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