Barry Franklin put on his grey flat cap and grinned at his reflection in the mirror. He was very aware of how cheeky and good looking he was, but he wasn’t big headed about it.
‘Why ain’t you at work?’ his mother asked accusingly, as she crept up behind him. Even though Barry was only fourteen, now he was living with her again, Marlene expected him to pay his way by bunging her the odd fiver or tenner here and there.
‘I took the day off. I’m taking a bird out instead,’ Barry replied, truthfully. He had always had a difficult relationship with his mother, and had only moved back in with her because his dad was up in court again next week and was guaranteed to get another little holiday at Her Majesty’s Pleasure.
‘If you’ve got money to spend on some little tart, then you can pay me some housekeeping,’ Marlene spat, holding out her right hand.
Barry handed his mother a tenner. ‘Where you off to today, Mum? You look well smart,’ Barry said, politely.
‘I’m going out with Marge. She’s found a proper little boozer over in South London. Reckons it’s full of villains and they don’t let the women buy a drink in there. I need to find meself a decent man who will look after me. I don’t like this bleedin’ Dagenham. A woman such as I deserves to live somewhere better, Barry.’
Even though he didn’t think his mother deserved sod all, Barry nodded in agreement. His dad said leaving his mum was the best move he had ever made, and he had been furious that she had kept his surname after their divorce. ‘Fucking old rotter she is. Only kept my name to give herself some undeserved street cred,’ his dad ranted on a regular basis.
‘So where you taking this bird and who is she?’ Marlene asked, nosily.
Stephanie had told him that her mum was very strict about her dating boys, so knowing what a loud-mouth his mother could be, Barry decided to lie about her identity. ‘Her name’s Sue and she’s in my class at school,’ he said. ‘I’m taking her up Roman Road, then I might show her around our old stamping ground.’
Marlene sneered. ‘If you see that wanker of a father of yours, remind him he has an ex-wife and a pregnant daughter who are both skint.’
Barry nodded. His dad, Smasher, had been appalled when he had found out his sister Chantelle was pregnant by an Indian drug dealer from Ilford. ‘Dirty little whore she is. Like mother like daughter. I want no more to do with her, son, and I ain’t having no Paki kid calling me grandad,’ Smasher had screamed on learning the news.
Pecking his mother politely on the cheek, Barry picked up his fags, lighter and door key. He wasn’t due to meet Stephanie for another hour but, as always, his mother was doing his head in and he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
Due to enduring a mild bout of gastroenteritis, Pam and Cathy had both been off work for the past two days.
‘How you feeling, girl? I’m on the mend, I think,’ Cathy shouted, as she let herself into Pam’s house.
‘I’ve still got the shits, but I feel a lot better than I did,’ Pam replied.
‘Ere, wanna hear the latest?’ Cathy asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Lairy Mary popped round yesterday. She reckons that the old slapper’s daughter is pregnant by some Indian fella who’s inside for possessing heroin. He comes out next week, so Mary reckons.’
Pam put her hand over her mouth in shock. ‘What a scumbag family they are! That young boy we saw moving his stuff in last week is the old slapper’s son, apparently. Edna next-door-but-one reckons he’s started at Priory. I hope they don’t put him in either of my girls’ classes. He looks more Steph’s age than my Angie’s.’
‘Yous two talking about us?’ Angela shouted as she galloped down the stairs, followed by her sister.
For the second time in minutes, Pam stood with her jaw wide open. Both her daughters had lipstick and mascara on and Angela had gone one step further by plastering her eyelids with bright green eyeshadow.
‘Where’re yous two off to, all done up to the nines?’
‘Just out,’ Angela replied, stroppily.
‘Out where? Yous pair got boyfriends or something?’ Pam replied, knowingly.
‘No! We’re just meeting some friends over the park,’ Stephanie lied.
Knowing that turning the tables was always the best way out of a difficult situation, Angela immediately turned them. ‘Me and Steph wanna know why you were talking about us? What we done wrong now?’ she asked, accusingly.
‘We weren’t saying anything detrimental against you girls, were we, Cath?’
‘No. We was talking about the old slapper’s son across the road. He’s started your school by all accounts, and your mother said she hoped he weren’t in any of your classes.’
Unable to stop herself, Angie started to giggle.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Stephanie said, grabbing her sister roughly by the arm.
‘I weren’t born yesterday, you know. In your opinion I might be past me sell-by date, but I ain’t bleedin’ simple. I know you’ve got boyfriends and I shall find out who they are,’ Pam shouted angrily as the front door slammed.
Cathy raised her eyebrows. ‘Girls, eh! Who’d have ’em?’
Bill Jackman was quite pleased that his grandson was stuffing a bit of fluff, but his wife had her concerns about the situation and had insisted on hanging around to meet the girl.
Wayne agreed to the introduction. As long as his grandparents didn’t cramp his style, he didn’t care what they did. He knew he was lucky to be allowed to have the house to himself to bed a girl, none of his friends were, and he couldn’t wait to have sex with Angela again. He had seen her every evening this week, but she’d flatly refused to let him have his wicked way with her over the park, even though he’d begged her. When the doorbell rang, Wayne bolted into the hallway. ‘All right, babe? Come and say hello to me nan and grandad,’ he said, dragging Angela into the lounge.
‘Hello,’ Angela said, awkwardly staring at her feet. If they sussed her real age, she was dead meat.
‘Nice to meet you, love. Our Wayne says you live with your mum and dad near the Heathway. Is that right?’ Doris probed, nosily.
‘Yeah,’ Angela replied.
‘What’s your mum and dad’s names? I’m always up that Heathway.’
‘Pam and David Marshall,’ Angela lied.
‘Come on, Doll. Let’s leave the kids to play records and stuff,’ Bill urged, gently shoving his wife out of the room.
‘Well? Pretty little thing, wasn’t she?’ Bill asked as he shut the front door.
‘Horrible little cunt! Couldn’t even look me in the eye – and if she’s fifteen like our Wayne says she is, then I’m fucking Doris Day.’
Barry and Stephanie took the District Line train to Bow Road Station and then had a ten-minute walk to get to the market. ‘Have you been up ’ere before?’ Barry asked.
‘Yeah. My mum comes from Bow and my grandad still lives here. We ain’t been to visit him for ages though. I was only about twelve last time I came to the market, I think.’
‘Do you wanna pop in and see your grandad while we’re up this way? I’ll wait for you outside if you like,’ Barry asked, thoughtfully.
‘Nah. He’ll probably be in the pub anyway,’ Stephanie replied, truthfully.
Stephanie felt her heart flip as Barry held her hand. Her nerves hadn’t embarrassed her so far today, but the feel of Barry’s warm hand pressing against her own felt like an electric shock entering her system. ‘Let’s have a fag,’ she said, snatching her hand away and riffling through her small silver shoulder bag.
‘What time you gotta be back later?’
‘Ten. Are we hanging about up here all day or going back to the Heathway later?’
‘Firstly, I’m gonna introduce you to the geezer I work for. Then, I’ll treat you to lunch. We can have a mooch up and down the market, then I’m gonna take you up to Bethnal Green to show you where I come from. Our last stop will be the Bishop Bonner pub. It’s where my dad drinks and I really want you to meet him.’
‘I can’t meet your dad, Bal. Say he tells your mum and then my mum finds out?’ Stephanie replied, horrified.
Tilting Stephanie’s chin upwards so that she made eye contact with him, Barry treated her to his killer smile. ‘Look, babe, I know you don’t want your mum to know that we’ve been out together and I can understand why. No one wants their daughter associated with a muvver like mine, but my dad’s a good geezer. He’s gotta go away for a while next week and, seeing as you’re the first girl I’ve ever really liked, I’d be well chuffed if you’d meet him. He’ll adore you, I know he will.’
Stephanie’s heart was pounding at twice its normal rate. Did Barry just say that she was the first girl he had ever really liked, or had her ears deceived her? ‘OK, I’ll meet him then,’ she croaked.
Wayne and Angela spent the whole afternoon at it like rabbits. After her initial painful experience, Angela had taken to sex like a duck takes to water and had even learnt the art of giving a blow job.
‘Suck it again for me, Ange. It’s your fault it keeps getting hard,’ Wayne said, bluntly.
Angela smiled. Wayne had told her earlier that she gave him the best sex he’d ever had and Angie liked to feel indispensable.
‘Do you love me, Jacko?’ she asked him coyly.
Desperate to feel her plump warm lips around his penis again, Wayne nodded. ‘Yeah, of course I love you, babe.’
Stephanie Crouch shook hands with Barry’s boss, Steve. Most Indian people Steph had met before, including the two boys in her class at school, were very reserved, kept themselves to themselves and spoke in weird accents, but Steve was entirely different. He was loud, funny and sounded more cockney than she did. When Barry had first told her he was a fly pitcher, Steph hadn’t quite understood the occupation. She hadn’t wanted to ask in case she made herself look silly, but now she knew exactly what Barry did. A fly pitcher was someone who hadn’t been given a pitch by the council so stood on a street corner selling their wares. Steve and Barry sold kingsize bath towels, and Barry would act as a look-out for the police and market inspectors while Steve used his witty sales patter to charm the public.
‘Do you ever get caught?’ Steph asked, as they said goodbye to Steve.
‘Nah, and even if we do we only get a slap on the wrists. Got eyes in the back of me head, me,’ Barry replied, laughing.
Stephanie smiled broadly as Barry held her hand again. Everybody knew him down Roman Road market and she could sense how popular he was with the other traders. ‘That’s a nice top, ain’t it?’ she said, pointing at an off-the-shoulder baggy red sweatshirt.
Barry dragged her over to the stall she was pointing at. ‘Bag me up one of them red sweatshirts please, Joanie,’ he ordered the lady who was serving.
‘I can’t let you buy that for me,’ Stephanie said, amazed by Barry’s generosity.
Handing Steph the sweatshirt in a carrier bag, Barry turned towards her. ‘I really do like you, Steph. Please say you’ll be my girl?’
Barely able to believe her luck, a completely besotted Stephanie nodded her head with glee.
Marlene Franklin was sitting opposite her friend Marge in the Albion pub in Woolwich. Marge’s real name was Karen, but she had earned her nickname because her legs tended to spread quicker then Stork margarine. The name didn’t bother Marge at all. She loved sex, always had done, and if people were jealous of her success rate with the male gender, then that was their bloody problem.
‘Does this dress look all right? You can’t see me knickers when I walk, can you?’ Marlene asked her pal as she returned from the Ladies.
‘No, you look stunning, mate, and them blokes in the corner can’t take their eyes off you,’ Marge replied, truthfully.
Pouting her lips just like the models did, Marlene sat down and crossed one leg seductively over the other. At thirty years old, Marlene still looked rather youthful for her age, and with her bright red lipstick, false black eyelashes, and thick blonde hair that she curled herself with heated rollers, Marlene considered herself to be the spitting image of Marilyn Monroe. Today, she had made a special effort and had worn the short, leopard-skin dress that she had stolen from a designer boutique in Hornchurch. Marlene was an expert at shoplifting. She would always wear bulky clothes to go out shopping, would try lots of items on in the fitting room, then would walk out with her favourite underneath her own outfit.
Marlene smiled coyly as an elderly man in a tan Crombie-style coat winked at her. She knew he couldn’t take his eyes off her fishnet stockings and high-heeled black suede shoes, and who could blame him?
‘So have you finished with that Winston now?’ Marge asked her friend.
Marlene took a sip of her gin and tonic. If the men didn’t start buying them drinks soon, they would have to start ordering halves of lager just to make their money last out. ‘Yep. I made him buy me a load of shopping at Sainsbury’s last weekend, then told him I couldn’t see him no more as I felt guilty he had a wife. Gutted he was, even rang me up on Monday crying, but I warned him if he contacts me again I was gonna go round his house and tell his wife everything.’
‘I thought he was quite handsome. He had a fit body,’ Marge said. She had a thing about black men and had been quite jealous when she had first laid eyes on Winston.
‘He had a big black cock, I know that much. Made my bleedin’ eyes water, it did,’ Marlene said, laughing.
‘You must be mad finishing with him.’
‘Didn’t have enough money for me, mate. A Ford worker is hardly gonna keep me in a life of luxury, is he? Especially a married one with three poxy brats.’
‘Don’t look now, but I think that old bloke’s coming over,’ Marge said, nudging her pal.
‘Good afternoon, ladies. I was wondering if you’d allow me the honour of buying you both a drink,’ the man asked, resting his gaze firmly on Marlene.
Marlene smiled. The man was old, short and was certainly no looker, but he reeked of money from his Rolex watch to his shiny leather shoes. Marge had never been backwards in coming forwards. ‘Yes please, mate, we’ll have two large gin and tonics.’
When the man pulled an enormous wad of fifty-pound notes out of his pocket, Marlene’s eyes lit up like beacons. She waited until he walked up to the bar and then turned to her friend. ‘I’m gonna snare this cunt, Marge. Watch and learn, girl.’
Stephanie Crouch was enjoying one of the best days out she had ever had in her life. After Barry had bought her the red sweatshirt, he had insisted on buying her pie and mash for lunch. He’d then bought her a red rose off the flower stall, two drinks in the Needle Gun pub, and UB40’s new single ‘Red Red Wine’, which Stephanie absolutely adored.
‘I’ve had such a fab day, Barry, thanks ever so much,’ she said, joyfully. She had never had a proper boyfriend before, and walking along Roman Road holding Barry’s arm felt that good, she thought she might burst with happiness.
‘The day ain’t over yet, babe. We’re going to meet me old man now.’
‘Is his real name Smasher?’ Stephanie asked, seriously.
Barry laughed. Steph’s naivety was one of the things that endeared her to him so much. ‘Nah. His real name is Barry. I was obviously named after him, but everyone calls him Smasher as he used to be a fighter years ago. He used to smash everyone’s lights out, he did – hence his nickname.’
‘Really?’ Steph exclaimed.
‘Yeah, back in the day he used to fight for money. They were illegal bouts, but he’s proper hard my dad. Only ever lost twice in his life, he did.’
‘So, where’s he going on holiday then?’
‘What you on about?’ Barry asked, bemused.
‘You said he was going away next week,’ Stephanie reminded him.
‘He’s going to prison, Steph, not Butlins. He got caught with a lorry-load of knocked-off TVs,’ Barry said, chuckling.
Feeling a bit stupid, Steph quickly changed the subject. ‘Whaddya wanna do when you leave school, Bal?’
‘I wanna be just like me dad. He’s always wheeled and dealed and he’s loaded. I don’t mind the markets, but I ain’t never gonna work nine to five for some mug who orders me about. I’m clued up enough to get by without all that. What do you wanna do, girl?’
‘I want to get a good job in a bank or an office up town. My typing teacher, Mrs Belson, reckons I’d make a brilliant secretary. I think one day I’d like to run my own business, but not until I’m much older.’
‘A girl with ambition, eh? That’s what I love about you, Steph.’
At the mention of the word love, Stephanie felt her face turn beetroot red and she quickly changed the subject once again. ‘I bet it’s horrible for you starting at a school where you don’t know no one, ain’t it? Have you made friends with any of the boys yet?’
‘Don’t you worry about me. Get on with most people, I do. Anyway, I’ve got a good pal in the year above us. He used to live across the road from me in Bethnal Green and we used to hang around together as kids. Saved me life once, he did, when I was a nipper. I couldn’t swim and I fell into a river. He jumped in and dragged me out.
‘Aah, that’s nice. What’s his name? I might know him.’
‘His name’s Wayne, babe. Wayne Jackman.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Cath had just unscrewed the lid on her and Pam’s Saturday treat, when there was a tap-tap at the front door. Busy cutting up a giant-sized pork and egg pie, Pam turned to her friend. ‘Answer that for me, Cath.’
Cath did as she was told and ran back into the kitchen. ‘It’s the police, Pam. They wanna speak to you, mate.’
Pam immediately thought that one of her girls had had an accident and, ashen-faced, ran to the door with the big knife still in her hand.
‘Whatever’s wrong? Is it my daughter?’ she gabbled, near to tears. The police had turned up on her doorstep like this on the day that her wonderful husband had been killed, and just the sight of the PC brought back terrible memories for her.
‘Do you mind putting that knife down, Mrs Crouch?’ the officer said in a jovial tone.
‘Is it my Steph? Or is it my Angie?’ Pam cried, handing the knife to Cathy who was now standing by her side.
Realizing that Mrs Crouch was becoming very distraught, the young PC held his hands up, palms facing her. ‘Calm down. It’s nothing too serious. Can you just confirm that you have a sister called Linda Tate? And if so, we need confirmation that she lives here with you.’
‘Yeah, Linda lives here. She’s my younger sister. Is she OK? What’s wrong with her?’ Pam asked, in a panic-stricken tone.
The young PC smirked. ‘Nothing, unless you count being extremely drunk. There was a minor incident earlier in the Trades Hall Social Club, Mrs Crouch, and when our officers arrived at the scene, your sister tried to attack the female PC. We had to arrest her, and she will receive a caution for being drunk and disorderly. No charges will be brought against her for the attack on the policewoman, as there was no real harm done.’
Pam gasped. She was mortified. ‘I am so sorry, officer, and I can assure you nothing like this will ever happen again. As you are probably aware, Linda suffers from dwarfism, and because of this she gets drunk very quickly. I shall be having a serious chat with her later, don’t you worry about that. Is she on her way home now?’
‘No. We thought it best to let her sober up a bit first, and then we’ll either get an officer to drive her home or call her a cab. I wouldn’t be too hard on her. Linda has been rather amusing back at the station. She originally gave us her name and address as the Queen Mother who lived at Buckingham Palace.’
Pam was fuming. ‘I’ll give her the Queen Mother when she gets home here, officer. Thank you for being so understanding. Linda’s condition makes life difficult for her at times, if you know what I mean?’
When the officer nodded understandingly and walked back to his colleague who was waiting in the car, Cathy burst out laughing.
‘Don’t laugh, it ain’t funny,’ Pam said, cursing her younger sister under her breath.
‘I’m sorry, mate, but she is a fucking case, your Linda. The Queen Mother, Buckingham Palace. What must the Old Bill have thought of her? And she’s tried to beat up one of ’em.’
Unable to see the humorous side of her sister’s outrageous behaviour, Pam shook her head in despair.
Stephanie Crouch was as quiet as a mouse as she sat down at a table in the Bishop Bonner pub. The knowledge that Barry and Wayne Jackman were pals had left her with a feeling of uneasiness and she didn’t quite know how to handle the situation. She was positive that if Barry found out that she had recently asked Wayne out, he would then finish with her himself.
‘You all right, babe? You’ve gone ever so quiet on me. What’s up?’ Barry asked, handing Angie half a cider and sitting down next to her.
‘Nothing. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all,’ Stephanie fibbed.
Barry could smell a lie a mile off. ‘Is it me dad? I know he comes across as a bit intimidating, but he’s such a top geezer when you get to know him, Steph. He was only winding you up when he took the piss out of your ripped jeans. He didn’t mean it nastily.’
Glancing over at the bar where Smasher Franklin was standing with his pals, Stephanie managed a weak smile. Barry’s dad had looked daunting to begin with. He was tall, had enormous muscles, a squashed nose and three scars plastered across his weather-beaten face, but he’d won Steph over immediately with his wit and charm.
‘I really liked your dad. He is so funny, Barry, and I wish I had a dad like him. Mine died when I was little and I never really knew him at all.’
Chuffed to bits that the introduction had gone so well, Barry leant towards Steph and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Now we’re together, he’ll sort of be your dad an’ all, won’t he? You’re always gonna be my girl, Steph.’
Looking at the intensity in Barry’s eyes, Stephanie’s heart was filled with happiness, but also dread. Asking Wayne Jackman out could prove to be the biggest mistake of her life, and if it ruined her relationship with Barry, she would never forgive herself for being such an idiot.
After spending most of the day entwined in a variety of sexual positions, Wayne and Angela were now sitting at the entrance to The Mall on Heathway Hill, drinking a bottle of cider.
‘This is boring sitting ’ere, I feel like a kid. Let’s go down the Princess Bowl, eh?’ Wayne suggested.
The Princess Bowl was where Angela had first met Wayne, but because so many kids from their school hung about there, now she and Wayne were actually together, Angie was worried about being seen there with him. One day, when she was older, she would tell Wayne that she had lied about her age, but she didn’t want it coming out just yet.
‘I like it when it’s just me and you, Jacko. All your mates will be down the bowling alley and I’ll be bored if you’re talking to them.’
Wayne sighed. He liked Angie, but her childishness did his head in at times. If she wasn’t such a good shag, he would have probably dumped her by now.
Over in South London, Marlene Franklin was sitting in a Chinese restaurant in Bermondsey, having a whale of a time with the gentleman she had met in the pub earlier.
‘So why do people call you Jake the Snake then?’ Marlene asked, giggling. She rarely had the opportunity to drink herself senseless on expensive champagne, so had been indulging herself in the stuff, big time.
Jake Chaplin was a short, unattractive, pointy-nosed, fifty-two-year old South London villain. He was an extremely clever fraudster and had made plenty of money over the years by selling gullible people properties and timeshares that had ceased to exist. Clicking his fingers to indicate to the waiter that he required yet another bottle of champagne, Jake grinned at Marlene.
‘People call me Jake the Snake because I’m as slippery as a boa constrictor. Slithered out of many a difficult situation over the years, I have, Marlene. I’m a very clever man, darling.’ When Jake laughed out loud and lit up yet another cigarette, Marlene ignored his awful yellow teeth, his weaselly looking face, and his spindly, nicotine-stained hands. All she saw was money and a ticket out of Dagenham.
‘Do you think Marge will be all right with your mate?’ Marlene asked, pretending to be concerned. She knew Marge would be all right if she spent the night with the entire England rugby squad.
Jake chuckled. ‘They don’t call my mate Donkey Dave for nothing, you know. I’m sure he’ll show your friend Marge a good time, if you know what I mean?’
Fluttering her eyelashes and pouting seductively at Jake, Marlene squeezed his bony hand. ‘And what about you? Do you know how to treat a lady?’
Jake the Snake licked his thin lips in pure anticipation. He’d never struggled pulling women, because of who he was, but it had been a good few years since he had pulled one as pretty and young as Marlene. Looking lovingly into her eyes, Jake grinned. ‘Tomorrow, my dear, you and I are going shopping. I will spoil you something rotten, and if you treat me kindly in return, I can guarantee that you will never want for anything ever again in your entire life.’
Leaning forward, Marlene locked lips with Jake. When his tongue entered her mouth, for a split second she felt physically sick, but instead of showing her repulsion, Marlene responded by kissing Jake passionately. Shutting her eyes, Marlene pretended she was kissing her screen idol, Mel Gibson – that’s what she always did when she got intimate with a man she didn’t fancy.
‘You are so beautiful, Marlene,’ Jake said, as their kiss came to an end.
Marlene grinned. Jake was in her clutches already and this was one snake that she was not going to let slither out of her grasp.
Back in Dagenham, Angela was trying to find out more about Wayne’s life. ‘So, what’s it like going to a football match? When are West Ham playing at home next?’ she asked, genuinely interested. Angie knew nothing about football whatsoever, but decided because Wayne was so passionate about it, if they were going to be together forever, perhaps she should start learning.
‘It’s wicked, babe. Me, Potter and Cooksie are in a firm called the ICF. We’ve had many a scrap, especially when we go to away games. Well hard, we are,’ Wayne bragged.
‘Do you fight people?’
‘Yeah, we fight the supporters of other teams. The firm’s run by some older geezers and they’re all casuals, like us. Well cool they are, and proper organized. We wanted to hang about with ’em ages ago, but I think they thought we were too young. They’ve accepted us now, though – they call us the young ICF.’
Angela was perplexed. She’d always thought football was about kicking a ball around a pitch, not brawling. ‘Can I come to the next game with you, Jacko?’
Wayne burst out laughing. In his opinion, birds and football were as unsuited as a dog shagging a cat. About to answer Angela’s awkward request as diplomatically as he could, Wayne heard someone call his name.
Spotting his two best pals jogging towards him, Wayne quickly stood up and brushed any dirt off his turquoise Lacoste tracksuit.
‘What you doin’ hanging about here, you wanker?’ Cooksie asked him, laughing.
Leaning against the wall, Wayne grabbed hold of his groin area, nodded towards Angela and chuckled. ‘She’s worn me out, lads. Had a bit of a marathon sesh earlier, and I’m shattered. Where yous two been?’
Potter showed Wayne the inside of his carrier bag. ‘Dalston, got meself a new pair of Kickers in red.’
‘Sweet,’ Wayne replied, studying the boots.
‘Do you wanna come round Danno’s with us? He’s got a free house for the weekend and is having a bit of a piss-up,’ Cooksie suggested.
‘Yeah, why not. You coming Ange? We’re going round Danno’s.’
Thrilled that Wayne had invited her, Angela stood up. ‘Who’s Danno?’ she asked, casually.
‘Danno’s in our year at school. You won’t know him, he goes Priory.’
Relieved that Danno didn’t go to Parsloes Manor, the school that she had pretended to go to, Angela grinned. She knew none of the lads in the fifth year at Priory, so knew her secret would be safe. ‘Come on then. What we waiting for?’ she said.
Barry Franklin waited until they got off at Dagenham Heathway before confronting Stephanie. ‘Look, babe, you’ve hardly said a word to me all the way home and I know something’s up. You might as well just tell me what’s wrong. Don’t you wanna go out with me any more or something? ’Cause if you don’t I’d rather you just be honest with me.’
Barry’s words made Stephanie feel all emotional inside and she knew she had no choice other than to come clean. Surely it was better to tell Barry the truth herself than let him hear it from Wayne Jackman’s sarcastic mouth.
‘I do wanna be with you, Bal, it’s not that. You’re gonna finish with me when I tell you what it is, I know you will.’
Aware that his girlfriend was seconds away from bursting into tears, Barry held her in his arms. ‘No matter what it is, I will never finish with you, babe. I like you far too much to do that, so just tell me what’s bothering you.’
‘It’s Wayne Jackman. I asked him out just before I met you and I made myself look a right div an’ all. I didn’t really like him, not like I like you, I swear I didn’t,’ Stephanie said, fearfully.
Barry Franklin burst out laughing. ‘I know you asked Jacko out, he told me what happened. Is that it? I ain’t bothered about that. I’m just glad he knocked you back, ’cause you wouldn’t be with me otherwise, would you?’
Stephanie was astonished by Barry’s calmness over her confession. ‘What, so you don’t mind? I thought you would dump me when you found out. That’s why I’ve been so quiet since you said you were friends with him.’
Tilting Stephanie’s chin towards him, Barry wiped the tears from her eyes with the cuff of his jumper. ‘Jacko’s OK, you don’t know him like I do. It’s all about us now, girl. Sod anyone else and the past. It’s only me and you that matters.’
As Barry leant towards her and kissed her properly for the very first time, Stephanie Crouch truly felt that she was the luckiest girl in the world.
Angela Crouch was thoroughly enjoying herself around at Danno’s house. Apart from the host and Wayne and his pals, there were eight other boys there, and Angela was extremely aware that at least six of them couldn’t take their eyes off her beauty. There were only two other girls at the house and Angela was relieved that they were both overweight and also quite ugly. From a very early age, Angela had always craved to be the centre of attention, and tonight she most certainly was.
‘Sit down. You’re making a show of yourself,’ Wayne said, grabbing Angela’s arm to stop her from dancing seductively to Culture Club’s ‘Karma Chameleon’.
‘No I’m not! I’m just enjoying meself and you’re only jealous because you know all your mates fancy me,’ Angela said, confidently. Seconds later, the self-satisfied smirk was wiped off Angela’s face as Tanya MacKenzie, a girl she had always disliked immensely, and who was in the same year as her at school, walked into the room.
‘Let’s go home. I need some fresh air,’ Angela said, grabbing Wayne by the arm.
‘But it’s only nine o’clock. I thought you didn’t have to be in till ten?’
‘I feel a bit sick,’ Angela lied, turning her back on Tanya. She was desperate for Tanya not to spot her.
‘What you doing ’ere, Crouchy? This house belongs to my family and you ain’t welcome.’
‘Come on, Jacko, let’s go,’ Angela pleaded, her voice now frantic.
Tanya MacKenzie was Danno’s cousin, and ever since the day she had first set foot inside Dagenham Priory, she had hated Angela Crouch with a passion. Tanya and Angie were both blessed with pretty faces, and Tanya knew if it wasn’t for Angela being around, she would be the best-looking girl in her year by a mile. Not only that, but Angela was also a bitch and a liar, which had made Tanya despise her all the more.
‘What’s going on? And who’s Crouchy?’ Wayne asked, in bewilderment. Angie had told him her surname was Marshall, so why the bloody hell was Tanya calling his girlfriend Crouchy?
Realizing that Wayne and Angela were an item, Tanya burst out laughing. Ever since Angela had grassed her up to a teacher for writing graffiti on the toilet walls last term, Tanya had yearned for her revenge, and now she was about to get it. She turned to Wayne. ‘I’m calling her Crouchy ’cause that’s her surname. You ain’t going out with her, are you, Jacko? She’s a slag and a liar and I bet she ain’t told you how old she really is, has she?’
As Spandau Ballet’s ‘True’ blasted out of the speakers, humiliation drove Angela to tears. ‘Please, Jacko, let’s go now,’ she begged.
Aware that all his mates were watching the embarrassing confrontation, Wayne was fuming. He grabbed Angela’s shoulders and slammed her against the lounge wall. ‘What’s your real name and how fucking old are you, Ange? Don’t lie to me, ’cause I will kill you if you do.’
When somebody turned the volume on the stereo down, Tanya nudged her mate and walked over to where Wayne and Angela were arguing. ‘Her name’s Angela Crouch and she’s in the second year at Priory. I should know, she’s made my life hell.’
‘Is this fucking true?’ Wayne screamed.
‘I’m so sorry. I was gonna tell you, but I thought you’d pack me up,’ Angela sobbed as she ran from the room.
Desperate to save face in front of all of his mates, Wayne chased after Angela, grabbed her roughly by the arm, and slapped her around the face. ‘You lying fucking bitch. Now, get away from me. I don’t ever wanna see your face again, got it?’ he yelled.
Crushed beyond belief, Angela let out a wounded howl, and ran as fast as she could down the street.
Unaware that another drama was just about to kick off, Pamela Crouch was busy dealing with the one that already had. The police had kindly dropped her sister home half an hour ago and, instead of being apologetic over her unruly behaviour, Linda seemed to think it was all one big joke.
‘It ain’t fucking funny, Linda. Mum must be turning in her grave if she’s looking down and knows you got yourself arrested. It’s ever since you’ve been knocking about with them factory girls, you’ve been acting like a bloody hooligan. I think you should look for another job. You need to find one where you mix with normal women. Bad influence, that mob from the Butterkist are.’
‘No they ain’t! For the first time ever, sis, I’ve actually met people who accept me for being me – and let me tell you, I’m having the time of me bleedin’ life. My friends are blinding and I love each and every one of ’em dearly, so don’t you dare try and spoil things for me. I will never forgive you if you do, and I mean that. And if you keep nagging on at me like Muvver did, I’ll go up that council first thing Monday morning and get meself a place of me own,’ Linda replied.
Huffing and puffing, Pam stood up. ‘Who wants a brew?’ she asked.
‘Yes please,’ Linda said, winking at Cath as Pam left the room. Linda might have a height impediment, but her brain was as good as Margaret Thatcher’s and she certainly knew which buttons to press when it came to her elder sister. Threatening to move out worked like a dream every time, and Linda just wished she had learnt the art of being so cunning when she’d lived with her domineering bloody mother.
When the front door opened and slammed, Pam looked up from her tea-making duties. ‘Angie, get your arse down here,’ she shouted, as her sobbing daughter bolted straight up the stairs.
‘What’s wrong with Madam?’ Linda asked, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge door to hunt for some chocolate.
‘Christ knows! Go up and see if she’s all right for me,’ Pam replied. She’d had enough stress for one day to last her a lifetime.
‘No chance,’ Linda said, bluntly. She adored her eldest niece Stephanie, but in Lin’s eyes, Angela was a petulant little mare, and there was no way she was getting involved in the child’s latest fiasco.
About to plead with Linda, Pam was saved from doing so by Stephanie’s arrival home. ‘What’s in that bleedin’ carrier bag?’ Pam asked suspiciously as she clocked her daughter trying to hide the bag behind her back.
‘Just a sweatshirt,’ Stephanie said, as casually as she could. She could hardly tell her mum that the old slapper’s son who lived across the road had bought it for her. Her mother would have a fit.
‘You ain’t nicked it, have you? Where did you get it from?’ Pam asked, bluntly.
‘Romford Market and I bought it out me pocket money, if you must know,’ Steph replied, stroppily.
Swallowing her daughter’s lie, Pam raised her eyes towards the ceiling. ‘Go upstairs and see what’s wrong with your sister. She’s just come in, breaking her heart, she was. You know what she’s like, she won’t tell me sod all – but I ain’t silly, I bet it’s to do with a boy.’
Relieved that her lie had been believed, Stephanie shot straight up the stairs. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Angela had the covers over her head, but Steph could still hear her sobbing like a baby.
‘Go away. Leave me alone,’ Angela screamed.
The girls slept in single beds either end of the room, and Stephanie knew if she didn’t sort this particular drama out now and Jacko had dumped Angie, her sister would make her life hell for weeks to come. Sitting down on the edge of Angela’s bed, Steph comfortingly put an arm across her body. ‘I knew he’d find out your age sooner or later, sis. It was only a matter of time,’ she said in an understanding voice. ‘I told you to tell him the truth before someone else did, didn’t I?’
Angela was not only heartbroken, but also bloody seething. Not only had she lost the love of her life and been humiliated by Tanya MacKenzie, but she now had her know-it-all, patronizing sister to contend with as well. Unable to admit that she should have listened to Stephanie’s advice about admitting her age, Angela leapt out of the bed like a banshee. ‘Jacko never found out my age. It ain’t what you think it is, OK?’ she shrieked.
Stephanie was used to her younger sister being an actress – she’d grown up with her tantrums – but as Angie’s body began to shake uncontrollably and her sobs echoed against the walls of the bedroom, Stephanie started to become seriously concerned. ‘Whatever’s happened? You can tell me, Ange,’ she said, holding her distraught sister in her arms.
Rocking to and fro, Angela clung to Stephanie’s chest. She was good at lying and needed some sympathy. Also, if Steph thought she was going to get her hands on Wayne now, she had another think coming.
‘Has Jacko done something bad to you, Ange?’ Stephanie asked. She had tears in her own eyes now, such was her sister’s distress.
Angela was racking her brain for the perfect answer and, remembering the fantastic sex she and Wayne had experienced earlier, she could only think of one thing to say. ‘If I tell you, you must promise never to tell Mum or anyone else.’
‘I swear I won’t tell a soul,’ Stephanie promised.
‘Jacko forced me to have sex with him. He raped me, Steph.’
CHAPTER SIX
After spending all day Sunday consoling and caring for her sexually abused younger sister, Stephanie headed off to school on the Monday morning like a bull in a china shop. She’d left an hour earlier for two reasons: one because she needed Tammy’s advice, and secondly because she’d wanted to avoid Barry. Seeing Tammy standing outside the Church Elm fish bar, Stephanie ran towards her.
‘Why the early meet? You ain’t done it with him, have you? And why didn’t you come round yesterday? We were meant to be going down Dagenham Sunday Market,’ Tammy asked, slightly annoyed that her pal had let her down.
‘Let’s go to a café. We can’t talk here,’ Steph said, grabbing her pal’s arm.
Five minutes later, the girls were sitting in the café on Heathway Hill nursing a mug of tea each.
‘What’s a matter, Steph? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Is it Barry? Did he do something to you when you went out with him the other day? If he’s upset you, I’ll have his guts for garters, mate.’
‘It’s not Barry. I had a fab day out with him, the best ever.’
‘Well, what’s wrong then?’
‘It’s Angie.’
Tammy had little time at all for her best friend’s younger sister. In her eyes, Angela was an extremely nasty piece of work, but Tammy had learned to be diplomatic about her for Steph’s sake. ‘What’s she done now?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Leaning forwards so that the workmen sitting on the next table couldn’t hear what she had to say, Stephanie explained everything that Angela had told her.
Tammy listened intently, but couldn’t help but be sceptical. ‘You sure she’s telling the truth, mate? I don’t wanna slag your sister off, but you know what a liar she can be. What about when she told you that poor old man who lived across the road had touched her and it turned out she’d made it up ’cause he’d caught her nicking the milk off his doorstep and she knew he’d tell your muvver.’
Remembering the incident with the old man who used to live across the road, Stephanie shrugged. ‘Yeah, but when my mum went to confront the old man, Angela admitted she was lying, didn’t she? She was only about eight when she said that and I’m sure she ain’t lying about Jacko. She was in a proper state yesterday, Tam. That’s why I couldn’t come to the market with you. She ain’t even gone to school today. I begged her to let me tell Mum or ring the police, but that just made her even more hysterical. I’ve gotta say something to Jacko. He ain’t getting away with this. At least if I let him know that I know, he won’t go near Angie ever again. I’ll threaten the bastard and tell him if he goes within fifty yards of her, I’ll tell the police everything.’
‘Jacko might be a flash wanker, Steph, but he don’t look like no rapist to me. How do you know that Ange and him didn’t just get drunk and have sex? I mean, she lied about her age to him, didn’t she?’
Annoyed that her best friend was questioning Angela’s morals instead of backing her, Stephanie gave her what for. ‘If this happened to your sister, I wouldn’t call her a liar. Wayne Jackman is gonna get a piece of my mind at lunchtime and if you don’t wanna back me up, then I’ll do it on my own.’
Adoring Stephanie more than anyone else in the world, Tammy squeezed her hand. ‘I can’t stand Jacko anyway, he’s such an immature prick, and of course I’ll back you up. What are mates for, eh?’
Barry Franklin couldn’t concentrate on anything his history teacher, Mr Holst, was banging on about. Steph had been meant to meet him yesterday evening, yet she hadn’t turned up and Barry was desperate to know why. Glancing across the classroom at her, Barry chucked his exercise book down on the desk in frustration. He thought their date on Saturday had gone really well, and he was sick of racking his brains trying to work out what he’d done so bloody wrong. He’d left for school early this morning and had hung about on the corner of the street for half an hour, smoking fag after fag and waiting for Steph. He knew she must have avoided him somehow. But he needed to know why.
Relieved when the bell rang to signal lunchtime, Barry flew out of his seat and grabbed Steph by the arm as she made for the corridor. ‘What have I done wrong? Why you avoiding me?’ he asked, accusingly.
‘It’s not you. Look, I can’t talk now because there’s something I’ve gotta do. Wait for me after school and I’ll tell you about it then,’ Steph replied.
Noticing the tears in Stephanie’s eyes, Barry ignored the sniggers from some of his classmates and pulled his girlfriend into his arms. ‘If someone’s hurt you, I’ll fucking kill ’em. Tell me what’s wrong and let me deal with it.’
‘No one’s hurt her, Bal. She just needs to sort something out, that’s all. She ain’t doing it alone, I’m going with her,’ Tammy said in an abrupt tone. Barry had only known Steph for what her mother would call ‘five bloody minutes’ and if he thought he was taking her best mate away from her by giving it Mr Macho, he had another think coming.
Not wanting to overstep his newfound boyfriend role, Barry held his hands up in a posture of surrender. ‘OK. I’m off to grab some lunch and I’ll catch up with you after school.’
Marlene Franklin was in her element as she showed her friend Marge the expensive clothes that Jake the Snake had bought her the previous day.
