Schemer (41 page)

‘Not really. Angie has always been a selfish bitch, hasn’t she?’

‘Look, please don’t have a go at me for saying this, but you don’t think she’s running away to be with Wayne or something, do you? I mean, the police did say that she left the club that night the same time as him, didn’t they?’

Stephanie nearly choked on her drink, and for the second time that evening was absolutely livid at her friend’s stupid comments. Did Tammy think that Wayne didn’t love her or something? Did she honestly think that he would opt out of their forthcoming marriage and abandon his own two children to run off with her airhead of a sister? ‘I can’t believe you just said that. What sort of fucking mate are you, eh Tam?’

‘What do you mean? I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, but Wayne and Ange did have a thing going years ago, didn’t they? She lost her virginity to him, didn’t she? Or have I got the wrong bloke?’ Tammy asked sarcastically.

Stephanie looked at her pal in total disbelief. She knew Tammy was drunk, but even so, that was no excuse for what she had just said. Steph stood up, rooted through her handbag and threw thirty quid on the table.

‘What’s that for? What you doing?’ Tammy asked.

‘That’s to pay for my meal and drinks. I’m going home.’

Tammy grabbed Steph by the arm. ‘Please don’t go. At least let’s finish our drinks first.’

Aware that people were staring at them, Stephanie moved her face closer to Tammy’s. ‘Let go of me,’ she hissed.

Tammy let go, and as Stephanie stormed out of the restaurant she was vaguely aware of two things. One was Tammy sobbing, and the other was her yelling out, ‘I’m sorry.’ Ignoring both, Steph carried on walking.

Barry pulled up in the car park at the Harrow pub in Hornchurch. He had got sick of living in a hotel and driving a hired car, so had recently taken out a three-month lease on a flat in Emerson Park, and bought himself a cheap motor. He couldn’t wait to get back to Spain now, and as soon as his mission was complete, he would be off like a shot. Picturing his stunning girlfriend, Barry dialled her number. ‘Hello sweetheart. How are you today?’

Stephanie let herself indoors, collapsed on the sofa and sobbed. Could her life get any worse at the moment? Somehow, she didn’t think so. Desperately needing someone to talk to, Steph debated whether to ring her mother, but quickly decided against it. Her mum had enough on her plate looking after Aidan and it wasn’t fair to keep worrying her. Realizing that she now only had one true friend in the world who would understand the way she felt, Steph picked up the phone and rang him.

‘Can you come round, Barry?’ she wept.

‘What’s up? Is it Jacko? Have they found him?’

‘No. I’ve fallen out with Tammy and I really feel like getting drunk and having a good old chinwag. You ain’t gotta go home. You can stop here the night in the spare room. Please say you will, Bal.’

Barry smirked. ‘I’m on me way.’

Over at Dagenham East Police Station, Marlene and Marge were in opposite cells to one another. When the police had been called to the restaurant, both women had tried to do a runner. Marge was so fat, though, she’d barely been able to waddle, let alone run, and Marlene hadn’t wanted her pal to take all the blame for something that was her fault.

‘You all right, Patsy?’ Marge shouted out. She and Marlene still hadn’t given the police their real names. Because they were inebriated, they had thought it quite hilarious to give the police the names of the characters out of their favourite TV programme,
Absolutely Fabulous
. Marlene had told the Old Bill that she was Patsy, while Marge had called herself Eddy. The police hadn’t got the joke and had thought Marlene and Marge were actually giving their real identities. In the end, short-staffed and unable to trace any address for the two women, officers slung Marge and Marlene into the cells to sober up.

‘Yep, I’m fine, Eddy. Don’t fancy spending all night in here though, do you?’ Marlene replied.

‘Why don’t you ask if you can ring your Barry, mate? They offered us a phone call, didn’t they? He can send a solicitor down ’ere for us, so we can go home. I’m dying for a crap and I can’t shit in ’ere, can I?’ Marge shouted out.

At the mention of her son, Marlene’s face twisted with anger. She was disgusted that he’d run off tonight and allowed her and Marge to be arrested. ‘I ain’t asking that little bastard for any help tonight, but I tell you what I am gonna do for us, mate.’

‘What?’

‘I’m gonna blackmail him so we can go on a nice holiday. I’m gonna tell him if he don’t give me five grand, I’m gonna tell the Spanish authorities what he did to Jake the Snake.’

