he’s home? You never said nothing to me! And when did you arrange to meet up with him?’
‘I knew Bazza was back in England because Martin Gowing rang me up yesterday and told me. You know that Jake the Snake geezer that Bazza’s mother fucked off to Spain with?’
Stephanie nodded.
‘Well, Jake got murdered by a hit man a few weeks back and Bazza and his mum have flown home ’cause of the funeral and stuff. Martin has kept in touch with Bazza ever since he moved out to Spain, so he’s always kept me informed with how he’s doing out there.’
‘Who the hell’s Martin Gowing when he’s at home? And why the fuck didn’t you tell me all this before?’ Stephanie yelled. She had always hated secrets, especially ones like this.
‘Martin is mine and Bazza’s old pal from Bethnal Green. He kept in touch with Bazza when he moved out to Spain. I didn’t tell you that Bazza was back as I wanted to go and see him first. Once I’d seen him, providing he was OK about me and you, I was gonna tell you everything.’
‘So, when did you arrange to meet up with him?’ Steph yelled.
‘I haven’t arranged anything. I’m just gonna turn up at his sister’s gaff and offer him a handshake. He might turn round and chin me, Steph, after what happened, but I very much doubt it. Martin told me that Bazza’s recently got engaged to a stunning young bird over in Spain, so I doubt he’s that arsed about me and you being together now. Don’t forget, I saved Bazza’s life and stopped him from drowning when we were kids, so I’m sure he’ll be man enough to let bygones be bygones. Life’s too short to hold grudges, eh babe?’
‘I really don’t think you should go round there, Wayne. Why don’t you just let sleeping dogs lie, eh? Dragging up the past is never a good thing,’ Stephanie said, nervously. The thought of Wayne and Barry being pals again for some reason filled her with pure and utter dread.
‘I have to go and see him, Steph. When I nicked you off him I was just a boy, but I’m a man now and – whatever way you wanna look at it – I do owe Bazza an apology. This is why I never told you he was home. I knew you’d try and stop me from going to see him, but I have to smooth things over. Me and Bazza go back years and I’m sure once we have a man-to-man chat we can be pals once again. How did you know he was home, by the way? Did your mother tell ya?’
‘Yeah, my mum saw him pull up in a cab last night. You just do what you gotta do then, Wayne, but if it all goes Pete Tong, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Desperate not to upset Steph before the wedding, Wayne urged her to stand up and give him a hug. ‘Nothing’s gonna go wrong, babe, I promise you that much.’
Stephanie was no psychic, but her innermost self told her that no good would come out of Wayne and Barry meeting up again. Clinging to her fiancé, Steph laid her worried head on his shoulder. ‘I hope you’re right, Wayne, for all our sakes, I really do.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Pam and Cathy were in their element as they discussed the comings and goings across the road. Stephanie had rung up earlier and had told her mum to keep an eye out for Wayne. ‘If Barry lays one finger on him, Mum, just ring the police immediately,’ she’d insisted.
‘Ere’s the old slapper now. Quick Pam, she’s just pulled up in a cab,’ Cathy screamed, as Pam walked up the stairs to use the toilet.
Pam flew down the stairs like a bat out of hell.
‘She’s laughing and joking with the bleedin’ cab driver. She hardly looks like the grieving widow, does she?’ Cathy said.
Nodding in agreement, Pam put her nose to the window as she saw Marlene go inside the house, then reappear. ‘What’s she got in her arms?’
Cathy squinted. ‘Clothes, by the look of it. Dresses, I think, and she’s got two big carrier bags.’
Pam hovered until the waiting taxi pulled away with Marlene inside it, then made a dash from the room. ‘I’m busting. Keep watch for me, Cath, and I’ll be back in a tick.’
Wayne Jackman’s brain was working overtime as he drove towards Dagenham. His pal had just rung him to inform him that Barry Franklin was in the Church Elm pub, alone, and was awaiting his arrival. ‘What did you say to him, Mart? Did he sound calm or not?’
‘I just said that you were gonna shoot round and see him at his sister’s, and he said to tell you to meet him in the Elms. He sounded all right; he certainly didn’t have a cob on,’ Martin explained.
Stopping at a red traffic light, Wayne checked out his hair in the interior mirror. He’d got showered and changed at the gym, and even though he was only venturing to some shit-hole boozer in Dagenham, he had opted to wear his best clobber. Barry had always had style himself and Wayne certainly wasn’t going to mug himself off by turning up like a tramp. As the lights turned to green, Wayne continued his journey. He didn’t think he was nervous about meeting up with Barry again, so he put his palpitations down to excitement, although couldn’t help feeling that Barry’s choice of venue had been chosen just to make him feel awkward. Why else would Barry want to meet him in the Church Elm pub if it wasn’t to bring home to him his wrongdoings of the past?
Barry Franklin was sitting in the Church Elm pub at a table near the window. He had quite enjoyed sipping a couple of bottles of beer, while watching the traffic and shoppers go by. The Heathway had changed in the ten years since he had left Dagenham. There was a much bigger ethnic community and the shops now all looked tatty and extremely old fashioned. As Wayne Jackman bowled across the road, Barry spotted him immediately. With his suntan and designer clothes, he stood out like a sore thumb in Dagenham Heathway. Since moving to Spain, Barry had kept tracks on Wayne’s life. Wayne thought that Martin Gowing was his pal, but he wasn’t really. Gowing hated Wayne with a passion for stealing Steph off him, and he had only pretended to be friendly with Wayne as a favour to Barry. ‘I wanna know everything that cunt Jacko does, ’cause one day, when the time’s right, I’m gonna get me own back,’ Barry had explained to Gowing many moons ago.
Barry smirked as Wayne approached him with an outstretched right hand. He could sense that Wayne was dubious over the welcome he would receive. Ever the gentleman, Barry stood up to greet his old friend.
‘It’s been a fucking long time, ain’t it, Bazza?’ Wayne said, with more than a hint of anxiety in his voice.
Staring at Wayne’s slighty quivering right hand, Barry smirked, then shook it. ‘It’s been far too long.’
Stephanie was a bag of nerves when she set off to pick Dannielle up from an after-school birthday party. Waiting for the phone to ring when something important was at stake was the worst feeling in the world, and she had spent half the day staring at the plastic object.
‘Swee, Ma, swee,’ Tyler said, poking his mother in the arm.
Steph was more than used to her son’s unconventional language and managed to understand his every want or need quite clearly. ‘We’ll stop for some sweeties in a bit, darling. But first we must pick Dannielle up from her party, else we’ll be late, OK?’
Tyler grinned in approval. Even at his tender age, he knew that if his mum made a promise, she would deliver. His father was a different kettle of fish entirely.
‘Pass Mummy her phone,’ Stephanie asked, pointing to the object that was ringing on top of her handbag in the footwell. Tyler always sat in the front of the car with her, because he would kick off if she forced him to sit in the back.
As her son bent down and handed her a hairbrush, Stephanie wanted to scream with frustration, but chose not to. ‘No, the phone Tyler, the phone,’ she said, as calmly as she possibly could.
When Tyler looked at her blankly, Stephanie bumped the car onto the kerb and picked up the phone herself. She punched in her mother’s number. ‘Did you just ring me, Mum?’
‘Yes.