‘Fucking hell, Mar! I love that fur jacket, how much was that?’
‘Five an’ a half – and see them shoes? They were over a oner. He took me to Harrods. Fuckin’ Harrods, can you believe it? I think I’m in love.’
Marge burst out laughing. She knew that Marlene always put a pound note above good looks, but Jake the Snake was so vulgar, he actually abused the privilege of being ugly.
‘Have you shagged him yet? Aw, Mar, I don’t mean to laugh, but he is fucking ugly, ain’t he? He reminds me of a bald version of that actor who played Fagin in Oliver Twist, what was his name?’
Ignoring Marge’s nasty jibe, Marlene debated whether to tell her that she had sucked Jake the Snake’s rather flaccid little penis the previous night, but she quickly decided against it. What was the point? Marge would only take the piss and Marlene knew only too well how ugly some of the men who Marge had slept with were.
‘You do make me laugh, mate. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Anyway, enough about me. What happened with you and Donkey Dave?’
‘Dirty bastard, he was. A right fucking pervert. Shagged me up the jacksie all night and then shoved a bottle up me fanny in the morning.’
Marlene laughed. Marge was pure filth in the bedroom department, so for her to call Donkey Dave a pervert was more than enough proof that he must have been bad. ‘So, you seeing him again?’ Marlene asked.
‘No I ain’t! Walking like John fucking Wayne I am. I’m sure he’s done some internal damage to me. Sod that for a game of soldiers. What about you? I take it you’re seeing Fagin again?’
Trying on her fur coat once more, Marlene turned to face her friend. She truly believed she was Marilyn reincarnated, which was why she was forever using her famous film quotes. This time she used the Sugar Cane one out of Some Like It Hot. ‘“Real diamonds. They must be worth their weight in gold”,’ she drawled, before reverting back to her cockney accent. ‘Yes, Marge, of course I’m gonna bleedin’ see Fagin again. Not only that, if he proposes, I shall marry the old bastard.’
Wayne Jackman was a creature of habit and Stephanie knew that he and his pals always spent their dinner times at the same chip shop where they would play on the fruit machine. ‘He’s not ’ere yet. Let’s wait by the alley, so we can jump out and surprise him before he gets to the chippy. I don’t want the whole world to hear what I’ve got to say. Ange will kill me if she finds out I’ve said something to Jacko. She made me promise on Mum’s life that I wouldn’t, but I crossed my fingers behind me back,’ Stephanie said.
‘He’s coming now, Steph. Potter and Cooksie are with him. You ain’t gonna say nothing in front of his mates, are you? Shall I call him over?’ Tammy asked, feeling slightly edgy.
Staring at Wayne Jackman sauntering down the road like he owned it, Stephanie felt her blood start to boil. He was laughing and joking with his mates like he didn’t have a care in the world, while her poor sister was sitting at home, distraught and scarred for life. Unable to control her temper for one moment longer, Stephanie ran towards him. ‘Oi Jacko! I wanna word with you, you fucking pervert.’
Potter and Cooksie immediately started to laugh.
‘You ain’t still got the hump ’cause I knocked you back, have ya?’ Wayne asked, cockily. He still hadn’t put two and two together with the Crouch surname and had no idea that Stephanie and Angela were actually related.
‘You fucking wanker! I know what you did to my sister, you scumbag. Do your friends know you’re a rapist? Well, do they?’ Steph shouted.
As realization crept in that Stephanie was Angela’s sister, Wayne’s face whitened and his usual brash persona wilted like a flower that had just been trampled on by hobnail boots. ‘I never raped your sister. She was all over me like a rash and I would never have gone near her in the first place if she hadn’t lied about her age.’
‘You raped her! She told me you raped her,’ Stephanie screamed.
Aware that a crowd had started to gather, Wayne grabbed Stephanie by the arm and dragged her towards the nearby alleyway. ‘You stay there. This is between me and her,’ he told Cooksie and Potter.
‘You ain’t taking my mate nowhere where I ain’t going,’ Tammy said, supportively.
‘Well, best you listen to what I’ve gotta say an’ all then, Tampax,’ Wayne hissed. He pushed Stephanie against the stone wall, and with his eyes glinting dangerously, gave her a piece of his mind. ‘If you weren’t dating my old mate, Bazza, I swear I would knock you out for embarrassing me like you just have. How dare you call me a rapist? Your sister told me she was fifteen and she was well up for it, if you know what I mean?’
‘So why did she dump you then? Why did she come home in such a state on Saturday if you never did anything wrong?’ Steph screamed, accusingly.
‘Because I took her round Danny MacKenzie’s house and his cousin Tanya was there. She’s in the same year as your fucking sister and she told me who she was and her real age. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Danno or Tanya what happened – or Potter and Cooksie, they were there an’ all.’
Stephanie felt her face start to redden. ‘I’m only going by what my sister told me and she swears you raped her.’
‘Leave it now, mate. Let’s go, eh?’ Tammy urged her pal. She was positive Wayne was telling the truth.
Determined to have the last say, Stephanie pointed her forefinger into Wayne’s smarmy face. ‘If you ever go near my sister again, I’m gonna call the police and tell ’em what you did to her. Understand?’
Wayne grabbed Stephanie’s finger and bent it backwards. ‘You better shut your mouth, Crouchy, before I shut it for you. I never did anything to your lying slag of a sister that she didn’t want me to do, got it? And if you ever call me, or tell anyone I’m a rapist ever again, I will fucking kill you and that sister of yours. I’m a member of the ICF so, if I was you, I’d watch your back.’
Aware that if she didn’t drag Stephanie away, things were about to get very ugly indeed, Tammy grabbed her friend by the arm and virtually dragged her down the road.
‘You think Angie’s lying, don’t you?’ Steph asked, near to tears.
‘Steph, you told me this morning in the café that Angie had told you that Jacko still thought she was fifteen. He obviously doesn’t, so someone’s telling porkies, mate.’
Stephanie turned to her pal. ‘I’m gonna check out Jacko’s story, and if I find out that he’s telling me the truth and Angie’s lying, I swear I’m gonna rip her head off.’
Pamela Crouch scuttled home from work as fast as her heavy-sized frame would carry her. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on her job in the bakery today, as she knew that there was something wrong with her daughters. All day yesterday, Stephanie and Angela had been holed up in their bedroom. They’d barely touched the nice roast-lamb dinner she’d cooked, and when she tried to enquire what was wrong, both girls had virtually bitten her head off. Pam wasn’t stupid. She knew this latest drama was more to do with Angie than Steph, but she also knew it must be serious, as Angela had flatly refused to go to school this morning by feigning a migraine.
‘Pam! Pam!’
Hearing her name called, Pam turned around and waved at her friend Cathy.
‘Jesus wept! Been shouting your name for the past five minutes. You gone mutt and jeff or summink?’
‘Sorry, mate. In a world of me own. Murders, I had with them girls of mine yesterday, and what with Lin being arrested an’ all, I dunno if I’m coming or bleedin’ going.’
‘Have you seen Marlene’s new man yet?’ Cathy asked, excitedly.
‘No. What’s this one like?’ Pam asked, nearly dropping her bag of leftovers from the bakery in shock. Pam always brought home any cakes, pasties, pies or sandwiches that were due to the thrown away. It helped her make ends meet.
‘He turned up yesterday morning in a big flash silver Jaguar. Old boy, he was, but he looked like he had a few bob. The old slapper was done up to the nines when she ran outside to greet him. Then they snogged in full view of the whole street. She’s got no decorum whatsoever that woman. I mean, it weren’t five minutes ago she had that black man round there.’
‘Well I never!’ Pam exclaimed. ‘I feel sorry for that son of hers, you know. What an environment to bring a young boy up in.’
‘Lairy Mary was telling me about that son of hers. She reckons he’s a nice kid, but is a proper Arthur Daley in the making, just like his father was. A right little wide boy he is, by all accounts. Works as a look-out for a fly pitcher down Roman Road Market and is as cunning as a fox, Mary said.’
By the time she reached the front gate, Pam felt a whole lot better. Her girls might have their faults, but at least they were normal kids. Children like Marlene’s stood no chance in life.
With the help of Barry, Stephanie managed to check Jacko’s story out straight after school, and within seconds of confronting Danno and then his younger cousin, Tanya, Steph realized that not only had she made a right mug of herself, but that Jacko’s version of events was actually true.
‘No disrespect, but your sister is an out-and-out liar and a bitch. Everyone in our year hates her and she tells fibs about just everyone and everything,’ Tanya informed Steph, bluntly.
Walking home with Barry by her side, Stephanie felt incredibly stupid. ‘I don’t like Jacko, Bal, and I probably never will, but I feel terrible about calling him a rapist. Will you apologize to him for me? I can’t face saying sorry to him meself.’
Barry put a supportive arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. He hadn’t yet set eyes on Steph’s younger sister, Angela, but he already sensed that the girl was a wrong ’un. He’d met one or two similar girls when he’d lived in Bethnal Green, and he could sniff out a vindictive personality a mile off. To accuse somebody of rape when it was anything but, was appalling in Barry’s eyes, and he knew if and when he met Angela, he would hate her on sight. ‘I actually think you should apologize to Jacko yourself. Trust me, Steph, when you get to know him, he’s proper and, seeing as he saved my life, I’d really like yous two to get along. I know he can be a mouthy prick at times, but he weren’t like that when we lived in Bethnal Green. I think he larges it in front of them pricks, Potter and Cooksie. Give Jacko a chance, please – for my sake.’
‘But I feel such a div. Not only have I accused him of being a nonce, but it weren’t long ago that I asked him out meself. He must think I’m a right loony.’
Barry grinned. Jacko had told him what had happened between him and Steph at lunchtime and Barry was pleased that he’d managed to sort things out for his girlfriend so quickly. ‘You and Jacko will get along just fine, trust me on that one, and the only reason you asked him out was because you hadn’t then met me. Let’s just say he was the next best thing, eh?’
Stephanie smiled. ‘I’d better walk the rest of the way on me own now. We don’t wanna get caught out, do we? Not only that, I’ve gotta get back and deal with Angie. I ain’t letting her get away with this one, Bal. I’ve always been soft with her, but this time, she’s gone one step too far.’
‘Are you gonna tell your mum what she said about Jacko?’ Barry asked.
‘Nah. If I do that she’ll probably grass me up about seeing you.’
Desperate to share a kiss with his girlfriend, Barry leant towards her.
‘Don’t! I’m frightened someone might see us,’ Stephanie said, glancing up and down the road.
Barry sighed. He knew Steph was only concerned about being seen with him because of who his mother was, and already the situation had started to piss him off a bit. ‘Look, I know my mum’s a bit of a girl, but she’s no Myra Hindley. Why don’t you just tell your mum you’re seeing me? It will make things so much easier in the long run,’ he suggested.
‘Look, I must go now, but I’ll meet you in the morning on the corner of Ford Road and we’ll walk to school together. I do really like you, Bal, so please don’t think that I don’t,’ Steph said, avoiding his awkward question.
Unable to stop himself, Barry grabbed his girlfriend around the waist, pulled her towards him and kissed her passionately. Pulling away, he winked at Steph. ‘And I like you, girl. Probably more than you’ll ever know.’
Pamela Crouch was absolutely seething. For months her Angela had been harping on about dying her hair blond, and today, when she was supposed to be ill, Pam had arrived home to find that her daughter had disobeyed her orders and now had a mop of frizzy hair that resembled a low-class prostitute.
‘Where did you get the money from, Angela? I know you had no pocket money left and I had two pound notes in my purse this morning and one has miraculously disappeared. If it ain’t bad enough you’ve gone behind my back and done something I forbade you to do, you’ve been stealing off me as well, ain’t ya?’
About to deny the accusation, Angela welcomed the distraction of her sister arriving home. ‘Mum reckons I’ve stolen money out of her purse, Steph. Tell her I ain’t. I borrowed a pound off you, didn’t I?’ she lied.
After the day she’d had at school, Stephanie couldn’t help but lose it with her little sister. ‘You’re a liar, Ange. I never lent you a penny, and not only that, you lied about Jacko an’ all, didn’t you?’
‘Who’s Jacko?’ Pam asked, perplexed.
Angela stared at her sister with a look of pure hatred on her face. Steph had promised not to divulge her secret to anyone and she had obviously been making herself busy. ‘You bitch! I told you to keep your mouth shut,’ Angela screamed, as she flew at Stephanie.
‘Stop it! Stop it!’ Pam yelled, as a full-scale argument began.
‘She told me she’d been raped, Mum. She’s an evil, wicked liar,’ Stephanie shouted, as her sister tried to drag her around the room by her hair.
Pam knew that her girls had always bickered, but she had never seen them as bad as this before. ‘I said, stop it,’ she yelled, barging her way into the ruckus, while trying to pull them apart.
Angela took a deep breath when her mum made her sit on one side of the lounge and Stephanie on the other. If her humiliation over the Jacko episode hadn’t been bad enough, her sister had made it a whole lot worse by opening her big mouth at school and snitching on her to her mum.
‘Now, what’s going on? And what’s all this about a rape? Don’t lie to me, the pair of you, because if you do, I’ll have your guts for garters,’ Pam shouted.
Angela knew that there was only one way to worm herself out of this difficult situation and that was to turn the tables.
‘Can I just say something first please, Mum?’ she asked, in a childlike, innocent-sounding voice.
‘Go on, but don’t you dare lie to me, Angela,’ Pam replied, in a threatening tone.
Smirking at her sister, Angela turned back to her mother. ‘You know that old slapper over the road, Mum. Stephanie’s going out with her son.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Angela’s revelation left Pam temporarily dumbstruck, but suddenly she found her voice again. ‘This had better not be true, young lady. If I find out you’ve been within one hundred yards of that old slapper’s son, you’re grounded for life.’
‘It ain’t me you wanna be worrying about, it’s her. At least I ain’t been having sex with boys and then accusing ’em of raping me,’ Stephanie screamed. She was furious that her sister had betrayed her trust.
‘You lying bitch! I ain’t never had sex with anyone, Mum, I swear I ain’t,’ Angela yelled.
Pam felt physically sick. Angela had only just turned thirteen years old, and the idea of some boy taking advantage of her innocence was almost unthinkable. ‘Who is this boy?’ Pam asked Angela.
‘He’s no one. I just liked some boy, that was all, and pretended to Steph that I was going out with him. He’s fifteen, Mum. As if he’s gonna go out with some silly kid like me. I only told Steph ’cause I wanted to see if I could trust her not to tell you. It was a test and she’s failed it.’
‘You are such a wicked liar. I can prove it, Mum. Wayne Jackman thought Angie was fifteen ’cause that’s what she told him and she pretended that she went to Parsloes Manor. She also told him that Dad was still alive and he beats her up.’
When Angela leapt off her chair and flew at her sister again, Pam started to weep. ‘Stop it! Just bloody stop it,’ she screamed, grabbing Angela around the neck.
‘I hate you,’ Angela spat at Steph, as her mum bundled her into the hallway.
‘Get up them stairs now. And you’re going back to school in the morning, young lady. Taking no more of your crap, I ain’t.’
When Angela ran up the stairs sobbing, Pam marched back into the lounge. ‘So, have you been knocking about with that old slapper’s son? And don’t lie to me ’cause I’ll find out the truth,’ she told Steph.
Unlike her sister, Stephanie was not a good liar, so decided it would be in her best interest to come clean. ‘Barry’s lovely, Mum. He’s nothing like Marlene. He’s the complete opposite and he is so kind to me.’
Pam was furious. ‘You are not seeing that boy again, do you understand me? I’ll be the laughing stock of the street if anyone finds out you’ve been knocking about with Marlene’s son. Ain’t you got no respect for yourself? You silly little mare.’
‘Me have respect for myself! What about Angie? At least I ain’t done nothing with Barry. At least I don’t have sex with boys.’
‘Your sister has just turned bloody thirteen. She hasn’t had sex with anyone yet. She makes these stories up to try and impress you. As for your behaviour, disgusted I am, Steph, and you’re grounded until further notice. No more going out gallivanting until I know I can trust you again.’
‘But I ain’t done nothing wrong,’ Stephanie cried out.
‘That’ll be for me to decide. Now get upstairs and say sorry to your sister. I’ve got enough on me plate without yous two at one another’s throats. I’ve given the pair of you far too much leeway and now it’s all going to stop.’
When her mum walked into the kitchen, Stephanie let out a huge, racking sob.
Barry Franklin stood on the corner of Ford Road the following morning. Within seconds of spotting Steph walking towards him, he just knew that there was something wrong. ‘What’s up, babe?’ he asked, genuinely concerned.
‘Everything. I had a big row with Angie and then she grassed me up to Mum. She told her that me and you were going out together and me mum went mad. I’m grounded now. I ain’t allowed out no more,’ Steph explained, her eyes welling up with frustration.
‘Don’t worry. We’ll still find a way to see one another. What about if I have a word with your mum? I’m sure if she meets me, and realizes I’m no monster, she’ll change her tune.’
‘No! That will just make things worse. I wouldn’t mind but Angie ain’t even been grounded. If she hadn’t had sex with Jacko and then cried rape, none of this would have happened.’
Barry held his tearful girlfriend in his arms. ‘I’m gonna jib school today and shoot up to Bethnal Green again. My dad’s trial starts on Wednesday and he’s having a going-away bash in the Bishop Bonner. Jacko’s coming with me, I’m meeting him at the Heathway. He remembers me dad well and he ain’t seen him for yonks.’
Stephanie looked at her boyfriend in dismay. The thought of being near Barry all day at school was the only thing that had got her out of bed this morning, and now he wasn’t even going to be there. ‘Can I come with you?’
‘Course you can. But what about your mum? Say she finds out you ain’t gone to school. I don’t want to get you into even more trouble.’
Furious with her mother for siding with her sister rather than her, Stephanie shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Bollocks to my mum. I’m coming with you, Bal.’
Unaware that her sister had decided to play truant, Angela Crouch had to suffer the humiliation of facing Tanya MacKenzie again.
‘Look, girls. The silly slag’s dyed her hair blond so we don’t recognize her. How’s Jacko, Crouchie? Seen him lately, have ya?’ Tanya asked, gloating.
Instead of retaliating like she usually would, Angela held her head high and, with her nose in the air, walked past Tanya and her childish mates. She was still gutted that she and Wayne weren’t together, but after spending two days moping about and crying, Angie had now decided it was time to move on. Wayne Jackman might be as fit as a butcher’s dog, but he wasn’t the only fit boy in the world and, with her stunning beauty, Angie was confident that she could get virtually any boy she wanted.
‘Why weren’t you at school yesterday? Was it because of Jacko? I heard what happened. That slut Tanya’s told half the school,’ Chloe asked, catching up with her friend.
Angela smiled. Chloe was her only true mate, but even though they were close, Angela had no intention of admitting how devastated she’d been over the Jacko saga. ‘I had a sore throat yesterday, so me mum told me to stay home,’ she lied.
‘So, has Jacko packed you up now? That’s what Tanya’s been telling everyone.’
‘No one’s packed no one up. I just don’t wanna go out with Jacko no more. He’s a bit boring, to be honest,’ Angie replied, untruthfully.
Chloe linked arms with her pal. ‘You’ll never guess who’s asked me out?’
‘Who?’
‘Darren O’Brien, and Dal reckons that his older brother Jason fancies you.’
Angela Crouch could barely believe her luck. Jason O’Brien was in the year above her and Chloe. Not only was he extremely hot, but Angie knew for a fact that Tanya MacKenzie had recently got one of her mates to ask him out for her, and he’d said no.
‘I’ll go out with Jason. Arrange it for me,’ Angela said, her eyes shining with glee. Her mum had always said that when one door shuts, another one opens and Angie couldn’t help but think what a wise mother she had.
The atmosphere between Stephanie and Wayne was somewhat icy on the train journey, but by the time they’d had a few drinks in the pub, the frostiness had all but thawed.
‘I always knew yous two would get along just fine. Can’t have me best mate and me bird hating one another, can I now?’ Barry said, happily.
Stephanie looked at her boyfriend and raised her eyebrows. ‘So how come this pub is open at ten o’clock in the morning then? I didn’t think pubs opened till lunchtime,’ she remarked, changing the subject. She had been ultra-polite to Wayne for Barry’s sake, but she still wasn’t sure of him.
‘Pubs open whenever you want ’em to in this neck of the woods, especially if you’re loaded like my dad is. This boozer’s owned by a famous footballer, you know,’ Barry informed her.
‘Really! Where is he?’ Stephanie asked, expecting to see the man in question serving behind the bar.
Wayne and Barry both chuckled. ‘He don’t bloody work here. He plays for Tottenham and his family run the pub for him,’ Barry explained.
‘What’s his name then?’ Stephanie enquired. She didn’t know the first thing about footballers, but was hoping it was Glenn Hoddle because she knew who he was and thought he was lush.
‘His name’s Steve Archibald. Look, I’m just gonna have a quiet word with me dad outside. Yous two will be all right for a bit on your own, won’t ya?’ Barry asked.
Glancing at one another, Wayne and Stephanie both nodded. When Barry walked away, Stephanie felt her earlier awkwardness suddenly return and, not knowing what to say, stared at her glass of cider.
Wanting to put things right between them, it was Wayne who decided to say something first. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about what happened with your sister, Steph. I swear I wouldn’t have gone out with her if I’d known her proper age. She told me she was fifteen, I swear she did.’
‘That’s OK,’ Stephanie replied, meaning it. The way she felt at the moment, she hated her bloody sister, and any trouble Angie might have got herself into was all her own doing, nobody else’s.
‘I’m also sorry about the way I spoke to you an’ all, and your mate, Tammy,’ Wayne said, honestly.
‘Don’t worry about it. We all say silly things at times, me included. I’m sorry for calling you a rapist,’ Stephanie said, feeling incredibly stupid.
Sensing that Steph felt a bit embarrassed, Wayne grinned at her. ‘Don’t worry about that either. I’ve been called a lot worse things in me time. I’ll get us another drink, shall I? What do you want, another half of cider?’
Stephanie nodded and studied Wayne as he sauntered up to the bar. His bark seemed far worse than his bite all of a sudden.
‘There you go,’ Wayne said, handing Stephanie her drink. He sat back down opposite her and raised his pint glass. ‘To new beginnings, eh?’
Stephanie smiled. ‘To new beginnings.’
Angela Crouch spent the entire maths class doodling on the cover of her exercise book. Angela loves Wayne had now been scrubbed out completely and had been replaced by Angela + Jason with a love heart surrounding it. As the bell rang for lunchtime, Angie grabbed Chloe’s arm. ‘Where do Darren and Jason go at lunchtime?’ she asked her friend.
‘I don’t think they hang about together at school. Darren goes to the tucky, I think, then goes round Gel Parker’s house. He only lives in Ridgewell Close.’
‘Well, let’s go to the tucky. I want to ask him if Jason wants to go out with me myself.’
Chloe nodded then, arm in arm, the girls walked giggling towards the tuck shop.
‘There’s Jason. Look!’ Angela squealed, excitedly. Unlike Wayne Jackman, who was blond, lean and tall, Jason O’Brien was dark-haired, stocky and short. He was quite handsome, though, and in Angela’s eyes looked a bit like George Michael.
‘Go and talk to him then,’ Chloe urged her pal.
Jason was standing on the corner of School Road, smoking a cigarette. He had two pals with him, neither of whom Angela knew.
‘I can’t go over there while he’s with his mates. You go and speak to him, Chloe. Tell him to meet me outside the tucky in five minutes and I’ll talk to him there.’
Knowing how headstrong her friend could be, Chloe knew she would never hear the last of it if she didn’t comply with Angela’s orders.
‘Wait till I’m out of sight,’ Angela hissed, as Chloe went to march straight over to the boys.
As Angie half ran towards the tuck shop, she came face to face with Tanya MacKenzie and her smarmy-faced sidekicks.
‘Excuse me, please,’ Angela said politely, as they tried to block the pavement to stop her from getting past them.
‘If you’re looking for Jacko, don’t bother, ’cause he’s got a new girlfriend now. Really pretty, ain’t she, girls?’ Tanya hollered, urging the fellow members of her four-strong gang to join in with her torment.
‘Yeah, well pretty she is, and she’s sixteen,’ piped up Sharon Jones, Tanya’s best friend.
‘I ain’t bothered. I’ve got a new boyfriend myself,’ Angela replied, determined to wipe the self-satisfied smile off Tanya MacKenzie’s face.
‘You all right, mate?’ Chloe asked, appearing by Angela’s side.
‘No, she ain’t all right. She’s off her head if she thinks we believe she’s got a new boyfriend. We know what a liar she is,’ Tanya said, laughing.
‘Well, for your information, Angie ain’t lying. She’s going out with Jason O’Brien if you must know,’ Chloe replied.
Tanya MacKenzie stood open-mouthed. For the past eight months she had been besotted with Jason O’Brien’s dazzling good looks, and had recently plucked up the courage to ask him out. Jason had said no, and Tanya was sure he had only knocked her back because she was in the year lower than his, so how could he now be going out with Angela bloody Crouch?
‘You’re lying. You’re only saying that ’cause you’ve heard that I like Jason. You keep your hands off of him, Crouchie, do you hear me?’ Tanya spat.
Seconds later, as if by magic, Jason O’Brien walked around the corner and made a beeline for Angela.
‘Do you fancy coming to the chippy with me?’ he asked, grinning at her.
Clocking the look of jealousy on Tanya’s face, Angela smirked. ‘Yes, I’d love to, Jase.’
Stephanie Crouch had had such a brilliant day out with Barry and Wayne that she felt no guilt at all about bunking off school. Unlike her sister, Steph had never played hooky before, and she knew if she forged a letter in her mum’s handwriting, none of the teachers would bat an eyelid.
‘You enjoyed yourself today, babe?’ Barry asked, as they stood on the platform at Mile End station waiting for the District Line train.
‘Yeah, I’ve had a fab day. Why did Jacko shoot off?’
‘Jacko wanted to see some old pals while he was in the manor,’ Barry replied.
He waited for the commuters to get off, then led Stephanie over to two empty seats in the corner. ‘Jacko and me are both cut from the same cloth, babe – that’s why I have so much time for him. He’s a go-getter, just like I am. I mean, one day me and you might have kids and stuff and you want the best for ’em, don’t you? I dunno about you, but I don’t wanna be stuck in Dagenham for the rest of my life, or Bethnal Green for that matter. I plan to buy a big house in a posh area and then, one day, when I do have kids, I wanna give them all the stuff that I never had.’
Sort of understanding what Barry meant, Stephanie beamed from ear to ear. Barry must obviously really like her if he was mentioning them having kids one day. ‘That’s what I want too,’ she gushed.
Much to the disgust of the two old ladies sitting opposite, Barry kissed Steph passionately.
‘Bloody disgusting! No wonder our birth-control rate is going mad in this country,’ one of the old ladies said to the other.
Totally besotted with one another, Barry and Stephanie carried on kissing as though they were the only two people on the train.
‘Why don’t we jib school tomorrow an’ all? Me mum’s going away for a week with her new bloke. She’s going to Spain and is sodding off first thing in the morning. Me sister won’t be about tomorrow either, ’cause her bloke’s coming out of nick and they’re having a do for him round at his brother’s house. It might be the only day we can have the house all to ourselves. What do you say?’
Stephanie felt her stomach immediately tie itself up in knots. She liked Barry, really liked him, but she wouldn’t be fifteen until another few months, and certainly wasn’t ready to take their relationship to another level yet.
‘What’s up?’ Barry asked, noticing her reluctance to answer his question.
‘I dunno. I suppose I’m just worried if someone catches me coming in or out of your house and I’m worried about the other stuff. You know?’
‘What other stuff? All we’re gonna do is drink, smoke and play music. I’ll never make you do anything you don’t wanna do, babe.’
The two old women tutted and stared at one another. ‘To think my Albert died in the war for kids like these,’ the fatter lady whispered to the other.
‘Well, if it’s just for a beer, fags and some music, yeah why not?’ Steph agreed, grinning.
Barry squeezed Stephanie’s hand and stared intently into her eyes. ‘That’s my girl.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pamela Crouch was not in the best of moods. She had spent the whole of the previous night sitting up in Oldchurch Hospital’s A&E department, and was so tired, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go into work today.
‘I’m sorry, Pam,’ Linda said, as they finally left the hospital and got into a cab.
‘I should hope you bloody well are! Six hours I’ve just sat up that poxy place. I mean, whatever possessed you to walk home alone, Lin? You know if you’re pissed and you fall over, unless you’re with someone you can’t get back up again.’
‘The cab firm I use only had two drivers on and the man on the phone said I’d have to wait an hour. Anyway, I weren’t that pissed. I just tripped over on a bit of uneven pavement,’ Linda fibbed.
‘Don’t you start lying to me an’ all, Lin. I’ve got enough on me plate with them two deceitful daughters of mine forever telling me porkies, without you insulting my intelligence an’ all. I ain’t bloody stupid. Even the nurse told me you’d had a skinful. You’ll have a pickled liver if you carry on at the rate you’re going. I mean, you’re out on the piss every night. It ain’t normal.’
‘I’m sure I only go out a lot now because I was stuck indoors for all them years with Mum. I’m just trying to make up for lost time, I suppose,’ Linda explained.
Pam squeezed her younger sister’s hand. ‘Just promise me you’ll either get a cab home or get one of your mates to walk back with you in future. If that man hadn’t found you lying on the pavement, you could have bleedin’ stayed there all night and died of hypothermia.’
‘I won’t do it again, I promise. So, how are the girls? Are they talking again yet?’ she asked, sensibly changing the subject.
Pam shook her head sadly. Since their argument at the weekend, her daughters hadn’t spoken a single word to one another, and the looks of hatred flying between them were breaking Pam’s heart.
‘What about that Marlene’s boy? Has Steph seen him any more, do you think?’
Pam shrugged. ‘I can’t stop her seeing him at school, can I? All I can do is make her come straight home after school, not let her out at weekends, and hope it will just fizzle out. Cath knows, obviously, but apart from you I’ve told no one else, so make sure you don’t tell anyone either. I know your mouth’s as big as the Blackwall Tunnel when you’re pissed.’
‘Speak of the devil,’ Linda said, as the cab driver turned into their street.
Pam stared out of the window. Marlene was wearing skintight black shiny Lycra leggings and an in-your-face zebra-print top. The new boyfriend was putting a suitcase in the back of his posh Jaguar and Marlene was hugging her pregnant daughter by the gate. Pam paid the cab driver, then urged her sister to get out of the taxi.
‘Why don’t you go and have a word with her? Just tell her to keep her son away from our Steph. I’ll say something to her if you like?’
Pam shook her head. She had never been one for confrontation, especially in full view of the street. Seeing the boyfriend go back into the house and come out with another case, Pam pushed Linda up the path.
‘Let’s just hope that she’s bought a one-way ticket to wherever she’s going and is taking that bastard son of hers with her,’ Pam said.
Hearing laughter and chatting outside in the street, Angela Crouch lifted the curtain up and stared out of the window. She smirked as she laid eyes on Barry Franklin for the very first time. He had a dark diamond-patterned Pringle jumper on, pale grey tracksuit bottoms and white trainers.
‘He’s proper horny and well out of your league. You have no chance of holding onto him,’ Angie said to Steph, nastily.
Stephanie sighed. She hated falling out with her sister. ‘Let’s stop all this silliness and make up, shall we? Mum’s worried about us and it’s so not fair on her. Friends again?’
Ignoring Stephanie’s outstretched hand, Angela smirked. ‘Drop dead, you bitch.’
Relieved when his sister was picked up in a Datsun by her boyfriend’s brother, Barry did his best to tidy up a bit. Both his mum and his sister hated housework and he didn’t want Stephanie to think his family was frowsy. Satisfied that the lounge no longer resembled a bomb site, Barry made two trips upstairs to get his record player and records. He hadn’t wanted to suggest to Steph that they sat in his bedroom, in case she got the wrong end of the stick. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he picked up his front-door key. Stephanie had been so petrified about being seen entering his house that he had arranged to meet her in the alleyway down Ford Road. Feeling a tingly feeling inside his stomach, Barry picked up his carrier bag and, grinning like a Cheshire cat, sprinted down the road.
Angela met her friend Chloe at their usual spot and, arm in arm, they walked to school discussing their love lives.
‘So, do you really like Jason then? Or, do you just wanna go out with him to wind Tanya up?’ Chloe enquired.
‘Both! I love winding that bitch Tanya up, but I do really like Jase an’ all. I was looking at pictures of Wham in Smash Hits last night and he so does look like George Michael.’
‘Well, Darren wants us all to go on a double date on Saturday. He said we’ll go to Romford, have a mooch round the shops, then go to the pictures. You up for it?’
Angie nodded her head excitedly, then immediately scowled as she saw her sister’s best friend Tammy approaching. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, rudely.
‘I just wanna know where your sister is. She weren’t at school yesterday and I didn’t wanna ring her at home in case your mum answered and I got her in trouble. Is she bunking it? Or is she ill? She never met me this morning, so I take it she ain’t in today either? She did try and ring me late last night, but I was out with me mum.’
Angela grinned from ear to ear. This bit of information was priceless. ‘I think you’ll find she’s bunking off to spend time with the old slapper’s son – and thanks for telling me; I didn’t know.’
‘Don’t say nothing to your mum, will you? Steph would never grass you up if this was the other way round,’ Tammy said, alarmed that she’d just put her foot in it. She could tell by the vicious look of glee on Angela’s face that she would try and use the information to get her sister into trouble.
‘Don’t worry. Cross my heart and hope to die, I won’t say nothing to me mum,’ Angela said, smirking at Chloe and doing a cross sign across her chest with her right hand.
‘You should grass the bitch up,’ Chloe said as Tammy walked away.
‘Oh, I’m gonna. My mum had a right go at me over me hair again this morning. She said if I don’t dye it back to brown by next weekend then I ain’t allowed to go out. Wait till she hears about her blue-eyed girl bunking off school to spend time with Barry. My hair will be the last of her problems. She’ll go apeshit,’ Angela cackled.
Chloe laughed. ‘You gonna tell her as soon as you get in from school? Why don’t we go down the baker’s where your mum works at lunchtime and we can tell her together?’
‘She ain’t gone to work today. Anyway, I’ve got a better plan.’
‘What?’ Chloe asked, excitedly.
‘I’m gonna go and see Mr Jones at lunchtime. I’ll tell him that she’s bunking off, then he can tell me mum. That way, Steph won’t know that I’ve dobbed her in the shit.’
Chloe Martin stared at her best pal in awe. Angela Crouch was so clever and such a wicked schemer. ‘That’s brilliant, Ange! Totally brilliant.’
Oblivious to the fact that her sister was planning to grass her up, Steph was in a panic over something completely different.
‘All right, babe? Sorry I’m a bit late. I wanted to tidy up a bit before you came round. My muvver would never win an award for cleaning and my sister is such a messy cow,’ Barry explained.
‘We can’t go back to your house. We’re gonna have to go somewhere else,’ Stephanie said in an agitated voice.
‘Why? I told you all we’re gonna do is have a few bevvies, a smoke and play some records,’ Barry replied, dismayed by Stephanie’s sudden change of heart. Didn’t she trust him or something?
‘It’s not that. My mum ain’t gone to work today. Me aunt fell over pissed last night and my mum got a phone call at one o’clock this morning. There is no way I can chance coming back to yours while she’s at home. If she catches me, she’ll kill me and you both.’
‘I’ve bought me mum’s leopard-skin jacket with me and the black hat she wears for funerals. Surely she won’t recognize you in those? She’ll just think it’s me old girl.’
Stephanie shook her head. ‘My mum saw your mum going away this morning. She ain’t stupid, Bal, and I can’t take the chance of being caught out.’
Putting his thinking cap on, Barry came up with a plan. ‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll climb over the fence on the corner of the road and get to mine via the back gardens. The back ain’t locked, so we’ll go in that way.’
‘But say someone sees us in their back gardens?’
Barry laughed. ‘I’ll wear me muvver’s coat and you wear her hat. No one will recognize us. Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?’
Stephanie giggled and grabbed Barry by the hand. ‘Come on then, let’s do it.’
With Chloe by her side, Angela ran up the long alleyway that led from the lower to the upper school. She and Chloe had arranged to meet Jason and Darren outside the chip shop so they could eat lunch together and she hoped she could find Mr Jones quickly.
‘Slow down. I’ve got a stitch,’ Chloe complained, holding her side.
‘You’ll have to keep running else we’ll be late to meet the boys. I hope I don’t bump into bloody Jacko,’ Angela mumbled, out of breath herself.
Once inside the upper school entrance, Angela slowed down as she spotted Mrs Belson, Stephanie’s typing teacher. ‘Excuse me, where’s Mr Jones?’ she panted.
‘Probably in the staff room, my dear. Best not to disturb him while he’s eating his lunch,’ Mrs Belson replied sensibly.
Ignoring the teacher’s advice, Angela grabbed Chloe’s arm and headed towards the staff room. Mr Jones had a reputation amongst the older children for being rather unapproachable and a bit of an ogre, but Angela didn’t really know him, therefore wasn’t scared at all. As bold as brass, Angela knocked on the staff-room door.
‘Is Mr Jones there, please?’ she asked a male teacher she had never seen before.
‘He’s having his break at the moment. You’ll have to come back after lunch,’ the teacher told her.
‘I can’t come back after lunch and it’s very important,’ Angela replied, obstinately.
‘Wait there,’ the teacher said, shutting the door again.
Mr Jones was a rather tall man with a booming voice and a Basil Fawlty-esque walk and physique about him. ‘Yes. Make it quick,’ he snapped, as he closed the staff-room door behind him.
‘Hello sir. My name is Angela Crouch and my sister Stephanie is in form 4P. Because I’m so worried about her, I didn’t know who else to speak to apart from you, as I know you’re her head of year,’ Angela said, in a butter-wouldn’t-melt voice.
‘I know Stephanie. What is wrong with her?’
‘There’s a new boy in her class. His name is Barry Franklin and Steph has been bunking off school to spend time with him. I know how important these last two years at school are for her, and I would hate to see her mess her exams up because she has fallen for some stupid boy.’
Chloe wanted to burst out laughing, but instead joined in the fun. ‘Angela loves her sister dearly, Mr Jones, so she was wondering if you could speak to her mum. Ange don’t wanna be seen to be a snitch, do you, Ange?’
‘No, sir,’ Angela replied, desperately trying to keep a straight face.
‘OK, I will contact your mother this afternoon. And yes, you are right. Your sister is a bright girl, and she would be silly to throw all that away over some lad.’
‘Thank you, Mr Jones, and can you keep my name out of it, please?’
Nodding his head, Mr Jones excused himself and went back inside the staff room.
Roaring with uncontrollable laughter, Angela and Chloe ran down the corridor and out through the school gates.
After her earlier reluctance to set foot inside Barry’s house, Stephanie Crouch was now completely at ease and thoroughly enjoying herself.
‘You look so pretty today, babe,’ Barry stated, as he lit them both a cigarette and topped Steph’s drink up.
Stephanie grinned. She had worn the red off-the-shoulder sweatshirt that Barry had bought her at Roman Road Market. Teamed with tight faded jeans, big hoop earrings and the make-up she’d applied in the alleyway earlier, Steph was quite happy with the finished result.
‘Weren’t it funny climbing over them fences earlier? What about when you got your foot caught?’ she said, giggling.
Barry raised his eyebrows. He’d felt a right wilf when he had taken a tumble in front of his girlfriend, but could now see the funny side.