‘You can’t do that, mate. Your Barry ain’t a bad lad. I’m sure you’ve got it all wrong,’ Marge replied, horrified.

‘I can do what I fucking well like. But he ain’t bad, you got that bit right – my Barry’s pure evil. The boy’s a mass murderer.’

‘Don’t be so bleedin’ stupid,’ Marge said.

‘And who’s this mass murderer we’re talking about?’ a young PC asked cockily as he approached Marlene’s cell.

Marlene snarled at the fresh-faced PC. ‘Mind your own fucking business, you spotty-faced little cunt.’

Over in Chigwell, Stephanie had just greeted Barry with open arms.

‘It’s OK, babe. You let it all out. How you’ve been so brave recently I’ll never know,’ Barry said, hugging Stephanie and stroking her hair. Even though Steph had relied on him over the past month or so, she had never been touchy-feely with him up until now, and he guessed he was finally winning her over, just like he’d hoped he would. ‘You said you wanted to get drunk, so look what I bought us,’ Barry said, gesturing to the two big carrier bags he’d put down by the door.

Stephanie peered inside the two bags. One contained a big bottle of Strongbow Cider. The other, four cans of Holsten Pils and twenty Benson and Hedges. ‘Talk about memories of our youth. I haven’t drunk cider for years, nor do I really smoke any more,’ Steph said.

‘I don’t drink Holsten any more and I only ever smoke socially now, but what the heck? I bought a couple of Eighties tapes with me as well. I thought a night reliving our youth and doing the stuff we used to might cheer you up a bit.’

Stephanie couldn’t help but grin. ‘You are so thoughtful, Barry.’

‘Yep, I know I am. Now, tell me about Tam while I pour us both a drink. Do you wanna slurp the cider out the bottle like you used to? Or, you gonna use a glass like the lady you are now?’

Stephanie opted for a glass, then sat down next to Barry on the sofa.

Barry listened intently as Stephanie explained what had happened with Tammy earlier. His ears pricked up when Steph told him that Tammy had been insistent for the past few weeks that it was he who was responsible for Wayne’s disappearance, but he said nothing until Steph had finished telling her story in full. ‘I’m really shocked Tammy seems to have it in for me so much. I always got on all right with her while I was going out with you. It was Jacko, Potter and Cooksie who took the piss out of her being ginger and stuff, not me. She’s bang out of order blaming me for Jacko going missing. I didn’t even leave the club with him, you know that, so do the Old Bill.’

‘I know you didn’t, but Tam has this stupid theory that you somehow bumped into him on the way back to the hotel, topped him, then buried him in a nearby forest. I know it’s mental, but Tammy’s always had a vivid imagination. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Bal, as when I told her that Angie was going to live in Greece, she said that she was running off to live with Wayne as well. Tam’s changed so bloody much since she met that Richard, I’m glad she’s emigrating now. Good riddance is what I say.’

Putting a casual arm around Stephanie’s shoulders, Barry kissed his ex-girlfriend on the top of the head. ‘Fuck Tammy and her ponce of a boyfriend. Chin up, you’ve still got me, babe. I’ll be your new best friend.’

Stephanie stared into Barry’s soft brown doleful eyes and, for the first time since she had got with Wayne, she saw what she had seen all those years ago. A handsome, kind, honest person, who would one day make a wonderful husband and father to some lucky girl.

Aware of the nostalgic way that Stephanie was looking at him, Barry debated whether to go in for the kill, but quickly decided against it. He knew Steph was warming to him, but she hadn’t completely fallen hook, line and sinker for him yet and he didn’t want to jeopardize the outcome of his plan. He stood up. ‘Right, I’ll put on the Eighties music while you pour us some more drinks. Tonight, Miss Crouch, you will forget all your troubles, because me and you are gonna party, girl.’

And party Stephanie and Barry most certainly did. Over the next few hours, they sang along to all the songs that reminded them of their teenage years, drank two bottles of Wayne’s expensive champagne after they had polished off the cider and lager, reminisced about old times and even got up and danced to a Duran Duran record for a giggle.

