felt her whole body seize up with fear. This had to be one of Wayne’s little jokes, surely? ‘You’re not serious, are you?’ she mumbled.
‘Course I’m serious! Why? What’s the problem?’
‘I don’t want to see Barry, Wayne, and I certainly don’t want him coming round our house. This is exactly why I didn’t want you to contact him in the first place. I knew it would stir up a hornet’s nest and I would somehow end up getting involved. You better uninvite him, sharpish.’
‘I’m not uninviting him. I’ve been pals with the bloke since I was four years old, so why should I? I dunno why you’re so bothered about him coming round. You only went out with him for a matter of weeks and it ain’t like nothing sexual happened between you, is it? Or have you been lying to me all these years?’ Wayne asked, accusingly.
‘You know I never had sex with Barry. How dare you ask me that when you know full well that the only man I’ve ever slept with in my life is you.’
‘Well, what you so worried about him coming round for then? Have you still got feelings for him? Is that it?’
‘Of course I haven’t still got feelings for him. You know I love you,’ Stephanie replied, bursting into tears.
Wayne held Stephanie in his arms again. ‘And I love you too. Look, let’s not argue over this, it’s ridiculous. Bazza’s an old pal and he’s popping round to see us, it’s no big deal. I tell you what, why don’t you invite Tammy round as well? Her bloke will probably be back by now and it’ll give you a chance to meet him before the wedding.’
‘Pa, Daddy, pa,’ Tyler said, holding his arms out to Wayne and dropping his towel.
Wayne let go of Stephanie and picked up his naked son. ‘If you wanna go to the park, Tyler, then Daddy shall take you there. You never know, the fresh air might even clear his hangover.’
Drying her eyes with a piece of toilet paper, Stephanie managed a smile. ‘I’d best ring Tammy then.’
Wayne grinned. He was far too cute for Stephanie and always knew the right things to say to ensure that he got his own way. ‘You just worry about sorting some grub out. It ain’t gotta be nothing fancy, lasagne and salad will do. I’ll ring Tammy. If I beg her and say I fucked up by inviting Bazza round when I was pissed, there’s far more chance of her coming. I’ll take the kids to the park for a couple of hours, get ’em out your way while you’re preparing the food.’
Feeling a bundle of nerves, but desperate not to show it, Stephanie smiled. ‘Thanks, Wayne, that’ll be great.’
Over in Soho, Angela Crouch was sitting in a café with her new best pal, Roxy. The girls had met through working in a local lap-dancing club and had since moved in together. It wasn’t exactly the luxury apartment that Angela had told her mother it was, but their two-bedroom flat was extremely trendy with lots of home comforts.
‘We don’t want no butter,’ Angela snapped at the waitress, as she put the one slice of toast and two mugs of coffee on the table.
Roxy tutted when the waitress took the disgusting-looking butter tray away. In her and Angela’s job, it was unusual for them to eat carbohydrates, let alone plaster them with something as evil as butter. Roxy cut the toast in the middle and handed half of it to Angela. ‘So, how did you do last night? I earned a hundred and fifty and you seemed far busier than me.’
‘I earned about twenty-five more than you, but it was bloody hard work. Fucking perverts most of my clients were, especially that fat, bald-headed old bastard that kept mauling me all night. He offered me five grand to sleep with him and I told him exactly where to poke it.’
Roxy laughed. Neither she nor Angela were slags. Some of the girls who worked at the club were, and would sleep with anything that had a pulse for five hundred quid plus, but Roxy and Angela were both very choosy. Their men had to be rich and good looking to even be considered for any extras. ‘I met a nice chap last night. His name was Mark, he owns a club in Islington and he was very handsome. I gave him my number and he said he’d call me this afternoon,’ Roxy said.
Angela smiled at her friend. With her long dark curly hair and perfect features, Roxy was an absolute stunner. Her mum originated from Mauritius and Roxy’s dark skin only added to her beauty. But, unlike Angela, Roxy was very un-streetwise and had a habit of believing every yarn any man told her. ‘Don’t get too involved this time until we’ve checked him out, eh?’
‘No, I won’t, but I’m sure he weren’t no Billy Bullshitter, Ange. He was dripping with money from his watch to his shoes. You can just tell the wealthy ones, can’t you?’
‘Yeah, you can, but don’t forget the last one you fell for, Rox. He told you he was single and had a chain of betting shops, then he turned out to be a married bus driver,’ Angela reminded her pal.
Roxy giggled. ‘I suppose I was a bit naive then, but it didn’t take long for the penny to drop, did it? So, what you up to today? You’re seeing Aidan, aren’t you?’
Angela sighed. She had promised to take her son to the pictures today, but the very thought of the boredom she would have to endure filled her with dread. ‘I’m gonna ring me mum up, tell her I’ve got a sore throat. I can’t be arsed schlepping all the way over to Essex, and the thought of spending two or three hours watching some crappy kids’ film don’t even bear thinking of after the amount we had to drink last night. Why don’t we go shopping instead? Let’s go up the King’s Road and check out that new boutique Pippa told us about.’
Roxy grimaced. She adored Angela as a friend, but thought she was an absolutely diabolical mother. When she was in her early twenties, Roxy had given birth to a stillborn baby and it had all but torn her heart to shreds. How Angie could treat Aidan with so little regard, Roxy would never know. ‘You can’t just blow your son out, Ange. He’s probably really looking forward to seeing you. Why don’t I come with you and we can both take him out? We haven’t got to go to the pictures, if you don’t want to. Why don’t we go to that Lakeside Shopping Centre. That’s in Essex, isn’t it?’
Angela felt herself blush. She had told Roxy that her mother was well-to-do and lived in a posh house in Chigwell, so how was she meant to explain the crappy council house in Dagenham?
‘Look, I know your mum don’t live in no posh gaff, and I know you were bought up in Dagenham as well, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’ve slipped up a couple of times when we’ve been drunk, but I knew before that anyway.’
Angela immediately relaxed. ‘How did you know?’
‘By the way you talk and by the way you act, Ange. You told me you went to a private school and I know people who went to private schools and they don’t talk like you, mate. I don’t know why you feel the need to lie. You’re such a nice person and it’s not as though me or any of the other girls are posh.’
‘I’m sorry, but you won’t tell the other girls, will you? My mum’s fat and common and Dagenham is such a dive. I’m just embarrassed by my upbringing, that’s all.’
Roxy squeezed Angela’s hand. ‘I won’t tell a soul, I promise, but you shouldn’t be embarrassed of your mumma no matter what she is or looks like. You should also try and see more of Aidan, Ange, ’cause if you don’t, some day you might just regret it.’
Feeling sorry for herself because the truth had been blatantly pointed out to her, Angela felt her lip begin to tremble.
‘Don’t get upset, mate. I’m only telling you all this for your own good. Now, dry your eyes and let’s go and pick that lovely little boy of yours up, shall we?’
Wiping her eyes with the cuff of her fake-fur jacket, Angela nodded.
Stephanie could feel her hands shaking as she tried to hold the wine bottle to pour herself a sneaky glass. She had cooked two big dishes of lasagne, but her mind had been so all over the place, she wasn’t even sure if she had added all the usual