‘So, why don’t you like cider? Have you just never liked the taste?’ Steph asked, when Barry cracked open another can of lager.
‘I used to like it, but got pissed on it at a mate’s party when I first started drinking. Ill for days, I was, and the taste of it now just makes me feel sick,’ Barry admitted.
‘You big girl’s blouse,’ Steph said, chuckling.
‘What did you call me?’ Barry joked, clambering on top of Steph and pinning her arms to the dirt-stained carpet.
‘Get off me,’ Steph snapped, pretending to be angry.
Barry silenced her by snogging her passionately. This was the first time they had ever kissed where he had been lying on top of her, and he immediately felt himself becoming aroused.
Stephanie responded to the sweet taste of his gentle mouth but, as soon as she felt the hardness of his penis poking into her thigh, she froze. Stephanie had been quite a late starter with boys compared to her sister and some of the other girls in her year at school. Apart from Barry, she had only ever kissed two others properly, and she had never gone any further than that.
‘You OK?’ Barry asked.
‘Yeah. Can I put some more music on now? The record’s stopped,’ Steph replied, desperate to get away from the feel of her boyfriend’s rock-hard penis. Part of her wanted to see it and touch it, but she would be far too nervous to do so in case she did something wrong.
‘I’m just going a toilet,’ Barry said, as he bolted out of the room like a racehorse. His hard-on was sticking out like a flagpole in his loose-fitting tracksuit bottoms and he was embarrassed to let Stephanie see it in all its glory. He could tell how edgy and inexperienced she was, and even though he had been sexually active for the past year or so himself, he didn’t want to put his new girlfriend under any pressure, or make her feel uncomfortable in any way.
Stephanie sorted through Barry’s record collection. She had noticed the big bulge in his tracksuit bottoms when he had darted out of the room and was relieved to see it had disappeared on his return.
‘Can I put some Spandau Ballet on?’ she asked him.
Barry nodded and lit up another two cigarettes. ‘Tell me more about your family, Steph. I’ve heard you mention your aunt lives with you, but I haven’t seen her yet. Is she your mum’s sister?’
Stephanie sat on the sofa next to Barry and felt contented as she snuggled up against his chest. She told him all about Linda and made him laugh over her love for alcohol and some of the hilarious stunts she had pulled. ‘I think my mum worries about our Lin more than she does about me and me sister. No wonder she’s started to find grey hairs on her head.’
Barry chuckled. ‘She sounds a right case, your aunt. I’ll have to meet her one day – you know, when me and you are out in the open.’
‘I reckon my mum will still be wanting me to be single when I’m twenty-one. Does my head in, she does,’ Steph joked.
‘You shouldn’t be too hard on your mum. She only worries because she cares about you and she loves you. My mum has never worried about me or my sister. She just tends to think about herself.’
‘So, what’s this new boyfriend of your mum’s like, then? Whereabouts they gone on holiday?’
‘His name’s Jake and he’s short, old and loaded. He’s taken her to Spain, but I dunno whereabouts, she didn’t say.’
‘So, has she gone for a week? Or two?’ Steph asked.
‘Supposedly a week, but you never know with my muvver. About two years back she was seeing this geezer called Quiet John. They called him that ’cause he was a right loudmouth bastard. He took her to Spain an’ all. She left me and me sister indoors in our old house on our own. She only left us a score for food and then didn’t come back for a month. She fell in love with a waiter while she was out there, dumped Quiet John and stayed out there on her own for three weeks.’
‘Oh my God! What did you and your sister do? Did you go and live with your dad, or what?’ Steph asked, appalled. All of a sudden her own mother seemed like the best in the world.
‘Me dad was in nick at the time, but me and Chantelle got by. We both had to go out thieving just to make ends meet and a few of our old neighbours cooked us dinners and stuff. We couldn’t tell ’em where mum actually was, though. Me and Chantelle were worried that they’d tell the Old Bill and we’d get put in care. Mum weren’t that popular in Bethnal Green either, you see. The neighbours would have loved to have seen her banged up for abandoning us. They all liked me and me sister, though. I think they felt sorry for the pair of us.’
‘Poor you,’ Stephanie said, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s neck.
As Spandau Ballet’s ‘True’ started to play, Barry stood up, grabbed Steph’s hands and pulled her off the sofa. ‘Let’s have our first dance together, shall we?’ he said, laughing.
Stephanie grinned when Barry began singing the words to her. ‘You’ve got a great voice and I really love this record,’ she whispered in his ear.
Barry stared intently into his girlfriend’s eyes. ‘And I really love you, Steph. One day, me and you will get married and, when we are, we’ll dance to this as the first song at our wedding. Deal?’
Feeling a happiness inside her heart that she had never felt in her life before, Stephanie was stunned. Unable to answer Barry’s question because her voice seemed to have deserted her, she smiled and nodded at the same time. For the first time in her young life, Stephanie Crouch was completely and hopelessly in love.
Pamela Crouch’s right hand shook like she had a bad case of the DTs as she put the phone back on its receiver. ‘Oh, Cath. I’m at my wits’ end, I really am,’ she shouted, as her friend let herself in the house.
‘Whatever’s the matter? Is it Lin? Have they taken her back into the hospital again?’ Cath asked, alarmed.
‘No, Lin’s upstairs asleep. It’s my Stephanie. She’s been bunking off school to spend time with that old slapper’s son. I’ve just had her head of year on the phone. She ain’t been in today or yesterday. I’m gonna kill her, Cath. I will march her into that school of a morning and wait outside and walk home with her if I have to. Say she’s in his house now? They could be up to anything. I’m going over there. I’ll murder that little bastard if he’s laid one finger on my baby, I swear I will.’
Cathy had never seen her best friend in such a distressed state. ‘Calm down, and whatever you do, don’t do nothing rash. Good job I treated us to a bottle of Liebfraumilch from the offie. I thought you might fancy a glass because of the performance you had with Lin last night. You go and sit in the lounge and keep an eye on the house while I pour us a glass. We can have a drink and discuss things properly.’
Pam walked over to the window and stared at Marlene’s house. Marlene had recently replaced the sheets she’d had up at the windows with what looked like cheap heavy curtains, but they were always closed as she had no nets up. ‘What am I gonna do, Cath?’ she asked her friend.
Cathy handed her pal her drink, then sat down on the sofa and sipped her own. ‘Do you want my honest opinion?’
Pam nodded.
‘The more you try and stop Steph seeing that boy, the more she’s gonna want to see him. If you hadn’t forbade her to have contact with him, and grounded her, she wouldn’t be bunking off school, would she?’
‘So, what you trying to say? That it’s my fault?’ Pam asked, in a narky tone.
‘I’m only being truthful with you, Pam, so don’t get your knickers in a twist with me for trying to bleedin’ help you. I know you don’t want your Steph seeing that boy and I don’t blame you, but they’re only kids and it will soon fizzle out if you just let ’em get on with it.’
‘What’s going on? Can I have a glass of that wine?’ Linda asked, walking into the lounge still half asleep, with her dressing gown on.
‘No you bleedin’ well can’t! If you’re thirsty go and make yourself a brew. You’ve only just woken up, for Christ’s sake,’ Pam said.
‘I’ll make one in a minute. What’s up?’ Lin enquired, raising her eyebrows at Cathy.
Cathy explained all that had happened and her opinion on the matter.
Linda listened intently, then turned to Pam. ‘I think Cath’s spot on. By stopping Steph from seeing this boy, you’re just pushing her away. You need to just let it run its course. I bet you any money you like, if you allow them to see one another, it’ll all be over within six weeks.’
‘But how can I? I mean, didn’t you say Lairy Mary said he was a right cocky little bastard?’ Pam asked Cathy.
Cathy laughed. ‘How can Mary call anyone cocky when her own nickname’s Lairy? Means the same thing, don’t it? Actually, Mary popped in the café again yesterday, and ’cause I knew you were worried about Steph, I asked her some more questions. She was actually quite complimentary about the boy. Said he was a rough diamond, but had a heart of gold. She said he was streets above that mother and sister of his. She reckons the sister is a complete wrong ’un, just like her mother.’
‘What should I do then? I mean, I can’t let Steph carry on seeing him if I haven’t met him. I need to see and speak to the lad before I agree to anything.’
‘Invite him over for tea or something?’ Lin suggested.
‘I’ll make sure I’m here with you if you feel awkward. I mean, if the mother’s pissed off on holiday and left the boy alone, you’ve got the perfect chance to get to know him without involving that old slapper, ain’t you?’ Cathy said.
Pam sighed. ‘I suppose I’m just gonna have to take your advice, mate. I’ll let Steph see the boy and hope and pray it’s all over before it started. If it don’t work, we’ll have to think of a Plan B, ’cause as God’s my judge I would rather commit murder than watch my daughter end up with Marlene as a mother-in-law. My life I would.’
CHAPTER NINE
Angela Crouch skipped home from school as happy as a dog with two tails. Getting revenge on her bitch of a sister felt like the best feeling in the world and she couldn’t wait to experience first hand the repercussions of her little chat with Mr Jones. Another reason why Angela was feeling so ecstatic was because she had just had her first snog with Jason O’Brien. He was a much better kisser than Jacko had been, and she had felt Jason’s rock-hard penis rubbing against her thigh. Having now experienced sex in the raw, Angela decided she was rather partial to it and she couldn’t wait to have her wicked way with her new boyfriend. Wayne Jackman was history now, but he had been a learning curve in Angela’s life and she was determined to use the skills he had taught her to keep Jason interested in her.
Angela let herself in with her key and was surprised to see her mum, aunt and neighbour Cathy, sitting in the lounge sipping wine. ‘Bit early, ain’t it? Turning into right alkies, yous lot are,’ she said, giggling.
‘Cheeky little mare,’ Cathy mumbled under her breath. She was no big fan of Pam’s youngest daughter.
‘After the day I’ve had, I deserve a crate of bleedin’ wine, I dunno about a glass,’ Pam said, defending herself. Up until recently, she and Cath had only had a bottle of wine between them on a Saturday evening; now it seemed to be at least two or three nights a week because their lives seemed so bloody stressful at the moment. Cathy’s son had moved in with his wayward girlfriend and Pam had never been so worried about her girls in all her life.
Angela smirked. If her mother had had a bad day, it obviously meant she had already spoken to Mr Jones. ‘Where’s Steph? She not home from school yet?’ she asked, innocently.
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Now go upstairs and get washed and changed. We’re all eating dinner at the table this evening. Me, you and your sister need to have a nice little chat,’ Pam replied in a stern tone.
‘What am I meant to have done wrong now?’ Angie asked, pretending to be annoyed.
‘It ain’t you, it’s your sister. Now do as your mum says,’ Linda urged her niece.
Cock-a-hoop that her vicious little plan had worked, Angela ran up the stairs with a big smile on her face.
Stephanie giggled as she and Barry climbed over the last fence. ‘I can’t believe we’ve trampled on everyone’s gardens. I hope no one saw us,’ she said to her boyfriend.
‘I wish you didn’t have to go home yet. Can’t you sneak back over when it’s dark again?’
Stephanie shook her head. ‘I’m still grounded, I think. It’s more than me life’s worth to get caught tiptoeing over to your house.’
Barry put his arms around Stephanie. ‘Why don’t we skip school for the rest of the week? My sister will be out and about with her bloke, so we should have the place to ourselves. We might as well make the most of it while me mum’s away and, if you’re gonna forge a note, you might as well write one for being off for a whole week rather than just two days.’
Seeing a woman walking along the street with a bag of shopping, Stephanie ducked out of Barry’s arms in case the woman knew her mum. She was truly tempted to have the rest of the week off school, but knew that by doing so, she was asking to get caught. ‘I’d better not have no more time off, Bal. I ain’t even spoken to Tammy yet – say she rings my house and puts her foot in it or something?’
‘Ring her as soon as you get in. Please Steph, my old man’s up in court tomorrow and I really don’t wanna be sitting in a classroom worrying about him. I wanna be with you.’
Feeling desperately sorry for her boyfriend for having such a tough family life, Stephanie looked into his soulful eyes and melted. How could she say no when his dad was about to be banged up? ‘OK. I’ll meet you same time, same place.’
Hearing the front door slam, Angela Crouch bolted down the stairs like a whippet. She had no intention of missing one second of her stuck-up sister getting the scolding of her life.
‘All right, sis? How was school?’ she asked, chirpily.
Steph eyed her little sister suspiciously. Angela had never asked her how her day at school had gone before, even when they were on good terms. Steph could see by the evil glint in Angie’s eyes that she knew that she had been playing truant. About to plead with her sister to keep her big mouth shut, Steph was stopped from doing so by her mother marching into the hallway.
‘Get your arse up them stairs and freshen yourself up before dinner. You and I are gonna have a nice long chat, young lady. In fact, we’re all gonna have a nice long chat, because I ain’t having this family going off the rails.’
Feeling anxious, Stephanie ran up the stairs. Angela had obviously grassed her up, which would put paid to her spending the rest of the week with Barry, but at least nobody knew she had spent the day with him at the old slapper’s house. Her mother would have strangled her as soon as she had walked through the front door if she’d known that.
Desperate to speak to Tammy, Steph kicked herself for not coming home a bit later and using a phone box. There was only one phone indoors. It was downstairs, and Steph knew she wouldn’t be able to speak properly with her mum and sister earwigging. Taking a deep breath, Steph looked into the mirror and smiled. Barry Franklin had told her he loved her today, and nothing that her mother said to her could mar the happiness she currently felt inside.
Usually, Pam and the girls ate their dinner sitting in front of the TV with a tray on their laps, but wanting to eat and chat like a proper family for once, Pam set the dining table. Cathy was staying for dinner as well and Lin would be there, too – it was unusual for Linda to even be in at meal times, as she usually finished work and went straight to the pub.
Angela was the first to sit down at the table. ‘What we got for dinner then, Mum?’ she enquired. She couldn’t wait to watch her sister squirm, and just knew she was going to enjoy this meal whatever old crap her mum decided to serve up.
Knowing what a fussy little mare her youngest daughter could be, Pam immediately went on the defensive. ‘Minced beef hotpot and don’t you dare start whinging and saying you want something else, ’cause I ain’t in the bloody mood today, Angela.’
When the phone rang, Lin answered it immediately. ‘Steph, Tammy’s on the phone,’ she shouted out.
Stephanie bounded down the stairs, snatched the phone out of her aunt’s hand and dragged the lead into the hallway.
‘Can you talk?’ Tammy asked.
‘Not really,’ Steph replied. The kitchen and the lounge opened off the hallway and her mum was no more than ten feet away from her, serving the dinner up.
‘I thought I’d better warn you, I think I might have put my foot in it with your sister today. I asked her why you hadn’t been at school and I could tell by her reaction that she didn’t know. I’m really sorry, Steph. I know what a bitch Angie can be, but I made her swear on her life that she wouldn’t tell your mum.’
Stephanie was feeling more confused by the minute. Something was wrong. The house had had a strange kind of atmosphere about it when she’d first come home, but her mum had just smiled at her, so perhaps Angela hadn’t opened her big gob after all. ‘Don’t worry about it, mate,’ Steph whispered.
‘Have you been spending time with Barry? Will you be in school tomorrow?’ Tammy asked.
‘Yes, and I dunno. Listen, I’ve gotta go, Tam, me dinner’s ready I think.’
‘If you ain’t at school tomorrow, try and ring me from somewhere else. I’m dying to hear all the goss,’ Tammy said. School just wasn’t the same without her best pal by her side. She was beginning to wish that Steph had never met Barry bloody Franklin, as she felt she was losing her friend.
‘Will do. Bye Tam,’ Steph replied.
‘So, why are we all sitting at the table, Mum? Is this a special occasion or something?’ Angela asked innocently, when her sister sat down between Cathy and Linda.
‘Eat your dinner first and then me and yous girls will have a nice little chat afterwards,’ Pam replied, quite calmly.
Stephanie locked eyes with her sister, then stared at her plate. She wasn’t at all hungry. She felt far too loved-up to eat, but knew if she didn’t try and force her dinner down her gullet, her mum would go apeshit.
‘I can’t eat no more, but that was lovely, Mum,’ Angela lied a few minutes later. She was a bit worried that her mum kept saying she wanted a chat with both her and Steph, and Angie really hoped Mr Jones hadn’t dobbed her in the shit.
‘I’ve had enough as well, Mum,’ Stephanie mumbled. She wanted to know what was wrong, as the waiting to find out was doing her head in.
Seeing her mother leave her own dinner, Stephanie began to feel more nervous than ever. Her mother usually ate like a horse; if her appetite had deserted her, perhaps she was seriously ill or something. She might have that terrible disease, cancer. One of her friend’s mums at school had just died from that. ‘Are you ill, Mum? Please tell me what this is all about? Because you’re really worrying me now.’
Pam took a gulp of her wine and stared at her deceitful eldest daughter. ‘The only thing that is making me ill is the worry over you and that boy. I know you’ve been bunking off school to spend time with him, and I’m sure you were in his house today, as I kept seeing the curtains twitch. Now, don’t lie to me, Steph. Were you in that house?’
‘You cow!’ Stephanie spat, glaring at her sister.
‘Now don’t you start blaming her. It was your head of year, Mr Jones, that told me, not Angela. Well, was you with that boy in that old slapper’s house or not?’
‘Just tell your mum the truth, sweetheart,’ Lin urged, squeezing her favourite neice’s hand.
‘Yeah I was, but all we did was play some records. We’ve nowhere else to go, have we? I’m too frightened to be seen with him in case you go off your head, and I only bunked off ’cause you grounded me. I love him, Mum. Barry is the kindest, nicest boy I have ever met in my life and I won’t let you stop me seeing him just because of who his mother is. It ain’t fair,’ Stephanie whinged.
Angela’s smirk was completely wiped off her face as her mother stood up and urged Steph to give her a hug. ‘I need you to promise me that you’ll never play truant again. These last two years at school are your most important and I’ll be so disappointed if you don’t get good marks in your exams, Steph.’
Surprised by her mother being so understanding, Stephanie began to cry. ‘But, what about Barry? How am I meant to concentrate on me school work if I ain’t even allowed to see him? I promise I won’t ever bunk off school again and I’ll work really hard, if you just let me see him sometimes, Mum. Can I see him, please?’
Pam still hated the thought of her beautiful daughter being involved with Marlene’s son, but seeing Cathy smile at her and remembering her friend’s wise words, Pam bit her lip and nodded. ‘I’ll allow you to see him, but only if I can meet him first.’
Angela watched the scene unfolding in front of her in complete and utter disbelief. Her little chat with Mr Jones was meant to have spelt curtains for Steph’s relationship with Barry. Instead, all it had done was enhance it.
‘Can I go and tell Barry now, Mum? Shall I get him to pop over in a bit?’ Steph said, overcome by excitement.
Pam looked at Linda and Cathy.
‘Yeah, sod it. If this lad has you grinning like you are, girl, then we all wanna meet him, don’t we?’ Lin said, winking at Steph.
‘Well, I don’t wanna meet him. All yous lot have done for weeks is stare out the window and slag off the old slapper over the road, so why have we now suddenly gotta be nice to her son? I’m going out! You all make me sick,’ Angela spat venomously, pushing her chair so hard it almost toppled over.
Pam grabbed her youngest daughter’s arm. Mr Jones had let on that Angela was extremely worried about Steph and had spoken to him, and Pam knew that the spoilt little cow had only done it out of spite. She had always been more lenient with Angela, just because she was the baby of the family, but from now on things were about to change. ‘You ain’t going out nowhere, young lady. You’ll sit ’ere with us tonight and be polite to your sister’s boyfriend, and then tomorrow me and you are going up the Heathway to get you a hair dye. As I told you the other day, you ain’t going out to play at all until you dye that hair of yours back to its original colour. Look like a bloody child prostitute, you do.’
Absolutely livid that her mother seemed more bothered about the colour of her hair than Stephanie bunking off school, Angela burst out crying and ran up the stairs. ‘I hate you. I hate you all,’ she screamed.
Hearing the springs on the bed bouncing up and down once again, Barry Franklin turned up the volume on the TV to drown out his sister’s cries of unbridled passion. He had once been really close to Chantelle when they were young, but just lately they seemed to argue like cat and dog. Chantelle despised the fact that he still had a good relationship with his father. She also treated her pregnancy as though she had a serious illness and, since Barry had moved back home, she had expected and screamed at him to wait on her hand and foot. Debating whether to go out and find Jacko, Barry heard the doorbell ring.
‘What you doing ’ere? Get inside quick,’ he urged.
‘You’ll never guess what! Mum wants you to come over to ours,’ Steph said, with a big grin on her face.
‘You winding me up or summink?’ Barry replied, bemused.
Hearing terrible noises coming from up the stairs, Stephanie nodded towards them. ‘What’s going on up there?’
‘It’s me sister and her boyfriend. Doing my head in, the pair of ’em are. Did your mum really say I can come over?’ Barry asked, conveniently changing the subject.
‘Yep, but I’ve had to promise her I won’t bunk off school no more, so I can’t take the rest of the week off,’ Steph explained, apologetically.
‘I must get changed and put some aftershave on. I don’t want your mum to think I’m some tramp. Why did she change her mind, Steph?’
‘I think my bitch of a sister grassed on me, but Mum reckons Mr Jones, our head of year, rang her up. It don’t really matter now. As long as we can be together, that’s all I care about, don’t you?’
Barry nodded. ‘You shoot back home and I’ll be over in about ten minutes, babe.’
Hearing laughter coming from downstairs, Angela Crouch lay on her bed, absolutely seething. She had seen Barry Franklin walk across the road half an hour ago. She had been spying through the curtains, and he looked even fitter close up than he had from a distance.
‘Go away,’ Angela yelled, as she heard a knock on her bedroom door.
Ignoring her daughter’s order, Pam marched in and sat on the edge of Angela’s bed. She stared at her daughter’s pretty, tear-stained face, and her earlier annoyance with her immediately vanished. ‘Don’t sit up here on your own, love. Come downstairs and say hello to Barry, eh?’
Angela sat bolt upright. ‘And why would I wanna say hello to him? What’s next? Gonna invite the old slapper round for tea, are ya?’
Pam spotted a look of jealous hatred on her youngest daughter’s face and, unable to stop herself, gave her a short, sharp slap around it. ‘You, young lady, should be ashamed of yourself. I know it was you that spoke to Mr Jones. He actually believed that you were such a nice young girl, you were frantically worried about your sister. Well, I know differently, but I will never tell Stephanie, because she would be so bloody hurt. That girl has been a good sister to you, and it’s about time you started appreciating all of your family a bit more. You’re rude to Steph, me, and Lin, and its not bloody good enough. It’s my fault, I know that. Since your father died, I’ve always babied you, but I can see now that it’s not done you any favours at all, and things have to change, Angie.’
Angela threw herself into her mother’s chest. ‘I’m so sorry. I will try and be nicer to everyone, I promise I will.’
Pam held her tearful daughter in her arms. She knew deep down that her Angela was a good girl. ‘Please don’t cry. I love you so much, darling.’
‘I promise I’ll dye my hair back to its normal colour tomorrow, and I will say hello to Steph’s boyfriend,’ Angela sobbed.
Pam smiled. She had known that a few sharp words would be the thing to bring Angela back to her senses, and she had been absolutely right. Kissing Angie on the nose, Pam stood up. ‘You dry your eyes, angel, and come downstairs when you’re ready, eh?’
Angela nodded.
As soon as Pam shut the bedroom door, Angela walked over to the mirror, stared at her reflection and smirked. She needed to get back into her mother’s good books; if that meant pretending to like her bitch of a sister, then pretend she would.
CHAPTER TEN
As summer came to an abrupt end and autumn kicked in, Stephanie and Barry’s relationship seemed to go from strength to strength. Steph kept her promise to her mum by attending school regularly and working hard in her lessons, and Pam allowed Steph to spend time with Barry in return.
‘Hurry up, Ange. I’m meant to be meeting Tammy in half hour,’ Steph shouted, banging on the bathroom door. She and her sister were now on speaking terms, but were hardly best buddies.
‘You’re such an impatient cow. You ain’t gonna be here later when Jase comes round, are you?’ Angela shouted, flouncing out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her as though she were the Queen of Sheba. Angela had pestered her mum for weeks to allow her to bring Jason O’Brien home for dinner. ‘It ain’t fair! Barry’s round ’ere all the time and I have to put up with that. How comes Steph’s allowed to bring her boyfriend round and I ain’t? You always side with Steph,’ Angela had whinged only yesterday. Her drama-queen act had worked, and her mother had agreed that Jason O’Brien was now welcome at the house as well. Today he was coming for roast dinner, the first of many, Angela hoped.
‘No. I won’t be here later. Barry’s taking me out for a meal,’ Stephanie said, feeling extremely grown-up. Apart from a regular plate of chips in British Home Stores in Romford, or the odd sit-in at McDonald’s, this would be the first proper meal that Steph had ever been out for without an adult being present.
‘Where you going?’ Angela asked, with a hint of jealousy in her voice. Not only did she think Barry Franklin was far too handsome and entertaining to be dating the likes of her plain, boring sister, the way he treated her also really got Angie’s goat. Barry was forever buying Steph clothes and gifts. Even though Angela was happy with her Jason, she was still narked that her sister was being treated like she was some kind of bloody princess.
‘He’s taking me to Pizza Hut. It’s well ace in there and they have this big posh salad bar,’ Steph said, proudly.
‘What’s that in aid of then? Is it a special occasion?’ Angela asked, desperately trying to keep the spite out of her voice.
Stephanie wasn’t a very good liar, she never had been; so, red-faced, she came clean. ‘It’s Jacko’s sixteenth birthday if you must know. Tammy’s coming with us as well.’
‘Jacko ain’t going out with that pig now, is he?’ Angela asked, bluntly.
‘Tammy ain’t no pig! She is lovely, and no, they are not going out together. Jacko is a much nicer person now he don’t hang about with Potter and Cooksie all the time, and me and Tam get on really well with him now,’ Steph explained.
‘Well, bully for you,’ Angela said, nastily.
Ignoring her sister’s sarcasm, Stephanie wished her a nice day and took her turn in the bathroom.
Over in the East End of London, Barry Franklin was giving it all the spiel. ‘Come on ladies and gentlemen, you can’t beat my prices. Fifty quid in Harrods these little beauties sell for, hand on heart. Now, am I gonna charge you fifty today? No, I’m not. Nor will I charge you forty, or even thirty for that matter. Today, ladies and gentlemen, this state-of-the-art electronic toy is all yours for a tenner.’
‘Be careful, son. The Old Bill are heading this way,’ an old man shouted out.
‘Bollocks,’ Barry mumbled, as he packed the kiddies’ toys into the big grey suitcase and rapidly made his way back to Aldgate East Station. It was just over three weeks now since his mum had disappeared off to Spain and, seeing as she had left him virtually no money, Barry had had to work fly pitching toys down Petticoat Lane Market on a Sunday just to get by. His boss, Steve, had said he could have the bath towels to sell but, because they were so heavy, Barry hadn’t been able to take him up on his offer. Instead, he’d had a word with another pal of his and had been selling knocked-off plastic robots instead.
The train journey back to Dagenham from Aldgate took about thirty-five minutes and, as he usually did, Barry spent his time on the train thinking about Stephanie. Once or twice in the past, Barry had thought he had been in love, but he now knew that he hadn’t. The way Steph made him feel was nothing he had ever experienced in his life before. They had yet to make love, but Barry was sure that she was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Sex wasn’t everything and, even though Barry was gagging to pop Stephanie’s cherry, he was determined not to put pressure on her. He loved her that much, he would wait for years to do the deed if she wanted him to.
Barry’s daydreaming nearly caused him to miss his stop, but he somehow managed to prise the doors open just in time. Suitcase in hand, he jogged home as fast as his heavy load would allow him. He hadn’t had a magnificent day today like he had last Sunday, but he reckoned he’d cleared fifty quid, which was enough to take Steph out and see him through the next few days. Now his sister’s bloke was out of nick, he didn’t have to support her any more and, worse ways, he could always skip school on Thursday and work up Roman Road with Steve. Inserting his key inside the lock, Barry heard the phone ringing. He dashed to answer it in case it was Steph. It wasn’t. It was his mother ringing from a callbox in Spain.
‘How’s my lovely boy?’ Marlene asked when she finally worked out how to put the money in the slot.
Barry was immediately suspicious. He’d only heard from his mum once since she had gone to Spain, and that was to tell him that she had no idea when she would be home. As for calling him lovely, ‘little bastard’ was the nearest thing he’d ever had to a compliment off her in the past. Guessing his mum had split up with Jake the Snake and was now after money for the air fare home, Barry sighed. ‘How much do you need?’ he asked in a sarcastic tone.
‘What do you mean?’ Marlene asked.
‘Money! How much money do you need, Mum? I ain’t got a lot, but I suppose I can get hold of it for you somehow.’
‘I don’t need no money, Barry. And even if I did, I wouldn’t ask you for it, would I? You’re my favourite son, you are.’
About to remind his mum that he was her only son, Barry decided not to bother. The only other reason in the world she could be being nice to him was that she was drunk, so he decided to humour her instead. ‘Nice to hear from you, Mum. I’ve gotta go now as I’m taking me girlfriend out and I’m running a bit late.’
‘But you don’t even know why I’m ringing you yet. What happened at your father’s trial? Did they bang him up?’ Marlene asked, hoping they had.
‘No. The trial ain’t finished yet. Look, what exactly do you want, Mum?’ Barry asked, his patience wearing thin.
‘Me and Jake are flying home tomorrow. Got a big surprise for you, boy, we have,’ Marlene cackled.
‘Don’t tell me, you’re getting married,’ Barry replied, wearily.
‘Nope. It’s better than that. Gonna have to go now, got no more change on me. See you tomorrow afternoon. Love you.’
Barry put the phone down and stared at it in shock. His mum had been nice, too nice, and that worried him greatly. Convincing himself that Marlene was either pregnant or had had a personality transplant, Barry smiled at his own humour and dashed upstairs to have a bath. He couldn’t wait to see Steph and, as soon as his mum arrived home, he would tell her his own big secret as well. He was in love with the girl across the road, and if his mother didn’t like it, she would have to bloody well lump it.
Stephanie and Tammy giggled excitedly as they sat on the top deck of the 174 bus that took them to Romford. They had had a great morning mooching around the Dagenham Sunday Market and had both treated themselves to the latest number one record, Billy Joel’s ‘Uptown Girl’.
‘I can’t wait till we get posh jobs up London. We’ll be uptown girls then, won’t we?’ Stephanie said, staring at the cover of the seven-inch vinyl.
Tammy lit up two cigarettes and handed one to her pal. ‘I dunno if I wanna get a job in an office up town now. My sister’s new boyfriend is a policeman and he’s been telling me loads about his job. It sounds dead exciting, so I think I might be a copper.’
Stephanie burst out laughing. ‘You are joking, ain’t ya?’
Tammy shook her head. ‘Nah, I ain’t. I think I might get bored being stuck in an office or bank from nine till five. Being a copper must be brill.’
‘Well, don’t be saying you wanna be a copper when we get to Pizza Hut, will you? Jacko’s a member of that West Ham football hooligan gang and my Barry is an illegal fly pitcher,’ Steph reminded her.
Seeing the funny side of her career choice, Tammy giggled. ‘So, have you done anything with Barry yet or what?’
‘No, nothing much.’
‘What’s nothing much mean? Have you let him tit you up or finger you yet? You ain’t wanked him off, have you?’ Tammy asked, excitedly.
‘Ssh,’ Steph replied, as she noticed a lady turn around from the seat in front and give them both a filthy look. She had let Barry fondle her breasts and put his hand inside her knickers, but she wasn’t about to discuss that on the 174 bus.
‘Tell me then?’ Tammy whispered, impatiently.
‘No, not on here. Tell me about you and Jacko. You seemed ever so cosy the other night. Do you like him, Tam?’
‘Yeah, but only as a mate. I ain’t Jacko’s type, Steph, and even if I were I wouldn’t want your bleedin’ sister’s leftovers. We do get on well though. He’s more of a laugh and so much nicer than I ever thought he would be. I used to think he was so up his own arse, but he ain’t when you really get to know him, is he?’
Stephanie nodded in agreement.
‘So, when you gonna shag Barry then?’ Tammy asked, in her usual none-too-quiet voice.
The woman who had looked around earlier stood up and glared at the girls. ‘Charming!’ she mumbled, as she moved seats.
Unable to stop themselves, both Stephanie and Tammy burst out laughing.
Pam had been not only surprised, but also delighted by how nice Angela’s boyfriend was. She had been extremely reluctant to welcome Jason O’Brien into her home, as she felt Angie was too young to be having boyfriends, but Jason seemed rather shy, sweet, yet charming at the same time.
‘So what does your mum do on a Sunday, Jason? Does she cook a roast as well?’ Pam asked, trying to find out if the boy came from a decent home.
‘Yes, Mrs Crouch. My mum and dad are both very religious. They go to mass every Sunday morning, but Mum always puts the meat on before they leave, so we all have a nice roast dinner when she gets home.’
Pam glanced at Cathy as if to mentally say: please don’t swear. Linda was out on the lash again, all of them spoke like navvies at times, and now Angela – of all people – had brought home a boy who came from a godly family. ‘So, what church do your parents attend, love?’ Pam asked.
‘My family are Irish Catholics. They go to St Peter’s Church, near the Chequers.’
Pam was Church of England, but knew very little about her religion – or anyone else’s, for that matter. ‘Would you like some dessert now, Jason? I’ve got homemade apple crumble, or there’s plenty of ice cream in the freezer, if you’d prefer that?’
‘You’re not still hungry, are you Jase?’ Angela said, kicking her boyfriend under the table.
‘No thank you, Mrs Crouch. I’m really full up,’ Jason replied, politely.
‘Can we please go upstairs and play some records now, Mum?’ Angela asked, in her innocent, childlike voice.
Pam thought carefully before answering. She refused to let Stephanie and Barry sit in the bedroom together because she found it inappropriate. It was different with Angie though. She had not long turned thirteen, and seeing as her boyfriend came from a church-going family, she really couldn’t see the harm in it. ‘You can, but don’t you dare tell your sister, as I don’t want her sitting upstairs with that Barry,’ Pam replied.
‘Come on, Jase,’ Angela said, grabbing her boyfriend by the hand.
‘And make sure you behave yourselves. I shall be checking up on you regularly, you know,’ Pam shouted out, as her daughter bolted up the stairs with Jason in tow.
Angela pushed Jason against the landing wall, snogged him passionately and smirked. ‘We’ll be on our best behaviour, I can promise you that, Mum.’
Wayne Jackman stared wistfully at Stephanie and Barry as they walked up to the salad bar laughing and joking. He wasn’t jealous of their happiness. He was just annoyed with himself for not taking Steph up on her offer when she had asked him out in the first place.
‘You OK, Jacko? Shall I order us all another drink?’ Tammy asked. They’d been ordering glasses of Coke and sneakily pouring the vodka in from a bottle Barry had bought to the restaurant with him.
‘Yeah, order some more up, girl,’ Wayne replied, chirpily. He liked Tammy, thought she was great fun, but she was no ravishing beauty and he certainly didn’t fancy her. Steph was the looker of the two. She had intelligence and an aura about her, and Wayne could kick himself for choosing her stupid sister over Steph. He must have been mad and blind, but it was too late to do anything about it now. When Barry and Steph returned to the table, Wayne smiled at them. ‘Get the vodka out, Bazza.’
Making sure none of the waitresses were looking, Barry poured a generous amount in all four of their glasses, then screwed the lid back on the bottle. He lifted his glass aloft, ‘To a top geezer who I owe my life to. Happy birthday, Jacko.’
With the washing-up out of the way, Pam flopped down in the armchair opposite Cathy.
‘Shall I open that bottle of wine now?’ Cathy asked, hopefully.
‘No! We can’t keep drinking the bloody stuff, Cath. We’ll have problems before you know it and we’ll have to join that Alcoholic’s Anonymous group. We should just drink it on a Saturday night like we used to, or the odd special occasion.’
Cathy chuckled. Pam could be such an old fuddy-duddy at times. ‘We’re hardly bleedin’ alkies are we? There’s only a couple of poxy glasses each in a bottle. Anyway, it is a special occasion. It would have been my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary today.’
Pam looked at her pal in amazement. ‘But you hated your old man, Cath.’
‘Yeah, I know. Still a bloody special occasion though, ain’t it?’
Pam burst out laughing. Sometimes she didn’t know what she would do without having Cath to lighten up her day. ‘Go on then, you pisshead.’
‘Pot calling kettle,’ Cathy joked.
Suddenly remembering her youngest daughter was up in her bedroom with a boy for the very first time, Pam leapt out of the chair. ‘I’d better go up and check on ’em. They’re a bit quiet up there, ain’t they?’
‘Stop worrying and sit back down. The top forty’s just started and you know how your girls are addicted to listening to them bleedin’ charts. You can guarantee Angie is making that poor boy listen to the rundown like she’s made me and you listen to the shit in the past. She’s only thirteen, Pam.’
‘You reckon that’s all they’re doing, then?’ Pam asked, feeling relieved.
Cathy grinned. ‘Of course it is.’
With the top-forty chart on in the background, Angela released Jason’s big, hard penis from the zip of his jeans and, without warning, shoved it inside her mouth.
‘Oh, Ange. That feels great, but say your mum comes up?’ Jason panted. He had only ever slept with one girl in the past and receiving a blow job was a completely new pleasure for him.
Flicking her tongue over the top of Jason’s penis like Jacko had taught her to do, Angela opened her eyes, glanced at the look of ecstasy on her boyfriend’s face, and sat up.
‘Don’t stop,’ Jason groaned.
Smirking, Angela stood up, wedged her dressing-table chair under the door so that her mum couldn’t get into the room, took her knickers off and lay on the bed. ‘Fuck me,’ she urged Jason.
‘I can’t! I ain’t got no johnnies and it don’t feel right with your mum sitting downstairs.’
‘You don’t need johnnies if you pull it out at the right time, and don’t worry about my mum, she couldn’t get in here even if she tried.’
With his hormones unable to look such a gift horse in the mouth, Jason held his penis in his right hand and rammed it inside Angela as hard as he could.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Stephanie said goodbye to Tammy outside the school gates then, hand in hand, walked home with Barry. Some of the other kids would snigger or make snide remarks over their obvious affection for each other, but Steph and Barry were in their own little bubble and really didn’t care what people said.
‘So, why weren’t Jacko at school today? Do you think he’s still hung-over from yesterday?’ Steph asked her boyfriend.
‘Nah. He told me he weren’t coming in. He’s gone to visit his old man in prison. Wait there, while I use this phone box. I’m gonna ring one of me dad’s mates. I wanna find out if he’s been sentenced yet.’
Stephanie stared at Barry through the glass panels on the big red door. She couldn’t work out by the expression on his face whether the news he was being told was good or bad. ‘Well?’ she asked, as he finally opened the door.
‘Four years he got.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Bal,’ Stephanie said, putting her arms around her boyfriend to give him a comforting hug.
‘It ain’t as bad as it sounds. He’ll be out in two if he behaves himself. I used to really like living with him though, Steph. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I moved to Dagenham else I would never have met you, but I hate living with me muvver and sister. They both treat me like I’m their slave. Me sister used to be all right years ago but, since she’s been with her bloke, she’s got even worse.’
‘Surely the council should give your sister a place now she’s pregnant? My mum reckons a lot of these young girls get pregnant on purpose these days, just so they can jump the housing queue,’ Stephanie said.
