‘Don’t tell me, let me guess. Your trousers are Farahs, the jacket’s Lyle and Scott and that’s a Burberry scarf. Am I right?’ Tammy asked, trying to remember what motif was what.
Wayne laughed. ‘Nearly. The scarf is Aquascutum, but you’re getting there. So, we ready to party or what? Me mate’s coming as well, but he can’t get here till half eight.’
‘What mate? You ain’t invited Potter or Cooksie, have ya?’ Stephanie asked, abruptly.
‘No! I hardly see them mugs any more. Danno’s coming. You know, Danny MacKenzie.’
‘Ain’t he the one whose party you was at when you found out my sister’s real age?’ Steph asked.
‘Yeah, but that don’t matter, does it? Danno’s cousin, Tanya, is the same year as your sister.’
‘Yeah, I know. My sister can’t fucking stand her, Jacko.’
Wayne giggled and put an arm around Stephanie’s tense shoulders. ‘Calm down, girl.’
By the time Danny MacKenzie arrived, Stephanie and Tammy were both well on their way to being sozzled. Danny was of medium height, had very broad shoulders, dark auburn hair, a few freckles on his nose and an extremely cheeky grin.
‘What can I get you to drink, ladies?’ he asked, fixing his gaze on Tammy.
‘They’ll have two ciders, but get ’em pints, ’cause it’s rammed up that bar and you can’t get served. Actually, let’s get two rounds in. I’ll come up there with you,’ Wayne replied.
Stephanie waited until the lads were out of earshot, then turned to Tammy. ‘He fancies you, that Danno.’
‘No he don’t! He doesn’t even know me.’
‘Well, he wants to know you. I could tell by the way he was staring at you,’ Steph replied, giggling.
Tammy punched her friend playfully on the arm. ‘You’re a fine one to talk, you are. Jacko well fancies you.’
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid. He’s Barry’s best mate. He’s just looking after me while Bal’s away, that’s all.’
Tammy shook her head. ‘No, he ain’t mate. He’s well loved-up with you, and if you can’t see that you gotta be blind.’
Two hours laters, Stephanie had to admit that her friend’s prediction might be right. Wayne hadn’t taken his eyes off her for the past half-hour and had just asked her to dance as the DJ slowed down the tempo.
‘Come on, have a dance with me. I bet Bazza’s out partying with that Sally and I put money on it he’d dance with her if she asked him,’ Wayne said, knowing that Sally was a sore subject. His feelings for Stephanie were far too strong to worry about betraying his childhood pal. He even kept reminding himself that he’d once saved Barry’s life to ease the odd twinge of guilt he occasionally felt.
Stephanie glanced at Tammy and Danno. They seemed to be getting along famously and Steph was pleased for her friend as she rarely had any luck with boys. She turned back to Wayne. ‘Look at me, I look a right state in these jeans. I didn’t realize everyone would be done up to the nines. I can’t get up and dance like this.’
Wayne stared intently into Steph’s eyes. ‘Yes, you can. You look beautiful, and jeans or no jeans, you still knock spots off any girl in here.’
Stephanie averted her eyes from Wayne’s. She felt lightheaded and extremely confused. Even though she had been arguing with Barry lately, she was sure she still loved him, but she also knew she had started to develop feelings for Wayne. When the DJ played Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’, Steph allowed Wayne to lead her onto the makeshift dance floor. When he wrapped his hands around her waist and then lowered them to her buttocks, Steph didn’t push him away. Instead she responded by nestling her head into his sweet-smelling neck, which reeked of aftershave. In a strange way, being this close to Wayne kind of reminded her of what she’d had with Barry.
‘When the slow dances stop, shall we go outside for a bit?’ Wayne whispered in Stephanie’s ear.
Whether it was the amount of alcohol she had consumed or just lust taking over, Stephanie didn’t know, but she found herself agreeing. As their lips met for the very first time, Stephanie had no idea that she was being watched by an extremely interested spectator.
Barry’s sister Chantelle had never been in the Church Elm pub before and she was absolutely livid at the scene that had just unfolded in front of her. ‘Fucking slag, I’m gonna glass her and that cunting Jacko,’ Chantelle screamed, as she slurped the rest of her Bacardi and lemonade and made to dart towards the door with the empty glass held above her head.
