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 t
his 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.’
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