‘They ain’t allowed to give her a place until she’s sixteen, I don’t think. Her birthday’s the beginning of December, so hopefully she’ll move out then. Oh shit, me muvver’s home already,’ Barry said as they turned the corner.
Stephanie immediately let go of Barry’s hand as she spotted Marlene. She was wearing a short mauve skintight Lycra dress and had a big straw hat on her head. Her sandals were white and they had the biggest stiletto heel on them that Steph had ever seen.
‘Barry!’ Marlene exclaimed, opening her arms and running towards her son.
‘I’d better get indoors,’ Steph said, bluntly. She didn’t want to face the wrath of her mother if she was caught talking to Marlene.
‘I’ll knock for you later,’ Barry said understandingly, as his mum stumbled towards him in her high heels and fell into his arms.
‘Gissa cuddle. I ain’t ’arf missed you, boy. Me and Jake had a wonderful time. We bought you back some bottled sangria and I got you two hundred fags. That girl you were walking along with ain’t your bit of fluff, is she? Can’t stand her fat fucker of a mother. She always looks down her nose at me,’ Marlene said as she clocked where Steph went.
Barry stared at his mother in utter disbelief. He could never remember her cuddling him before, not even when he was a small child – and her saying she had missed him, that was a first as well. As for her buying him presents, she never treated him to sod all and had even forgotten his birthday for the past two years running. Ignoring Marlene’s question about Stephanie, Barry stared her straight in the eyes. ‘I ain’t no div, Mum. Something’s going on, so best you tell me what. Are you getting married? Are you pregnant? Just spit it out, I’m a big boy now.’
Marlene burst out laughing. She hated children, didn’t even like the two she’d given birth to very much. ‘Don’t be so silly. I’d rather sew me fanny up than have any more kids. Got enough on me plate with you and your bleedin’ sister, ain’t I? Where is Chantelle, by the way?’
‘Out with Ajay somewhere. So, are you getting married or what?’
Marlene linked arms with her only son. ‘No, it’s much more exciting than that. Let’s go and open that sangria. We’ll discuss it indoors.’
Pam and Cathy were stuck to the living-room window like two tubes of superglue.
‘Will yous two come away from that window. I don’t want Barry to see you spying on him. It’s embarrassing,’ Stephanie said, annoyed.
Pam watched Marlene tottering up the path in her ridiculously high heels, then turned to face Steph. ‘I really don’t think it’s a good idea that Barry comes over here now his mum’s home, love. You can still see him and that, but don’t bring him indoors and don’t you dare go over there.’
Stephanie looked at her mother in total dismay. ‘But why not? Barry enjoys coming over here. What am I meant to say to him, Mum?’
Pam shrugged. Barry had done nothing wrong, but there was no way he was stepping foot over her threshold now his mother was back home. Say Marlene saw him and came and knocked on the door? Or, even worse, say she expected an invite herself?
‘Please don’t stop Barry from coming round, Mum,’ Stephanie begged.
‘I’m sorry, Steph, but I told you when the boy first came round here that he was only allowed to have dinner and pop in until his mother came back. I will not have my name darkened by being involved with that old slapper, so I’m sorry but the answer’s no. Now, that’s the end of the matter.’
Devastated by her mother’s callousness, Stephanie grabbed her school bag off the sofa and ran up the stairs, sobbing.
Barry pulled a face as he sipped the drink that his mother had given him. He had never drunk sangria before, and in his opinion it tasted vulgar – a bit like sweet vinegar.
‘Don’t you like it, boy? Wanna shot of JD with me instead?’ Jake the Snake asked.
Barry nodded his head. Both his mother and Jake the Snake kept smiling at him and he was becoming more perplexed by the second at their sickly niceness towards him. ‘So, what’s this big news, then?’
Marlene grinned. ‘Jake’s bought a bar in a really posh part of Spain. It’s beautiful, Bal, and it’s gonna be called Marlene’s.’
Barry was well chuffed. If his mother moved abroad and his sister moved out, he would have the whole house to himself. ‘That’s blinding news, Mum. So, when you going out there to live?’
‘Next week. I ain’t telling the authorities I’m living out there though, because I don’t wanna lose me social money or this house, so if anyone asks you, just say we’ve bought a holiday home and we’re flitting backwards and forwards. I can’t wait for you to see it, Barry. It’s top notch and we’re gonna sell all posh food in there as well. Jake’s hired a proper chef, ain’t you, babe?’ Marlene gushed, squeezing her sugar daddy’s hand.
‘Sounds ace. I’ll have to come out there for a holiday one day,’ Barry replied, chirpily.
Marlene burst out laughing. ‘You dopey sod! You’ll be moving out there with us. You’re gonna love it, Bal, and you wanna see the girls out there. You’ll have a field day, son.’
Barry looked at his mother in stupefied shock. ‘I don’t wanna move to Spain. I wanna stay ’ere. I don’t mind having holidays out there, but I like it in England.’
‘Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. You’ll love it in Spain. What boy your age wouldn’t wanna be surrounded by the sun, sea and pretty girls. And you’ll be loaded. Jake’s gonna pay you well, ain’t you, Jake?’
‘How’s a hundred sovs a week sound?’ Jake asked, grinning.
‘I couldn’t give a shit if you were paying me a thousand sovs a week, I still wouldn’t wanna go to Spain. I like living in Dagenham. I like my job on the market and I ain’t leaving me girlfriend. I love her too much.’
‘Love! You’re fourteen years old, boy. You don’t know what bleedin’ love is at your age. Anyway, you’ll easily find another bird out in Spain. Tell him how pretty the girls are out there, Jake.’
When Jake began to speak, Barry was so infuriated, he stood up. ‘I ain’t fucking going and you can’t make me go if I don’t wanna,’ he screamed.
Marlene leapt off the sofa and grabbed her son by the shoulders. ‘Oh yes I can! I’m your mother, and now your father ain’t gonna be around to look after you, you have no choice but to live wherever I wanna live.’
‘But what about school? Can’t I finish me schooling and then come out there if you still want me to? I can look after meself, you know that. And what about Chantelle? She’ll be about to keep an eye on me, won’t she?’
‘Don’t give me all that old bollocks about school. You might be clued up and streetwise, but you’re hardly academically bright, are you? You’ve always said you couldn’t wait to leave bloody school and work full time. Well, now’s your fucking chance to make something of your life. Just think of how well off you’re gonna be, earning a ton a week at your age.’
Barry sat back down in the armchair and put his head in his hands. If he hadn’t already met Steph, he would have jumped at the chance of moving to Spain and earning a hundred quid a week, but he couldn’t bear to be parted from her. ‘I ain’t going, Mum. I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave me bird.’
‘You can and you will, boy. Jake needs you to help him run this bar, we both do, so like it or not, that’s what you’ll be doing,’ Marlene snapped back.
‘Can’t you just employ someone else to do it?’
Marlene’s earlier façade of being nice had now all but disappeared and she was becoming more irate by the second at her ungrateful son’s attitude. ‘No, we fucking well can’t! Now you listen to me, Barry. I don’t want you with me in Spain any more than you wanna be there, but we need your help. There’s a lot of heavy lifting and stuff to be done, and we need someone who can keep an eye on the place who we can trust. Jake ain’t as young and fit as you are, so you can do all the donkey work, while me and him run the actual gaff. There is no way we are employing any of them Spaniards, ’cause we can’t stand the greasy bastards, and if we employ a decent English bloke, he’s gonna cost us big bucks. So, like it or lump it, boy, you’re moving to Spain. Now, do yourself a favour and get that smacked-arse face of yours out of my sight before I give you what for, you selfish little fucker.’
Absolutely furious, Barry grabbed his door key and ran out of the house.
Stephanie was lying on her bed crying when Angela came into the room.
‘What’s up? Has Barry dumped you or something?’ Angela asked, hopefully.
‘No, it’s Mum,’ Steph replied, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve.
‘What’s she done?’
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Kimberley Chambers
The heir to Martina Cole’s crown with a story of murder, the underworld, violence and treachery.It’s 1983 and Stephanie Crouch’s life is dull. She is desperate to escape the run-down, pokey council house she shares with her overbearing family, but at fourteen years old she has nowhere to go.When Stephanie meets East End wide-boy Barry, his cockney charm and quick tongue soon have her head over heels in love. Finally Stephanie feels like her dreary life is on the up. But too young to control their fate, Stephanie and Barry are torn apart when he is whisked away to Spain by his family.Lonely and heartbroken Stephanie turns to Barry’s childhood friend Wayne for comfort, and their friendship soon blossoms into romance, leaving Barry fuming and promising revenge…Ten years later Barry returns to England. Within one month Stephanie's happy world with Wayne is turned upside down. People immediately start to point the finger of accusation at Barry, but is he the one to blame?Or, should Stephanie look elsewhere to find the schemer who has ruined her life?
KIMBERLEY CHAMBERS
The Schemer
Copyright
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.
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
Copyright © Kimberley Chambers 2012
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
All rights reserved under International 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 ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, 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 ebooks
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication
Source ISBN: 9780007435012
Ebook Edition © April 2012 ISBN: 9780007435029
Version: 2017-11-17
In loving memory of
Helena Ann Lewis
1970–2011
‘Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another …’
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ‘The Adventure of the Speckled Band’
Table of Contents
Cover (#u954816bc-2e58-5638-a0d7-3841a8062f33)
Title Page (#u93c40eb0-dc1a-56cd-9d13-c243a43b497a)
Copyright (#u3c94af47-f0a4-5ad0-bd2b-597cce7487a0)
Dedication (#u4222f483-d19f-5642-9d5f-1aa717e3955f)
Epigraph (#u9bf89a35-68ac-530b-a3ec-78fcdcd6b692)
Prologue (#u05c72283-953a-5036-8421-6b92480ca73f)
Chapter One (#u6e1d4d4d-d4d0-5386-971f-e5633ec568ce)
Chapter Two (#u01800ab5-f21e-574a-91ae-364a1d878ac4)
Chapter Three (#ua314a00e-7086-51bb-8faa-e02f073b8fc0)
Chapter Four (#ud7e980fa-6cd1-5c4b-b5e2-6b1f03a853e7)
Chapter Five (#u09a87129-bf0b-5ebd-aa4a-cace7278ba6a)
Chapter Six (#u25be523d-f880-5399-9430-91783d4d0e57)
Chapter Seven (#u50da68e5-3fbc-5029-8c3d-9ba53b462681)
Chapter Eight (#uaa424e0a-beeb-5bc1-82e5-8aaeb37d314f)
Chapter Nine (#u178072f9-20c2-5af7-be20-09e87d3e1a4d)
Chapter Ten (#u2013e36f-e088-57b6-8da9-74c6dcd0f9eb)
Chapter Eleven (#u1392cb00-b70c-5724-9b3e-72952520a5d8)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Forty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo)
Acknowledgments (#litres_trial_promo)
Read on for an extract from Kimberley’s next book: The Trap (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by Kimberley Chambers (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
The woman sat on the deck sipping a glass of vintage champagne. The weather was glorious and the heavenly smell of the ocean always had a calming effect on her. As the man reappeared, the woman smiled at him lovingly. Usually when they sailed their boat, they brought friends along with them, but today the man had insisted they sail alone. ‘I wanted it to be just the two of us for once; that’s why I never told you we were going out on the boat until this morning. I wanted to surprise you and spoil you rotten.’
And surprised and spoilt rotten the woman had been. Mussels in garlic butter, salmon en croûte, strawberries and cream were all prepared and served up for her by her wonderful man. She had a surprise for him also and, as soon as he sat back down, she would tell him what she had been dying to tell him for weeks.
‘Come over ’ere, babe, and look at this,’ the man said, gesticulating for the woman to join him.
The woman walked over to the right-hand side of the boat and put her arms around the man’s toned, suntanned waist. ‘I can’t see nothing. What am I meant to be looking at?’ she asked, rather bemused.
Knowing it was now or never, the man forcefully grabbed the woman by the shoulders, and swung her around so that her back was positioned against the gunwale. ‘I’m sorry, but me and you are over. I don’t love you any more and I’m going back to England.’
‘Stop mucking about. You’re not funny,’ the woman said, with a hint of panic in her voice.
‘I ain’t fucking mucking about,’ the man replied, as he put one hand around the woman’s throat and used his other to lift her up by the crotch.
‘Please God no! Why would you want to do this to me? Why?’ the woman screamed, as her feet left the safety of the deck.
‘Because you know too much about me,’ the man replied, his face devoid of emotion. With one last movement, he threw her to the mercy of the sharks. The last words he heard her scream were, ‘I’m pregnant.’ Putting his hands over his ears so he didn’t have to listen to anything else she might yell out, the man then calmly returned to the helm.
CHAPTER ONE
1983
Stephanie Crouch’s stomach was full of butterflies as she marched up Dagenham Heathway hill towards the train station. It had taken her ages to decide what to wear, but she was happy with her choice of denim pedal-pushers, a Flashdance-inspired ripped grey sweatshirt and gold pump ballet shoes. Not only did she look trendy, but felt comfortable as well.
‘Hurry up, Tam. You’re walking as fast as a tortoise,’ Stephanie complained to her best friend.
Tammy Andrews stopped dead in her tracks. The stereo system she was carrying on her shoulder had all but broken her back. ‘Sod you, Steph. You can carry it the rest of the way yourself. I ain’t one of them donkeys, you know.’
Laughing, Steph handed her pal the carrier bag of goodies they’d purchased earlier and relieved her of her burden.
‘Why did you drag us up ’ere so early anyway? You know he don’t get back till about six and it’s only half four. We should have drank our cider in the park and then come up ’ere. My mum will kill me if anyone she knows catches me drinking and smoking.’
Ignoring her friend’s concerns, Stephanie stood outside the station and planned her next move. She knew that Wayne Jackman went to every West Ham home game and she knew he arrived back at Dagenham Heathway at approximately six o’clock. ‘I don’t want him to think we’re waiting for him, so I think we should sit opposite the station. He lives in Digby Gardens, so he’s bound to cross the road,’ Steph said, confidently.
Unlike Stephanie, Tammy was no fan of Wayne Jackman, the school heart-throb. Wayne, who was usually referred to as Jacko, was in the year above them at Dagenham Priory. Although Tammy had never spoken to him on a one-to-one basis, she’d seen and heard enough about him to know that he was bad news. He might be breathtakingly good looking with his blond hair and piercing blue eyes, but he was also flash, blatantly loved himself and had a reputation of being a bit of a bully.
Holding the stereo system between them, the girls strolled across the pedestrian crossing, sat down on the pavement outside a shop and delved into their bag of goodies. Neither came from wealthy families, so the three pounds they both received as pocket money every week was pooled together at the weekend to ensure they had a good time. Strongbow cider, twenty Embassy Number One, two packets of Hubba Bubba bubble gum, chips and magazines was all they ever treated themselves to.
Stephanie pressed the play button on the stereo and ignored the disapproving looks of passers-by as the music blared out of the speakers.
‘I hate this shit music,’ Tammy complained.
Stephanie laughed. Whereas she was deemed very attractive, Tammy was classed as the opposite. Fairly plump with reddish-gingery hair, most of the lads at school took the piss out of Tammy. Her nickname was Tampax or ginger minge, but Stephanie adored her best friend. In Steph’s eyes, she was beautiful, loving and extremely funny.
Singing at the top of her voice to New Edition’s ‘Candy Girl’ Steph handed her friend the fags and matches while she opened a bottle of cider.
‘I bought a tape with me with “Baby Jane” on it. Can’t we put that on, Steph?’
Stephanie shook her head vehemently. Wayne Jackman was a casual and was always dressed in designer tracksuits. He even owned a real Burberry jacket and he certainly wouldn’t be impressed if he walked out of the station and heard the dulcet tones of Rod Stewart blaring out.
‘You can put “Baby Jane” on when he’s gone. Casuals like soul music, Tam, and I don’t wanna put him off me.’
Tammy sighed. Ever since Wayne Jackman had last week wolf-whistled at Stephanie in the alleyway that led from the upper to the lower school, Steph had spoken of little else. ‘Why don’t you just ask him out? I’ll do it for you if you like,’ Tammy suggested.
Stephanie immediately shook her head. ‘No! I’m gonna wait for him to ask me out.’
‘Hide that cider, quick. One of my mum’s mates is crossing the road,’ Tammy hissed.
Stephanie put the cider back in the carrier bag, turned around and checked her hair in the reflection of the shop window. She’d recently grown her hair long and had begged her mum to let her have one of the shaggy perms that were currently all the rage. ‘No. We can’t afford it and you’re far too young to be putting silly substances on your hair. Don’t wanna go bald before you’re twenty, do you?’ her mum had told her yet again this morning.
Annoyed at not being allowed to have the perm she craved, Stephanie had created her own shaggy look. Instead of blow-drying her hair straight like she usually did, Steph had towel-dried it so it looked as if as if she’d just got out of bed, then plastered it with lacquer to make it stand on end.
‘I hope Wayne likes my hair like this. Do you reckon he’ll like it? Or do you think he’ll prefer it the other way?’
Turning her head so that her mum’s friend wouldn’t stop for a chat, Tammy glared at her friend. ‘You’re really doing my head in now, Steph. Light me a snout and give me a bottle of that cider. If I don’t chill out, I’m gonna scream.’
Pamela Crouch picked up the cloth, squeezed the excess water back into the bucket, then proudly set to work on cleaning her front door. Unlike some of her frowsy neighbours, Pam had been born and bred in the East End of London, where pride in the cleanliness of one’s abode was of the utmost importance. Dagenham was different. People’s standards here were lower than in good old Mile End.
Thinking of her dear old mum’s strict values, Pam smiled sadly. It would be a year next week since the cancer had so cruelly taken her wonderful mother away from her, and Pam still thought about her each and every day.
‘Pam, the old slapper’s on her way home. Got a big black man with her today she has.’
Pam dropped her cloth and ran over to the garden fence to greet her next-door neighbour, Cathy. Like herself, Cathy was originally from the East End and, over the ten years they’d been neighbours, their friendship had grown from strength to strength. ‘I can’t see her,’ she said, looking from left to right.
‘She was in Sainsbury’s. You should of seen the trolley-load of drink she had. The black man was definitely with her, I saw him put his hand on her arse. She must be on her way home with the booze. Where else would she take it?’
Pam shook her head in disgust. Ever since the old slapper had recently moved into the house opposite, she had been her and Cath’s main topic of conversation. Marlene was her name, and the only other bit of information they could find out about her was that she’d lived in Bethnal Green before moving to Dagenham. It wasn’t just the number of men Pam and Cath had seen visit the house that had earned Marlene her nickname. It was the over-the-top way she dressed, her snooty, up-her-own-arse attitude, her pregnant fifteen-year-old daughter, and the fact that she had old bits of sheet hanging in her windows rather than proper curtains.
‘Ere she comes, look. I can’t believe she’s got the front to walk about dressed like a film star, yet she’s got rotten old sheets for curtains. Talk about all fur coat and no knickers,’ Cathy said, bluntly.
Pam surreptitiously glanced at Marlene and the black man. ‘I bet he’s a Ford worker. Probably got some poor unsuspecting wife tucked away somewhere,’ she whispered.
Cathy’s lip curled up. Her old man had got one of the barmaids in East Ham Working Man’s Club pregnant, hence their messy divorce. Clocking the hatred towards Marlene on Cathy’s face, Pam linked arms with her. ‘Come on, let’s go indoors and have a nice cuppa, shall we? I’ve got some cream cakes if you fancy one?’
‘Let me pop in mine and sort my Michael’s dinner out first. I’ll give you a knock in about a half-hour or so,’ Cath replied.
Pam shut the front door, made a pot of tea and plonked herself down on the armchair to rest her tired legs. She was only thirty-five, but life hadn’t been kind to her and she sometimes felt twenty years older. At five foot one, Pam had always had an enormous appetite and had never been the slimmest of women, but since her husband had died, she’d gorged day and night just for comfort. Bringing up two daughters alone wasn’t easy, and even though she now had a job in a bakery, money was still scarce. David’s death had been a terrible shock at the time. He’d only been working as a steel erector for a month, when the police had knocked on Pam’s door and informed her of his accident. She’d dashed straight up the hospital, but after falling from thirty foot of scaffolding, David had never regained consciousness. Her daughters Stephanie and Angela had both adored their father, and telling them the awful news was the most difficult thing Pam had ever had to do. Thankfully, at four and three years old respectively, the girls had been far too young to understand the enormity of what had happened and had just accepted the news of David’s death as children that age tend to do.
Glancing at the picture of her mum on the mantelpiece, Pam sighed. Her wonderful mother, Ada, was the only person who had truly helped her cope after David’s death. A matriarch East Ender, she had sort of taken over in her own way, and had been there for Pam and the kids whenever she’d been called upon. Losing her mum to cancer was horrendous for Pam. Her dad, Arnold, was still alive, but he was a simple man who had no idea how to cope with Linda’s wants and needs. Linda was Pam’s only sister and had sadly been born with dwarfism. Under the circumstances, Linda had led life to the full. She had attended mainstream schools, had always worked, and had much more of a social life than Pam had herself. However, her mum had always worried about Linda’s welfare and had made Pam promise that if anything happened to her, she would look after her younger sister. A woman of her word, Pam had stuck to her promise. She had turfed Angela out of her bedroom and made her share with Steph, then Linda had moved into Angela’s old room. Her daughters weren’t happy about the sharing situation. They’d always got on fairly well as young children, but now they argued like cat and dog.
Pam was jolted back to reality by the arrival of her youngest daughter.
‘Where’s my shiny black leggings, Mum? Did you get ’em dry for me?’
Pam felt awful as she leapt out of the armchair. She had totally forgotten to wash the leggings and, unlike Steph who was little trouble at all, Angie was a demanding little cow at times. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, love. I’ve been so busy all day, it slipped my mind. Shall I rinse ’em through now for you?
Angela Crouch looked at her mother in complete and utter disbelief. One thing she had asked her to do, one small thing, and she couldn’t even manage that. ‘Don’t bother! I’ll have to wear them dirty. I bet if Steph had asked you to wash her leggings, you wouldn’t have forgotten, would you?’
‘Yes, I would have! Why don’t you wear your white ones I bought you down the Sunday market?’ Pam asked, with an apologetic tone to her voice.
‘Because they ain’t black and they ain’t shiny Lycra. This is the most important night of my life, Mum, and thanks to you it’s ruined now.’ Angela stomped out the room. In her eyes, her Miss Goody Two Shoes of a sister was the apple of her mother’s eye. Steph was the well-behaved, clever one who got great school reports. For years Angie had had to listen to her mum bigging Steph up to anyone who would care to listen, while the only mention she ever got was for underachieving or misbehaving.
Feeling second best did not suit Angela one little bit and it had made her harbour a secret hatred for her sister. She longed for Steph to slip up and dash her mother’s dreams of grandeur. That would be hilarious.
Slamming her bedroom door, Angela walked over to her sister’s bed. Unlike Angela, who had posters of her favourite popstars on the wall that her headboard rested against, Stephanie had a photo of herself and their deceased father. Angie stared at it, then casually took her nail scissors out of her make-up bag. She snipped the string and smiled as she heard the sound of breaking glass.
Stephanie Crouch felt her body shaking with pure lust as Wayne Jackman stood outside Dagenham Heathway Station chatting to some pals. Dressed in a striking blue Fila tracksuit and white Adidas trainers, Wayne looked the absolute nuts, and Steph was aware of the glances he was attracting from other girls.
‘Don’t his hair look cool? I think he’s got Brylcreem or something on it today. It don’t look as blond as it does in school, does it? Do you reckon he’s dyed it? Or, do you reckon it’s the product he’s used that’s making it look darker?’
Bored shitless, and positive that Wayne didn’t bathe and his hair was just greasy, Tammy Andrews ignored her friend’s stupid questions and turned the volume on the stereo up.
‘Quick, he’s coming. Rewind it to Shalamar “A Night to Remember” while I light the snout up,’ Steph said, with a hint of panic in her voice. She needed Wayne to see her drinking and smoking, otherwise he might just see her as some silly schoolgirl.
Tammy watched in amazement as Wayne and his two mates crossed the road and sauntered past her and Angela as though they didn’t exist. ‘Well, say something then. He ain’t gonna notice you if you sit there like a tailor’s dummy, is he?’ she spat at Steph.
Overcome by nerves, Steph had all but lost her voice. ‘I can’t think of nothing to say,’ she croaked, her mind completely blank.
Furious that they’d wasted hours dossing about up the Heathway when they could have been having a laugh with the lads over the park, Tammy stood up. ‘Oi, Jacko,’ she shouted out.
‘Stop it! What you doing?’ Steph squirmed, pulling at her friend’s sleeve.
‘Whaddya want?’ Wayne asked, as he casually approached Tammy with his hands dug deep in his tracksuit pockets. His best pals, Mark Potter and Chris Cook, stood beside Wayne like two bodyguards.
‘We wondered if yous wanted to meet us over the park tonight. There’s a party over there and loads of us are going. We’re all gonna get smashed, ain’t we, Steph?’ Tammy said, trying to sound cool.
‘It all depends if you’re gonna let us have a feel around that ginger minge of yours,’ Mark Potter said, chuckling.
‘You don’t wanna feel round there. They don’t call her Tampax for nothing, you know,’ Chris Cook chipped in.
‘You’re such a wanker, Cooksie,’ Wayne said, laughing. None of the lads called one another by their first names. Jacko, Potter and Cooksie sounded far more hip than Wayne, Mark and Chris.
When Wayne knelt down beside her, Stephanie’s face reddened to a similar colour as Tammy’s hair.
‘Gonna offer me some of that cider, sexy?’ he asked.
Hands shaking, Steph passed him the bottle she was holding.
‘Gissa fag. Potter will have one an’ all,’ Cooksie said to Tammy.
Annoyed at the way the boys had taken the piss out of her, Tammy shook her head. ‘We’ve only got six left and they’ve gotta last us all night,’ she replied, haughtily.
‘We’ve only got six left and they’ve got to last us all night,’ Cooksie chanted, mimicking Tammy’s voice.
Ignoring his pal’s laughter, Wayne winked at Steph. He could tell how much she fancied him. He had the same effect on most girls, and he loved playing on his attractiveness and winding them up. ‘So, why did you really call us over here? Did you wanna ask me something?’ Wayne asked, staring at Steph intently with his piercing blue eyes.
Feeling as though she was about to faint, Steph shook her head frantically. Letting Wayne know that she fancied him was totally out of the question, so she had no option other than to lie. ‘Tammy wanted to call you over. She fancies Potter,’ Steph blurted out.
‘You lying cow! I heard that and I do not fancy Potter. The reason we called you over is because Steph’s got the hots for you, Jacko. Been doing my head in ever since you whistled at her in the alley. All I hear is Wayne this and Wayne that, so on Steph’s behalf, will you go out with her?’
When Potter and Cooksie burst out laughing, Stephanie hung her head in shame. She’d experienced some embarrassing times in her life, none more so than when she’d fallen off the stage dressed as Rizzo out of Grease during her school play, but this beat that cringeworthy moment hands down.
Wayne chuckled. He could sense Stephanie’s humiliation and was rather enjoying the enormous effect he was having on her. ‘So, you wanna go out with me?’ he asked, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
Stephanie shrugged. ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ she replied, in almost a whisper.
Wayne grinned at Potter and Cooksie, then turned his attention back to Steph. ‘Ask me properly and I’ll see what I can do for you.’
Stephanie glanced at Tammy. This was all her bloody fault. ‘Will you go out with me?’ she mumbled, unable to look Wayne in the eye.
‘Sorry, still can’t hear you properly,’ he replied, cockily.
Knowing it was shit-or-bust time, Steph decided to stand up and brave it. Wayne must fancy her as much as she fancied him, else why would he want her to ask him out in the first place? ‘Will you go out with me, Jacko?’ she asked, boldly.
Wayne ran his hand through his trendy wedge haircut and smirked at his pals. ‘I can’t I’m afraid, darling. I’ve already got a bird and I’ve gotta dash now as I’m gonna be late meeting her. See you around, Steph.’
When Potter and Cooksie burst out laughing, Steph’s eyes filled up with tears. Wayne Jackman had made her look a complete and utter idiot and she knew she’d be a laughing stock at school on Monday morning.
As the lads walked away in high spirits, Tammy tried to hug her best friend. ‘Jacko’s an arsehole, you’re worth a hundred of him, Steph,’ she said, truthfully.
Feeling both furious and degraded, Steph violently pushed Tammy away. ‘This is all your fault. If you hadn’t opened your big mouth, none of this would have happened. I hate you Tammy Andrews, and I never want to see you again.’
Bursting into a flood of uncontrollable tears, Stephanie picked up her purse and ran off as fast as she could.
With little money left every week out of their wages, Pam and Cathy did virtually all their socializing indoors. Neither women were big drinkers, but most Saturday nights they liked to share a bottle of Liebfraumilch between them. Sunday was the only day that neither woman worked, so it was nice to let their hair down a bit.
‘How’s the café been this week? Busy?’ Pam asked her friend.
‘Yeah, not bad. We keep attracting a crowd of school-kids though. The little sods are bunking off from the Priory, I think. Bleedin’ nuisance they are.’
Pam chuckled. Cathy worked in a café in Broad Street Market, which was only a spit’s throw from their homes in Manning Road.
‘What about you? How’s the eating-in idea working out?’ Cath asked, as she opened the bottle of wine.
Pam worked in a bakery in Dagenham East that had recently expanded and started an eating-in service.
‘It’s really begun to take off now. We’ve even started selling cooked breakfasts and jacket potatoes,’ Pam said, excitedly. She was hoping the extra business would give her a much-needed pay rise.
‘Quick, come ’ere. There’s a blue van just pulled up outside the old slapper’s with an old boy and a young fella in it,’ Cath exclaimed.
‘Someone’s moving in by the looks of that mattress. I saw the black man leave about half an hour ago. Surely she ain’t got another victim already?’ Pam said, laughing.
‘Well, it can’t be the young one, he’s younger than my Michael. She’s gotta be moving the old boy in, surely?’ Cath said, bemused.
‘How is your Michael? I ain’t seen him for ages. Still loved-up, is he?’
Unable to take her eyes away from the window in case she missed anything worth noting, Cath nodded her head. Her eldest son, Pete, had recently got married, and now it looked as though her youngest was about to fly the nest too.
‘Only comes home to bring his washing back and stuff his face now. She’s a nice girl, that Jane he’s with, but I wish she didn’t already have a kid. I reckon he’ll move in with her soon, but I do worry about him, Pam. I mean, taking on another man’s child ain’t ideal, is it? And I’ve just found out the father of the kid is in prison. It’s times like this I rue the day I moved to Dagenham, mate. If I had put me foot down with that philandering bastard of a husband of mine and insisted on staying in Poplar, my Michael wouldn’t have even met this bleedin’ bird.’
Pam nodded understandingly. Both her and Cathy’s husbands had been born and bred in Barking, which was why they had ended up with council houses under Barking and Dagenham council. In Pam’s case, her David had insisted Dagenham was a nicer area to raise children than the East End, but Pam had never been truly happy living there. She missed the old estate she had lived on and her frequent trips to Roman Road market. The pie-and-mash shops in Dagenham were rotten, in Pam’s opinion, and not a patch on Kelly’s up the Roman.
‘Your Steph’s home, looks upset she does,’ Cathy warned her friend.
Pam ran out into the hallway to greet her eldest daughter. It was very unusual for Steph to arrive home before her weekend ten o’clock curfew, so she knew something must be wrong. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ she asked, clocking her daughter’s tear-stained face.
‘Nothing. Leave me alone,’ Steph replied, trying to duck past her mother so she could run up the stairs.
Petrified that her daughter had been attacked, or even worse, Pam grabbed hold of Stephanie’s shoulders. ‘You ain’t going nowhere, young lady, until you tell me what’s happened. Has someone touched you?’
Collapsing into Pam’s arms, Steph cried more tears than she’d ever cried before.
Unaware of the drama that was currently going on downstairs, Angela Crouch had got over her earlier sulk and was now thoroughly looking forward to her big night out. Unlike her sister, Steph, Angie had been into boys from a very young age. At ten, she’d had her very first French kiss and at twelve she had let Gary Ratcliffe tit her up, the Dagenham term for touching someone’s breasts. However, even though she’d had plenty of boyfriends, Angie had never been in love before, not until now, anyway.
Turning the music up to Kool and the Gang’s ‘Get Down On It’, Angela stood in front of the mirror singing into her hairbrush. Even though both she and her sister had always been called pretty, Angela knew she knocked spots off Steph in that department. Angie was twenty months younger than her sister and shorter in height, but knew she looked older. ‘Get down on it, suck my helmet,’ Angie sang, flicking her hair over her shoulders seductively. Her new boyfriend had taught her the rude lyrics to the song and Angie thought they were hilarious. Glancing at the Swatch watch her mum had recently bought her for her thirteenth birthday, Angie took the needle off the record. She’d arranged to meet her boyfriend at 7.30 outside the Princess Bowling Alley along the A13, and she didn’t want to be late.
‘What’s a matter with you?’ she asked, as her sister barged into the room and threw herself onto her bed face downwards.
‘Don’t ask! I ain’t going a school Monday. I’ve asked Mum to find me a new school ’cause I ain’t never going back to Priory again,’ Steph wept.
Whereas she herself could turn on the waterworks on a regular basis just to get her own way, Angie had rarely seen Steph as upset before. She sat on the bed next to her, hoping that something bad had happened. ‘What’s up? I dunno what happened to your photo by the way. I was doing my make-up and it fell on the floor. I reckon the string must have snapped.’
‘Sod the photo. I’ve fallen out with Tammy and I’ve made a complete fool of myself over a boy. I am such a fucking idiot, I hate myself.’
‘Why have you fallen out with Tam?’ Angie asked, surprised. She knew how close her sister and Tammy Andrews were, and she had never known them to argue in all the years they’d known one another.
Needing to get the whole episode off her chest, Stephanie began at the beginning of the story and told her sister everything that had happened.
‘But if you lied and said that Tammy fancied this boy’s mate, then you can’t blame her, Steph. It’s you that’s out of order. Who is the boy anyway? Why won’t you tell me his name?’
‘Because he goes to our school and I know what a big mouth you’ve got. Enough people are gonna find out what happened as it is, without you telling all your mates an’ all,’ Steph replied, truthfully.
‘I won’t say nothing, I promise. Tell me his name?’ Angie asked, nosily. She was thoroughly enjoying her sister’s despair and wanted to know more.
‘Swear on Mum’s life you won’t tell anyone,’ Steph said, solemnly.
When Angela crossed her heart with her right hand and repeated the oath, Steph sat up and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘It was Wayne Jackman. He’s in the fifth year, do you know him?’
The look on Angela’s face immediately changed from a look of false concern to one of contorted rage. She snatched her hand away from her sister’s and stood up. ‘Wayne’s my boyfriend, you slag!’ she exclaimed.
Stephanie looked at her sister in pure amazement. Angela was only in the second year at Priory – she’d missed out on being in the year above because she had been born a week too late – so there was no way she could be dating Wayne, who was in the fifth year.
‘You gotta be joking, Ange. Jacko wouldn’t go out with a second-year girl. You sure you’ve got the right boy?’
With hatred in her bright green eyes, Angela glared at Stephanie. There was only one Wayne Jackman at Dagenham Priory, and not only was he gorgeous, but he belonged to her. ‘I’ve told him I’m fifteen. I’m meeting him tonight, he’s taking me to his mate’s party in Beam Avenue. I swear, Steph, if you mess this up for me by telling him my real age, I’ll never forgive you for it.’
‘I won’t say nothing, I promise, but he’s gonna find out your age, Ange. How can he not? You go to the same school, you div.’
Putting her trendy beads on, Angela picked up her silver purse and pointed her forefinger nastily in her sister’s face. ‘That’s for me to worry about, not you. I swear, Steph, if you ever say one word to him, I will fucking kill you.’
CHAPTER TWO
Stephanie spent all day Sunday moping about in her bedroom. Angela had flounced in and out a few times and, not wanting to face her sister, Steph had pretended she was asleep. Yesterday’s heartbreak had now turned to rage, but Steph wasn’t annoyed with her sister, she was angry with herself for acting like such an idiot. Wayne Jackman had humiliated her good and proper and, as Steph flicked through an old copy of Jackie Magazine, she vowed never to let another boy get the better of her again. If Wayne hadn’t been dating her sister and had just let her down gently, she would probably still have been in love with him. Instead, she had managed to force herself to hate him overnight.
Refusing to eat her roast-lamb dinner by claiming she had a sore throat, Stephanie used the same lie on the Monday morning when her mum woke her up to go to school. Facing Wayne and his gloating pals was totally out of the question – she’d rather eat nails.
‘Well, best you get that arse around that doctor’s then and get yourself some antibiotics. You better not be trying to pull the wool over my eyes, young lady, because if I find out you’re lying, I shall drag you into that school by your hair tomorrow,’ Pam warned her daughter.
Stephanie waited until her mum had gone to work and her sister had gone to school before getting out of bed. She hadn’t even had a wash or cleaned her teeth yesterday so, feeling filthy, she decided to run a bath. Turning the taps on, Steph went back into her bedroom and stared out of the window. The weather was dull and wet, just like her mood. Spotting a dark-haired boy leaning against Marlene’s wall smoking a cigarette, Stephanie lifted the net curtain up slightly so she could get a better view of him. Steph was well aware that her mum and Cathy were obsessed with the coming and goings at Marlene’s house, but surely this young boy wasn’t her latest conquest?
Aware that the boy had spotted her staring at him, Stephanie let go of the curtain and quickly jumped back from the window. Boys were now vermin as far as she was concerned.
Tammy Andrews somehow got through her classes and, as the bell rang for home time, grabbed her schoolbag and ran through the corridors. Falling out with Steph had upset her greatly and she had to see her best friend to try and sort things out.
‘Stop running, Andrews,’ Tammy heard one of the teachers shout. She slowed down and, as she turned the corner, bumped straight into Wayne Jackman and his cronies.
‘All right, Tampax. Where’s your mate?’ Mark Potter asked her.
‘Can you get out of my way, please?’ Tammy replied, glaring at the grinning buffoons.
‘Tell Steph that I will go out with her, but only if she sucks me dick first,’ Wayne said, laughing.
‘Steph is worth a thousand of you, Jacko. Now get out my way before I grass you up to Mr Jones.’
Pushing past the lads, Tammy heard one of them refer to her as ginger minge. Furious that it was because of their idiocy that she and Steph had fallen out, Tammy turned around to face them again. ‘You think you’re so cool and hard, don’t ya? Well you ain’t. All three of you are complete knob-ends and you seriously need to grow up.’
Thrilled that she’d had the bottle to stand up to her and Steph’s tormentors, Tammy ran towards her friend’s house with a smile on her face.
‘Steph, go round the shops and get me a carton of single cream. Lin’ll be home soon and I’m cooking her her favourite,’ Pam shouted up the stairs. She had rang the doctor’s earlier to check that Steph had been to see him and, even though she had, Pam was still positive there was nothing physically wrong with her daughter.
Stephanie stomped down the stairs. ‘But I thought Lin’s favourite was chicken soup,’ she said, sulkily.
‘It is.’
‘What do you need cream for then?’
Sick of the stroppy tone in her daughter’s voice, Pam couldn’t help but lose it as she handed her a fifty-pence piece. ‘Because I put the cream in the bastard soup! I know there’s sod all wrong with you, so get your arse round them shops before I really lose me rag. Oh, and tomorrow you’re going back to school, like it or not, young lady.’