Ajay, Chantelle’s boyfriend, quickly grabbed hold of his heavily pregnant other half and dragged her over to the corner of the pub. ‘Don’t fucking start, Chantelle. I only just got out the slammer and I’m still on probation, you stupid bitch.’
‘But that’s Barry’s girlfriend and his best mate getting off with one another. It ain’t fucking right! My brother’s been in bits over that no-good slag,’ Chantelle yelled.
Ajay pointed a stern finger into Chantelle’s face. ‘You keep out of it, understand? I got all types of shit on me and if it kicks off and I get searched, you’ll be bringing up our baby on your own.’
Chantelle knew when to shut up. Ajay had always been a bit handy with his fists and she didn’t fancy feeling the brunt of his temper this evening. ‘I’m gonna have to ring Barry in Spain tomorrow and tell him. Will you back me up in case he don’t believe me?’
Ajay actually quite liked Barry and had no intention of letting him be made a fool of by some unfaithful whore. Grabbing hold of Chantelle’s ever-expanding arse, Ajay squeezed it and treated her to a toothy grin. ‘We’ll ring Bazza first thing in the morning, and we’ll tell him together, OK?’
Stephanie Crouch had never envisaged losing her virginity while standing against a wall in a dingy, dark alleyway in Dagenham Heathway, but that was exactly how it happened.
‘You’re fucking beautiful, Steph. I’ve wanted to do this for ages,’ Wayne panted, as he put his hands around Stephanie’s buttocks and urged her to put her legs around his waist.
Not used to drinking pints of cider, Stephanie felt drunk – very drunk, in fact. She had also had a couple of puffs on a spliff that Wayne had given her, and her body didn’t feel like it belonged to her any more. She felt as though she was floating in the air, not standing up.
Wayne made lots of grunting noises, then withdrew his penis from Steph’s vagina. ‘That was wicked,’ he said, as he took off his condom and threw it over somebody’s back garden.
‘Where’s me knickers? I can’t find ’em,’ Steph said, frantically looking around on her hands and knees.
Rummaging around on the ground, Wayne found Stephanie’s knickers, then helped her put her jeans back on. ‘Who was better, me or Bazza?’ he asked, bluntly.
Stephanie was confused. ‘What you on about?’
‘You know? Who was the best shag?’
‘I didn’t do anything with Barry. We never got that far,’ Steph replied, honestly.
‘Bazza told me you’d done it with him loads of times. He’s such a fucking liar,’ Wayne said, laughing.
‘I’ve never done it with anyone before. That was my first time.’
Feeling like the cat that had just got the biggest plate of cream ever, Wayne put an arm around Stephanie’s waist. ‘You’re my girl now. ‘
Feeling woozy and extremely light-headed, Stephanie stared at Wayne vacantly, then promptly threw up all over his new Kicker boots.
The following morning, the realization of what she had done hit Stephanie like a ton of bricks as soon as she opened her eyes. She immediately fished around her neck for her gold heart pendant and held it tightly in her right hand.
‘What’s a matter? Mum said you were well drunk when you came home last night. She was proper going into one when I came in, and she reckons you ain’t allowed out for a month,’ Angela informed her sister.
Steph pulled the quilt over her head and burst into tears.
‘Don’t cry. She probably don’t mean it. You know what Mum�
�s like, she says these things and never carries out her threat,’ Angela said, sitting on the edge of her sister’s bed.
‘I hope she does mean it, ’cause I don’t ever wanna go out again,’ Stephanie wept.
Angela pulled the quilt from over her sister’s head. ‘What you done? Has something bad happened?’
Desperate for somebody to comfort her, Stephanie threw herself into her sister’s arms. ‘I’ve done something really bad, Ange.’
Many miles away, Barry Franklin felt physically sick as he listened to what his sister had to say. ‘Are you sure they were getting hold of one another? Perhaps Steph was just drunk and upset and Jacko was comforting her?’ Barry said, not wanting to believe the awful truth.
‘Of course I’m sure they were getting hold of one another. Steph had her tongue stuck down Jacko’s throat in the pub, then I made Ajay follow them outside. He saw them at it in an alleyway, Bal. That girl’s a stinking old whore and if you don’t believe me, speak to Ajay yourself. He’s standing here right next to me,’ Chantelle explained.
