Barry pulled up in the car park at the Harrow pub in Hornchurch. He had got sick of living in a hotel and driving a hired car, so had recently taken out a three-month lease on a flat in Emerson Park, and bought himself a cheap motor. He couldn’t wait to get back to Spain now, and as soon as his mission was complete, he would be off like a shot. Picturing his stunning girlfriend, Barry dialled her number. ‘Hello sweetheart. How are you today?’
Stephanie let herself indoors, collapsed on the sofa and sobbed. Could her life get any worse at the moment? Somehow, she didn’t think so. Desperately needing someone to talk to, Steph debated whether to ring her mother, but quickly decided against it. Her mum had enough on her plate looking after Aidan and it wasn’t fair to keep worrying her. Realizing that she now only had one true friend in the world who would understand the way she felt, Steph picked up the phone and rang him.
‘Can you come round, Barry?’ she wept.
‘What’s up? Is it Jacko? Have they found him?’
‘No. I’ve fallen out with Tammy and I really feel like getting drunk and having a good old chinwag. You ain’t gotta go home. You can stop here the night in the spare room. Please say you will, Bal.’
Barry smirked. ‘I’m on me way.’
Over at Dagenham East Police Station, Marlene and Marge were in opposite cells to one another. When the police had been called to the restaurant, both women had tried to do a runner. Marge was so fat, though, she’d barely been able to waddle, let alone run, and Marlene hadn’t wanted her pal to take all the blame for something that was her fault.
‘You all right, Patsy?’ Marge shouted out. She and Marlene still hadn’t given the police their real names. Because they were inebriated, they had thought it quite hilarious to give the police the names of the characters out of their favourite TV programme, Absolutely Fabulous. Marlene had told the Old Bill that she was Patsy, while Marge had called herself Eddy. The police hadn’t got the joke and had thought Marlene and Marge were actually giving their real identities. In the end, short-staffed and unable to trace any address for the two women, officers slung Marge and Marlene into the cells to sober up.
‘Yep, I’m fine, Eddy. Don’t fancy spending all night in here though, do you?’ Marlene replied.
‘Why don’t you ask if you can ring your Barry, mate? They offered us a phone call, didn’t they? He can send a solicitor down ’ere for us, so we can go home. I’m dying for a crap and I can’t shit in ’ere, can I?’ Marge shouted out.
At the mention of her son, Marlene’s face twisted with anger. She was disgusted that he’d run off tonight and allowed her and Marge to be arrested. ‘I ain’t asking that little bastard for any help tonight, but I tell you what I am gonna do for us, mate.’
‘What?’
‘I’m gonna blackmail him so we can go on a nice holiday. I’m gonna tell him if he don’t give me five grand, I’m gonna tell the Spanish authorities what he did to Jake the Snake.’
‘You can’t do that, mate. Your Barry ain’t a bad lad. I’m sure you’ve got it all wrong,’ Marge replied, horrified.
‘I can do what I fucking well like. But he ain’t bad, you got that bit right – my Barry’s pure evil. The boy’s a mass murderer.’
‘Don’t be so bleedin’ stupid,’ Marge said.
‘And who’s this mass murderer we’re talking about?’ a young PC asked cockily as he approached Marlene’s cell.
Marlene snarled at the fresh-faced PC. ‘Mind your own fucking business, you spotty-faced little cunt.’
Over in Chigwell, Stephanie had just greeted Barry with open arms.
‘It’s OK, babe. You let it all out. How you’ve been so brave recently I’ll never know,’ Barry said, hugging Stephanie and stroking her hair. Even though Steph had relied on him over the past month or so, she had never been touchy-feely with him up until now, and he guessed he was finally winning her over, just like he’d hoped he would. ‘You said you wanted to get drunk, so look what I bought us,’ Barry said, gesturing to the two big carrier bags he’d put down by the door.
Stephanie peered inside the two bags. One contained a big bottle of Strongbow Cider. The other, four cans of Holsten Pils and twenty Benson and Hedges. ‘Talk about memories of our youth. I haven’t drunk cider for years, nor do I really smoke any more,’ Steph said.
‘I don’t drink Holsten any more and I only ever smoke socially now, but what the heck? I bought a couple of Eighties tapes with me as well. I thought a night reliving our youth and doing the stuff we used to might cheer you up a bit.’
Stephanie couldn’t help but grin. ‘You are so thoughtful, Barry.’
‘Yep, I know I am. Now, tell me about Tam while I pour us both a drink. Do you wanna slurp the cider out the bottle like you used to? Or, you gonna use a glass like the lady you are now?’
Stephanie opted for a glass, then sat down next to Barry on the sofa.
Barry listened intently as Stephanie explained what had happened with Tammy earlier. His ears pricked up when Steph told him that Tammy had been insistent for the past few weeks that it was he who was responsible for Wayne’s disappearance, but he said nothing until Steph had finished telling her story in full. ‘I’m really shocked Tammy seems to have it in for me so much. I always got on all right with her while I was going out with you. It was Jacko, Potter and Cooksie who took the piss out of her being ginger and stuff, not me. She’s bang out of order blaming me for Jacko going missing. I didn’t even leave the club with him, you know that, so do the Old Bill.’
‘I know you didn’t, but Tam has this stupid theory that you somehow bumped into him on the way back to the hotel, topped him, then buried him in a nearby forest. I know it’s mental, but Tammy’s always had a vivid imagination. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Bal, as when I told her that Angie was going to live in Greece, she said that she was running off to live with Wayne as well. Tam’s changed so bloody much since she met that Richard, I’m glad she’s emigrating now. Good riddance is what I say.’
Putting a casual arm around Stephanie’s shoulders, Barry kissed his ex-girlfriend on the top of the head. ‘Fuck Tammy and her ponce of a boyfriend. Chin up, you’ve still got me, babe. I’ll be your new best friend.’
Stephanie stared into Barry’s soft brown doleful eyes and, for the first time since she had got with Wayne, she saw what she had seen all those years ago. A handsome, kind, honest person, who would one day make a wonderful husband and father to some lucky girl.
Aware of the nostalgic way that Stephanie was looking at him, Barry debated whether to go in for the kill, but quickly decided against it. He knew Steph was warming to him, but she hadn’t completely fallen hook, line and sinker for him yet and he didn’t want to jeopardize the outcome of his plan. He stood up. ‘Right, I’ll put on the Eighties music while you pour us some more drinks. Tonight, Miss Crouch, you will forget all your troubles, because me and you are gonna party, girl.’
And party Stephanie and Barry most certainly did. Over the next few hours, they sang along to all the songs that reminded them of their teenage years, drank two bottles of Wayne’s expensive champagne after they had polished off the cider and lager, reminisced about old times and even got up and danced to a Duran Duran record for a giggle.
Stephanie knew that she was very drunk, but for the first time in weeks the smile on her face was genuine. Tomorrow, she would probably wake up and have the weight of the world on her shoulders once again, but tonight she was having a blast and that was all down to Barry Franklin. In her heart of hearts, Steph was sure that Wayne wasn’t ever coming back home again. What had happened to him would play on her mind forever, but one day she would have to move on with her life, whether she learned the truth or not. When Barry began singing along to ‘The Love Cats’ by The Cure, Stephanie laid her head on his shoulder. It had been years since she and Wayne had spent a night