When Stephanie slammed the front door, Pam set to work on peeling the King Edwards. Her home-made soup was more like a chicken stew and Linda loved a big dollop of buttery mashed potato with it. Pam was pleased that Linda was now having an extremely fulfilling social life. In Pam’s opinion her mother had always wrapped Linda in cotton wool and forbade her doing things that other women of her age liked to do. Since moving in with Pam, Linda’s life had evolved somewhat. She now had a job working in the local Butterkist popcorn factory, had made plenty of friends there, and was always out with her workmates. This weekend was only Linda’s second ever independent holiday. In April she had gone to a soul event in Caistor with her mates and this weekend had seen her trot off to Margate for a hen party.
‘Hang on a minute,’ Pam shouted, as she heard a loud banging on the door. She rinsed her hands under the tap, dried them on her apron and went to investigate.
‘Is Steph there?’ Tammy asked, nervously.
Unlike Angela’s best friend, Chloe, who Pam had never really liked, Pam adored Tammy. ‘Go and sit in the lounge, darling, and I’ll make you a cuppa. She’s only popped round the shop for me – she won’t be long.’
Scuttling back into the kitchen to put the kettle on, Pam smiled. Her Stephanie was a strong kid, a chip off the old block, and Pam was positive that once Steph made things up with Tammy, she’d be back to her old jolly self again.
Walking down Broad Street, Stephanie had a strange feeling that she was being followed. She bent down to tie the lace of her trainer and furtively glanced behind her. She recognized the culprit immediately. It was the same lad she’d seen in Marlene’s front garden earlier.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, the boy broke into a jog and caught up with her. ‘Hello. Barry Franklin’s the name,’ he said, holding out his right hand.
Stephanie felt her heart flutter as she stared into Barry’s handsome face. He was tall and broad with big brown doleful eyes and a killer smile. ‘I’m Steph. I’ve gotta go, me mum’s asked me to get her some cream,’ she mumbled, ignoring the handshake.
‘I’ll walk with you if you’re going to the shop. I saw you come out your house. Just moved in opposite, I have, which makes us neighbours.’
Remembering her mum and Cath’s conversations about Marlene’s hectic sex life, Steph decided to dig for gossip. ‘Are you Marlene’s new boyfriend?’ she asked, seriously.
Barry Franklin burst out laughing. ‘You’re having a giraffe, ain’t ya? Marlene’s me muvver.’
‘Tammy’s here to see you, love. She’s in the lounge,’ Pam whispered, as she ran to the front door to greet her eldest daughter.
Stephanie handed her mum the carton of cream. She was secretly pleased that Tammy had made the effort to come round, but she didn’t want to show it. ‘Tell her to come up to me room,’ she said, casually.
Thinking how much brighter her daughter looked since getting a bit of fresh air, Pam relayed the message.
Tammy cautiously opened her friend’s bedroom door. She knew Angie wasn’t at home as she’d dashed in, got changed, and shot out again about five minutes ago.
‘I’m really sorry about the other day, Steph, but I swear I only told Jacko you wanted to go out with him because you lied and said it was me that fancied Potter.’
Stephanie smiled. ‘And I’m sorry an’ all. Are we mates again?’
Tammy hugged her friend and then told her how she had stood up for her and insulted Wayne and his mates.
‘I wish I’d have seen their faces when you called them knob-ends,’ Steph said, laughing.
‘Their faces were a picture, mate. I mean, everyone’s frightened of them ’cause they’re meant to be the hardest fighters in the school, ain’t they, but I showed ’em that we ain’t scared.’
Steph nodded. ‘I’ve got some major goss for you an’ all. You know Wayne said he had a bird? You’ll never guess who it is.’
Tammy reeled off half a dozen names then, sick of being kept in suspense, begged Steph to tell her who the unlucky girl was.
‘It’s Angie,’ Stephanie said.
‘Angie who?’
‘My sister, Angie.’
‘No! Never! She’s only just turned thirteen. Oh my God! What a pervert!’ Tammy exclaimed.
‘Apparently he don’t know her age and he don’t know she goes to our school. Can you imagine what a dickhead he’ll feel when he finds out she’s only in the second year?’ Stephanie said.
‘Where did she meet him? How long they been going out?’ Tammy asked, excitedly. This was the juiciest bit of gossip she had heard in ages.
‘I dunno. I felt a right div when she first told me, as you can imagine, but I’m over it now, so I’ll find out more tonight.’
‘I can’t wait until the whole school finds out Jacko is some noncey cradle snatcher. Talk about spoil his street cred. He is gonna well get the piss taken out of him when everyone finds out,’ Tammy said, grabbing Steph by the hands and forcing her to dance. ‘Jacko is a pervert, Jacko is a pervert, la la la la, la la la la,’ she sang to the tune of the Conga.
Stephanie reluctantly joined in. She would have laughed her head off if Wayne had been dating any other thirteen-year-old girl, but seeing as it was her own flesh and blood, she couldn’t help but worry. Angela might be a stroppy little cow at times, but Steph would always love her dearly.
Cath let herself into Pam’s house with her own key. Both women had front- and back-door keys to one another’s houses, therefore never bothered to knock.
‘And where’s that dirty stop-out?’ Cath shouted out.
‘She ain’t bleedin’ home yet. Rang me from a callbox, she did. Her and the girls are having a couple of drinks in the Trades Hall apparently. All right for some, ain’t it?’
Cathy laughed. She liked Linda immensely and admired her greatly for not letting dwarfism stand in her way. ‘I treated us to a bottle of Liebfraumilch out me tips,’ Cath said, handing the bottle to Pam.
‘But it’s only Monday. We won’t get up for work tomorrow if we drink that,’ Pam complained.
‘You’ll never guess what,’ Cath said, excitedly.
‘What?’
‘I bumped into Lairy Mary up the Heathway today and she reckons the father of the old slapper’s kids is some East End gangster called Smasher Franklin.’
Pam clapped her hands in delight. ‘No! I always knew she looked like a gangster’s moll. Oh sod it, let’s open that bloody bottle of wine after all.’
Wayne Jackman put his hands on Angela Crouch’s buttocks and thrust his erection against her midriff. He really did like Angie; she reminded him facially of a young Samantha Fox, but on the downside he found her very childish at times and her parents’ strictness drove him bonkers. ‘Don’t go home yet, it’s only seven,’ he begged her.
‘I’ve gotta go home. My aunt’s coming round for dinner and my mum and dad will kill me if I’m late,’ Angela lied. She’d had to pretend that her dad was a big thug and still alive because Wayne kept insisting on walking her home. She’d also conveniently forgotten to mention that her Auntie Linda lived with them and was also a dwarf.
Wayne sighed. He had been sexually active for over a year now and Angela’s failure to participate in his favourite hobby was enough to send his frustration to another level.
‘Look, I know you’re frightened of your dad and you can’t stay out late, so what about me and you bunking off school tomorrow? I’ll get us some booze and we can listen to records in my bedroom and stuff.’
‘I can’t. My mum will kill me if she finds out I ain’t gone to school,’ Angela replied nervously. She knew sitting in Wayne’s bedroom would mean some serious kind of physical contact and she wasn’t quite ready for anything like that yet.
Wayne moved his body away from Angela’s and lit up a cigarette. ‘I think me and you should finish,’ he said, hoping his callous statement would have the desired effect.
‘I don’t wanna finish. Please don’t pack me up, Jacko, please,’ Angela begged, tears in her eyes.
‘I’ll be outside the Princess Bowl at half eight tomorrow morning. If you turn up, you’re still me girlfriend, and if you don’t, we’re finished.’
Aware that Angela was now in floods of tears, Wayne smirked and walked away.
Back in Manning Road, Stephanie was telling Tammy about her encounter with Barry Franklin. ‘He swears that he’s starting our school tomorrow and he reckons he’s gonna be in our class. I don’t believe him though, Tam. He seemed a bit of a joker, so I bet he was just winding me up.’
‘So what does he look like?’ Tammy asked.
‘He is quite good looking. I think you’d quite like him, Tam, but he definitely ain’t my type. I’m off boys anyway. Just gonna concentrate on me school work from now on. I’ll never get a good job in a bank or office in London if I don’t pass me exams.’
Tammy nodded understandingly. She was also determined to do well in her exams as she wanted a better life for herself. Many a time she and Steph had discussed living in big houses in a posh area and having unlimited funds to shop for clothes and make-up.
Hearing a knock on her bedroom door, Stephanie turned off the dulcet tones of Kid Creole and the Coconuts. ‘What?’ she yelled.
‘Lin’s home now, we’re gonna eat in a minute. Does Tammy want to stay for dinner?’
‘Yes please, Mrs Crouch,’ Tammy shouted out. Unlike her own mum, Stephanie’s was a great cook.
‘Best you come downstairs and ring your mother then,’ Pam ordered.
Stephanie ran downstairs and gave her Auntie Linda a big hug. Unlike her sister, who was embarrassed over their aunt’s lack of height, Steph adored having Lin living with them. At twenty-nine, Lin was six years younger than her mum. Steph loved her company and treated her more like an older sister than an aunt.
‘How’d you get on, Lin? Didn’t get drunk and flash at the men again, did ya?’
Linda chuckled. The last time she’d gone away with the girls to Caister they’d travelled by minibus, and on the way there Lin and two of her pals had flashed their bums at a coach-load full of blokes.
‘No, I didn’t do a moony. In fact I was the perfect lady,’ Lin replied, with a naughty twinkle in her eye.
Cathy went out into the kitchen to help Pam bring the plates in. ‘Where’s Angie?’ she asked.
‘Christ knows! She promised she would be home by seven. I’m sure the little cow’s got a new boyfriend. Been very secretive lately, she has, and I can read her like a bleedin’ book.’
‘Speak of the devil,’ Cath whispered, as the front door opened.
‘Where you been? You’re over half hour late,’ Pam yelled at her youngest daughter.
Visibly upset, Angela ignored her mother and ran straight up the stairs.
‘Go and have a word with her, Steph. Find out what’s wrong,’ Pam shouted out.
‘Come and stand outside the bedroom door,’ Steph whispered to Tammy.
‘What’s up, sis?’ Stephanie asked, entering their bedroom.
‘What do you care?’ Angie replied, wiping her eyes with her cuff.
‘Of course I care. I am your sister.’
‘It’s Jacko. He’s got the hump with me because I can never stay out that late. I think he might finish with me.’
When her sister let out a heartbroken sob, Stephanie actually felt very sorry for her. ‘Where did you meet him, Ange?’ she asked, hugging her little sister.
‘In the bowling alley at the Chequers. I’ve told him so many lies, and if he finds out I know he’ll pack me up.’
‘What exactly have you told him, then?’
‘I’ve told him I’m fifteen and I’m in the fifth year at Parsloes Manor. I’ve also told him that our dad’s still alive and he beats me up if I’m late home or I date boys.’
‘What!’ Stephanie exclaimed incredulously. Angie lying about her age was understandable, but pretending their poor deceased father was still alive and darkening his name by calling him a violent bully was despicably low, even by Angela’s standards.
‘You know Dad was a decent man, so how can you say such bad things about him?’
‘I only know what Mum’s told me about him. I don’t even remember the man. Anyway, Jacko thinks my surname is Marshall, so he ain’t gonna know I’m talking about our dad, is he?’ Angela replied, abruptly.
‘You might as well just tell him the truth, Ange, because he’s bound to spot you in school at some point.’
‘No, he won’t. All his lessons are in the upper school and mine are in the lower,’ Angela said, confidently.
Stephanie shrugged. ‘You coming down for some dinner? Lin’s home.’
‘No, I’m on a diet. Can you do me a favour, Steph? But I need you to swear you won’t say nothing to Mum.’
‘I promise I won’t tell Mum.’
‘I’m bunking off school tomorrow to spend the day with Jacko and I need you to write me a note and sign it with Mum’s signature.’
‘No way! Mum will kill both of us if she finds out,’ Stephanie said, truthfully.
‘But she won’t find out, will she? Please Steph, you’re the only one I know who can copy her handwriting – and I covered for you when you got caught at the fair.’
Stephanie debated what to do for the best. Angie was right about covering for her. Steph had sneaked off to the fair, got spotted by Lairy Mary, and Angela had sworn blind to their mum that they had been at the pictures together that day. Thankfully, their mother had believed Angie.
‘OK, I’ll do it, but only this once. Where you going with Jacko? You ain’t going round his house, are you?’
‘No, we’re gonna get a bus into Romford and hang around the shops,’ Angela lied.
‘Just be careful,’ Steph replied, as she left the room and shut the bedroom door.
‘She is such a little bitch. How you suffer her I will never know,’ Tammy whispered as the girls went back downstairs.
‘She’s only young,’ Stephanie replied, protectively.
‘Yeah, but she is such a nasty piece of work. Surely you must realize that?’
Not wanting to slag off her own flesh and blood, Stephanie shrugged. ‘Whatever she is, Tam, Angie is still my sister and I will always love her no matter what.’
CHAPTER THREE
Angela Crouch was unsure if she felt excited or petrified as she stuffed some clothes and make-up into her schoolbag. Dagenham Priory had only just introduced a uniform policy for the younger pupils, and while Steph was still allowed to attend school in her own clothes, Angela unfortunately wasn’t.
‘What am I gonna do if Jacko looks in my bag and sees my uniform, Steph?’ she asked, with panic in her voice.
‘Don’t put your bag down. You’ve no need to if you’re walking round Romford, have you?’ Stephanie replied, suspiciously. She had a gut feeling her sister was lying about where she and Wayne were supposedly going to.
‘Please walk to the Heathway with me, Steph. I’ll quickly get changed in the bogs, then you can take my bag to school with you.’
‘I ain’t lugging your poxy bag about with me all day. It’s bad enough I’ve gotta forge you a note from Mum,’ Stephanie said, angrily.
Angela had a habit of being nice to her sister when she wanted a favour in return. ‘Please Steph, I beg you. I’d do it for you. What about that time I stole that lipstick out of Boots for you because you were too frightened to nick it yourself? I’d do anything for you, you know I would.’
Staring at the look of innocence in her younger sister’s eyes, Stephanie smiled at her. ‘All right, I’ll take the poxy bag, but get your arse in gear ’cause I don’t wanna be late for school. Your lies will get you into big trouble one day, Ange, you mark my words.’
Wayne Jackman shuddered as he got into the tide-marked, stained bath. His nan had obviously forgotten to put the immersion heater on again and the water felt like ice.
Wayne had been brought up in Bonner Street, Bethnal Green. He was the only son of his parents, Jill and Lenny, and had two younger sisters, Lucy and Samantha. Wayne’s childhood was anything but perfect. His dad was always in and out of prison, and money was scarce, but he’d been happy in his own little way. One day in 1978, life had changed dramatically for Wayne when he’d arrived home one evening to find his house cordoned off. His dad had recently been released from Pentonville after serving a three-year sentence for GBH and, seeing as how the police had raided his house in the past, Wayne’s first thought was that his dad had done something bad again.
‘I live here. Let me see my mum,’ Wayne had screamed on the evening in question, trying to barge his way through the crowd of coppers.
It had been Jean, his next-door neighbour who had tearfully broken the news to him. His mother had been stabbed to death by his own father. Months later, Wayne learned the reason behind his father’s actions: his mother had been having an affair while he’d been in prison, and had got pregnant by the man he knew as Uncle Darren.
After spending a month in care, Wayne was sent to live with his dad’s parents, Doris and Bill. His sisters had already been given a home in Leicester by his mum’s sister, Kim, but she already had a son and didn’t want him. At first, Wayne had missed his sisters immensely, but over the years he’d taken his grandparents’ advice and all but forgotten about them. He had written to them twice, but they had never replied, and if they couldn’t be bothered with him, why should he worry about them?
‘Evil little whores. They’ll turn out just like their mother,’ his nan had convinced him.
Wayne was fairly happy living with his grandparents. They adored the ground he walked on, gave him plenty of money and a free rein to do whatever he wanted. The house was a total shithole and his nan and grandad were heavy drinkers, but neither of these things particularly bothered Wayne. As long as he was clean and wore nice clothes, how they lived their lives was none of his business.
‘All right, boy? Whaddya want for breakfast?’ Doris asked her grandson as he sauntered down the stairs.
‘Just toast. I’ve gotta go and meet me bird. You’re still going out, ain’t ya?’
Rolling an Old Holborn cigarette, Bill chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, me and your grandmother won’t stop you from sowing your wild oats, will we, Doll?’
‘You just make sure you don’t fall head over heels for her, Wayne. You don’t want to end up in the same situation as your father, do you now?’ Doris warned her grandson.
Not for one minute did Doris or Bill even think that their beloved son was in the wrong for stabbing his wife twenty-six times with a bread knife. In their eyes, the slag he’d married deserved her grizzly ending for betraying their Lenny in the way that she had.
‘Roll us a snout, Grandad, I ain’t got none till I go out.’
Doris handed her grandson two pieces of burnt toast, then fished through her purse for some money. Neither she nor Bill had worked for years, but they had all their Lenny’s money hidden under the floorboards upstairs and he had told them to help themselves to it. What with their pensions and their regular wins on the horses, Doris and Bill lived their lives to the full.
‘Get her a bit drunk, have your wicked way, then fucking well dump her,’ Doris cackled, as she put a five-pound note in the palm of her grandson’s hand.
Wayne chuckled, stood up and grabbed his jacket. He’d always found it funny that his nan had tits and a fanny herself yet harboured a hatred towards other women. Apart from her mate, Big Brenda, who she drank with in the Millhouse, all of his nan’s friends were male.
‘And don’t forget to use a dunky. You don’t wanna get the little tart up the spout,’ Bill yelled, as Wayne opened the front door.
‘I won’t forget,’ Wayne shouted back. Then, with a grin of expectation on his face, he headed off to meet Angie.
Due to her vain younger sister taking forever to do her make-up in the public toilets at the Heathway, Stephanie Crouch was ten minutes late for school. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss,’ she said, as she barged breathless into the classroom.
‘Is that him?’ Tammy whispered in Steph’s ear, as she sat down at her desk.
‘Is what who?’ Steph replied, perplexed.
When Tammy pointed to the right-hand side of the classroom, Steph looked around and felt her heart start to beat nineteen to the dozen. It was Barry Franklin and he was grinning at her.
‘Well?’ Tammy asked, excitedly.
‘Shut up,’ Stephanie hissed.
Aware that Steph’s face had turned a bright shade of red, Tammy smirked knowingly.
‘Now we are all here, I would like to introduce you to our new classmate. Would you like to come to the front?’ Miss Pratt said, gesticulating to Barry.
‘I’m quite capable of introducing meself, if that’s OK?’ Barry said, as he strolled to the front of the classroom, full of confidence.
As he caught her eye and winked at her, Stephanie immediately looked away. Barry Franklin seemed to be having a worse effect on her than Wayne Jackman had and she would not allow herself to be humiliated again. Not now, not ever.
Angela Crouch was a bag of nerves as she sat gingerly on the edge of Wayne Jackman’s bed. Wayne looked absolutely gorgeous today. He was wearing a pure white Sergio Tacchini tracksuit which seemed to make his blonde wedge haircut and piercing blue eyes stand out even more than usual.
‘Cider? Lager? Or Scotch?’ Wayne asked his girlfriend.
Unlike her sister, who drank regularly at weekends, Angela had barely ever touched the stuff but, not wanting to act like a kid, she opted for Scotch.
‘Are you OK?’ Wayne asked, as she took a sip and promptly started to choke. ‘Yeah, I’m cool. Went down the wrong hole,’ Angela gasped.
‘You sure you don’t want lager or cider instead?’
‘No, I always drink Scotch,’ Angela lied, taking another sip.
‘What do you wanna listen to? How about the Fatback Band?’ Wayne suggested.
‘Yeah, I love that,’ Angela lied. She actually had no idea who the Fatback Band were. She was more into Kajagoogoo and Culture Club herself.
Singing the words to ‘I Found Loving’, Wayne sat down next to Angela and pushed her into a backwards position on the bed. ‘You make me feel really horny, do you know that?’ he panted, as he fondled her breasts.
Still feeling extremely edgy, Angela pushed him off her and sat up. ‘Can we have some more drink and play some music before we get off with one another? We’ve got all day, ain’t we?’ she asked, fearfully.
Sensing her anxiety, but also sensing that there was a good chance he was going to get his end away later, Wayne sat up and smiled at Angela. ‘Your wish is my command, babe.’
At lunchtimes, Stephanie and Tammy had a regular routine. Firstly, they would walk to the little tuck shop which was a spit’s throw from the school. The nice man in there would sell cigarettes singly to the schoolchildren for ten pence each and Steph and Tammy took full advantage of his kindness. From there, the girls would walk round to Broad Street where there was a parade of shops and a small indoor market. The girls’ lunch usually consisted of a bag of chips from the local chippy, but occasionally, if they were feeling flush, they would buy a burger in the café and sit in there and eat it.
‘Look, Barry Franklin’s standing outside the chippy on his own. Let’s go and talk to him, shall we? It must be horrible starting a new school when you don’t know anyone, and he said when he introduced himself that he came from Bethnal Green,’ Tammy said.
Lighting up the Player’s Number One that she’d just purchased in the tuck shop, Stephanie felt hot and flustered but did her utmost to look and sound cool. ‘Just walk past him. I can’t be arsed talking to boys no more.’
‘You like him. I can tell,’ Tammy said, teasingly.
‘No I fucking don’t! Now shut up, and if you say anything to him, I’ll never forgive you,’ Steph replied, angrily.
‘All right, ladies. Mind if I tag along with you? I don’t really know anyone yet and I feel a right plonker standing ’ere on me own,’ Barry asked, staring at Steph.
Unable to hold his gaze, Stephanie looked down at her feet. ‘We’ve gotta go somewhere, ain’t we, Tam?’ she mumbled.
Tammy ignored her friend’s awkwardness and smiled at Barry. Unlike Wayne Jackman, Barry seemed like a decent lad and there was no way she was going to leave him standing outside the chip shop on his own. ‘We’re only going to the café in Broad Street market. You can come with us if you like.’
Barry grinned. ‘Cheers, girls, and to repay you for your kindness, lunch is on me.’
Over in Digby Gardens, Angela’s earlier nerves had now disappeared and she felt both woozy and extremely confident. ‘Can I have another Scotch?’ she asked Wayne. At first, Angie had found the drink tasted horrendous, but after a couple of glasses, she’d sort of got used to the taste and she enjoyed the floating feeling that came with drinking it.
‘Gissa kiss now, babe,’ Wayne urged, as he handed Angela her drink.
Giggling, Angie pushed him away. She knocked her drink back in one gulp, then stood up. ‘If you let me choose some music, then you can have more than a kiss,’ she said, seductively.
Wayne grinned broadly. ‘Tell me what records you want on, and if I’ve got ’em, I’ll play ’em for you.’
‘You got any Kajagoogoo or Culture Club?’ Angie asked.
Wayne burst out laughing. ‘No I ain’t! That’s little kids’ music.’
Feeling her face redden as she remembered her own age, Angela thought of the bands her elder sister liked. ‘What about Duran Duran or Soft Cell?’ she asked, composing herself once more.
‘I’ve got Soft Cell. “Tainted Love” is one of my favourite songs ever. What’s yours?’ Wayne asked.
‘“Tainted Love” is my favourite song an’ all,’ Angela replied. Steph used to play it all the time in their room and it had sort of grown on Angie over the past year or so.
Wayne put the seven-inch single onto his record player and set the arm so it would automatically repeat itself.
‘I love you Jacko,’ Angela said childishly, as Wayne positioned his body on top of hers.
‘Take your top and knickers off,’ Wayne ordered, his voice husky with lust.
‘You’re fucking beautiful, babe,’ he whispered truthfully, when Angela stood completely naked in front of him. Her breasts weren’t as big as some of the girls he’d slept with, but other than that, she was perfect.
Angela stared at Wayne as he took off his tracksuit top. His torso was fit and firm and he had one of them six-packs like she’d seen on some of the pop stars whose images were pinned up on her bedroom wall. When he took off his bottoms and put a rubber thing on his penis, Angela felt her nerves momentarily return. She had never seen a willy in real life before, and Wayne’s was not only bigger than she had expected, but it was also sticking up in the air like a flagpole.
‘I want you so much,’ Wayne mumbled, as he pushed her back onto the bed and got on top of her.
‘You’re hurting me,’ Angela cried, as Wayne tried to ram his penis inside her.
‘Ain’t you done this before?’ Wayne asked, surprised.
‘Tell me if you’ve done it before and then I’ll tell you if I have,’ Angie replied, showing her true age once more.
‘Yeah, I’ve done it loads of times,’ Wayne bragged.
‘And me,’ Angela lied.
Now he knew she wasn’t a virgin, Wayne roughly thrust himself inside her.
Angela bit her lip to stop herself from screaming out in pain. A minute or so later, Wayne let out a funny groan and rolled onto his back. ‘That was fucking amazing! Did you enjoy it, babe?’ he asked, with a big smile on his face.
Angela nodded and tried to block the awful experience from her mind by concentrating on Marc Almond’s voice. Angela had expected having sex for the first time would be pleasurable and romantic, but Wayne hadn’t even kissed her during it. All he had done was get on top of her and then hurt her by shoving his big thingy up her.
‘Do you want to do it again?’ Wayne asked, putting a comforting arm around Angela. He had just noticed the blood on the end of his penis, so now guessed she had lied and it was her first time.
‘Not yet. Let’s have another drink first and listen to the music for a bit,’ Angie replied, miserably.
As a happy Wayne leapt off the bed to pour the drinks, he sang at the top of his voice to the chorus of the song.
Wanting to cry, Angela shut her eyes. If what she had just experienced was meant to be love, then the words in the song must be right: it was bloody tainted.
Tammy Andrews lived in the opposite direction to Stephanie, so they arranged to meet that evening and said goodbye outside the school gates. Carrying her own schoolbag on one shoulder and her sister’s bag on the other, Steph set off to meet Angie outside the public toilets at the bottom of the Heathway Hill.
‘’Ere, let me carry your bags for you. I’m walking your way,’ Barry said, as he caught up with Steph.
‘Nah, it’s all right. I ain’t going straight home. Gotta meet my sister at the Heathway. One of these bags belongs to her.’
‘Well I’ll walk to the Heathway with you then. Give us that bigger bag ’ere, I can see you’re struggling.’
‘Thanks,’ Steph said, as she handed him her sister’s sports bag. Barry had been such a gentleman in the café earlier. He had insisted on paying for her and Tammy’s cheeseburger and chips, and had even bought them a packet of ten Benson to share. When Steph had first laid eyes on Barry, she had known he reminded her of someone famous, and while sitting in the café it came to her who it was. She had recently seen the film The Outsiders and Barry Franklin was the spitting image of the boy she’d fancied in that. Tammy had told her when they’d left the café that the actor in the film who looked like Barry was called Matt Dillon.
‘So how old’s your sister then? And why you got her bag?’ Barry asked, breaking the silence.
‘Angie’s thirteen and I’ve got her bag ’cause the little cow bunked off school today. Does my head in, she does, but I do love her. You won’t tell your mum she bunked off, will you? If mine finds out, she’ll kill her.’
Barry chuckled. ‘I might be a lot of things but I ain’t a grass, girl. Where I come from, grasses get shot.’
‘Why did you buy me and Tam fags and lunch? It was a nice thing to do, but why did you do it?’ Stephanie asked, suspiciously. Her mum had drummed it into her from an early age never to let a boy buy her anything because they would always expect something in return.
‘I bought you fags and lunch ’cause I like you. Where I come from, that’s what boys do when they like a girl.’
Feeling her stomach start to somersault, Stephanie looked away from Barry’s intense gaze. ‘I can take the bag from ’ere. I’ll see you tomorrow at school,’ she said, annoyed with herself for feeling the way she did.
Barry handed her the bag and at the same time grasped her hand. ‘Let me take you out, Steph? I work, so I can afford to take you anywhere you wanna go. You choose and I’ll pay.’
Feeling her hand start to shake, Stephanie snatched it away from Barry’s and stared at the pavement. Wayne had humiliated her beyond belief and she didn’t fancy a repeat performance of that. ‘I dunno,’ she replied, with an ill-at-ease tone to her voice. She felt confused. Wayne was the first boy she had ever really liked, and now she felt the same about Barry. Did all fourteen year olds fall in and out of love so quickly? Tammy had never had a real boyfriend, so she would have to ask some of her other school friends if her feelings were normal.
Barry grinned. He knew that Steph liked him and would eventually say yes, so he decided to give her some space. ‘Look, I’m gonna shoot off now. Why don’t you give me your answer tomorrow lunchtime? I won’t ask you in class, I’ll meet you and Tam down the café again and you can tell me there.’
‘OK,’ Steph replied, not knowing what else to say.
Pecking her on the cheek, Barry Franklin ran off while Steph stood rooted to the spot.
Angela Crouch stood outside the public toilets feeling like a woman rather than a child. Her and Wayne had done it four times and each fresh attempt had been more pleasurable for Angie than the previous. The bit she’d enjoyed the most was when Wayne had put his finger between the lips of her vagina and moved it up and down. That had felt really good, and at one point she had felt really weird, like she wanted to scream out with joy. Unfortunately, though, Wayne had then stopped.
Seeing Stephanie approaching the pedestrian crossing, Angela ran across the road towards her. ‘Thanks, sis, I owe you one,’ she said, as she took her bag off her.
‘How was your day? Did you and Jacko have a laugh in Romford?’ Steph asked, chirpily.
‘Yeah, we had a brill time. Why you looking so happy? Has something happened?’ Angela asked, suspiciously.
Desperate to tell someone her wonderful news, Stephanie made her sister promise not to tell their mum.
‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ Angie swore.
Stephanie explained all about Barry, without leaving out any detail. ‘He paid for our lunches, bought us some snout and he says he’ll take me anywhere I want to go. He works at weekends as what’s called a fly pitcher – like a market trader – and he’s the image of that famous actor, Matt Dillon. Oh Ange, he is gorgeous, and he only lives across the road to us. I can even stare at him through our bedroom window.’
Angela was baffled. To her knowledge there was no handsome boy living across the road to them, and she fleetingly wondered if her sister was making the whole story up. ‘I dunno who you mean, Steph. The only boy anywhere near our age living over the road is four-eyed Timmy, and he certainly don’t look like Matt Dillon. You ain’t making it up ’cause you’re jealous of me and Jacko, are you?’
Stephanie laughed and shook her head in disbelief. Her sister was so self-centred, everything was always about her, her, her. ‘Barry’s only just moved in. He’s Marlene’s son.’
‘Oh my God! Mum will go mad if she finds out you’re going out with the old slapper’s boy,’ Angie exclaimed.
‘Well, she ain’t gonna find out, is she? Don’t you dare tell her, Ange, ’cause if you do, I shall tell her about you and Jacko and I’ll tell her you bunked off school as well.’
Angela shot her sister a disdainful look. ‘I swear I won’t say anything, OK? But, I’m telling you now, when Mum does find out, she will go mental.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Dressed in faded Levi jeans, a navy Lacoste jumper and white Nike trainers, Barry Franklin put on his grey flat cap and grinned at his reflection in the mirror. He was very aware of how cheeky and good looking he was, but he wasn’t big headed about it.
‘Why ain’t you at work?’ his mother asked accusingly, as she crept up behind him. Even though Barry was only fourteen, now he was living with her again, Marlene expected him to pay his way by bunging her the odd fiver or tenner here and there.
‘I took the day off. I’m taking a bird out instead,’ Barry replied, truthfully. He had always had a difficult relationship with his mother, and had only moved back in with her because his dad was up in court again next week and was guaranteed to get another little holiday at Her Majesty’s Pleasure.
‘If you’ve got money to spend on some little tart, then you can pay me some housekeeping,’ Marlene spat, holding out her right hand.
Barry handed his mother a tenner. ‘Where you off to today, Mum? You look well smart,’ Barry said, politely.
‘I’m going out with Marge. She’s found a proper little boozer over in South London. Reckons it’s full of villains and they don’t let the women buy a drink in there. I need to find meself a decent man who will look after me. I don’t like this bleedin’ Dagenham. A woman such as I deserves to live somewhere better, Barry.’
Even though he didn’t think his mother deserved sod all, Barry nodded in agreement. His dad said leaving his mum was the best move he had ever made, and he had been furious that she had kept his surname after their divorce. ‘Fucking old rotter she is. Only kept my name to give herself some undeserved street cred,’ his dad ranted on a regular basis.
‘So where you taking this bird and who is she?’ Marlene asked, nosily.
Stephanie had told him that her mum was very strict about her dating boys, so knowing what a loud-mouth his mother could be, Barry decided to lie about her identity. ‘Her name’s Sue and she’s in my class at school,’ he said. ‘I’m taking her up Roman Road, then I might show her around our old stamping ground.’
Marlene sneered. ‘If you see that wanker of a father of yours, remind him he has an ex-wife and a pregnant daughter who are both skint.’
Barry nodded. His dad, Smasher, had been appalled when he had found out his sister Chantelle was pregnant by an Indian drug dealer from Ilford. ‘Dirty little whore she is. Like mother like daughter. I want no more to do with her, son, and I ain’t having no Paki kid calling me grandad,’ Smasher had screamed on learning the news.
Pecking his mother politely on the cheek, Barry picked up his fags, lighter and door key. He wasn’t due to meet Stephanie for another hour but, as always, his mother was doing his head in and he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
Due to enduring a mild bout of gastroenteritis, Pam and Cathy had both been off work for the past two days.
‘How you feeling, girl? I’m on the mend, I think,’ Cathy shouted, as she let herself into Pam’s house.
‘I’ve still got the shits, but I feel a lot better than I did,’ Pam replied.
‘Ere, wanna hear the latest?’ Cathy asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Lairy Mary popped round yesterday. She reckons that the old slapper’s daughter is pregnant by some Indian fella who’s inside for possessing heroin. He comes out next week, so Mary reckons.’
Pam put her hand over her mouth in shock. ‘What a scumbag family they are! That young boy we saw moving his stuff in last week is the old slapper’s son, apparently. Edna next-door-but-one reckons he’s started at Priory. I hope they don’t put him in either of my girls’ classes. He looks more Steph’s age than my Angie’s.’
‘Yous two talking about us?’ Angela shouted as she galloped down the stairs, followed by her sister.
For the second time in minutes, Pam stood with her jaw wide open. Both her daughters had lipstick and mascara on and Angela had gone one step further by plastering her eyelids with bright green eyeshadow.
‘Where’re yous two off to, all done up to the nines?’
‘Just out,’ Angela replied, stroppily.
‘Out where? Yous pair got boyfriends or something?’ Pam replied, knowingly.
‘No! We’re just meeting some friends over the park,’ Stephanie lied.
Knowing that turning the tables was always the best way out of a difficult situation, Angela immediately turned them. ‘Me and Steph wanna know why you were talking about us? What we done wrong now?’ she asked, accusingly.
‘We weren’t saying anything detrimental against you girls, were we, Cath?’
‘No. We was talking about the old slapper’s son across the road. He’s started your school by all accounts, and your mother said she hoped he weren’t in any of your classes.’
Unable to stop herself, Angie started to giggle.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Stephanie said, grabbing her sister roughly by the arm.
‘I weren’t born yesterday, you know. In your opinion I might be past me sell-by date, but I ain’t bleedin’ simple. I know you’ve got boyfriends and I shall find out who they are,’ Pam shouted angrily as the front door slammed.
Cathy raised her eyebrows. ‘Girls, eh! Who’d have ’em?’
Bill Jackman was quite pleased that his grandson was stuffing a bit of fluff, but his wife had her concerns about the situation and had insisted on hanging around to meet the girl.
Wayne agreed to the introduction. As long as his grandparents didn’t cramp his style, he didn’t care what they did. He knew he was lucky to be allowed to have the house to himself to bed a girl, none of his friends were, and he couldn’t wait to have sex with Angela again. He had seen her every evening this week, but she’d flatly refused to let him have his wicked way with her over the park, even though he’d begged her. When the doorbell rang, Wayne bolted into the hallway. ‘All right, babe? Come and say hello to me nan and grandad,’ he said, dragging Angela into the lounge.
‘Hello,’ Angela said, awkwardly staring at her feet. If they sussed her real age, she was dead meat.
‘Nice to meet you, love. Our Wayne says you live with your mum and dad near the Heathway. Is that right?’ Doris probed, nosily.
‘Yeah,’ Angela replied.
‘What’s your mum and dad’s names? I’m always up that Heathway.’
‘Pam and David Marshall,’ Angela lied.
‘Come on, Doll. Let’s leave the kids to play records and stuff,’ Bill urged, gently shoving his wife out of the room.
‘Well? Pretty little thing, wasn’t she?’ Bill asked as he shut the front door.
‘Horrible little cunt! Couldn’t even look me in the eye – and if she’s fifteen like our Wayne says she is, then I’m fucking Doris Day.’
Barry and Stephanie took the District Line train to Bow Road Station and then had a ten-minute walk to get to the market. ‘Have you been up ’ere before?’ Barry asked.
‘Yeah. My mum comes from Bow and my grandad still lives here. We ain’t been to visit him for ages though. I was only about twelve last time I came to the market, I think.’
‘Do you wanna pop in and see your grandad while we’re up this way? I’ll wait for you outside if you like,’ Barry asked, thoughtfully.
‘Nah. He’ll probably be in the pub anyway,’ Stephanie replied, truthfully.
Stephanie felt her heart flip as Barry held her hand. Her nerves hadn’t embarrassed her so far today, but the feel of Barry’s warm hand pressing against her own felt like an electric shock entering her system. ‘Let’s have a fag,’ she said, snatching her hand away and riffling through her small silver shoulder bag.
‘What time you gotta be back later?’
‘Ten. Are we hanging about up here all day or going back to the Heathway later?’
‘Firstly, I’m gonna introduce you to the geezer I work for. Then, I’ll treat you to lunch. We can have a mooch up and down the market, then I’m gonna take you up to Bethnal Green to show you where I come from. Our last stop will be the Bishop Bonner pub. It’s where my dad drinks and I really want you to meet him.’
‘I can’t meet your dad, Bal. Say he tells your mum and then my mum finds out?’ Stephanie replied, horrified.
Tilting Stephanie’s chin upwards so that she made eye contact with him, Barry treated her to his killer smile. ‘Look, babe, I know you don’t want your mum to know that we’ve been out together and I can understand why. No one wants their daughter associated with a muvver like mine, but my dad’s a good geezer. He’s gotta go away for a while next week and, seeing as you’re the first girl I’ve ever really liked, I’d be well chuffed if you’d meet him. He’ll adore you, I know he will.’
Stephanie’s heart was pounding at twice its normal rate. Did Barry just say that she was the first girl he had ever really liked, or had her ears deceived her? ‘OK, I’ll meet him then,’ she croaked.
Wayne and Angela spent the whole afternoon at it like rabbits. After her initial painful experience, Angela had taken to sex like a duck takes to water and had even learnt the art of giving a blow job.
‘Suck it again for me, Ange. It’s your fault it keeps getting hard,’ Wayne said, bluntly.
Angela smiled. Wayne had told her earlier that she gave him the best sex he’d ever had and Angie liked to feel indispensable.
‘Do you love me, Jacko?’ she asked him coyly.
Desperate to feel her plump warm lips around his penis again, Wayne nodded. ‘Yeah, of course I love you, babe.’