Barry’s eyes filled up with tears of humiliation and, unable to listen to any more of what his sister had to say, he cut her off.
‘What’s up with you? You soppy little fucker,’ Marlene asked brutally, as she strolled into the lounge.
‘Chantelle just rang up. She went out for a drink last night and saw Jacko and Steph together. They were fucking getting hold of one another,’ Barry yelled.
Instead of comforting her distraught son like most mothers would, Marlene burst out laughing. ‘Oh well, best I take me wedding outfit back to the shop. Told you that little slag wouldn’t wait for you, didn’t I? You’re so gullible, Barry. You’re a mug, son.’
Barry leapt out of the armchair, his eyes blazing. ‘This is all your fault making me move out here and I ain’t no fucking mug,’ he screamed, as he grabbed his mother by the throat and pushed her against the wall.
Marlene was not only stunned, but also petrified. Jake had gone down to the bar to help clear up last night’s mess, which meant she was in the house alone with her deranged son.
‘Take back what you said and say sorry to me, you cunt,’ Barry hissed, tightening his grip.
Seeing the look of a mad man in her son’s eyes, Marlene did exactly as she was told. ‘You ain’t a mug. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry,’ she croaked.
Barry let go of his mother’s neck, then watched her splutter, hold her own throat, then fall to the floor. Her eyes were bulging with terror, and seeing the confused look on her face seemed to snap Barry out of his trance. He crouched down next to her. ‘I’m so sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Let me help you up.’
Cowering away from the child she had given birth to, Marlene turned on the waterworks. ‘Leave me alone. Get away from me you lunatic,’ she sobbed.
Realizing he must have lost it completely and not knowing what to do to make amends, Barry stood up, grabbed his can of lager and bolted out of the apartment.
Back in Dagenham, Angela was intrigued to find out what Stephanie had actually done. Her sister had never exactly been the adventurous type. Steph wasn’t exactly boring, but life and soul of the party she most definitely wasn’t. Hearing the phone burst into life, Angela stood up. ‘Let me just answer that ’cause it’s probably Jase. Stay here, I’ll get rid of him quick and then we can chat some more.’
Stephanie put the quilt back over her head. The memories of what had happened in the alleyway were pretty vague overall, but she was well aware that she had lost her virginity to Wayne Jackman. She had no idea how she actually felt about Wayne, but she knew how she felt about herself. A slag, that’s what she was. A no-good, two-timing whore who had done it in an alleyway in Dagenham.
‘Steph, it’s Barry on the phone. He don’t sound very happy,’ Angela said, bursting into the room.
Stephanie sat bolt upright. Overcome by feelings of guilt and sordidness, she knew she wouldn’t be able to speak to her boyfriend today. ‘Tell him I’ve gone out. I can’t talk to him, Ange, you’re gonna have to lie to him for me.’
‘I can’t. I’ve already told him you’re in. Talk to him, Steph,’ Angela urged. She was desperate to listen in on the conversation.
Stephanie felt incredibly ill as she ran down the stairs. Surely Barry hadn’t found out about her and Wayne? How could he? ‘You all right, Bal? Happy New Year,’ she said, as casually as her rapidly beating heart would allow her.
‘How could you, Steph? How could you get hold of Jacko?’
Realizing that Barry knew what she had done, Stephanie started to cry. ‘I’m so sorry. I was drunk and I’ve been missing you so much. It just happened, but it’s you I want, not Jacko. Please let’s not split up over this. I’ll never speak to him again. I swear on my life I won’t.’
Barry laughed nastily. ‘Do you honestly think I would want you now? You’re a fucking slag, Steph. A no good Dagenhamite whore. As far as I’m concerned, Jacko’s welcome to you. Goodbye and good riddance, you cunt.’
When the line went dead, Stephanie stared at the receiver in shock.
Angela was positioned at the top of the stairs and had overheard everything. ‘Oh my God! You’ve got hold of Jacko, haven’t you?’
‘Don’t be angry with me, Ange. I was really drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing,’ Stephanie wept.
