‘I’ll try and see you as much as I can, mate, but work’s absolutely manic at the moment. They aren’t happy that I’m leaving and some nights I don’t get finished till eight or nine. I promise we’ll go for it on your hen night, though. I’ve booked a couple of days off for that and we can party till we drop.’
‘I won’t be able to drink too much. I’ll have to look after the kids the following day,’ Stephanie replied.
‘You said that Wayne was taking care of the kids. You’ve got to have a good hen night, girl.’
‘I will enjoy myself, but I don’t wanna go too mad. Tyler’s tantrums do Wayne’s head in and he can’t handle him like I do. You know what men are like – they don’t have much patience, do they?’
‘Wayne don’t hit him or anything, does he?’ Tammy asked, bluntly.
‘No, course not,’ Stephanie lied. Wayne had clumped their son a few times just recently, but Steph had never told anyone, not even her mum. Wayne had never done any real damage to Tyler; he’d just lost his temper with the child’s unpredictable behaviour. Steph could remember her mum smacking her and Angie when they were naughty as kids, so it was no big deal. ‘You’ll never guess who Wayne’s meeting up with tonight?’ Steph said.
‘Who?’
‘Cooksie and Potter,’ Stephanie replied, laughing.
‘What’s he going out with them pair of plonkers for?’
‘Don’t ask me! You know what Wayne’s like, he gets these dumb ideas in his head and won’t rest until he’s acted on them. Apparently, he’s got in touch with Potter and Cooksie again because he wanted them to go out on his stag do with him. I reminded him what a pair of dickheads they were, but as per usual Wayne knows best. Men are strange creatures, Tam, and I’ll never understand them as long as I live.’
Tammy chuckled. ‘Wayne probably wants to relive his youth because he’s getting hitched, Steph. I bet him, Cooksie and Potter spend the evening talking about their ICF days, their bright tracksuits and silly haircuts.’
Stephanie giggled. ‘Wayne does drive me mad at times, but I do love him, Tam.’
‘And the fact he’s rich and you’ve got a nice house in Chigwell is a bonus an’ all, mate,’ Tammy added, cheekily.
Stephanie leant across the table and squeezed her pal’s hand. ‘I know I ain’t met Tricky Dicky yet, but I want you to know that I’m really pleased that you’ve met the one, Tam. Obviously, I wish you weren’t moving to Spain, but I so want you to be happy like I am.’
Looking at the sincerity in her best friend’s eyes, Tammy couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Her and Steph went way back, and Tammy knew when she stepped on that plane to start her new life, it would be Steph rather than her family that she would be thinking of.
Arriving in Gidea Park ten minutes late, Wayne Jackman parked his car in a side road and walked towards the Ship pub. Danny MacKenzie had done quite well for himself in life. He owned four tyre shops and had recently moved to a five-bedroom house that backed onto the local lake. It had been Danno who had tracked down Potter and Cooksie for him. It hadn’t proved too difficult in the end, as Potter still lived locally in Elm Park. As he strolled into the pub, Wayne was shocked as he came face to face with his one-time best friends. Cooksie was skinny and as bald as a coot and Potter looked so fat he was almost unrecognizable.
‘Fucking hell, Jacko, you look like an Indian waiter. You just got back off holiday or something?’ Potter exclaimed, laughing.
Wayne smiled politely. Neither Potter nor Cooksie had ever had much decorum. ‘No, I ain’t been on holiday for ages. I’ve got a couple of sunbeds in me gym and I’m addicted to the bastard things.’
Cooksie gave Wayne an awkward bear hug. ‘Shall we have a whip or what?’ he asked him.
Seeing as Cooksie reeked of BO, Wayne used his question as an excuse to end their hug. ‘Did you sort the booze out like I asked you to?’ he asked Danno.
When Danno nodded, Wayne slapped both Cooksie and Potter on the back. ‘Tonight’s on me, lads. I asked you to come, so this is my treat. We’ve got six bottles of champagne on ice here. Once we’ve polished them off, I’m taking us all out for a nice curry.’
Cooksie and Potter grinned at each other. Cooksie worked for London Underground, while Potter was currently unemployed, so neither were going to argue with Wayne over his generosity.
‘Why the champagne? Is this some kind of special occasion, or what?’ Potter asked when Wayne handed him a glass.
‘Yeah! I thought the champers was a nice touch, seeing as we ain’t laid eyes on one another for years, plus I’m getting married in three weeks’ time. That’s why I tracked you down. I couldn’t have me stag night without having me two oldest muckers getting pissed with me, could I now? I thought we’d go to one of them lap-dancing clubs up town, have a bit of a giggle like. I’ll be footing the bill, so you won’t have to worry about dosh.’
‘What’s a lap-dancing club? Is it a bit like line dancing?’ Cooksie asked, seriously.
Wayne, Danno and Potter all burst out laughing. ‘You’re such a fucking cock, mate. It’s one of them clubs where you pay the birds to entertain you. They strip off and dance for you and stuff,’ Potter explained.
Cooksie’s face lit up. His bird, Sharon, was no oil painting and he could do with a fresh piece of meat. ‘If there’s gonna be tits and fanny involved, then count me in.’
‘What about you?’ Wayne asked Potter.
‘What date is it?’
‘Friday the fourth of Feb. I’m getting married the following weekend. Steph’s always loved Valentine’s Day, so we’re getting married the weekend nearest to it. I surprised her on Christmas Day. She had no idea I’d booked it.’
Potter grinned. ‘Count me in an’ all. Can’t miss me old china’s stag night, can I? Danno was saying you’ve got two kids now. I’d heard you had a girl, but I didn’t know you had a boy an’ all.’
Wayne grinned. ‘Yeah, Tyler. Looks just like me, he does – and he’s got my temper. Do you remember our fisticuff days at football, lads? We were sadistic fuckers once, weren’t we?’
‘Do you still go over West Ham, Jacko? I live in Southend now, but I’ve still got a season ticket. It ain’t like the old days no more, though. I hate all these middle-class pricks who have jumped on the football bandwagon. Ruining the game, they are,’ Potter complained.
‘I don’t get time to go week in week out any more, but a pal of mine has got a box over there, so I manage to get to about half a dozen games a season,’ Wayne replied.
Slurping champagne like it was going out of style, Cooksie slapped Wayne on the back. ‘I can’t believe you and Steph are still together after all these years. Does she still look the same? Is she still tall with dark hair?’
Danny MacKenzie spat his drink back into his glass and roared with laughter. ‘No, Steph’s shrunk, you dopey cunt. She’s only four foot tall now.’
‘You know what I mean? I meant, does she still look the same?’ Cooksie replied, getting slightly agitated.
Wayne put a comforting arm around his old pal’s shoulders. ‘Of course I know what you meant. Yep, my Steph is still slim and even more stunning than you would remember. She’s like a fine wine that’s matured superbly with age, and I can’t wait to marry the girl.’
‘Fuck me! Never thought I’d see the day when you turned into a nicely spoken romantic softie, Jacko,’ Potter said, chuckling.
Wayne smirked. ‘Don’t be fooled. I ain’t no mug, boys. Anyone pisses me off, they soon regret it afterwards. But when it comes to my Steph, I’m completely different. She’s my life and I love her dearly.’