Stephanie Crouch shook hands with Barry’s boss, Steve. Most Indian people Steph had met before, including the two boys in her class at school, were very reserved, kept themselves to themselves and spoke in weird accents, but Steve was entirely different. He was loud, funny and sounded more cockney than she did. When Barry had first told her he was a fly pitcher, Steph hadn’t quite understood the occupation. She hadn’t wanted to ask in case she made herself look silly, but now she knew exactly what Barry did. A fly pitcher was someone who hadn’t been given a pitch by the council so stood on a street corner selling their wares. Steve and Barry sold kingsize bath towels, and Barry would act as a look-out for the police and market inspectors while Steve used his witty sales patter to charm the public.
‘Do you ever get caught?’ Steph asked, as they said goodbye to Steve.
‘Nah, and even if we do we only get a slap on the wrists. Got eyes in the back of me head, me,’ Barry replied, laughing.
Stephanie smiled broadly as Barry held her hand again. Everybody knew him down Roman Road market and she could sense how popular he was with the other traders. ‘That’s a nice top, ain’t it?’ she said, pointing at an off-the-shoulder baggy red sweatshirt.
Barry dragged her over to the stall she was pointing at. ‘Bag me up one of them red sweatshirts please, Joanie,’ he ordered the lady who was serving.
‘I can’t let you buy that for me,’ Stephanie said, amazed by Barry’s generosity.
Handing Steph the sweatshirt in a carrier bag, Barry turned towards her. ‘I really do like you, Steph. Please say you’ll be my girl?’
Barely able to believe her luck, a completely besotted Stephanie nodded her head with glee.
Marlene Franklin was sitting opposite her friend Marge in the Albion pub in Woolwich. Marge’s real name was Karen, but she had earned her nickname because her legs tended to spread quicker then Stork margarine. The name didn’t bother Marge at all. She loved sex, always had done, and if people were jealous of her success rate with the male gender, then that was their bloody problem.
‘Does this dress look all right? You can’t see me knickers when I walk, can you?’ Marlene asked her pal as she returned from the Ladies.
‘No, you look stunning, mate, and them blokes in the corner can’t take their eyes off you,’ Marge replied, truthfully.
Pouting her lips just like the models did, Marlene sat down and crossed one leg seductively over the other. At thirty years old, Marlene still looked rather youthful for her age, and with her bright red lipstick, false black eyelashes, and thick blonde hair that she curled herself with heated rollers, Marlene considered herself to be the spitting image of Marilyn Monroe. Today, she had made a special effort and had worn the short, leopard-skin dress that she had stolen from a designer boutique in Hornchurch. Marlene was an expert at shoplifting. She would always wear bulky clothes to go out shopping, would try lots of items on in the fitting room, then would walk out with her favourite underneath her own outfit.
Marlene smiled coyly as an elderly man in a tan Crombie-style coat winked at her. She knew he couldn’t take his eyes off her fishnet stockings and high-heeled black suede shoes, and who could blame him?
‘So have you finished with that Winston now?’ Marge asked her friend.
Marlene took a sip of her gin and tonic. If the men didn’t start buying them drinks soon, they would have to start ordering halves of lager just to make their money last out. ‘Yep. I made him buy me a load of shopping at Sainsbury’s last weekend, then told him I couldn’t see him no more as I felt guilty he had a wife. Gutted he was, even rang me up on Monday crying, but I warned him if he contacts me again I was gonna go round his house and tell his wife everything.’
‘I thought he was quite handsome. He had a fit body,’ Marge said. She had a thing about black men and had been quite jealous when she had first laid eyes on Winston.
‘He had a big black cock, I know that much. Made my bleedin’ eyes water, it did,’ Marlene said, laughing.
‘You must be mad finishing with him.’
‘Didn’t have enough money for me, mate. A Ford worker is hardly gonna keep me in a life of luxury, is he? Especially a married one with three poxy brats.’
‘Don’t look now, but I think that old bloke’s coming over,’ Marge said, nudging her pal.
‘Good afternoon, ladies. I was wondering if you’d allow me the honour of buying you both a drink,’ the man asked, resting his gaze firmly on Marlene.
Marlene smiled. The man was old, short and was certainly no looker, but he reeked of money from his Rolex watch to his shiny leather shoes. Marge had never been backwards in coming forwards. ‘Yes please, mate, we’ll have two large gin and tonics.’
When the man pulled an enormous wad of fifty-pound notes out of his pocket, Marlene’s eyes lit up like beacons. She waited until he walked up to the bar and then turned to her friend. ‘I’m gonna snare this cunt, Marge. Watch and learn, girl.’
Stephanie Crouch was enjoying one of the best days out she had ever had in her life. After Barry had bought her the red sweatshirt, he had insisted on buying her pie and mash for lunch. He’d then bought her a red rose off the flower stall, two drinks in the Needle Gun pub, and UB40’s new single ‘Red Red Wine’, which Stephanie absolutely adored.
‘I’ve had such a fab day, Barry, thanks ever so much,’ she said, joyfully. She had never had a proper boyfriend before, and walking along Roman Road holding Barry’s arm felt that good, she thought she might burst with happiness.
‘The day ain’t over yet, babe. We’re going to meet me old man now.’
‘Is his real name Smasher?’ Stephanie asked, seriously.
Barry laughed. Steph’s naivety was one of the things that endeared her to him so much. ‘Nah. His real name is Barry. I was obviously named after him, but everyone calls him Smasher as he used to be a fighter years ago. He used to smash everyone’s lights out, he did – hence his nickname.’
‘Really?’ Steph exclaimed.
‘Yeah, back in the day he used to fight for money. They were illegal bouts, but he’s proper hard my dad. Only ever lost twice in his life, he did.’
‘So, where’s he going on holiday then?’
‘What you on about?’ Barry asked, bemused.
‘You said he was going away next week,’ Stephanie reminded him.
‘He’s going to prison, Steph, not Butlins. He got caught with a lorry-load of knocked-off TVs,’ Barry said, chuckling.
Feeling a bit stupid, Steph quickly changed the subject. ‘Whaddya wanna do when you leave school, Bal?’
‘I wanna be just like me dad. He’s always wheeled and dealed and he’s loaded. I don’t mind the markets, but I ain’t never gonna work nine to five for some mug who orders me about. I’m clued up enough to get by without all that. What do you wanna do, girl?’
‘I want to get a good job in a bank or an office up town. My typing teacher, Mrs Belson, reckons I’d make a brilliant secretary. I think one day I’d like to run my own business, but not until I’m much older.’
‘A girl with ambition, eh? That’s what I love about you, Steph.’
At the mention of the word love, Stephanie felt her face turn beetroot red and she quickly changed the subject once again. ‘I bet it’s horrible for you starting at a school where you don’t know no one, ain’t it? Have you made friends with any of the boys yet?’
‘Don’t you worry about me. Get on with most people, I do. Anyway, I’ve got a good pal in the year above us. He used to live across the road from me in Bethnal Green and we used to hang around together as kids. Saved me life once, he did, when I was a nipper. I couldn’t swim and I fell into a river. He jumped in and dragged me out.
‘Aah, that’s nice. What’s his name? I might know him.’
‘His name’s Wayne, babe. Wayne Jackman.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Cath had just unscrewed the lid on her and Pam’s Saturday treat, when there was a tap-tap at the front door. Busy cutting up a giant-sized pork and egg pie, Pam turned to her friend. ‘Answer that for me, Cath.’
Cath did as she was told and ran back into the kitchen. ‘It’s the police, Pam. They wanna speak to you, mate.’
Pam immediately thought that one of her girls had had an accident and, ashen-faced, ran to the door with the big knife still in her hand.
‘Whatever’s wrong? Is it my daughter?’ she gabbled, near to tears. The police had turned up on her doorstep like this on the day that her wonderful husband had been killed, and just the sight of the PC brought back terrible memories for her.
‘Do you mind putting that knife down, Mrs Crouch?’ the officer said in a jovial tone.
‘Is it my Steph? Or is it my Angie?’ Pam cried, handing the knife to Cathy who was now standing by her side.
Realizing that Mrs Crouch was becoming very distraught, the young PC held his hands up, palms facing her. ‘Calm down. It’s nothing too serious. Can you just confirm that you have a sister called Linda Tate? And if so, we need confirmation that she lives here with you.’
‘Yeah, Linda lives here. She’s my younger sister. Is she OK? What’s wrong with her?’ Pam asked, in a panic-stricken tone.
The young PC smirked. ‘Nothing, unless you count being extremely drunk. There was a minor incident earlier in the Trades Hall Social Club, Mrs Crouch, and when our officers arrived at the scene, your sister tried to attack the female PC. We had to arrest her, and she will receive a caution for being drunk and disorderly. No charges will be brought against her for the attack on the policewoman, as there was no real harm done.’
Pam gasped. She was mortified. ‘I am so sorry, officer, and I can assure you nothing like this will ever happen again. As you are probably aware, Linda suffers from dwarfism, and because of this she gets drunk very quickly. I shall be having a serious chat with her later, don’t you worry about that. Is she on her way home now?’
‘No. We thought it best to let her sober up a bit first, and then we’ll either get an officer to drive her home or call her a cab. I wouldn’t be too hard on her. Linda has been rather amusing back at the station. She originally gave us her name and address as the Queen Mother who lived at Buckingham Palace.’
Pam was fuming. ‘I’ll give her the Queen Mother when she gets home here, officer. Thank you for being so understanding. Linda’s condition makes life difficult for her at times, if you know what I mean?’
When the officer nodded understandingly and walked back to his colleague who was waiting in the car, Cathy burst out laughing.
‘Don’t laugh, it ain’t funny,’ Pam said, cursing her younger sister under her breath.
‘I’m sorry, mate, but she is a fucking case, your Linda. The Queen Mother, Buckingham Palace. What must the Old Bill have thought of her? And she’s tried to beat up one of ’em.’
Unable to see the humorous side of her sister’s outrageous behaviour, Pam shook her head in despair.
Stephanie Crouch was as quiet as a mouse as she sat down at a table in the Bishop Bonner pub. The knowledge that Barry and Wayne Jackman were pals had left her with a feeling of uneasiness and she didn’t quite know how to handle the situation. She was positive that if Barry found out that she had recently asked Wayne out, he would then finish with her himself.
‘You all right, babe? You’ve gone ever so quiet on me. What’s up?’ Barry asked, handing Angie half a cider and sitting down next to her.
‘Nothing. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all,’ Stephanie fibbed.
Barry could smell a lie a mile off. ‘Is it me dad? I know he comes across as a bit intimidating, but he’s such a top geezer when you get to know him, Steph. He was only winding you up when he took the piss out of your ripped jeans. He didn’t mean it nastily.’
Glancing over at the bar where Smasher Franklin was standing with his pals, Stephanie managed a weak smile. Barry’s dad had looked daunting to begin with. He was tall, had enormous muscles, a squashed nose and three scars plastered across his weather-beaten face, but he’d won Steph over immediately with his wit and charm.
‘I really liked your dad. He is so funny, Barry, and I wish I had a dad like him. Mine died when I was little and I never really knew him at all.’
Chuffed to bits that the introduction had gone so well, Barry leant towards Steph and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Now we’re together, he’ll sort of be your dad an’ all, won’t he? You’re always gonna be my girl, Steph.’
Looking at the intensity in Barry’s eyes, Stephanie’s heart was filled with happiness, but also dread. Asking Wayne Jackman out could prove to be the biggest mistake of her life, and if it ruined her relationship with Barry, she would never forgive herself for being such an idiot.
After spending most of the day entwined in a variety of sexual positions, Wayne and Angela were now sitting at the entrance to The Mall on Heathway Hill, drinking a bottle of cider.
‘This is boring sitting ’ere, I feel like a kid. Let’s go down the Princess Bowl, eh?’ Wayne suggested.
The Princess Bowl was where Angela had first met Wayne, but because so many kids from their school hung about there, now she and Wayne were actually together, Angie was worried about being seen there with him. One day, when she was older, she would tell Wayne that she had lied about her age, but she didn’t want it coming out just yet.
‘I like it when it’s just me and you, Jacko. All your mates will be down the bowling alley and I’ll be bored if you’re talking to them.’
Wayne sighed. He liked Angie, but her childishness did his head in at times. If she wasn’t such a good shag, he would have probably dumped her by now.
Over in South London, Marlene Franklin was sitting in a Chinese restaurant in Bermondsey, having a whale of a time with the gentleman she had met in the pub earlier.
‘So why do people call you Jake the Snake then?’ Marlene asked, giggling. She rarely had the opportunity to drink herself senseless on expensive champagne, so had been indulging herself in the stuff, big time.
Jake Chaplin was a short, unattractive, pointy-nosed, fifty-two-year old South London villain. He was an extremely clever fraudster and had made plenty of money over the years by selling gullible people properties and timeshares that had ceased to exist. Clicking his fingers to indicate to the waiter that he required yet another bottle of champagne, Jake grinned at Marlene.
‘People call me Jake the Snake because I’m as slippery as a boa constrictor. Slithered out of many a difficult situation over the years, I have, Marlene. I’m a very clever man, darling.’ When Jake laughed out loud and lit up yet another cigarette, Marlene ignored his awful yellow teeth, his weaselly looking face, and his spindly, nicotine-stained hands. All she saw was money and a ticket out of Dagenham.
‘Do you think Marge will be all right with your mate?’ Marlene asked, pretending to be concerned. She knew Marge would be all right if she spent the night with the entire England rugby squad.
Jake chuckled. ‘They don’t call my mate Donkey Dave for nothing, you know. I’m sure he’ll show your friend Marge a good time, if you know what I mean?’
Fluttering her eyelashes and pouting seductively at Jake, Marlene squeezed his bony hand. ‘And what about you? Do you know how to treat a lady?’
Jake the Snake licked his thin lips in pure anticipation. He’d never struggled pulling women, because of who he was, but it had been a good few years since he had pulled one as pretty and young as Marlene. Looking lovingly into her eyes, Jake grinned. ‘Tomorrow, my dear, you and I are going shopping. I will spoil you something rotten, and if you treat me kindly in return, I can guarantee that you will never want for anything ever again in your entire life.’
Leaning forward, Marlene locked lips with Jake. When his tongue entered her mouth, for a split second she felt physically sick, but instead of showing her repulsion, Marlene responded by kissing Jake passionately. Shutting her eyes, Marlene pretended she was kissing her screen idol, Mel Gibson – that’s what she always did when she got intimate with a man she didn’t fancy.
‘You are so beautiful, Marlene,’ Jake said, as their kiss came to an end.
Marlene grinned. Jake was in her clutches already and this was one snake that she was not going to let slither out of her grasp.
Back in Dagenham, Angela was trying to find out more about Wayne’s life. ‘So, what’s it like going to a football match? When are West Ham playing at home next?’ she asked, genuinely interested. Angie knew nothing about football whatsoever, but decided because Wayne was so passionate about it, if they were going to be together forever, perhaps she should start learning.
‘It’s wicked, babe. Me, Potter and Cooksie are in a firm called the ICF. We’ve had many a scrap, especially when we go to away games. Well hard, we are,’ Wayne bragged.
‘Do you fight people?’
‘Yeah, we fight the supporters of other teams. The firm’s run by some older geezers and they’re all casuals, like us. Well cool they are, and proper organized. We wanted to hang about with ’em ages ago, but I think they thought we were too young. They’ve accepted us now, though – they call us the young ICF.’
Angela was perplexed. She’d always thought football was about kicking a ball around a pitch, not brawling. ‘Can I come to the next game with you, Jacko?’
Wayne burst out laughing. In his opinion, birds and football were as unsuited as a dog shagging a cat. About to answer Angela’s awkward request as diplomatically as he could, Wayne heard someone call his name.
Spotting his two best pals jogging towards him, Wayne quickly stood up and brushed any dirt off his turquoise Lacoste tracksuit.
‘What you doin’ hanging about here, you wanker?’ Cooksie asked him, laughing.
Leaning against the wall, Wayne grabbed hold of his groin area, nodded towards Angela and chuckled. ‘She’s worn me out, lads. Had a bit of a marathon sesh earlier, and I’m shattered. Where yous two been?’
Potter showed Wayne the inside of his carrier bag. ‘Dalston, got meself a new pair of Kickers in red.’
‘Sweet,’ Wayne replied, studying the boots.
‘Do you wanna come round Danno’s with us? He’s got a free house for the weekend and is having a bit of a piss-up,’ Cooksie suggested.
‘Yeah, why not. You coming Ange? We’re going round Danno’s.’
Thrilled that Wayne had invited her, Angela stood up. ‘Who’s Danno?’ she asked, casually.
‘Danno’s in our year at school. You won’t know him, he goes Priory.’
Relieved that Danno didn’t go to Parsloes Manor, the school that she had pretended to go to, Angela grinned. She knew none of the lads in the fifth year at Priory, so knew her secret would be safe. ‘Come on then. What we waiting for?’ she said.
Barry Franklin waited until they got off at Dagenham Heathway before confronting Stephanie. ‘Look, babe, you’ve hardly said a word to me all the way home and I know something’s up. You might as well just tell me what’s wrong. Don’t you wanna go out with me any more or something? ’Cause if you don’t I’d rather you just be honest with me.’
Barry’s words made Stephanie feel all emotional inside and she knew she had no choice other than to come clean. Surely it was better to tell Barry the truth herself than let him hear it from Wayne Jackman’s sarcastic mouth.
‘I do wanna be with you, Bal, it’s not that. You’re gonna finish with me when I tell you what it is, I know you will.’
Aware that his girlfriend was seconds away from bursting into tears, Barry held her in his arms. ‘No matter what it is, I will never finish with you, babe. I like you far too much to do that, so just tell me what’s bothering you.’
‘It’s Wayne Jackman. I asked him out just before I met you and I made myself look a right div an’ all. I didn’t really like him, not like I like you, I swear I didn’t,’ Stephanie said, fearfully.
Barry Franklin burst out laughing. ‘I know you asked Jacko out, he told me what happened. Is that it? I ain’t bothered about that. I’m just glad he knocked you back, ’cause you wouldn’t be with me otherwise, would you?’
Stephanie was astonished by Barry’s calmness over her confession. ‘What, so you don’t mind? I thought you would dump me when you found out. That’s why I’ve been so quiet since you said you were friends with him.’
Tilting Stephanie’s chin towards him, Barry wiped the tears from her eyes with the cuff of his jumper. ‘Jacko’s OK, you don’t know him like I do. It’s all about us now, girl. Sod anyone else and the past. It’s only me and you that matters.’
As Barry leant towards her and kissed her properly for the very first time, Stephanie Crouch truly felt that she was the luckiest girl in the world.
Angela Crouch was thoroughly enjoying herself around at Danno’s house. Apart from the host and Wayne and his pals, there were eight other boys there, and Angela was extremely aware that at least six of them couldn’t take their eyes off her beauty. There were only two other girls at the house and Angela was relieved that they were both overweight and also quite ugly. From a very early age, Angela had always craved to be the centre of attention, and tonight she most certainly was.
‘Sit down. You’re making a show of yourself,’ Wayne said, grabbing Angela’s arm to stop her from dancing seductively to Culture Club’s ‘Karma Chameleon’.
‘No I’m not! I’m just enjoying meself and you’re only jealous because you know all your mates fancy me,’ Angela said, confidently. Seconds later, the self-satisfied smirk was wiped off Angela’s face as Tanya MacKenzie, a girl she had always disliked immensely, and who was in the same year as her at school, walked into the room.
‘Let’s go home. I need some fresh air,’ Angela said, grabbing Wayne by the arm.
‘But it’s only nine o’clock. I thought you didn’t have to be in till ten?’
‘I feel a bit sick,’ Angela lied, turning her back on Tanya. She was desperate for Tanya not to spot her.
‘What you doing ’ere, Crouchy? This house belongs to my family and you ain’t welcome.’
‘Come on, Jacko, let’s go,’ Angela pleaded, her voice now frantic.
Tanya MacKenzie was Danno’s cousin, and ever since the day she had first set foot inside Dagenham Priory, she had hated Angela Crouch with a passion. Tanya and Angie were both blessed with pretty faces, and Tanya knew if it wasn’t for Angela being around, she would be the best-looking girl in her year by a mile. Not only that, but Angela was also a bitch and a liar, which had made Tanya despise her all the more.
‘What’s going on? And who’s Crouchy?’ Wayne asked, in bewilderment. Angie had told him her surname was Marshall, so why the bloody hell was Tanya calling his girlfriend Crouchy?
Realizing that Wayne and Angela were an item, Tanya burst out laughing. Ever since Angela had grassed her up to a teacher for writing graffiti on the toilet walls last term, Tanya had yearned for her revenge, and now she was about to get it. She turned to Wayne. ‘I’m calling her Crouchy ’cause that’s her surname. You ain’t going out with her, are you, Jacko? She’s a slag and a liar and I bet she ain’t told you how old she really is, has she?’
As Spandau Ballet’s ‘True’ blasted out of the speakers, humiliation drove Angela to tears. ‘Please, Jacko, let’s go now,’ she begged.
Aware that all his mates were watching the embarrassing confrontation, Wayne was fuming. He grabbed Angela’s shoulders and slammed her against the lounge wall. ‘What’s your real name and how fucking old are you, Ange? Don’t lie to me, ’cause I will kill you if you do.’
When somebody turned the volume on the stereo down, Tanya nudged her mate and walked over to where Wayne and Angela were arguing. ‘Her name’s Angela Crouch and she’s in the second year at Priory. I should know, she’s made my life hell.’
‘Is this fucking true?’ Wayne screamed.
‘I’m so sorry. I was gonna tell you, but I thought you’d pack me up,’ Angela sobbed as she ran from the room.
Desperate to save face in front of all of his mates, Wayne chased after Angela, grabbed her roughly by the arm, and slapped her around the face. ‘You lying fucking bitch. Now, get away from me. I don’t ever wanna see your face again, got it?’ he yelled.
Crushed beyond belief, Angela let out a wounded howl, and ran as fast as she could down the street.
Unaware that another drama was just about to kick off, Pamela Crouch was busy dealing with the one that already had. The police had kindly dropped her sister home half an hour ago and, instead of being apologetic over her unruly behaviour, Linda seemed to think it was all one big joke.
‘It ain’t fucking funny, Linda. Mum must be turning in her grave if she’s looking down and knows you got yourself arrested. It’s ever since you’ve been knocking about with them factory girls, you’ve been acting like a bloody hooligan. I think you should look for another job. You need to find one where you mix with normal women. Bad influence, that mob from the Butterkist are.’
‘No they ain’t! For the first time ever, sis, I’ve actually met people who accept me for being me – and let me tell you, I’m having the time of me bleedin’ life. My friends are blinding and I love each and every one of ’em dearly, so don’t you dare try and spoil things for me. I will never forgive you if you do, and I mean that. And if you keep nagging on at me like Muvver did, I’ll go up that council first thing Monday morning and get meself a place of me own,’ Linda replied.
Huffing and puffing, Pam stood up. ‘Who wants a brew?’ she asked.
‘Yes please,’ Linda said, winking at Cath as Pam left the room. Linda might have a height impediment, but her brain was as good as Margaret Thatcher’s and she certainly knew which buttons to press when it came to her elder sister. Threatening to move out worked like a dream every time, and Linda just wished she had learnt the art of being so cunning when she’d lived with her domineering bloody mother.
When the front door opened and slammed, Pam looked up from her tea-making duties. ‘Angie, get your arse down here,’ she shouted, as her sobbing daughter bolted straight up the stairs.
‘What’s wrong with Madam?’ Linda asked, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge door to hunt for some chocolate.
‘Christ knows! Go up and see if she’s all right for me,’ Pam replied. She’d had enough stress for one day to last her a lifetime.
‘No chance,’ Linda said, bluntly. She adored her eldest niece Stephanie, but in Lin’s eyes, Angela was a petulant little mare, and there was no way she was getting involved in the child’s latest fiasco.
About to plead with Linda, Pam was saved from doing so by Stephanie’s arrival home. ‘What’s in that bleedin’ carrier bag?’ Pam asked suspiciously as she clocked her daughter trying to hide the bag behind her back.
‘Just a sweatshirt,’ Stephanie said, as casually as she could. She could hardly tell her mum that the old slapper’s son who lived across the road had bought it for her. Her mother would have a fit.
‘You ain’t nicked it, have you? Where did you get it from?’ Pam asked, bluntly.
‘Romford Market and I bought it out me pocket money, if you must know,’ Steph replied, stroppily.
Swallowing her daughter’s lie, Pam raised her eyes towards the ceiling. ‘Go upstairs and see what’s wrong with your sister. She’s just come in, breaking her heart, she was. You know what she’s like, she won’t tell me sod all – but I ain’t silly, I bet it’s to do with a boy.’
Relieved that her lie had been believed, Stephanie shot straight up the stairs. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’ Angela had the covers over her head, but Steph could still hear her sobbing like a baby.
‘Go away. Leave me alone,’ Angela screamed.
The girls slept in single beds either end of the room, and Stephanie knew if she didn’t sort this particular drama out now and Jacko had dumped Angie, her sister would make her life hell for weeks to come. Sitting down on the edge of Angela’s bed, Steph comfortingly put an arm across her body. ‘I knew he’d find out your age sooner or later, sis. It was only a matter of time,’ she said in an understanding voice. ‘I told you to tell him the truth before someone else did, didn’t I?’
Angela was not only heartbroken, but also bloody seething. Not only had she lost the love of her life and been humiliated by Tanya MacKenzie, but she now had her know-it-all, patronizing sister to contend with as well. Unable to admit that she should have listened to Stephanie’s advice about admitting her age, Angela leapt out of the bed like a banshee. ‘Jacko never found out my age. It ain’t what you think it is, OK?’ she shrieked.
Stephanie was used to her younger sister being an actress – she’d grown up with her tantrums – but as Angie’s body began to shake uncontrollably and her sobs echoed against the walls of the bedroom, Stephanie started to become seriously concerned. ‘Whatever’s happened? You can tell me, Ange,’ she said, holding her distraught sister in her arms.
Rocking to and fro, Angela clung to Stephanie’s chest. She was good at lying and needed some sympathy. Also, if Steph thought she was going to get her hands on Wayne now, she had another think coming.
‘Has Jacko done something bad to you, Ange?’ Stephanie asked. She had tears in her own eyes now, such was her sister’s distress.
Angela was racking her brain for the perfect answer and, remembering the fantastic sex she and Wayne had experienced earlier, she could only think of one thing to say. ‘If I tell you, you must promise never to tell Mum or anyone else.’
‘I swear I won’t tell a soul,’ Stephanie promised.
‘Jacko forced me to have sex with him. He raped me, Steph.’
CHAPTER SIX
After spending all day Sunday consoling and caring for her sexually abused younger sister, Stephanie headed off to school on the Monday morning like a bull in a china shop. She’d left an hour earlier for two reasons: one because she needed Tammy’s advice, and secondly because she’d wanted to avoid Barry. Seeing Tammy standing outside the Church Elm fish bar, Stephanie ran towards her.
‘Why the early meet? You ain’t done it with him, have you? And why didn’t you come round yesterday? We were meant to be going down Dagenham Sunday Market,’ Tammy asked, slightly annoyed that her pal had let her down.
‘Let’s go to a café. We can’t talk here,’ Steph said, grabbing her pal’s arm.
Five minutes later, the girls were sitting in the café on Heathway Hill nursing a mug of tea each.
‘What’s a matter, Steph? You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Is it Barry? Did he do something to you when you went out with him the other day? If he’s upset you, I’ll have his guts for garters, mate.’
‘It’s not Barry. I had a fab day out with him, the best ever.’
‘Well, what’s wrong then?’
‘It’s Angie.’
Tammy had little time at all for her best friend’s younger sister. In her eyes, Angela was an extremely nasty piece of work, but Tammy had learned to be diplomatic about her for Steph’s sake. ‘What’s she done now?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows.
Leaning forwards so that the workmen sitting on the next table couldn’t hear what she had to say, Stephanie explained everything that Angela had told her.
Tammy listened intently, but couldn’t help but be sceptical. ‘You sure she’s telling the truth, mate? I don’t wanna slag your sister off, but you know what a liar she can be. What about when she told you that poor old man who lived across the road had touched her and it turned out she’d made it up ’cause he’d caught her nicking the milk off his doorstep and she knew he’d tell your muvver.’
Remembering the incident with the old man who used to live across the road, Stephanie shrugged. ‘Yeah, but when my mum went to confront the old man, Angela admitted she was lying, didn’t she? She was only about eight when she said that and I’m sure she ain’t lying about Jacko. She was in a proper state yesterday, Tam. That’s why I couldn’t come to the market with you. She ain’t even gone to school today. I begged her to let me tell Mum or ring the police, but that just made her even more hysterical. I’ve gotta say something to Jacko. He ain’t getting away with this. At least if I let him know that I know, he won’t go near Angie ever again. I’ll threaten the bastard and tell him if he goes within fifty yards of her, I’ll tell the police everything.’
‘Jacko might be a flash wanker, Steph, but he don’t look like no rapist to me. How do you know that Ange and him didn’t just get drunk and have sex? I mean, she lied about her age to him, didn’t she?’
Annoyed that her best friend was questioning Angela’s morals instead of backing her, Stephanie gave her what for. ‘If this happened to your sister, I wouldn’t call her a liar. Wayne Jackman is gonna get a piece of my mind at lunchtime and if you don’t wanna back me up, then I’ll do it on my own.’
Adoring Stephanie more than anyone else in the world, Tammy squeezed her hand. ‘I can’t stand Jacko anyway, he’s such an immature prick, and of course I’ll back you up. What are mates for, eh?’
Barry Franklin couldn’t concentrate on anything his history teacher, Mr Holst, was banging on about. Steph had been meant to meet him yesterday evening, yet she hadn’t turned up and Barry was desperate to know why. Glancing across the classroom at her, Barry chucked his exercise book down on the desk in frustration. He thought their date on Saturday had gone really well, and he was sick of racking his brains trying to work out what he’d done so bloody wrong. He’d left for school early this morning and had hung about on the corner of the street for half an hour, smoking fag after fag and waiting for Steph. He knew she must have avoided him somehow. But he needed to know why.
Relieved when the bell rang to signal lunchtime, Barry flew out of his seat and grabbed Steph by the arm as she made for the corridor. ‘What have I done wrong? Why you avoiding me?’ he asked, accusingly.
‘It’s not you. Look, I can’t talk now because there’s something I’ve gotta do. Wait for me after school and I’ll tell you about it then,’ Steph replied.
Noticing the tears in Stephanie’s eyes, Barry ignored the sniggers from some of his classmates and pulled his girlfriend into his arms. ‘If someone’s hurt you, I’ll fucking kill ’em. Tell me what’s wrong and let me deal with it.’
‘No one’s hurt her, Bal. She just needs to sort something out, that’s all. She ain’t doing it alone, I’m going with her,’ Tammy said in an abrupt tone. Barry had only known Steph for what her mother would call ‘five bloody minutes’ and if he thought he was taking her best mate away from her by giving it Mr Macho, he had another think coming.
Not wanting to overstep his newfound boyfriend role, Barry held his hands up in a posture of surrender. ‘OK. I’m off to grab some lunch and I’ll catch up with you after school.’
Marlene Franklin was in her element as she showed her friend Marge the expensive clothes that Jake the Snake had bought her the previous day.
‘Fucking hell, Mar! I love that fur jacket, how much was that?’
‘Five an’ a half – and see them shoes? They were over a oner. He took me to Harrods. Fuckin’ Harrods, can you believe it? I think I’m in love.’
Marge burst out laughing. She knew that Marlene always put a pound note above good looks, but Jake the Snake was so vulgar, he actually abused the privilege of being ugly.
‘Have you shagged him yet? Aw, Mar, I don’t mean to laugh, but he is fucking ugly, ain’t he? He reminds me of a bald version of that actor who played Fagin in Oliver Twist, what was his name?’
Ignoring Marge’s nasty jibe, Marlene debated whether to tell her that she had sucked Jake the Snake’s rather flaccid little penis the previous night, but she quickly decided against it. What was the point? Marge would only take the piss and Marlene knew only too well how ugly some of the men who Marge had slept with were.
‘You do make me laugh, mate. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Anyway, enough about me. What happened with you and Donkey Dave?’
‘Dirty bastard, he was. A right fucking pervert. Shagged me up the jacksie all night and then shoved a bottle up me fanny in the morning.’
Marlene laughed. Marge was pure filth in the bedroom department, so for her to call Donkey Dave a pervert was more than enough proof that he must have been bad. ‘So, you seeing him again?’ Marlene asked.
‘No I ain’t! Walking like John fucking Wayne I am. I’m sure he’s done some internal damage to me. Sod that for a game of soldiers. What about you? I take it you’re seeing Fagin again?’
Trying on her fur coat once more, Marlene turned to face her friend. She truly believed she was Marilyn reincarnated, which was why she was forever using her famous film quotes. This time she used the Sugar Cane one out of Some Like It Hot. ‘“Real diamonds. They must be worth their weight in gold”,’ she drawled, before reverting back to her cockney accent. ‘Yes, Marge, of course I’m gonna bleedin’ see Fagin again. Not only that, if he proposes, I shall marry the old bastard.’
Wayne Jackman was a creature of habit and Stephanie knew that he and his pals always spent their dinner times at the same chip shop where they would play on the fruit machine. ‘He’s not ’ere yet. Let’s wait by the alley, so we can jump out and surprise him before he gets to the chippy. I don’t want the whole world to hear what I’ve got to say. Ange will kill me if she finds out I’ve said something to Jacko. She made me promise on Mum’s life that I wouldn’t, but I crossed my fingers behind me back,’ Stephanie said.
‘He’s coming now, Steph. Potter and Cooksie are with him. You ain’t gonna say nothing in front of his mates, are you? Shall I call him over?’ Tammy asked, feeling slightly edgy.
Staring at Wayne Jackman sauntering down the road like he owned it, Stephanie felt her blood start to boil. He was laughing and joking with his mates like he didn’t have a care in the world, while her poor sister was sitting at home, distraught and scarred for life. Unable to control her temper for one moment longer, Stephanie ran towards him. ‘Oi Jacko! I wanna word with you, you fucking pervert.’
Potter and Cooksie immediately started to laugh.
‘You ain’t still got the hump ’cause I knocked you back, have ya?’ Wayne asked, cockily. He still hadn’t put two and two together with the Crouch surname and had no idea that Stephanie and Angela were actually related.
‘You fucking wanker! I know what you did to my sister, you scumbag. Do your friends know you’re a rapist? Well, do they?’ Steph shouted.
As realization crept in that Stephanie was Angela’s sister, Wayne’s face whitened and his usual brash persona wilted like a flower that had just been trampled on by hobnail boots. ‘I never raped your sister. She was all over me like a rash and I would never have gone near her in the first place if she hadn’t lied about her age.’
‘You raped her! She told me you raped her,’ Stephanie screamed.
Aware that a crowd had started to gather, Wayne grabbed Stephanie by the arm and dragged her towards the nearby alleyway. ‘You stay there. This is between me and her,’ he told Cooksie and Potter.
‘You ain’t taking my mate nowhere where I ain’t going,’ Tammy said, supportively.
‘Well, best you listen to what I’ve gotta say an’ all then, Tampax,’ Wayne hissed. He pushed Stephanie against the stone wall, and with his eyes glinting dangerously, gave her a piece of his mind. ‘If you weren’t dating my old mate, Bazza, I swear I would knock you out for embarrassing me like you just have. How dare you call me a rapist? Your sister told me she was fifteen and she was well up for it, if you know what I mean?’
‘So why did she dump you then? Why did she come home in such a state on Saturday if you never did anything wrong?’ Steph screamed, accusingly.
‘Because I took her round Danny MacKenzie’s house and his cousin Tanya was there. She’s in the same year as your fucking sister and she told me who she was and her real age. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Danno or Tanya what happened – or Potter and Cooksie, they were there an’ all.’
Stephanie felt her face start to redden. ‘I’m only going by what my sister told me and she swears you raped her.’
‘Leave it now, mate. Let’s go, eh?’ Tammy urged her pal. She was positive Wayne was telling the truth.
Determined to have the last say, Stephanie pointed her forefinger into Wayne’s smarmy face. ‘If you ever go near my sister again, I’m gonna call the police and tell ’em what you did to her. Understand?’
Wayne grabbed Stephanie’s finger and bent it backwards. ‘You better shut your mouth, Crouchy, before I shut it for you. I never did anything to your lying slag of a sister that she didn’t want me to do, got it? And if you ever call me, or tell anyone I’m a rapist ever again, I will fucking kill you and that sister of yours. I’m a member of the ICF so, if I was you, I’d watch your back.’
Aware that if she didn’t drag Stephanie away, things were about to get very ugly indeed, Tammy grabbed her friend by the arm and virtually dragged her down the road.
‘You think Angie’s lying, don’t you?’ Steph asked, near to tears.
‘Steph, you told me this morning in the café that Angie had told you that Jacko still thought she was fifteen. He obviously doesn’t, so someone’s telling porkies, mate.’
Stephanie turned to her pal. ‘I’m gonna check out Jacko’s story, and if I find out that he’s telling me the truth and Angie’s lying, I swear I’m gonna rip her head off.’
Pamela Crouch scuttled home from work as fast as her heavy-sized frame would carry her. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on her job in the bakery today, as she knew that there was something wrong with her daughters. All day yesterday, Stephanie and Angela had been holed up in their bedroom. They’d barely touched the nice roast-lamb dinner she’d cooked, and when she tried to enquire what was wrong, both girls had virtually bitten her head off. Pam wasn’t stupid. She knew this latest drama was more to do with Angie than Steph, but she also knew it must be serious, as Angela had flatly refused to go to school this morning by feigning a migraine.
‘Pam! Pam!’
Hearing her name called, Pam turned around and waved at her friend Cathy.
‘Jesus wept! Been shouting your name for the past five minutes. You gone mutt and jeff or summink?’
‘Sorry, mate. In a world of me own. Murders, I had with them girls of mine yesterday, and what with Lin being arrested an’ all, I dunno if I’m coming or bleedin’ going.’
‘Have you seen Marlene’s new man yet?’ Cathy asked, excitedly.
‘No. What’s this one like?’ Pam asked, nearly dropping her bag of leftovers from the bakery in shock. Pam always brought home any cakes, pasties, pies or sandwiches that were due to the thrown away. It helped her make ends meet.
‘He turned up yesterday morning in a big flash silver Jaguar. Old boy, he was, but he looked like he had a few bob. The old slapper was done up to the nines when she ran outside to greet him. Then they snogged in full view of the whole street. She’s got no decorum whatsoever that woman. I mean, it weren’t five minutes ago she had that black man round there.’
‘Well I never!’ Pam exclaimed. ‘I feel sorry for that son of hers, you know. What an environment to bring a young boy up in.’
‘Lairy Mary was telling me about that son of hers. She reckons he’s a nice kid, but is a proper Arthur Daley in the making, just like his father was. A right little wide boy he is, by all accounts. Works as a look-out for a fly pitcher down Roman Road Market and is as cunning as a fox, Mary said.’
By the time she reached the front gate, Pam felt a whole lot better. Her girls might have their faults, but at least they were normal kids. Children like Marlene’s stood no chance in life.
With the help of Barry, Stephanie managed to check Jacko’s story out straight after school, and within seconds of confronting Danno and then his younger cousin, Tanya, Steph realized that not only had she made a right mug of herself, but that Jacko’s version of events was actually true.
‘No disrespect, but your sister is an out-and-out liar and a bitch. Everyone in our year hates her and she tells fibs about just everyone and everything,’ Tanya informed Steph, bluntly.
Walking home with Barry by her side, Stephanie felt incredibly stupid. ‘I don’t like Jacko, Bal, and I probably never will, but I feel terrible about calling him a rapist. Will you apologize to him for me? I can’t face saying sorry to him meself.’
