‘Hello, man,’ Donte mumbled, too engrossed with his car to look up.
Jason chuckled, crouched and held out his right hand. ‘Hello, Donte. I’m Jason. What ya got there, mate?’
Slightly peeved that Jason was paying far more attention to Donte than her, Tracey held her stomach in, pushed her boobs out and tapped him on the back. ‘My mate needs a new pair of shoes, but she’s not sure what style she wants. Something with a heel and glamorous, like mine,’ she said, waving her left foot under his nose.
Jason stood up and smiled. ‘Your wish is my command. You’re welcome to try on anything you want. Just gonna serve those other customers and I’ll be back. What size are you, darlin’?’
‘Five.’
‘Give me a minute, then I’ll sort out a selection that I think will suit a pretty girl like yourself.’
Melissa blushed. She wasn’t by any means ugly, but rarely got called pretty, especially when she was out with Tracey. Unlike her skinny blonde friend, she had shoulder-length brown hair, a size-twelve figure and lacked a decent wardrobe since Donte had been born. Tracey knocked spots off her.
‘Pick some shoes out then,’ Tracey smirked. She wasn’t one bit bothered about Jason calling Melissa pretty. It was obvious he was only being kind.
‘I haven’t got much money on me,’ Melissa hissed in her pal’s ear. ‘Can’t you try some on and buy a pair? He’ll get the hump with us otherwise, think we’re messers,’ she warned.
‘OK. But find out where he lives and drinks.’
‘Why me? You’re the one who fancies him – you ask him. He’s gonna think I’m after him otherwise,’ Melissa complained.
‘No, he won’t. Not being funny, Mel, but he’s a bit out of your league.’
Carol Brooks had tried to keep herself busy since finding out her fate. A year the doctor had given her, top whack, and instead of wallowing in self-pity, Carol was determined to cherish every moment.
‘I’m home, love. You upstairs?’ Johnny shouted out.
‘Yes. I’ll be down in a minute. I’m just sorting through some old photos,’ Carol replied, flicking through their wedding album. She was forty-six now, plump with short auburn hair. She’d looked so different on her wedding day; back then, twenty-seven years ago, she’d been blonde and slim. She’d never forget Johnny’s words as her father walked her down the aisle: ‘Jesus Christ, Carol. You’ve taken my breath away. What you doing marrying an ugly bugger like me? You look like Lulu, my girl.’
About to remind Johnny of his words, a piercing pain shot through the side of Carol’s head and she screamed out in agony.
‘Carol! What’s a matter?’ Johnny yelled, racing up the stairs.
When there was no answer, Johnny pushed open the bedroom door and had never felt so guilty in his life. His beloved wife was lying on the floor, convulsing. Next to her was their wedding album.
Tracey giggled like a silly schoolgirl every time Jason said anything remotely funny. ‘You’re hilarious,’ she gushed, touching the arm of his tan leather jacket.
‘Mummy – doggy, doggy,’ Donte said loudly, pointing at the toy stall opposite. The stallholder was showing some customers a toy dog that walked and barked.
Jason crouched in front of the pushchair. ‘OK to get him out?’ he asked Melissa. She’d tried on shoe after shoe and Jason was no fool. He knew her mate was after him and had roped Melissa in to help her out.
‘Yeah, sure,’ Melissa replied. Watching Jason wander over to the toy stall with Donte in his arms, she turned to Tracey. ‘Time you tried some shoes on – I’m not trying on any more, specially since I can’t afford to buy a pair. Did you find out where he lives?’
‘No. But he’s only twenty and drinks at some pub called the Brewery Tap in Barking on Friday nights. He said they have live music in there. We should go down there next week. Can you ask your mum to babysit?’
Jason returned with Donte holding the toy dog before Melissa had a chance to reply. ‘Put that back, Donte. It doesn’t belong to you,’ Melissa ordered.
‘It does now. My treat.’ Jason winked.
‘Oh no. I can’t let you pay for that. Here, I’ll give you the money,’ Melissa replied, fishing frantically through her handbag for her purse. She hoped she had enough cash on her to cover the cost.
‘No, you won’t. Listen, Trev on the toy stall owes me plenty of favours, trust me,’ Jason insisted.
‘Erm, can I try on these black boots in a size four, please?’ Tracey asked, pointing to a high-heeled suede ankle boot. She couldn’t understand Jason’s obsession with Donte. It was odd, to say the least. ‘Don’t move, Mel. I need to hold on to you,’ Tracey ordered, lifting up her left leg to undo the strap on her sandal.
Aware of Jason’s blue eyes staring at her, Melissa blushed again.
‘I’ve got a little ’un myself. A four-year-old daughter,’ Jason blurted out.
To say Tracey was shocked by this piece of news was an understatement. She promptly lost her balance, toppling over sideways.
‘You all right, mate?’ Melissa asked, voice full of concern. Part of her wanted to laugh, but she knew how mortified Tracey must be, so held her emotions in check.
Feeling a complete idiot, Tracey quickly put her sandal back on and grabbed Mel’s arm. ‘Come on. Let’s go.’
‘Don’t you wanna try the boots on now?’ Jason smirked. Trev on the toy stall was pissing himself laughing and he was desperately trying not to do the same himself.
‘No. I’ll try them another time,’ Tracey snapped, hobbling off. She’d felt her ankle twist as she’d fallen and it was already throbbing.
‘Thanks again for the toy,’ Melissa said, walking away.
‘Come on, Mel,’ Tracey urged, red-faced. The quicker she got away from this market, the better.
‘Mel, you forgot something,’ Jason shouted after them.
Leaving Donte’s pushchair with Tracey, Melissa ran back to the stall. Jason handed her a piece of paper. ‘That’s my phone number. If you fancy a drink sometime, give us a bell.’
Melissa opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak. No words would come out.
‘Mel, come on,’ Tracey shouted angrily.
Melissa took one last look at Jason, then ran to catch up with her pal.
‘What did he want?’ Tracey demanded.
‘Nothing.’
‘Don’t lie to me. I saw him hand you something. Did he give you his number for me?’
‘No, Trace. Look, I’m sorry, but he gave me his number for me.’
Tracey stared at her friend as though she had gone stark raving mad. This wasn’t going to plan at all. ‘What did he actually say when he gave it to you? You sure he never meant it for me?’
Melissa felt flushed. ‘He said if I fancied going for a drink, I was to call him.’
Tracey was in shock. ‘You’re not going, are you?’
Mel shook her head. ‘Course not. You like him.’
The short journey back to South Hornchurch was awkward, to say the least. Tracey was in no mood for small talk. She was fucking fuming.
The lifts stank of urine, were covered in graffiti