Schemer (4 page)

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.