Barry put a supportive arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. He hadn’t yet set eyes on Steph’s younger sister, Angela, but he already sensed that the girl was a wrong ’un. He’d met one or two similar girls when he’d lived in Bethnal Green, and he could sniff out a vindictive personality a mile off. To accuse somebody of rape when it was anything but, was appalling in Barry’s eyes, and he knew if and when he met Angela, he would hate her on sight. ‘I actually think you should apologize to Jacko yourself. Trust me, Steph, when you get to know him, he’s proper and, seeing as he saved my life, I’d really like yous two to get along. I know he can be a mouthy prick at times, but he weren’t like that when we lived in Bethnal Green. I think he larges it in front of them pricks, Potter and Cooksie. Give Jacko a chance, please – for my sake.’
‘But I feel such a div. Not only have I accused him of being a nonce, but it weren’t long ago that I asked him out meself. He must think I’m a right loony.’
Barry grinned. Jacko had told him what had happened between him and Steph at lunchtime and Barry was pleased that he’d managed to sort things out for his girlfriend so quickly. ‘You and Jacko will get along just fine, trust me on that one, and the only reason you asked him out was because you hadn’t then met me. Let’s just say he was the next best thing, eh?’
Stephanie smiled. ‘I’d better walk the rest of the way on me own now. We don’t wanna get caught out, do we? Not only that, I’ve gotta get back and deal with Angie. I ain’t letting her get away with this one, Bal. I’ve always been soft with her, but this time, she’s gone one step too far.’
‘Are you gonna tell your mum what she said about Jacko?’ Barry asked.
‘Nah. If I do that she’ll probably grass me up about seeing you.’
Desperate to share a kiss with his girlfriend, Barry leant towards her.
‘Don’t! I’m frightened someone might see us,’ Stephanie said, glancing up and down the road.
Barry sighed. He knew Steph was only concerned about being seen with him because of who his mother was, and already the situation had started to piss him off a bit. ‘Look, I know my mum’s a bit of a girl, but she’s no Myra Hindley. Why don’t you just tell your mum you’re seeing me? It will make things so much easier in the long run,’ he suggested.
‘Look, I must go now, but I’ll meet you in the morning on the corner of Ford Road and we’ll walk to school together. I do really like you, Bal, so please don’t think that I don’t,’ Steph said, avoiding his awkward question.
Unable to stop himself, Barry grabbed his girlfriend around the waist, pulled her towards him and kissed her passionately. Pulling away, he winked at Steph. ‘And I like you, girl. Probably more than you’ll ever know.’
Pamela Crouch was absolutely seething. For months her Angela had been harping on about dying her hair blond, and today, when she was supposed to be ill, Pam had arrived home to find that her daughter had disobeyed her orders and now had a mop of frizzy hair that resembled a low-class prostitute.
‘Where did you get the money from, Angela? I know you had no pocket money left and I had two pound notes in my purse this morning and one has miraculously disappeared. If it ain’t bad enough you’ve gone behind my back and done something I forbade you to do, you’ve been stealing off me as well, ain’t ya?’
About to deny the accusation, Angela welcomed the distraction of her sister arriving home. ‘Mum reckons I’ve stolen money out of her purse, Steph. Tell her I ain’t. I borrowed a pound off you, didn’t I?’ she lied.
After the day she’d had at school, Stephanie couldn’t help but lose it with her little sister. ‘You’re a liar, Ange. I never lent you a penny, and not only that, you lied about Jacko an’ all, didn’t you?’
‘Who’s Jacko?’ Pam asked, perplexed.
Angela stared at her sister with a look of pure hatred on her face. Steph had promised not to divulge her secret to anyone and she had obviously been making herself busy. ‘You bitch! I told you to keep your mouth shut,’ Angela screamed, as she flew at Stephanie.
‘Stop it! Stop it!’ Pam yelled, as a full-scale argument began.
‘She told me she’d been raped, Mum. She’s an evil, wicked liar,’ Stephanie shouted, as her sister tried to drag her around the room by her hair.
Pam knew that her girls had always bickered, but she had never seen them as bad as this before. ‘I said, stop it,’ she yelled, barging her way into the ruckus, while trying to pull them apart.
Angela took a deep breath when her mum made her sit on one side of the lounge and Stephanie on the other. If her humiliation over the Jacko episode hadn’t been bad enough, her sister had made it a whole lot worse by opening her big mouth at school and snitching on her to her mum.
‘Now, what’s going on? And what’s all this about a rape? Don’t lie to me, the pair of you, because if you do, I’ll have your guts for garters,’ Pam shouted.
Angela knew that there was only one way to worm herself out of this difficult situation and that was to turn the tables.
‘Can I just say something first please, Mum?’ she asked, in a childlike, innocent-sounding voice.
‘Go on, but don’t you dare lie to me, Angela,’ Pam replied, in a threatening tone.
Smirking at her sister, Angela turned back to her mother. ‘You know that old slapper over the road, Mum. Stephanie’s going out with her son.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Angela’s revelation left Pam temporarily dumbstruck, but suddenly she found her voice again. ‘This had better not be true, young lady. If I find out you’ve been within one hundred yards of that old slapper’s son, you’re grounded for life.’
‘It ain’t me you wanna be worrying about, it’s her. At least I ain’t been having sex with boys and then accusing ’em of raping me,’ Stephanie screamed. She was furious that her sister had betrayed her trust.
‘You lying bitch! I ain’t never had sex with anyone, Mum, I swear I ain’t,’ Angela yelled.
Pam felt physically sick. Angela had only just turned thirteen years old, and the idea of some boy taking advantage of her innocence was almost unthinkable. ‘Who is this boy?’ Pam asked Angela.
‘He’s no one. I just liked some boy, that was all, and pretended to Steph that I was going out with him. He’s fifteen, Mum. As if he’s gonna go out with some silly kid like me. I only told Steph ’cause I wanted to see if I could trust her not to tell you. It was a test and she’s failed it.’
‘You are such a wicked liar. I can prove it, Mum. Wayne Jackman thought Angie was fifteen ’cause that’s what she told him and she pretended that she went to Parsloes Manor. She also told him that Dad was still alive and he beats her up.’
When Angela leapt off her chair and flew at her sister again, Pam started to weep. ‘Stop it! Just bloody stop it,’ she screamed, grabbing Angela around the neck.
‘I hate you,’ Angela spat at Steph, as her mum bundled her into the hallway.
‘Get up them stairs now. And you’re going back to school in the morning, young lady. Taking no more of your crap, I ain’t.’
When Angela ran up the stairs sobbing, Pam marched back into the lounge. ‘So, have you been knocking about with that old slapper’s son? And don’t lie to me ’cause I’ll find out the truth,’ she told Steph.
Unlike her sister, Stephanie was not a good liar, so decided it would be in her best interest to come clean. ‘Barry’s lovely, Mum. He’s nothing like Marlene. He’s the complete opposite and he is so kind to me.’
Pam was furious. ‘You are not seeing that boy again, do you understand me? I’ll be the laughing stock of the street if anyone finds out you’ve been knocking about with Marlene’s son. Ain’t you got no respect for yourself? You silly little mare.’
‘Me have respect for myself! What about Angie? At least I ain’t done nothing with Barry. At least I don’t have sex with boys.’
‘Your sister has just turned bloody thirteen. She hasn’t had sex with anyone yet. She makes these stories up to try and impress you. As for your behaviour, disgusted I am, Steph, and you’re grounded until further notice. No more going out gallivanting until I know I can trust you again.’
‘But I ain’t done nothing wrong,’ Stephanie cried out.
‘That’ll be for me to decide. Now get upstairs and say sorry to your sister. I’ve got enough on me plate without yous two at one another’s throats. I’ve given the pair of you far too much leeway and now it’s all going to stop.’
When her mum walked into the kitchen, Stephanie let out a huge, racking sob.
Barry Franklin stood on the corner of Ford Road the following morning. Within seconds of spotting Steph walking towards him, he just knew that there was something wrong. ‘What’s up, babe?’ he asked, genuinely concerned.
‘Everything. I had a big row with Angie and then she grassed me up to Mum. She told her that me and you were going out together and me mum went mad. I’m grounded now. I ain’t allowed out no more,’ Steph explained, her eyes welling up with frustration.
‘Don’t worry. We’ll still find a way to see one another. What about if I have a word with your mum? I’m sure if she meets me, and realizes I’m no monster, she’ll change her tune.’
‘No! That will just make things worse. I wouldn’t mind but Angie ain’t even been grounded. If she hadn’t had sex with Jacko and then cried rape, none of this would have happened.’
Barry held his tearful girlfriend in his arms. ‘I’m gonna jib school today and shoot up to Bethnal Green again. My dad’s trial starts on Wednesday and he’s having a going-away bash in the Bishop Bonner. Jacko’s coming with me, I’m meeting him at the Heathway. He remembers me dad well and he ain’t seen him for yonks.’
Stephanie looked at her boyfriend in dismay. The thought of being near Barry all day at school was the only thing that had got her out of bed this morning, and now he wasn’t even going to be there. ‘Can I come with you?’
‘Course you can. But what about your mum? Say she finds out you ain’t gone to school. I don’t want to get you into even more trouble.’
Furious with her mother for siding with her sister rather than her, Stephanie shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Bollocks to my mum. I’m coming with you, Bal.’
Unaware that her sister had decided to play truant, Angela Crouch had to suffer the humiliation of facing Tanya MacKenzie again.
‘Look, girls. The silly slag’s dyed her hair blond so we don’t recognize her. How’s Jacko, Crouchie? Seen him lately, have ya?’ Tanya asked, gloating.
Instead of retaliating like she usually would, Angela held her head high and, with her nose in the air, walked past Tanya and her childish mates. She was still gutted that she and Wayne weren’t together, but after spending two days moping about and crying, Angie had now decided it was time to move on. Wayne Jackman might be as fit as a butcher’s dog, but he wasn’t the only fit boy in the world and, with her stunning beauty, Angie was confident that she could get virtually any boy she wanted.
‘Why weren’t you at school yesterday? Was it because of Jacko? I heard what happened. That slut Tanya’s told half the school,’ Chloe asked, catching up with her friend.
Angela smiled. Chloe was her only true mate, but even though they were close, Angela had no intention of admitting how devastated she’d been over the Jacko saga. ‘I had a sore throat yesterday, so me mum told me to stay home,’ she lied.
‘So, has Jacko packed you up now? That’s what Tanya’s been telling everyone.’
‘No one’s packed no one up. I just don’t wanna go out with Jacko no more. He’s a bit boring, to be honest,’ Angie replied, untruthfully.
Chloe linked arms with her pal. ‘You’ll never guess who’s asked me out?’
‘Who?’
‘Darren O’Brien, and Dal reckons that his older brother Jason fancies you.’
Angela Crouch could barely believe her luck. Jason O’Brien was in the year above her and Chloe. Not only was he extremely hot, but Angie knew for a fact that Tanya MacKenzie had recently got one of her mates to ask him out for her, and he’d said no.
‘I’ll go out with Jason. Arrange it for me,’ Angela said, her eyes shining with glee. Her mum had always said that when one door shuts, another one opens and Angie couldn’t help but think what a wise mother she had.
The atmosphere between Stephanie and Wayne was somewhat icy on the train journey, but by the time they’d had a few drinks in the pub, the frostiness had all but thawed.
‘I always knew yous two would get along just fine. Can’t have me best mate and me bird hating one another, can I now?’ Barry said, happily.
Stephanie looked at her boyfriend and raised her eyebrows. ‘So how come this pub is open at ten o’clock in the morning then? I didn’t think pubs opened till lunchtime,’ she remarked, changing the subject. She had been ultra-polite to Wayne for Barry’s sake, but she still wasn’t sure of him.
‘Pubs open whenever you want ’em to in this neck of the woods, especially if you’re loaded like my dad is. This boozer’s owned by a famous footballer, you know,’ Barry informed her.
‘Really! Where is he?’ Stephanie asked, expecting to see the man in question serving behind the bar.
Wayne and Barry both chuckled. ‘He don’t bloody work here. He plays for Tottenham and his family run the pub for him,’ Barry explained.
‘What’s his name then?’ Stephanie enquired. She didn’t know the first thing about footballers, but was hoping it was Glenn Hoddle because she knew who he was and thought he was lush.
‘His name’s Steve Archibald. Look, I’m just gonna have a quiet word with me dad outside. Yous two will be all right for a bit on your own, won’t ya?’ Barry asked.
Glancing at one another, Wayne and Stephanie both nodded. When Barry walked away, Stephanie felt her earlier awkwardness suddenly return and, not knowing what to say, stared at her glass of cider.
Wanting to put things right between them, it was Wayne who decided to say something first. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about what happened with your sister, Steph. I swear I wouldn’t have gone out with her if I’d known her proper age. She told me she was fifteen, I swear she did.’
‘That’s OK,’ Stephanie replied, meaning it. The way she felt at the moment, she hated her bloody sister, and any trouble Angie might have got herself into was all her own doing, nobody else’s.
‘I’m also sorry about the way I spoke to you an’ all, and your mate, Tammy,’ Wayne said, honestly.
‘Don’t worry about it. We all say silly things at times, me included. I’m sorry for calling you a rapist,’ Stephanie said, feeling incredibly stupid.
Sensing that Steph felt a bit embarrassed, Wayne grinned at her. ‘Don’t worry about that either. I’ve been called a lot worse things in me time. I’ll get us another drink, shall I? What do you want, another half of cider?’
Stephanie nodded and studied Wayne as he sauntered up to the bar. His bark seemed far worse than his bite all of a sudden.
‘There you go,’ Wayne said, handing Stephanie her drink. He sat back down opposite her and raised his pint glass. ‘To new beginnings, eh?’
Stephanie smiled. ‘To new beginnings.’
Angela Crouch spent the entire maths class doodling on the cover of her exercise book. Angela loves Wayne had now been scrubbed out completely and had been replaced by Angela + Jason with a love heart surrounding it. As the bell rang for lunchtime, Angie grabbed Chloe’s arm. ‘Where do Darren and Jason go at lunchtime?’ she asked her friend.
‘I don’t think they hang about together at school. Darren goes to the tucky, I think, then goes round Gel Parker’s house. He only lives in Ridgewell Close.’
‘Well, let’s go to the tucky. I want to ask him if Jason wants to go out with me myself.’
Chloe nodded then, arm in arm, the girls walked giggling towards the tuck shop.
‘There’s Jason. Look!’ Angela squealed, excitedly. Unlike Wayne Jackman, who was blond, lean and tall, Jason O’Brien was dark-haired, stocky and short. He was quite handsome, though, and in Angela’s eyes looked a bit like George Michael.
‘Go and talk to him then,’ Chloe urged her pal.
Jason was standing on the corner of School Road, smoking a cigarette. He had two pals with him, neither of whom Angela knew.
‘I can’t go over there while he’s with his mates. You go and speak to him, Chloe. Tell him to meet me outside the tucky in five minutes and I’ll talk to him there.’
Knowing how headstrong her friend could be, Chloe knew she would never hear the last of it if she didn’t comply with Angela’s orders.
‘Wait till I’m out of sight,’ Angela hissed, as Chloe went to march straight over to the boys.
As Angie half ran towards the tuck shop, she came face to face with Tanya MacKenzie and her smarmy-faced sidekicks.
‘Excuse me, please,’ Angela said politely, as they tried to block the pavement to stop her from getting past them.
‘If you’re looking for Jacko, don’t bother, ’cause he’s got a new girlfriend now. Really pretty, ain’t she, girls?’ Tanya hollered, urging the fellow members of her four-strong gang to join in with her torment.
‘Yeah, well pretty she is, and she’s sixteen,’ piped up Sharon Jones, Tanya’s best friend.
‘I ain’t bothered. I’ve got a new boyfriend myself,’ Angela replied, determined to wipe the self-satisfied smile off Tanya MacKenzie’s face.
‘You all right, mate?’ Chloe asked, appearing by Angela’s side.
‘No, she ain’t all right. She’s off her head if she thinks we believe she’s got a new boyfriend. We know what a liar she is,’ Tanya said, laughing.
‘Well, for your information, Angie ain’t lying. She’s going out with Jason O’Brien if you must know,’ Chloe replied.
Tanya MacKenzie stood open-mouthed. For the past eight months she had been besotted with Jason O’Brien’s dazzling good looks, and had recently plucked up the courage to ask him out. Jason had said no, and Tanya was sure he had only knocked her back because she was in the year lower than his, so how could he now be going out with Angela bloody Crouch?
‘You’re lying. You’re only saying that ’cause you’ve heard that I like Jason. You keep your hands off of him, Crouchie, do you hear me?’ Tanya spat.
Seconds later, as if by magic, Jason O’Brien walked around the corner and made a beeline for Angela.
‘Do you fancy coming to the chippy with me?’ he asked, grinning at her.
Clocking the look of jealousy on Tanya’s face, Angela smirked. ‘Yes, I’d love to, Jase.’
Stephanie Crouch had had such a brilliant day out with Barry and Wayne that she felt no guilt at all about bunking off school. Unlike her sister, Steph had never played hooky before, and she knew if she forged a letter in her mum’s handwriting, none of the teachers would bat an eyelid.
‘You enjoyed yourself today, babe?’ Barry asked, as they stood on the platform at Mile End station waiting for the District Line train.
‘Yeah, I’ve had a fab day. Why did Jacko shoot off?’
‘Jacko wanted to see some old pals while he was in the manor,’ Barry replied.
He waited for the commuters to get off, then led Stephanie over to two empty seats in the corner. ‘Jacko and me are both cut from the same cloth, babe – that’s why I have so much time for him. He’s a go-getter, just like I am. I mean, one day me and you might have kids and stuff and you want the best for ’em, don’t you? I dunno about you, but I don’t wanna be stuck in Dagenham for the rest of my life, or Bethnal Green for that matter. I plan to buy a big house in a posh area and then, one day, when I do have kids, I wanna give them all the stuff that I never had.’
Sort of understanding what Barry meant, Stephanie beamed from ear to ear. Barry must obviously really like her if he was mentioning them having kids one day. ‘That’s what I want too,’ she gushed.
Much to the disgust of the two old ladies sitting opposite, Barry kissed Steph passionately.
‘Bloody disgusting! No wonder our birth-control rate is going mad in this country,’ one of the old ladies said to the other.
Totally besotted with one another, Barry and Stephanie carried on kissing as though they were the only two people on the train.
‘Why don’t we jib school tomorrow an’ all? Me mum’s going away for a week with her new bloke. She’s going to Spain and is sodding off first thing in the morning. Me sister won’t be about tomorrow either, ’cause her bloke’s coming out of nick and they’re having a do for him round at his brother’s house. It might be the only day we can have the house all to ourselves. What do you say?’
Stephanie felt her stomach immediately tie itself up in knots. She liked Barry, really liked him, but she wouldn’t be fifteen until another few months, and certainly wasn’t ready to take their relationship to another level yet.
‘What’s up?’ Barry asked, noticing her reluctance to answer his question.
‘I dunno. I suppose I’m just worried if someone catches me coming in or out of your house and I’m worried about the other stuff. You know?’
‘What other stuff? All we’re gonna do is drink, smoke and play music. I’ll never make you do anything you don’t wanna do, babe.’
The two old women tutted and stared at one another. ‘To think my Albert died in the war for kids like these,’ the fatter lady whispered to the other.
‘Well, if it’s just for a beer, fags and some music, yeah why not?’ Steph agreed, grinning.
Barry squeezed Stephanie’s hand and stared intently into her eyes. ‘That’s my girl.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pamela Crouch was not in the best of moods. She had spent the whole of the previous night sitting up in Oldchurch Hospital’s A&E department, and was so tired, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go into work today.
‘I’m sorry, Pam,’ Linda said, as they finally left the hospital and got into a cab.
‘I should hope you bloody well are! Six hours I’ve just sat up that poxy place. I mean, whatever possessed you to walk home alone, Lin? You know if you’re pissed and you fall over, unless you’re with someone you can’t get back up again.’
‘The cab firm I use only had two drivers on and the man on the phone said I’d have to wait an hour. Anyway, I weren’t that pissed. I just tripped over on a bit of uneven pavement,’ Linda fibbed.
‘Don’t you start lying to me an’ all, Lin. I’ve got enough on me plate with them two deceitful daughters of mine forever telling me porkies, without you insulting my intelligence an’ all. I ain’t bloody stupid. Even the nurse told me you’d had a skinful. You’ll have a pickled liver if you carry on at the rate you’re going. I mean, you’re out on the piss every night. It ain’t normal.’
‘I’m sure I only go out a lot now because I was stuck indoors for all them years with Mum. I’m just trying to make up for lost time, I suppose,’ Linda explained.
Pam squeezed her younger sister’s hand. ‘Just promise me you’ll either get a cab home or get one of your mates to walk back with you in future. If that man hadn’t found you lying on the pavement, you could have bleedin’ stayed there all night and died of hypothermia.’
‘I won’t do it again, I promise. So, how are the girls? Are they talking again yet?’ she asked, sensibly changing the subject.
Pam shook her head sadly. Since their argument at the weekend, her daughters hadn’t spoken a single word to one another, and the looks of hatred flying between them were breaking Pam’s heart.
‘What about that Marlene’s boy? Has Steph seen him any more, do you think?’
Pam shrugged. ‘I can’t stop her seeing him at school, can I? All I can do is make her come straight home after school, not let her out at weekends, and hope it will just fizzle out. Cath knows, obviously, but apart from you I’ve told no one else, so make sure you don’t tell anyone either. I know your mouth’s as big as the Blackwall Tunnel when you’re pissed.’
‘Speak of the devil,’ Linda said, as the cab driver turned into their street.
Pam stared out of the window. Marlene was wearing skintight black shiny Lycra leggings and an in-your-face zebra-print top. The new boyfriend was putting a suitcase in the back of his posh Jaguar and Marlene was hugging her pregnant daughter by the gate. Pam paid the cab driver, then urged her sister to get out of the taxi.
‘Why don’t you go and have a word with her? Just tell her to keep her son away from our Steph. I’ll say something to her if you like?’
Pam shook her head. She had never been one for confrontation, especially in full view of the street. Seeing the boyfriend go back into the house and come out with another case, Pam pushed Linda up the path.
‘Let’s just hope that she’s bought a one-way ticket to wherever she’s going and is taking that bastard son of hers with her,’ Pam said.
Hearing laughter and chatting outside in the street, Angela Crouch lifted the curtain up and stared out of the window. She smirked as she laid eyes on Barry Franklin for the very first time. He had a dark diamond-patterned Pringle jumper on, pale grey tracksuit bottoms and white trainers.
‘He’s proper horny and well out of your league. You have no chance of holding onto him,’ Angie said to Steph, nastily.
Stephanie sighed. She hated falling out with her sister. ‘Let’s stop all this silliness and make up, shall we? Mum’s worried about us and it’s so not fair on her. Friends again?’
Ignoring Stephanie’s outstretched hand, Angela smirked. ‘Drop dead, you bitch.’
Relieved when his sister was picked up in a Datsun by her boyfriend’s brother, Barry did his best to tidy up a bit. Both his mum and his sister hated housework and he didn’t want Stephanie to think his family was frowsy. Satisfied that the lounge no longer resembled a bomb site, Barry made two trips upstairs to get his record player and records. He hadn’t wanted to suggest to Steph that they sat in his bedroom, in case she got the wrong end of the stick. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he picked up his front-door key. Stephanie had been so petrified about being seen entering his house that he had arranged to meet her in the alleyway down Ford Road. Feeling a tingly feeling inside his stomach, Barry picked up his carrier bag and, grinning like a Cheshire cat, sprinted down the road.
Angela met her friend Chloe at their usual spot and, arm in arm, they walked to school discussing their love lives.
‘So, do you really like Jason then? Or, do you just wanna go out with him to wind Tanya up?’ Chloe enquired.
‘Both! I love winding that bitch Tanya up, but I do really like Jase an’ all. I was looking at pictures of Wham in Smash Hits last night and he so does look like George Michael.’
‘Well, Darren wants us all to go on a double date on Saturday. He said we’ll go to Romford, have a mooch round the shops, then go to the pictures. You up for it?’
Angie nodded her head excitedly, then immediately scowled as she saw her sister’s best friend Tammy approaching. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, rudely.
‘I just wanna know where your sister is. She weren’t at school yesterday and I didn’t wanna ring her at home in case your mum answered and I got her in trouble. Is she bunking it? Or is she ill? She never met me this morning, so I take it she ain’t in today either? She did try and ring me late last night, but I was out with me mum.’
Angela grinned from ear to ear. This bit of information was priceless. ‘I think you’ll find she’s bunking off to spend time with the old slapper’s son – and thanks for telling me; I didn’t know.’
‘Don’t say nothing to your mum, will you? Steph would never grass you up if this was the other way round,’ Tammy said, alarmed that she’d just put her foot in it. She could tell by the vicious look of glee on Angela’s face that she would try and use the information to get her sister into trouble.
‘Don’t worry. Cross my heart and hope to die, I won’t say nothing to me mum,’ Angela said, smirking at Chloe and doing a cross sign across her chest with her right hand.
‘You should grass the bitch up,’ Chloe said as Tammy walked away.
‘Oh, I’m gonna. My mum had a right go at me over me hair again this morning. She said if I don’t dye it back to brown by next weekend then I ain’t allowed to go out. Wait till she hears about her blue-eyed girl bunking off school to spend time with Barry. My hair will be the last of her problems. She’ll go apeshit,’ Angela cackled.
Chloe laughed. ‘You gonna tell her as soon as you get in from school? Why don’t we go down the baker’s where your mum works at lunchtime and we can tell her together?’
‘She ain’t gone to work today. Anyway, I’ve got a better plan.’
‘What?’ Chloe asked, excitedly.
‘I’m gonna go and see Mr Jones at lunchtime. I’ll tell him that she’s bunking off, then he can tell me mum. That way, Steph won’t know that I’ve dobbed her in the shit.’
Chloe Martin stared at her best pal in awe. Angela Crouch was so clever and such a wicked schemer. ‘That’s brilliant, Ange! Totally brilliant.’
Oblivious to the fact that her sister was planning to grass her up, Steph was in a panic over something completely different.
‘All right, babe? Sorry I’m a bit late. I wanted to tidy up a bit before you came round. My muvver would never win an award for cleaning and my sister is such a messy cow,’ Barry explained.
‘We can’t go back to your house. We’re gonna have to go somewhere else,’ Stephanie said in an agitated voice.
‘Why? I told you all we’re gonna do is have a few bevvies, a smoke and play some records,’ Barry replied, dismayed by Stephanie’s sudden change of heart. Didn’t she trust him or something?
‘It’s not that. My mum ain’t gone to work today. Me aunt fell over pissed last night and my mum got a phone call at one o’clock this morning. There is no way I can chance coming back to yours while she’s at home. If she catches me, she’ll kill me and you both.’
‘I’ve bought me mum’s leopard-skin jacket with me and the black hat she wears for funerals. Surely she won’t recognize you in those? She’ll just think it’s me old girl.’
Stephanie shook her head. ‘My mum saw your mum going away this morning. She ain’t stupid, Bal, and I can’t take the chance of being caught out.’
Putting his thinking cap on, Barry came up with a plan. ‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll climb over the fence on the corner of the road and get to mine via the back gardens. The back ain’t locked, so we’ll go in that way.’
‘But say someone sees us in their back gardens?’
Barry laughed. ‘I’ll wear me muvver’s coat and you wear her hat. No one will recognize us. Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?’
Stephanie giggled and grabbed Barry by the hand. ‘Come on then, let’s do it.’
With Chloe by her side, Angela ran up the long alleyway that led from the lower to the upper school. She and Chloe had arranged to meet Jason and Darren outside the chip shop so they could eat lunch together and she hoped she could find Mr Jones quickly.
‘Slow down. I’ve got a stitch,’ Chloe complained, holding her side.
‘You’ll have to keep running else we’ll be late to meet the boys. I hope I don’t bump into bloody Jacko,’ Angela mumbled, out of breath herself.
Once inside the upper school entrance, Angela slowed down as she spotted Mrs Belson, Stephanie’s typing teacher. ‘Excuse me, where’s Mr Jones?’ she panted.
‘Probably in the staff room, my dear. Best not to disturb him while he’s eating his lunch,’ Mrs Belson replied sensibly.
Ignoring the teacher’s advice, Angela grabbed Chloe’s arm and headed towards the staff room. Mr Jones had a reputation amongst the older children for being rather unapproachable and a bit of an ogre, but Angela didn’t really know him, therefore wasn’t scared at all. As bold as brass, Angela knocked on the staff-room door.
‘Is Mr Jones there, please?’ she asked a male teacher she had never seen before.
‘He’s having his break at the moment. You’ll have to come back after lunch,’ the teacher told her.
‘I can’t come back after lunch and it’s very important,’ Angela replied, obstinately.
‘Wait there,’ the teacher said, shutting the door again.
Mr Jones was a rather tall man with a booming voice and a Basil Fawlty-esque walk and physique about him. ‘Yes. Make it quick,’ he snapped, as he closed the staff-room door behind him.
‘Hello sir. My name is Angela Crouch and my sister Stephanie is in form 4P. Because I’m so worried about her, I didn’t know who else to speak to apart from you, as I know you’re her head of year,’ Angela said, in a butter-wouldn’t-melt voice.
‘I know Stephanie. What is wrong with her?’
‘There’s a new boy in her class. His name is Barry Franklin and Steph has been bunking off school to spend time with him. I know how important these last two years at school are for her, and I would hate to see her mess her exams up because she has fallen for some stupid boy.’
Chloe wanted to burst out laughing, but instead joined in the fun. ‘Angela loves her sister dearly, Mr Jones, so she was wondering if you could speak to her mum. Ange don’t wanna be seen to be a snitch, do you, Ange?’
‘No, sir,’ Angela replied, desperately trying to keep a straight face.
‘OK, I will contact your mother this afternoon. And yes, you are right. Your sister is a bright girl, and she would be silly to throw all that away over some lad.’
‘Thank you, Mr Jones, and can you keep my name out of it, please?’
Nodding his head, Mr Jones excused himself and went back inside the staff room.
Roaring with uncontrollable laughter, Angela and Chloe ran down the corridor and out through the school gates.
After her earlier reluctance to set foot inside Barry’s house, Stephanie Crouch was now completely at ease and thoroughly enjoying herself.
‘You look so pretty today, babe,’ Barry stated, as he lit them both a cigarette and topped Steph’s drink up.
Stephanie grinned. She had worn the red off-the-shoulder sweatshirt that Barry had bought her at Roman Road Market. Teamed with tight faded jeans, big hoop earrings and the make-up she’d applied in the alleyway earlier, Steph was quite happy with the finished result.
‘Weren’t it funny climbing over them fences earlier? What about when you got your foot caught?’ she said, giggling.
Barry raised his eyebrows. He’d felt a right wilf when he had taken a tumble in front of his girlfriend, but could now see the funny side.
‘So, why don’t you like cider? Have you just never liked the taste?’ Steph asked, when Barry cracked open another can of lager.
‘I used to like it, but got pissed on it at a mate’s party when I first started drinking. Ill for days, I was, and the taste of it now just makes me feel sick,’ Barry admitted.
‘You big girl’s blouse,’ Steph said, chuckling.
‘What did you call me?’ Barry joked, clambering on top of Steph and pinning her arms to the dirt-stained carpet.
‘Get off me,’ Steph snapped, pretending to be angry.
Barry silenced her by snogging her passionately. This was the first time they had ever kissed where he had been lying on top of her, and he immediately felt himself becoming aroused.
Stephanie responded to the sweet taste of his gentle mouth but, as soon as she felt the hardness of his penis poking into her thigh, she froze. Stephanie had been quite a late starter with boys compared to her sister and some of the other girls in her year at school. Apart from Barry, she had only ever kissed two others properly, and she had never gone any further than that.
‘You OK?’ Barry asked.
‘Yeah. Can I put some more music on now? The record’s stopped,’ Steph replied, desperate to get away from the feel of her boyfriend’s rock-hard penis. Part of her wanted to see it and touch it, but she would be far too nervous to do so in case she did something wrong.
‘I’m just going a toilet,’ Barry said, as he bolted out of the room like a racehorse. His hard-on was sticking out like a flagpole in his loose-fitting tracksuit bottoms and he was embarrassed to let Stephanie see it in all its glory. He could tell how edgy and inexperienced she was, and even though he had been sexually active for the past year or so himself, he didn’t want to put his new girlfriend under any pressure, or make her feel uncomfortable in any way.
Stephanie sorted through Barry’s record collection. She had noticed the big bulge in his tracksuit bottoms when he had darted out of the room and was relieved to see it had disappeared on his return.
‘Can I put some Spandau Ballet on?’ she asked him.
Barry nodded and lit up another two cigarettes. ‘Tell me more about your family, Steph. I’ve heard you mention your aunt lives with you, but I haven’t seen her yet. Is she your mum’s sister?’
Stephanie sat on the sofa next to Barry and felt contented as she snuggled up against his chest. She told him all about Linda and made him laugh over her love for alcohol and some of the hilarious stunts she had pulled. ‘I think my mum worries about our Lin more than she does about me and me sister. No wonder she’s started to find grey hairs on her head.’
Barry chuckled. ‘She sounds a right case, your aunt. I’ll have to meet her one day – you know, when me and you are out in the open.’
‘I reckon my mum will still be wanting me to be single when I’m twenty-one. Does my head in, she does,’ Steph joked.
‘You shouldn’t be too hard on your mum. She only worries because she cares about you and she loves you. My mum has never worried about me or my sister. She just tends to think about herself.’
‘So, what’s this new boyfriend of your mum’s like, then? Whereabouts they gone on holiday?’
‘His name’s Jake and he’s short, old and loaded. He’s taken her to Spain, but I dunno whereabouts, she didn’t say.’
‘So, has she gone for a week? Or two?’ Steph asked.
‘Supposedly a week, but you never know with my muvver. About two years back she was seeing this geezer called Quiet John. They called him that ’cause he was a right loudmouth bastard. He took her to Spain an’ all. She left me and me sister indoors in our old house on our own. She only left us a score for food and then didn’t come back for a month. She fell in love with a waiter while she was out there, dumped Quiet John and stayed out there on her own for three weeks.’
‘Oh my God! What did you and your sister do? Did you go and live with your dad, or what?’ Steph asked, appalled. All of a sudden her own mother seemed like the best in the world.
‘Me dad was in nick at the time, but me and Chantelle got by. We both had to go out thieving just to make ends meet and a few of our old neighbours cooked us dinners and stuff. We couldn’t tell ’em where mum actually was, though. Me and Chantelle were worried that they’d tell the Old Bill and we’d get put in care. Mum weren’t that popular in Bethnal Green either, you see. The neighbours would have loved to have seen her banged up for abandoning us. They all liked me and me sister, though. I think they felt sorry for the pair of us.’
‘Poor you,’ Stephanie said, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s neck.
As Spandau Ballet’s ‘True’ started to play, Barry stood up, grabbed Steph’s hands and pulled her off the sofa. ‘Let’s have our first dance together, shall we?’ he said, laughing.
Stephanie grinned when Barry began singing the words to her. ‘You’ve got a great voice and I really love this record,’ she whispered in his ear.
Barry stared intently into his girlfriend’s eyes. ‘And I really love you, Steph. One day, me and you will get married and, when we are, we’ll dance to this as the first song at our wedding. Deal?’
Feeling a happiness inside her heart that she had never felt in her life before, Stephanie was stunned. Unable to answer Barry’s question because her voice seemed to have deserted her, she smiled and nodded at the same time. For the first time in her young life, Stephanie Crouch was completely and hopelessly in love.
Pamela Crouch’s right hand shook like she had a bad case of the DTs as she put the phone back on its receiver. ‘Oh, Cath. I’m at my wits’ end, I really am,’ she shouted, as her friend let herself in the house.
‘Whatever’s the matter? Is it Lin? Have they taken her back into the hospital again?’ Cath asked, alarmed.
‘No, Lin’s upstairs asleep. It’s my Stephanie. She’s been bunking off school to spend time with that old slapper’s son. I’ve just had her head of year on the phone. She ain’t been in today or yesterday. I’m gonna kill her, Cath. I will march her into that school of a morning and wait outside and walk home with her if I have to. Say she’s in his house now? They could be up to anything. I’m going over there. I’ll murder that little bastard if he’s laid one finger on my baby, I swear I will.’
Cathy had never seen her best friend in such a distressed state. ‘Calm down, and whatever you do, don’t do nothing rash. Good job I treated us to a bottle of Liebfraumilch from the offie. I thought you might fancy a glass because of the performance you had with Lin last night. You go and sit in the lounge and keep an eye on the house while I pour us a glass. We can have a drink and discuss things properly.’
Pam walked over to the window and stared at Marlene’s house. Marlene had recently replaced the sheets she’d had up at the windows with what looked like cheap heavy curtains, but they were always closed as she had no nets up. ‘What am I gonna do, Cath?’ she asked her friend.
Cathy handed her pal her drink, then sat down on the sofa and sipped her own. ‘Do you want my honest opinion?’
Pam nodded.
‘The more you try and stop Steph seeing that boy, the more she’s gonna want to see him. If you hadn’t forbade her to have contact with him, and grounded her, she wouldn’t be bunking off school, would she?’
‘So, what you trying to say? That it’s my fault?’ Pam asked, in a narky tone.
‘I’m only being truthful with you, Pam, so don’t get your knickers in a twist with me for trying to bleedin’ help you. I know you don’t want your Steph seeing that boy and I don’t blame you, but they’re only kids and it will soon fizzle out if you just let ’em get on with it.’
‘What’s going on? Can I have a glass of that wine?’ Linda asked, walking into the lounge still half asleep, with her dressing gown on.
‘No you bleedin’ well can’t! If you’re thirsty go and make yourself a brew. You’ve only just woken up, for Christ’s sake,’ Pam said.
‘I’ll make one in a minute. What’s up?’ Lin enquired, raising her eyebrows at Cathy.
Cathy explained all that had happened and her opinion on the matter.
Linda listened intently, then turned to Pam. ‘I think Cath’s spot on. By stopping Steph from seeing this boy, you’re just pushing her away. You need to just let it run its course. I bet you any money you like, if you allow them to see one another, it’ll all be over within six weeks.’
‘But how can I? I mean, didn’t you say Lairy Mary said he was a right cocky little bastard?’ Pam asked Cathy.
Cathy laughed. ‘How can Mary call anyone cocky when her own nickname’s Lairy? Means the same thing, don’t it? Actually, Mary popped in the café again yesterday, and ’cause I knew you were worried about Steph, I asked her some more questions. She was actually quite complimentary about the boy. Said he was a rough diamond, but had a heart of gold. She said he was streets above that mother and sister of his. She reckons the sister is a complete wrong ’un, just like her mother.’
‘What should I do then? I mean, I can’t let Steph carry on seeing him if I haven’t met him. I need to see and speak to the lad before I agree to anything.’
‘Invite him over for tea or something?’ Lin suggested.
‘I’ll make sure I’m here with you if you feel awkward. I mean, if the mother’s pissed off on holiday and left the boy alone, you’ve got the perfect chance to get to know him without involving that old slapper, ain’t you?’ Cathy said.
Pam sighed. ‘I suppose I’m just gonna have to take your advice, mate. I’ll let Steph see the boy and hope and pray it’s all over before it started. If it don’t work, we’ll have to think of a Plan B, ’cause as God’s my judge I would rather commit murder than watch my daughter end up with Marlene as a mother-in-law. My life I would.’