Stephanie knew that she was very drunk, but for the first time in weeks the smile on her face was genuine. Tomorrow, she would probably wake up and have the weight of the world on her shoulders once again, but tonight she was having a blast and that was all down to Barry Franklin. In her heart of hearts, Steph was sure that Wayne wasn’t ever coming back home again. What had happened to him would play on her mind forever, but one day she would have to move on with her life, whether she learned the truth or not. When Barry began singing along to ‘The Love Cats’ by The Cure, Stephanie laid her head on his shoulder. It had been years since she and Wayne had spent a night laughing, drinking, singing and chatting intimately like she and Barry just had, and it made Steph wonder if her relationship with Wayne had been as good as she thought it had.

Barry tilted Stephanie’s chin towards him. ‘What’s up? What you thinking about?’

Not wanting to slag off her relationship with her missing fiancé, Steph shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m just thinking about how much I’ve enjoyed myself tonight. Do you have nights like this with your girlfriend, Barry? What’s Jolene like? Tell me more about her.’

‘Jolene’s only a baby and she wouldn’t be interested in the music we listen to or the subjects we talk about. She’s a lovely girl, but I wouldn’t say I have as much in common with her as I do with you.’

‘So, why are you with her then? Why don’t you go out with someone older who you have more in common with, like me?’

Treating Stephanie to his killer, intense stare, Barry smiled. ‘Do you want the truth?’

Steph could feel her heart beating at double its usual speed. ‘Yeah I do.’

‘The reason I don’t go out with someone older who I have more in common with, like you, is because there is only one you, Steph.’

About to ask Barry exactly what he meant, Stephanie stopped herself from doing so. Barry’s penetrating gaze told her all she needed to know. Over the course of the evening, Stephanie had drunk an enormous amount of alcohol so whether it was that, or the thought of spending the rest of her life alone that was affecting her judgement, she really didn’t know. What she did know was that, as she locked lips with Barry for the first time in years, it not only felt good, it also felt so bloody right.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Stephanie felt mortified when she woke up the following morning. Her last memory of the previous night was of her asking Barry to go to bed with her, and then bursting into tears when he said no. Gingerly sitting up, Stephanie put her aching head in her hands. She was fully clothed, thank God, but she could recall the heavy petting session with Barry getting rather heated at one point. Stephanie stared at the photo of her and Wayne on the bedside cabinet. It had been taken on her twenty-first birthday at the party Wayne had organized for her as a surprise. Feeling incredibly guilty and absolutely disgusted with herself, Steph felt the watery bile reach the back of her throat. She dashed to the toilet, and moments later was violently sick.

Barry Franklin was inside Dagenham East Police Station. He had received a phone call from his mother at seven a.m. this morning to inform him that she and Marge were getting charged with being drunk and disorderly and affray. With it being a Sunday, Barry had told his mother to use the duty solicitor, and then he had driven straight to the nick. Steph had still been in bed when all this had happened, so Barry had left her a note telling her he would call her later this afternoon. Last night was a bit of a blur for Barry as well. They had sat up boozing until four a.m., and even though Barry had been tempted to go to bed with Stephanie and shag her brains out, he knew he’d done the right thing by saying no. Taking advantage of Stephanie while she was drunk wasn’t part of his plan. He needed to reel her in more first, and it was a tad too early for him to make his move just yet. As his mother and Marge walked towards him looking rather bedraggled, Barry stood up. ‘Was the solicitor OK? What did he say?’

‘He just advised us to say no comment. He reckons we’ll get a hefty fine, but that’s all. No thanks to you running off and leaving us in the lurch, may I add,’ Marlene said, obnoxiously.

Barry led them around the corner to where he had parked the car. ‘Look, don’t be worrying about your fines, ’cause I’ll pay ’em for both of you. As for me leaving the restaurant, I can’t afford to be getting meself nicked over ’ere. Say it had turned really nasty and I’d got nicked for GBH or something? I can’t be having my passport taken away from me. I need to get back home to Spain soon.’

‘I can’t understand why you’re still hanging around in England? I thought you’d have gone back to Spain like a shot to get your grubby little maulers on my bloody bar. It’s that slag, Stephanie, that’s keeping you ’ere, ain’t it? You poking her, or what?’ Marlene asked crudely.

‘No, Mother. I’m not “poking her”, as you so daintily put it. I’m still over here because I have a few loose ends to tie up. Once that’s done, I’ll be heading back to Spain immediately.’

‘What loose ends you got to tie up, then?’

‘Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about. Now, do you want me to drop you back at Marge’s gaff or somewhere else? You didn’t lose that dosh I gave you last night, did ya?’