Pam had barely left her daughter’s side. Pam’s boss at the baker’s had told her to take as much time off as she needed, and Pam was extremely grateful to him, as Stephanie’s frail state of mind certainly wasn’t up to coping with two young children on her own.
On the morning of what was meant to be her daughter’s wedding day, Pam got up at the crack of dawn and had a nice, relaxing soak in the bath. She was dreading the day ahead. Over the past couple of days she’d had the awful task of ringing around all the guests to tell them that the wedding had been cancelled. Cathy and Linda had both been brilliant and were coming around again later to support Stephanie on such a traumatic day.
Barry Franklin had also been a tower of strength and had popped in regularly to try and keep Steph’s spirits up. The more Pam saw of Barry, the more she liked the lad. He was charming, funny, very thoughtful, and had even taken the kids over to the park yesterday so she could rest her tired legs. Immersing her body into the hot, soapy water, Pam thought about Wayne and sighed. She had always got along with her daughter’s partner, but in her heart of hearts, she had never really liked him that much. In Pam’s eyes, Wayne’s qualities as a father left a lot to be desired, and she also found the man to be rather cold. Wondering what on earth had happened to him, Pam leant her head against the edge of the bath and shut her eyes. She was pleased that the police were coming around again this morning to update her and Stephanie on their enquiries, and she imagined they were bound to ask more questions. Wayne’s disappearance was the most baffling thing that Pam had ever encountered; but one thing she did know: if Wayne was ever found safe and well, there was a good chance she would end up murdering him herself.
Stephanie opened her wardrobe door and took out the wedding dress. The alterations lady had bought it back on Thursday and Steph hadn’t even looked at it yet. She knew she was torturing herself by trying it on, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing so. She had paid the woman another fifty pounds, so had every right to check that the sleeves now fitted as they should.
‘Is Daddy coming home, Mummy? Can I wear my bridesmaid dress now?’ Dannielle asked excitedly.
Through lack of sleep, Stephanie felt as though she were in a trance as she stared at her daughter. Tyler was too young to even miss Wayne. He didn’t have a clue what was going on. Dannielle, on the other hand, had been tearful, off her food, and acting very clingy.
Not wanting her daughter to be affected any more than she already had been, Stephanie decided to end the saga once and for all. Steph had made a pact to herself that if Wayne wasn’t home for their wedding day, she would snap out of her trauma for the sake of her children, and that’s exactly what she intended to do. She snarled as she ripped off her wedding dress and then grabbed the pair of scissors she kept in her bedside drawer.
‘No Mummy. No,’ Dannielle screamed, as Stephanie hacked at the beautiful dress with the scissors, like a woman possessed.
‘Daddy isn’t coming home, Dannielle. It’s just me, you and Tyler from now on, OK?’ Steph screamed.
‘What are you doing, love?’ Pam asked, horrified, as she opened Steph’s bedroom door.
‘Well, I’m hardly going to be needing it now, am I?’ Stephanie yelled, before bursting into tears.
Dannielle was petrified. ‘I want my daddy,’ she cried, clinging to Pam’s midriff.
Pam had tears in her own eyes as she urged Stephanie to move away from the dress.
Steph couldn’t. Instead, she lay face down on top of it. ‘I miss Wayne so much, Mum. Where is he?’ she sobbed.
Pam sat on the bed and held Stephanie tightly to her chest. Her daughter was so vulnerable at the moment, it reminded Pam of when she was a little girl all over again. ‘The police will find out what’s happened to him, love. They are so clever these days, so dry them eyes and get yourself ready for their visit. They might even have some news for you.’
‘If I ask you something, Mum, will you tell me the truth?’
‘Of course I will,’ Pam said, moving a strand of her daughter’s hair away from her wet eyes.
‘Do you think Wayne’s dead?’
It was an impossible question to answer, so Pam had no choice other than to sit on the fence. ‘I don’t know, sweetheart, I really don’t know.’
Barry Franklin was seated at a table in the Bishop Bonner pub in Bethnal Green. His father, Smasher, had only recently come out of prison, and Barry was enjoying listening to him and his old cronies reminiscing about the good old days.
‘It’s proper changed in this boozer. Do you remember when we used to get all the old boxers in ’ere? I bet Henry Cooper wouldn’t set foot in the shithole now,’ Smasher said, gloomily. The pub had really altered since he had gone inside and he didn’t like the atmosphere of it now one little bit.
‘It ain’t been the same since Freddie and Rita had it, if you ask me. Those were the good old days – when we used to have Chas and Dave down here on a Thursday night and everybody got up and sang. Do you remember the old boy who had the fish stall down the Roman? He used to bring the house down, and you certainly don’t get characters like him in here any more,’ Smasher’s pal, Charlie, told Barry.
Barry raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t had a beer with his father for Christ knows how long and had been expecting a jovial piss-up, not a melancholy look back in time. ‘Yeah, I do remember Chas and Dave singing in ’ere when I was a kid, but now they’re famous I doubt they’d wanna be slumming it round ’ere again. Times have changed, lads, and we have to move with ’em, unfortunately.’
‘Gonna have a little chat with me, boy. We need a bit of a one-to-one,’ Smasher said to Barry.
Barry followed his father outside. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing, lad, unless you wanna include your whore of a mother spreading rumours. She’s been going around telling people that you killed Jake the Snake.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. She sprang that one on me in the motor on the way home from the brief’s office. I thought she was just talking drunken bollocks, I didn’t actually think she would start telling people. Who did she tell? Do you know?’
‘It’s Fat Carol who’s been mouthing it off round ’ere. I went and knocked on her door yesterday and, apparently, Lairy Mary, who now lives in Dagenham, had told her. I’ve warned Fat Carol that she better keep her gob shut else she’ll have me to deal with. You didn’t have anything at all to do with the old boy’s death, did you, Bal?’
‘What do you take me for, Dad? I’ve told you many a time that I quite liked the geezer, so course I never. Anyway, I’ve got bigger fish to fry than poor old Jake, ain’t I?’
Smasher smirked. He was well aware of Barry’s quest for revenge against the two people who had betrayed him in the worst way possible. ‘Has Jacko been found yet?’
‘No sign of him,’ Barry replied, grinning.
‘And how’s it going with the bird?’ Smasher asked, referring to Steph.
‘Sweet! I’ve got her and the mother eating out the palm of me hand and it won’t be long before I strike. What goes around comes around, eh, Dad?’
Smasher laughed. ‘That’s my boy.’
Stephanie felt her heart pounding nineteen to the dozen as the two coppers sat down on the sofa opposite her. They seemed much more important than the two who had visited her the other day. These were plain clothed and had an air of power about them. One of them introduced himself as DI Jobson and told Steph that his colleague was DC Moore, then Jobson spoke directly to her.
‘I’m afraid we have had little success in tracing Mr Jackman’s movements after he left the club that he was drinking in. One of the doormen gave us a statement saying that he saw Mr Jackman leave and cross the road, but from there the trail goes cold. We do have some other news for you, though. We have conducted a thorough search of Mr Jackman’s