About to tear into her sister for getting hold of her ex-boyfriend, Angela quickly decided against it. She was desperate to get to the nitty-gritty bit, and if she lost her temper she knew full well that Stephanie would clam up. ‘What exactly happened? I’m not angry, honest, I’m happy with Jase now, ain’t I?’
Sobbing her heart out, Stephanie ran upstairs and clung onto Angela for dear life. ‘I had sex with Jacko in an alleyway, Ange. I’m so sorry. Will you forgive me?’
Absolutely seething that Stephanie had slept with her first love, Angela forced a smile. She felt like going downstairs, getting a knife out of the kitchen drawer and stabbing her slut of a sister in the gut with it, but instead she kept up the façade and hugged her. ‘Of course I forgive you.’
Barry Franklin sat on the desolate beach and stared at the angry-looking waves. He found it rather therapeutic because the waves seemed to match his mood exactly. Since moving to Spain, his life had been awful, and now it had turned into absolute hell.
Picking up a pebble, Barry chucked it resentfully into the sea. The weather was bitterly cold and Barry only had a T-shirt on, but he couldn’t give a toss if he caught hypothermia. Illness was the least of his problems. Unable to suppress his feelings any more, Barry put his head in his hands and, for the first time since he actually was one, sobbed like a baby. He had loved Stephanie, loved her more than anyone or anything else in the world, and how had she repaid him? By betraying him in the worst possible way, that’s how.
Picturing Jacko’s smiling face, Barry forced himself to stop crying. He cleared his throat and spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the damp sand. For years, Barry had considered Jacko a real hero for rescuing him when he had nearly drowned that time, but now he hated him with a passion. Wayne Jackman was a Judas, a wrong ’un, and Barry knew if he lived to be a hundred, he would never, ever forgive him for what he had done. Putting his hand on his chest, Barry fingered the gold piece of jagged heart he had once worn with pride. He hated it now, wished he had never bought it. It was meant to mean something for both him and Steph, but it was obvious his slag of a girlfriend had already forgotten about him.
Shivering, Barry stood up and walked towards the sea. He stared at its coldness and made a vow to himself. Never would he let a woman break his heart again, and never again would he shed a tear over one either. Ripping the gold necklace from around his neck, Barry threw the chain and pendant as far as he could into the ocean. He scowled as he watched it disappear under the water and chose to say a few words, as though he was speaking at a funeral. ‘You might think you’ve seen the last of me, but you ain’t Steph. Neither has that other two-faced cunt. One
day, I shall return to England, and when I do, both of yous better be watching your backs. Barry Franklin ain’t no mug and I’ll make sure you learn that the hard way.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
1994 – Ten Years Later
Pamela Crouch felt physically and mentally drained as she sat on the sofa and soaked her aching, swollen feet in a bowl of soothing warm water. Organizing her father’s funeral had taken its toll on her, and attending it had brought back all the memories of her mother’s death as well.
‘Cooey, it’s only me. How did it go?’ Pam’s next-door neighbour Cathy asked, as she let herself in with her own key.
‘As well as can be expected. He had a good turnout and all his pals from the Rose of Denmark were ever so nice. I gave the landlord the money he asked me to in his letter, and I should imagine his wake is still in full swing as we speak.’
Seeing Pam’s lip start to wobble, Cathy opened up the bottle of wine she’d brought with her. She poured her friend a glass and sat down next to her. ‘You should have let me come with you, Pam. I said I didn’t mind cancelling me hospital appointment. Where are the girls? Didn’t they come back home with you?’
‘They’ve gone to pick the kids up, then they’re both popping back.’
‘What! Don’t tell me Angie’s gone to pick Aidan up. That’s a first, ain’t it? Is she ill?’
Pam shook her head sadly. Usually, she and Cathy would have a private joke over what a terrible mother her youngest daughter was, but today Pam wasn’t in the mood for cracking funnies. Her dad’s death had been quite sudden. He had been taken into hospital with a suspected angina attack, and five days later had died of pneumonia. He was only seventy years old, and had been as fit as a fiddle up until two weeks ago when he had keeled over in the Rose of Denmark pub.
‘Drink your drink. You look like you need one,’ Cathy said, handing her pal the glass of wine she had poured her.
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