CHAPTER NINE
Angela Crouch skipped home from school as happy as a dog with two tails. Getting revenge on her bitch of a sister felt like the best feeling in the world and she couldn’t wait to experience first hand the repercussions of her little chat with Mr Jones. Another reason why Angela was feeling so ecstatic was because she had just had her first snog with Jason O’Brien. He was a much better kisser than Jacko had been, and she had felt Jason’s rock-hard penis rubbing against her thigh. Having now experienced sex in the raw, Angela decided she was rather partial to it and she couldn’t wait to have her wicked way with her new boyfriend. Wayne Jackman was history now, but he had been a learning curve in Angela’s life and she was determined to use the skills he had taught her to keep Jason interested in her.
Angela let herself in with her key and was surprised to see her mum, aunt and neighbour Cathy, sitting in the lounge sipping wine. ‘Bit early, ain’t it? Turning into right alkies, yous lot are,’ she said, giggling.
‘Cheeky little mare,’ Cathy mumbled under her breath. She was no big fan of Pam’s youngest daughter.
‘After the day I’ve had, I deserve a crate of bleedin’ wine, I dunno about a glass,’ Pam said, defending herself. Up until recently, she and Cath had only had a bottle of wine between them on a Saturday evening; now it seemed to be at least two or three nights a week because their lives seemed so bloody stressful at the moment. Cathy’s son had moved in with his wayward girlfriend and Pam had never been so worried about her girls in all her life.
Angela smirked. If her mother had had a bad day, it obviously meant she had already spoken to Mr Jones. ‘Where’s Steph? She not home from school yet?’ she asked, innocently.
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Now go upstairs and get washed and changed. We’re all eating dinner at the table this evening. Me, you and your sister need to have a nice little chat,’ Pam replied in a stern tone.
‘What am I meant to have done wrong now?’ Angie asked, pretending to be annoyed.
‘It ain’t you, it’s your sister. Now do as your mum says,’ Linda urged her niece.
Cock-a-hoop that her vicious little plan had worked, Angela ran up the stairs with a big smile on her face.
Stephanie giggled as she and Barry climbed over the last fence. ‘I can’t believe we’ve trampled on everyone’s gardens. I hope no one saw us,’ she said to her boyfriend.
‘I wish you didn’t have to go home yet. Can’t you sneak back over when it’s dark again?’
Stephanie shook her head. ‘I’m still grounded, I think. It’s more than me life’s worth to get caught tiptoeing over to your house.’
Barry put his arms around Stephanie. ‘Why don’t we skip school for the rest of the week? My sister will be out and about with her bloke, so we should have the place to ourselves. We might as well make the most of it while me mum’s away and, if you’re gonna forge a note, you might as well write one for being off for a whole week rather than just two days.’
Seeing a woman walking along the street with a bag of shopping, Stephanie ducked out of Barry’s arms in case the woman knew her mum. She was truly tempted to have the rest of the week off school, but knew that by doing so, she was asking to get caught. ‘I’d better not have no more time off, Bal. I ain’t even spoken to Tammy yet – say she rings my house and puts her foot in it or something?’
‘Ring her as soon as you get in. Please Steph, my old man’s up in court tomorrow and I really don’t wanna be sitting in a classroom worrying about him. I wanna be with you.’
Feeling desperately sorry for her boyfriend for having such a tough family life, Stephanie looked into his soulful eyes and melted. How could she say no when his dad was about to be banged up? ‘OK. I’ll meet you same time, same place.’
Hearing the front door slam, Angela Crouch bolted down the stairs like a whippet. She had no intention of missing one second of her stuck-up sister getting the scolding of her life.
‘All right, sis? How was school?’ she asked, chirpily.
Steph eyed her little sister suspiciously. Angela had never asked her how her day at school had gone before, even when they were on good terms. Steph could see by the evil glint in Angie’s eyes that she knew that she had been playing truant. About to plead with her sister to keep her big mouth shut, Steph was stopped from doing so by her mother marching into the hallway.
‘Get your arse up them stairs and freshen yourself up before dinner. You and I are gonna have a nice long chat, young lady. In fact, we’re all gonna have a nice long chat, because I ain’t having this family going off the rails.’
Feeling anxious, Stephanie ran up the stairs. Angela had obviously grassed her up, which would put paid to her spending the rest of the week with Barry, but at least nobody knew she had spent the day with him at the old slapper’s house. Her mother would have strangled her as soon as she had walked through the front door if she’d known that.
Desperate to speak to Tammy, Steph kicked herself for not coming home a bit later and using a phone box. There was only one phone indoors. It was downstairs, and Steph knew she wouldn’t be able to speak properly with her mum and sister earwigging. Taking a deep breath, Steph looked into the mirror and smiled. Barry Franklin had told her he loved her today, and nothing that her mother said to her could mar the happiness she currently felt inside.
Usually, Pam and the girls ate their dinner sitting in front of the TV with a tray on their laps, but wanting to eat and chat like a proper family for once, Pam set the dining table. Cathy was staying for dinner as well and Lin would be there, too – it was unusual for Linda to even be in at meal times, as she usually finished work and went straight to the pub.
Angela was the first to sit down at the table. ‘What we got for dinner then, Mum?’ she enquired. She couldn’t wait to watch her sister squirm, and just knew she was going to enjoy this meal whatever old crap her mum decided to serve up.
Knowing what a fussy little mare her youngest daughter could be, Pam immediately went on the defensive. ‘Minced beef hotpot and don’t you dare start whinging and saying you want something else, ’cause I ain’t in the bloody mood today, Angela.’
When the phone rang, Lin answered it immediately. ‘Steph, Tammy’s on the phone,’ she shouted out.
Stephanie bounded down the stairs, snatched the phone out of her aunt’s hand and dragged the lead into the hallway.
‘Can you talk?’ Tammy asked.
‘Not really,’ Steph replied. The kitchen and the lounge opened off the hallway and her mum was no more than ten feet away from her, serving the dinner up.
‘I thought I’d better warn you, I think I might have put my foot in it with your sister today. I asked her why you hadn’t been at school and I could tell by her reaction that she didn’t know. I’m really sorry, Steph. I know what a bitch Angie can be, but I made her swear on her life that she wouldn’t tell your mum.’
Stephanie was feeling more confused by the minute. Something was wrong. The house had had a strange kind of atmosphere about it when she’d first come home, but her mum had just smiled at her, so perhaps Angela hadn’t opened her big gob after all. ‘Don’t worry about it, mate,’ Steph whispered.
‘Have you been spending time with Barry? Will you be in school tomorrow?’ Tammy asked.
‘Yes, and I dunno. Listen, I’ve gotta go, Tam, me dinner’s ready I think.’
‘If you ain’t at school tomorrow, try and ring me from somewhere else. I’m dying to hear all the goss,’ Tammy said. School just wasn’t the same without her best pal by her side. She was beginning to wish that Steph had never met Barry bloody Franklin, as she felt she was losing her friend.
‘Will do. Bye Tam,’ Steph replied.
‘So, why are we all sitting at the table, Mum? Is this a special occasion or something?’ Angela asked innocently, when her sister sat down between Cathy and Linda.
‘Eat your dinner first and then me and yous girls will have a nice little chat afterwards,’ Pam replied, quite calmly.
Stephanie locked eyes with her sister, then stared at her plate. She wasn’t at all hungry. She felt far too loved-up to eat, but knew if she didn’t try and force her dinner down her gullet, her mum would go apeshit.
‘I can’t eat no more, but that was lovely, Mum,’ Angela lied a few minutes later. She was a bit worried that her mum kept saying she wanted a chat with both her and Steph, and Angie really hoped Mr Jones hadn’t dobbed her in the shit.
‘I’ve had enough as well, Mum,’ Stephanie mumbled. She wanted to know what was wrong, as the waiting to find out was doing her head in.
Seeing her mother leave her own dinner, Stephanie began to feel more nervous than ever. Her mother usually ate like a horse; if her appetite had deserted her, perhaps she was seriously ill or something. She might have that terrible disease, cancer. One of her friend’s mums at school had just died from that. ‘Are you ill, Mum? Please tell me what this is all about? Because you’re really worrying me now.’
Pam took a gulp of her wine and stared at her deceitful eldest daughter. ‘The only thing that is making me ill is the worry over you and that boy. I know you’ve been bunking off school to spend time with him, and I’m sure you were in his house today, as I kept seeing the curtains twitch. Now, don’t lie to me, Steph. Were you in that house?’
‘You cow!’ Stephanie spat, glaring at her sister.
‘Now don’t you start blaming her. It was your head of year, Mr Jones, that told me, not Angela. Well, was you with that boy in that old slapper’s house or not?’
‘Just tell your mum the truth, sweetheart,’ Lin urged, squeezing her favourite neice’s hand.
‘Yeah I was, but all we did was play some records. We’ve nowhere else to go, have we? I’m too frightened to be seen with him in case you go off your head, and I only bunked off ’cause you grounded me. I love him, Mum. Barry is the kindest, nicest boy I have ever met in my life and I won’t let you stop me seeing him just because of who his mother is. It ain’t fair,’ Stephanie whinged.
Angela’s smirk was completely wiped off her face as her mother stood up and urged Steph to give her a hug. ‘I need you to promise me that you’ll never play truant again. These last two years at school are your most important and I’ll be so disappointed if you don’t get good marks in your exams, Steph.’
Surprised by her mother being so understanding, Stephanie began to cry. ‘But, what about Barry? How am I meant to concentrate on me school work if I ain’t even allowed to see him? I promise I won’t ever bunk off school again and I’ll work really hard, if you just let me see him sometimes, Mum. Can I see him, please?’
Pam still hated the thought of her beautiful daughter being involved with Marlene’s son, but seeing Cathy smile at her and remembering her friend’s wise words, Pam bit her lip and nodded. ‘I’ll allow you to see him, but only if I can meet him first.’
Angela watched the scene unfolding in front of her in complete and utter disbelief. Her little chat with Mr Jones was meant to have spelt curtains for Steph’s relationship with Barry. Instead, all it had done was enhance it.
‘Can I go and tell Barry now, Mum? Shall I get him to pop over in a bit?’ Steph said, overcome by excitement.
Pam looked at Linda and Cathy.
‘Yeah, sod it. If this lad has you grinning like you are, girl, then we all wanna meet him, don’t we?’ Lin said, winking at Steph.
‘Well, I don’t wanna meet him. All yous lot have done for weeks is stare out the window and slag off the old slapper over the road, so why have we now suddenly gotta be nice to her son? I’m going out! You all make me sick,’ Angela spat venomously, pushing her chair so hard it almost toppled over.
Pam grabbed her youngest daughter’s arm. Mr Jones had let on that Angela was extremely worried about Steph and had spoken to him, and Pam knew that the spoilt little cow had only done it out of spite. She had always been more lenient with Angela, just because she was the baby of the family, but from now on things were about to change. ‘You ain’t going out nowhere, young lady. You’ll sit ’ere with us tonight and be polite to your sister’s boyfriend, and then tomorrow me and you are going up the Heathway to get you a hair dye. As I told you the other day, you ain’t going out to play at all until you dye that hair of yours back to its original colour. Look like a bloody child prostitute, you do.’
Absolutely livid that her mother seemed more bothered about the colour of her hair than Stephanie bunking off school, Angela burst out crying and ran up the stairs. ‘I hate you. I hate you all,’ she screamed.
Hearing the springs on the bed bouncing up and down once again, Barry Franklin turned up the volume on the TV to drown out his sister’s cries of unbridled passion. He had once been really close to Chantelle when they were young, but just lately they seemed to argue like cat and dog. Chantelle despised the fact that he still had a good relationship with his father. She also treated her pregnancy as though she had a serious illness and, since Barry had moved back home, she had expected and screamed at him to wait on her hand and foot. Debating whether to go out and find Jacko, Barry heard the doorbell ring.
‘What you doing ’ere? Get inside quick,’ he urged.
‘You’ll never guess what! Mum wants you to come over to ours,’ Steph said, with a big grin on her face.
‘You winding me up or summink?’ Barry replied, bemused.
Hearing terrible noises coming from up the stairs, Stephanie nodded towards them. ‘What’s going on up there?’
‘It’s me sister and her boyfriend. Doing my head in, the pair of ’em are. Did your mum really say I can come over?’ Barry asked, conveniently changing the subject.
‘Yep, but I’ve had to promise her I won’t bunk off school no more, so I can’t take the rest of the week off,’ Steph explained, apologetically.
‘I must get changed and put some aftershave on. I don’t want your mum to think I’m some tramp. Why did she change her mind, Steph?’
‘I think my bitch of a sister grassed on me, but Mum reckons Mr Jones, our head of year, rang her up. It don’t really matter now. As long as we can be together, that’s all I care about, don’t you?’
Barry nodded. ‘You shoot back home and I’ll be over in about ten minutes, babe.’
Hearing laughter coming from downstairs, Angela Crouch lay on her bed, absolutely seething. She had seen Barry Franklin walk across the road half an hour ago. She had been spying through the curtains, and he looked even fitter close up than he had from a distance.
‘Go away,’ Angela yelled, as she heard a knock on her bedroom door.
Ignoring her daughter’s order, Pam marched in and sat on the edge of Angela’s bed. She stared at her daughter’s pretty, tear-stained face, and her earlier annoyance with her immediately vanished. ‘Don’t sit up here on your own, love. Come downstairs and say hello to Barry, eh?’
Angela sat bolt upright. ‘And why would I wanna say hello to him? What’s next? Gonna invite the old slapper round for tea, are ya?’
Pam spotted a look of jealous hatred on her youngest daughter’s face and, unable to stop herself, gave her a short, sharp slap around it. ‘You, young lady, should be ashamed of yourself. I know it was you that spoke to Mr Jones. He actually believed that you were such a nice young girl, you were frantically worried about your sister. Well, I know differently, but I will never tell Stephanie, because she would be so bloody hurt. That girl has been a good sister to you, and it’s about time you started appreciating all of your family a bit more. You’re rude to Steph, me, and Lin, and its not bloody good enough. It’s my fault, I know that. Since your father died, I’ve always babied you, but I can see now that it’s not done you any favours at all, and things have to change, Angie.’
Angela threw herself into her mother’s chest. ‘I’m so sorry. I will try and be nicer to everyone, I promise I will.’
Pam held her tearful daughter in her arms. She knew deep down that her Angela was a good girl. ‘Please don’t cry. I love you so much, darling.’
‘I promise I’ll dye my hair back to its normal colour tomorrow, and I will say hello to Steph’s boyfriend,’ Angela sobbed.
Pam smiled. She had known that a few sharp words would be the thing to bring Angela back to her senses, and she had been absolutely right. Kissing Angie on the nose, Pam stood up. ‘You dry your eyes, angel, and come downstairs when you’re ready, eh?’
Angela nodded.
As soon as Pam shut the bedroom door, Angela walked over to the mirror, stared at her reflection and smirked. She needed to get back into her mother’s good books; if that meant pretending to like her bitch of a sister, then pretend she would.
CHAPTER TEN
As summer came to an abrupt end and autumn kicked in, Stephanie and Barry’s relationship seemed to go from strength to strength. Steph kept her promise to her mum by attending school regularly and working hard in her lessons, and Pam allowed Steph to spend time with Barry in return.
‘Hurry up, Ange. I’m meant to be meeting Tammy in half hour,’ Steph shouted, banging on the bathroom door. She and her sister were now on speaking terms, but were hardly best buddies.
‘You’re such an impatient cow. You ain’t gonna be here later when Jase comes round, are you?’ Angela shouted, flouncing out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her as though she were the Queen of Sheba. Angela had pestered her mum for weeks to allow her to bring Jason O’Brien home for dinner. ‘It ain’t fair! Barry’s round ’ere all the time and I have to put up with that. How comes Steph’s allowed to bring her boyfriend round and I ain’t? You always side with Steph,’ Angela had whinged only yesterday. Her drama-queen act had worked, and her mother had agreed that Jason O’Brien was now welcome at the house as well. Today he was coming for roast dinner, the first of many, Angela hoped.
‘No. I won’t be here later. Barry’s taking me out for a meal,’ Stephanie said, feeling extremely grown-up. Apart from a regular plate of chips in British Home Stores in Romford, or the odd sit-in at McDonald’s, this would be the first proper meal that Steph had ever been out for without an adult being present.
‘Where you going?’ Angela asked, with a hint of jealousy in her voice. Not only did she think Barry Franklin was far too handsome and entertaining to be dating the likes of her plain, boring sister, the way he treated her also really got Angie’s goat. Barry was forever buying Steph clothes and gifts. Even though Angela was happy with her Jason, she was still narked that her sister was being treated like she was some kind of bloody princess.
‘He’s taking me to Pizza Hut. It’s well ace in there and they have this big posh salad bar,’ Steph said, proudly.
‘What’s that in aid of then? Is it a special occasion?’ Angela asked, desperately trying to keep the spite out of her voice.
Stephanie wasn’t a very good liar, she never had been; so, red-faced, she came clean. ‘It’s Jacko’s sixteenth birthday if you must know. Tammy’s coming with us as well.’
‘Jacko ain’t going out with that pig now, is he?’ Angela asked, bluntly.
‘Tammy ain’t no pig! She is lovely, and no, they are not going out together. Jacko is a much nicer person now he don’t hang about with Potter and Cooksie all the time, and me and Tam get on really well with him now,’ Steph explained.
‘Well, bully for you,’ Angela said, nastily.
Ignoring her sister’s sarcasm, Stephanie wished her a nice day and took her turn in the bathroom.
Over in the East End of London, Barry Franklin was giving it all the spiel. ‘Come on ladies and gentlemen, you can’t beat my prices. Fifty quid in Harrods these little beauties sell for, hand on heart. Now, am I gonna charge you fifty today? No, I’m not. Nor will I charge you forty, or even thirty for that matter. Today, ladies and gentlemen, this state-of-the-art electronic toy is all yours for a tenner.’
‘Be careful, son. The Old Bill are heading this way,’ an old man shouted out.
‘Bollocks,’ Barry mumbled, as he packed the kiddies’ toys into the big grey suitcase and rapidly made his way back to Aldgate East Station. It was just over three weeks now since his mum had disappeared off to Spain and, seeing as she had left him virtually no money, Barry had had to work fly pitching toys down Petticoat Lane Market on a Sunday just to get by. His boss, Steve, had said he could have the bath towels to sell but, because they were so heavy, Barry hadn’t been able to take him up on his offer. Instead, he’d had a word with another pal of his and had been selling knocked-off plastic robots instead.
The train journey back to Dagenham from Aldgate took about thirty-five minutes and, as he usually did, Barry spent his time on the train thinking about Stephanie. Once or twice in the past, Barry had thought he had been in love, but he now knew that he hadn’t. The way Steph made him feel was nothing he had ever experienced in his life before. They had yet to make love, but Barry was sure that she was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Sex wasn’t everything and, even though Barry was gagging to pop Stephanie’s cherry, he was determined not to put pressure on her. He loved her that much, he would wait for years to do the deed if she wanted him to.
Barry’s daydreaming nearly caused him to miss his stop, but he somehow managed to prise the doors open just in time. Suitcase in hand, he jogged home as fast as his heavy load would allow him. He hadn’t had a magnificent day today like he had last Sunday, but he reckoned he’d cleared fifty quid, which was enough to take Steph out and see him through the next few days. Now his sister’s bloke was out of nick, he didn’t have to support her any more and, worse ways, he could always skip school on Thursday and work up Roman Road with Steve. Inserting his key inside the lock, Barry heard the phone ringing. He dashed to answer it in case it was Steph. It wasn’t. It was his mother ringing from a callbox in Spain.
‘How’s my lovely boy?’ Marlene asked when she finally worked out how to put the money in the slot.
Barry was immediately suspicious. He’d only heard from his mum once since she had gone to Spain, and that was to tell him that she had no idea when she would be home. As for calling him lovely, ‘little bastard’ was the nearest thing he’d ever had to a compliment off her in the past. Guessing his mum had split up with Jake the Snake and was now after money for the air fare home, Barry sighed. ‘How much do you need?’ he asked in a sarcastic tone.
‘What do you mean?’ Marlene asked.
‘Money! How much money do you need, Mum? I ain’t got a lot, but I suppose I can get hold of it for you somehow.’
‘I don’t need no money, Barry. And even if I did, I wouldn’t ask you for it, would I? You’re my favourite son, you are.’
About to remind his mum that he was her only son, Barry decided not to bother. The only other reason in the world she could be being nice to him was that she was drunk, so he decided to humour her instead. ‘Nice to hear from you, Mum. I’ve gotta go now as I’m taking me girlfriend out and I’m running a bit late.’
‘But you don’t even know why I’m ringing you yet. What happened at your father’s trial? Did they bang him up?’ Marlene asked, hoping they had.
‘No. The trial ain’t finished yet. Look, what exactly do you want, Mum?’ Barry asked, his patience wearing thin.
‘Me and Jake are flying home tomorrow. Got a big surprise for you, boy, we have,’ Marlene cackled.
‘Don’t tell me, you’re getting married,’ Barry replied, wearily.
‘Nope. It’s better than that. Gonna have to go now, got no more change on me. See you tomorrow afternoon. Love you.’
Barry put the phone down and stared at it in shock. His mum had been nice, too nice, and that worried him greatly. Convincing himself that Marlene was either pregnant or had had a personality transplant, Barry smiled at his own humour and dashed upstairs to have a bath. He couldn’t wait to see Steph and, as soon as his mum arrived home, he would tell her his own big secret as well. He was in love with the girl across the road, and if his mother didn’t like it, she would have to bloody well lump it.
Stephanie and Tammy giggled excitedly as they sat on the top deck of the 174 bus that took them to Romford. They had had a great morning mooching around the Dagenham Sunday Market and had both treated themselves to the latest number one record, Billy Joel’s ‘Uptown Girl’.
‘I can’t wait till we get posh jobs up London. We’ll be uptown girls then, won’t we?’ Stephanie said, staring at the cover of the seven-inch vinyl.
Tammy lit up two cigarettes and handed one to her pal. ‘I dunno if I wanna get a job in an office up town now. My sister’s new boyfriend is a policeman and he’s been telling me loads about his job. It sounds dead exciting, so I think I might be a copper.’
Stephanie burst out laughing. ‘You are joking, ain’t ya?’
Tammy shook her head. ‘Nah, I ain’t. I think I might get bored being stuck in an office or bank from nine till five. Being a copper must be brill.’
‘Well, don’t be saying you wanna be a copper when we get to Pizza Hut, will you? Jacko’s a member of that West Ham football hooligan gang and my Barry is an illegal fly pitcher,’ Steph reminded her.
Seeing the funny side of her career choice, Tammy giggled. ‘So, have you done anything with Barry yet or what?’
‘No, nothing much.’
‘What’s nothing much mean? Have you let him tit you up or finger you yet? You ain’t wanked him off, have you?’ Tammy asked, excitedly.
‘Ssh,’ Steph replied, as she noticed a lady turn around from the seat in front and give them both a filthy look. She had let Barry fondle her breasts and put his hand inside her knickers, but she wasn’t about to discuss that on the 174 bus.
‘Tell me then?’ Tammy whispered, impatiently.
‘No, not on here. Tell me about you and Jacko. You seemed ever so cosy the other night. Do you like him, Tam?’
‘Yeah, but only as a mate. I ain’t Jacko’s type, Steph, and even if I were I wouldn’t want your bleedin’ sister’s leftovers. We do get on well though. He’s more of a laugh and so much nicer than I ever thought he would be. I used to think he was so up his own arse, but he ain’t when you really get to know him, is he?’
Stephanie nodded in agreement.
‘So, when you gonna shag Barry then?’ Tammy asked, in her usual none-too-quiet voice.
The woman who had looked around earlier stood up and glared at the girls. ‘Charming!’ she mumbled, as she moved seats.
Unable to stop themselves, both Stephanie and Tammy burst out laughing.
Pam had been not only surprised, but also delighted by how nice Angela’s boyfriend was. She had been extremely reluctant to welcome Jason O’Brien into her home, as she felt Angie was too young to be having boyfriends, but Jason seemed rather shy, sweet, yet charming at the same time.
‘So what does your mum do on a Sunday, Jason? Does she cook a roast as well?’ Pam asked, trying to find out if the boy came from a decent home.
‘Yes, Mrs Crouch. My mum and dad are both very religious. They go to mass every Sunday morning, but Mum always puts the meat on before they leave, so we all have a nice roast dinner when she gets home.’
Pam glanced at Cathy as if to mentally say: please don’t swear. Linda was out on the lash again, all of them spoke like navvies at times, and now Angela – of all people – had brought home a boy who came from a godly family. ‘So, what church do your parents attend, love?’ Pam asked.
‘My family are Irish Catholics. They go to St Peter’s Church, near the Chequers.’
Pam was Church of England, but knew very little about her religion – or anyone else’s, for that matter. ‘Would you like some dessert now, Jason? I’ve got homemade apple crumble, or there’s plenty of ice cream in the freezer, if you’d prefer that?’
‘You’re not still hungry, are you Jase?’ Angela said, kicking her boyfriend under the table.
‘No thank you, Mrs Crouch. I’m really full up,’ Jason replied, politely.
‘Can we please go upstairs and play some records now, Mum?’ Angela asked, in her innocent, childlike voice.
Pam thought carefully before answering. She refused to let Stephanie and Barry sit in the bedroom together because she found it inappropriate. It was different with Angie though. She had not long turned thirteen, and seeing as her boyfriend came from a church-going family, she really couldn’t see the harm in it. ‘You can, but don’t you dare tell your sister, as I don’t want her sitting upstairs with that Barry,’ Pam replied.
‘Come on, Jase,’ Angela said, grabbing her boyfriend by the hand.
‘And make sure you behave yourselves. I shall be checking up on you regularly, you know,’ Pam shouted out, as her daughter bolted up the stairs with Jason in tow.
Angela pushed Jason against the landing wall, snogged him passionately and smirked. ‘We’ll be on our best behaviour, I can promise you that, Mum.’
Wayne Jackman stared wistfully at Stephanie and Barry as they walked up to the salad bar laughing and joking. He wasn’t jealous of their happiness. He was just annoyed with himself for not taking Steph up on her offer when she had asked him out in the first place.
‘You OK, Jacko? Shall I order us all another drink?’ Tammy asked. They’d been ordering glasses of Coke and sneakily pouring the vodka in from a bottle Barry had bought to the restaurant with him.
‘Yeah, order some more up, girl,’ Wayne replied, chirpily. He liked Tammy, thought she was great fun, but she was no ravishing beauty and he certainly didn’t fancy her. Steph was the looker of the two. She had intelligence and an aura about her, and Wayne could kick himself for choosing her stupid sister over Steph. He must have been mad and blind, but it was too late to do anything about it now. When Barry and Steph returned to the table, Wayne smiled at them. ‘Get the vodka out, Bazza.’
Making sure none of the waitresses were looking, Barry poured a generous amount in all four of their glasses, then screwed the lid back on the bottle. He lifted his glass aloft, ‘To a top geezer who I owe my life to. Happy birthday, Jacko.’
With the washing-up out of the way, Pam flopped down in the armchair opposite Cathy.
‘Shall I open that bottle of wine now?’ Cathy asked, hopefully.
‘No! We can’t keep drinking the bloody stuff, Cath. We’ll have problems before you know it and we’ll have to join that Alcoholic’s Anonymous group. We should just drink it on a Saturday night like we used to, or the odd special occasion.’
Cathy chuckled. Pam could be such an old fuddy-duddy at times. ‘We’re hardly bleedin’ alkies are we? There’s only a couple of poxy glasses each in a bottle. Anyway, it is a special occasion. It would have been my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary today.’
Pam looked at her pal in amazement. ‘But you hated your old man, Cath.’
‘Yeah, I know. Still a bloody special occasion though, ain’t it?’
Pam burst out laughing. Sometimes she didn’t know what she would do without having Cath to lighten up her day. ‘Go on then, you pisshead.’
‘Pot calling kettle,’ Cathy joked.
Suddenly remembering her youngest daughter was up in her bedroom with a boy for the very first time, Pam leapt out of the chair. ‘I’d better go up and check on ’em. They’re a bit quiet up there, ain’t they?’
‘Stop worrying and sit back down. The top forty’s just started and you know how your girls are addicted to listening to them bleedin’ charts. You can guarantee Angie is making that poor boy listen to the rundown like she’s made me and you listen to the shit in the past. She’s only thirteen, Pam.’
‘You reckon that’s all they’re doing, then?’ Pam asked, feeling relieved.
Cathy grinned. ‘Of course it is.’
With the top-forty chart on in the background, Angela released Jason’s big, hard penis from the zip of his jeans and, without warning, shoved it inside her mouth.
‘Oh, Ange. That feels great, but say your mum comes up?’ Jason panted. He had only ever slept with one girl in the past and receiving a blow job was a completely new pleasure for him.
Flicking her tongue over the top of Jason’s penis like Jacko had taught her to do, Angela opened her eyes, glanced at the look of ecstasy on her boyfriend’s face, and sat up.
‘Don’t stop,’ Jason groaned.
Smirking, Angela stood up, wedged her dressing-table chair under the door so that her mum couldn’t get into the room, took her knickers off and lay on the bed. ‘Fuck me,’ she urged Jason.
‘I can’t! I ain’t got no johnnies and it don’t feel right with your mum sitting downstairs.’
‘You don’t need johnnies if you pull it out at the right time, and don’t worry about my mum, she couldn’t get in here even if she tried.’
With his hormones unable to look such a gift horse in the mouth, Jason held his penis in his right hand and rammed it inside Angela as hard as he could.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Stephanie said goodbye to Tammy outside the school gates then, hand in hand, walked home with Barry. Some of the other kids would snigger or make snide remarks over their obvious affection for each other, but Steph and Barry were in their own little bubble and really didn’t care what people said.
‘So, why weren’t Jacko at school today? Do you think he’s still hung-over from yesterday?’ Steph asked her boyfriend.
‘Nah. He told me he weren’t coming in. He’s gone to visit his old man in prison. Wait there, while I use this phone box. I’m gonna ring one of me dad’s mates. I wanna find out if he’s been sentenced yet.’
Stephanie stared at Barry through the glass panels on the big red door. She couldn’t work out by the expression on his face whether the news he was being told was good or bad. ‘Well?’ she asked, as he finally opened the door.
‘Four years he got.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Bal,’ Stephanie said, putting her arms around her boyfriend to give him a comforting hug.
‘It ain’t as bad as it sounds. He’ll be out in two if he behaves himself. I used to really like living with him though, Steph. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I moved to Dagenham else I would never have met you, but I hate living with me muvver and sister. They both treat me like I’m their slave. Me sister used to be all right years ago but, since she’s been with her bloke, she’s got even worse.’
‘Surely the council should give your sister a place now she’s pregnant? My mum reckons a lot of these young girls get pregnant on purpose these days, just so they can jump the housing queue,’ Stephanie said.
‘They ain’t allowed to give her a place until she’s sixteen, I don’t think. Her birthday’s the beginning of December, so hopefully she’ll move out then. Oh shit, me muvver’s home already,’ Barry said as they turned the corner.
Stephanie immediately let go of Barry’s hand as she spotted Marlene. She was wearing a short mauve skintight Lycra dress and had a big straw hat on her head. Her sandals were white and they had the biggest stiletto heel on them that Steph had ever seen.
‘Barry!’ Marlene exclaimed, opening her arms and running towards her son.
‘I’d better get indoors,’ Steph said, bluntly. She didn’t want to face the wrath of her mother if she was caught talking to Marlene.
‘I’ll knock for you later,’ Barry said understandingly, as his mum stumbled towards him in her high heels and fell into his arms.
‘Gissa cuddle. I ain’t ’arf missed you, boy. Me and Jake had a wonderful time. We bought you back some bottled sangria and I got you two hundred fags. That girl you were walking along with ain’t your bit of fluff, is she? Can’t stand her fat fucker of a mother. She always looks down her nose at me,’ Marlene said as she clocked where Steph went.
Barry stared at his mother in utter disbelief. He could never remember her cuddling him before, not even when he was a small child – and her saying she had missed him, that was a first as well. As for her buying him presents, she never treated him to sod all and had even forgotten his birthday for the past two years running. Ignoring Marlene’s question about Stephanie, Barry stared her straight in the eyes. ‘I ain’t no div, Mum. Something’s going on, so best you tell me what. Are you getting married? Are you pregnant? Just spit it out, I’m a big boy now.’
Marlene burst out laughing. She hated children, didn’t even like the two she’d given birth to very much. ‘Don’t be so silly. I’d rather sew me fanny up than have any more kids. Got enough on me plate with you and your bleedin’ sister, ain’t I? Where is Chantelle, by the way?’
‘Out with Ajay somewhere. So, are you getting married or what?’
Marlene linked arms with her only son. ‘No, it’s much more exciting than that. Let’s go and open that sangria. We’ll discuss it indoors.’
Pam and Cathy were stuck to the living-room window like two tubes of superglue.
‘Will yous two come away from that window. I don’t want Barry to see you spying on him. It’s embarrassing,’ Stephanie said, annoyed.
Pam watched Marlene tottering up the path in her ridiculously high heels, then turned to face Steph. ‘I really don’t think it’s a good idea that Barry comes over here now his mum’s home, love. You can still see him and that, but don’t bring him indoors and don’t you dare go over there.’
Stephanie looked at her mother in total dismay. ‘But why not? Barry enjoys coming over here. What am I meant to say to him, Mum?’
Pam shrugged. Barry had done nothing wrong, but there was no way he was stepping foot over her threshold now his mother was back home. Say Marlene saw him and came and knocked on the door? Or, even worse, say she expected an invite herself?
‘Please don’t stop Barry from coming round, Mum,’ Stephanie begged.
‘I’m sorry, Steph, but I told you when the boy first came round here that he was only allowed to have dinner and pop in until his mother came back. I will not have my name darkened by being involved with that old slapper, so I’m sorry but the answer’s no. Now, that’s the end of the matter.’
Devastated by her mother’s callousness, Stephanie grabbed her school bag off the sofa and ran up the stairs, sobbing.
Barry pulled a face as he sipped the drink that his mother had given him. He had never drunk sangria before, and in his opinion it tasted vulgar – a bit like sweet vinegar.
‘Don’t you like it, boy? Wanna shot of JD with me instead?’ Jake the Snake asked.
Barry nodded his head. Both his mother and Jake the Snake kept smiling at him and he was becoming more perplexed by the second at their sickly niceness towards him. ‘So, what’s this big news, then?’
Marlene grinned. ‘Jake’s bought a bar in a really posh part of Spain. It’s beautiful, Bal, and it’s gonna be called Marlene’s.’
Barry was well chuffed. If his mother moved abroad and his sister moved out, he would have the whole house to himself. ‘That’s blinding news, Mum. So, when you going out there to live?’
‘Next week. I ain’t telling the authorities I’m living out there though, because I don’t wanna lose me social money or this house, so if anyone asks you, just say we’ve bought a holiday home and we’re flitting backwards and forwards. I can’t wait for you to see it, Barry. It’s top notch and we’re gonna sell all posh food in there as well. Jake’s hired a proper chef, ain’t you, babe?’ Marlene gushed, squeezing her sugar daddy’s hand.
‘Sounds ace. I’ll have to come out there for a holiday one day,’ Barry replied, chirpily.
Marlene burst out laughing. ‘You dopey sod! You’ll be moving out there with us. You’re gonna love it, Bal, and you wanna see the girls out there. You’ll have a field day, son.’
Barry looked at his mother in stupefied shock. ‘I don’t wanna move to Spain. I wanna stay ’ere. I don’t mind having holidays out there, but I like it in England.’
‘Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. You’ll love it in Spain. What boy your age wouldn’t wanna be surrounded by the sun, sea and pretty girls. And you’ll be loaded. Jake’s gonna pay you well, ain’t you, Jake?’
‘How’s a hundred sovs a week sound?’ Jake asked, grinning.
‘I couldn’t give a shit if you were paying me a thousand sovs a week, I still wouldn’t wanna go to Spain. I like living in Dagenham. I like my job on the market and I ain’t leaving me girlfriend. I love her too much.’
‘Love! You’re fourteen years old, boy. You don’t know what bleedin’ love is at your age. Anyway, you’ll easily find another bird out in Spain. Tell him how pretty the girls are out there, Jake.’
When Jake began to speak, Barry was so infuriated, he stood up. ‘I ain’t fucking going and you can’t make me go if I don’t wanna,’ he screamed.
Marlene leapt off the sofa and grabbed her son by the shoulders. ‘Oh yes I can! I’m your mother, and now your father ain’t gonna be around to look after you, you have no choice but to live wherever I wanna live.’
‘But what about school? Can’t I finish me schooling and then come out there if you still want me to? I can look after meself, you know that. And what about Chantelle? She’ll be about to keep an eye on me, won’t she?’
‘Don’t give me all that old bollocks about school. You might be clued up and streetwise, but you’re hardly academically bright, are you? You’ve always said you couldn’t wait to leave bloody school and work full time. Well, now’s your fucking chance to make something of your life. Just think of how well off you’re gonna be, earning a ton a week at your age.’
Barry sat back down in the armchair and put his head in his hands. If he hadn’t already met Steph, he would have jumped at the chance of moving to Spain and earning a hundred quid a week, but he couldn’t bear to be parted from her. ‘I ain’t going, Mum. I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave me bird.’
‘You can and you will, boy. Jake needs you to help him run this bar, we both do, so like it or not, that’s what you’ll be doing,’ Marlene snapped back.
‘Can’t you just employ someone else to do it?’
Marlene’s earlier façade of being nice had now all but disappeared and she was becoming more irate by the second at her ungrateful son’s attitude. ‘No, we fucking well can’t! Now you listen to me, Barry. I don’t want you with me in Spain any more than you wanna be there, but we need your help. There’s a lot of heavy lifting and stuff to be done, and we need someone who can keep an eye on the place who we can trust. Jake ain’t as young and fit as you are, so you can do all the donkey work, while me and him run the actual gaff. There is no way we are employing any of them Spaniards, ’cause we can’t stand the greasy bastards, and if we employ a decent English bloke, he’s gonna cost us big bucks. So, like it or lump it, boy, you’re moving to Spain. Now, do yourself a favour and get that smacked-arse face of yours out of my sight before I give you what for, you selfish little fucker.’
Absolutely furious, Barry grabbed his door key and ran out of the house.
Stephanie was lying on her bed crying when Angela came into the room.
‘What’s up? Has Barry dumped you or something?’ Angela asked, hopefully.
‘No, it’s Mum,’ Steph replied, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve.
‘What’s she done?’
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Kimberley Chambers
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 28.04.2024
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О книге: The heir to Martina Cole’s crown with a story of murder, the underworld, violence and treachery.It’s 1983 and Stephanie Crouch’s life is dull. She is desperate to escape the run-down, pokey council house she shares with her overbearing family, but at fourteen years old she has nowhere to go.When Stephanie meets East End wide-boy Barry, his cockney charm and quick tongue soon have her head over heels in love. Finally Stephanie feels like her dreary life is on the up. But too young to control their fate, Stephanie and Barry are torn apart when he is whisked away to Spain by his family.Lonely and heartbroken Stephanie turns to Barry’s childhood friend Wayne for comfort, and their friendship soon blossoms into romance, leaving Barry fuming and promising revenge…Ten years later Barry returns to England. Within one month Stephanie′s happy world with Wayne is turned upside down. People immediately start to point the finger of accusation at Barry, but is he the one to blame?Or, should Stephanie look elsewhere to find the schemer who has ruined her life?