Kitabı oku: «The Schemer», sayfa 3

CHAPTER THREE

Angela Crouch was unsure if she felt excited or petrified as she stuffed some clothes and make-up into her schoolbag. Dagenham Priory had only just introduced a uniform policy for the younger pupils, and while Steph was still allowed to attend school in her own clothes, Angela unfortunately wasn’t.

‘What am I gonna do if Jacko looks in my bag and sees my uniform, Steph?’ she asked, with panic in her voice.

‘Don’t put your bag down. You’ve no need to if you’re walking round Romford, have you?’ Stephanie replied, suspiciously. She had a gut feeling her sister was lying about where she and Wayne were supposedly going to.

‘Please walk to the Heathway with me, Steph. I’ll quickly get changed in the bogs, then you can take my bag to school with you.’

‘I ain’t lugging your poxy bag about with me all day. It’s bad enough I’ve gotta forge you a note from Mum,’ Stephanie said, angrily.

Angela had a habit of being nice to her sister when she wanted a favour in return. ‘Please Steph, I beg you. I’d do it for you. What about that time I stole that lipstick out of Boots for you because you were too frightened to nick it yourself? I’d do anything for you, you know I would.’

Staring at the look of innocence in her younger sister’s eyes, Stephanie smiled at her. ‘All right, I’ll take the poxy bag, but get your arse in gear ’cause I don’t wanna be late for school. Your lies will get you into big trouble one day, Ange, you mark my words.’

Wayne Jackman shuddered as he got into the tide-marked, stained bath. His nan had obviously forgotten to put the immersion heater on again and the water felt like ice.

Wayne had been brought up in Bonner Street, Bethnal Green. He was the only son of his parents, Jill and Lenny, and had two younger sisters, Lucy and Samantha. Wayne’s childhood was anything but perfect. His dad was always in and out of prison, and money was scarce, but he’d been happy in his own little way. One day in 1978, life had changed dramatically for Wayne when he’d arrived home one evening to find his house cordoned off. His dad had recently been released from Pentonville after serving a three-year sentence for GBH and, seeing as how the police had raided his house in the past, Wayne’s first thought was that his dad had done something bad again.

‘I live here. Let me see my mum,’ Wayne had screamed on the evening in question, trying to barge his way through the crowd of coppers.

It had been Jean, his next-door neighbour who had tearfully broken the news to him. His mother had been stabbed to death by his own father. Months later, Wayne learned the reason behind his father’s actions: his mother had been having an affair while he’d been in prison, and had got pregnant by the man he knew as Uncle Darren.

After spending a month in care, Wayne was sent to live with his dad’s parents, Doris and Bill. His sisters had already been given a home in Leicester by his mum’s sister, Kim, but she already had a son and didn’t want him. At first, Wayne had missed his sisters immensely, but over the years he’d taken his grandparents’ advice and all but forgotten about them. He had written to them twice, but they had never replied, and if they couldn’t be bothered with him, why should he worry about them?

‘Evil little whores. They’ll turn out just like their mother,’ his nan had convinced him.

Wayne was fairly happy living with his grandparents. They adored the ground he walked on, gave him plenty of money and a free rein to do whatever he wanted. The house was a total shithole and his nan and grandad were heavy drinkers, but neither of these things particularly bothered Wayne. As long as he was clean and wore nice clothes, how they lived their lives was none of his business.

‘All right, boy? Whaddya want for breakfast?’ Doris asked her grandson as he sauntered down the stairs.

‘Just toast. I’ve gotta go and meet me bird. You’re still going out, ain’t ya?’

Rolling an Old Holborn cigarette, Bill chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, me and your grandmother won’t stop you from sowing your wild oats, will we, Doll?’

‘You just make sure you don’t fall head over heels for her, Wayne. You don’t want to end up in the same situation as your father, do you now?’ Doris warned her grandson.

Not for one minute did Doris or Bill even think that their beloved son was in the wrong for stabbing his wife twenty-six times with a bread knife. In their eyes, the slag he’d married deserved her grizzly ending for betraying their Lenny in the way that she had.

‘Roll us a snout, Grandad, I ain’t got none till I go out.’

Doris handed her grandson two pieces of burnt toast, then fished through her purse for some money. Neither she nor Bill had worked for years, but they had all their Lenny’s money hidden under the floorboards upstairs and he had told them to help themselves to it. What with their pensions and their regular wins on the horses, Doris and Bill lived their lives to the full.

‘Get her a bit drunk, have your wicked way, then fucking well dump her,’ Doris cackled, as she put a five-pound note in the palm of her grandson’s hand.

Wayne chuckled, stood up and grabbed his jacket. He’d always found it funny that his nan had tits and a fanny herself yet harboured a hatred towards other women. Apart from her mate, Big Brenda, who she drank with in the Millhouse, all of his nan’s friends were male.

‘And don’t forget to use a dunky. You don’t wanna get the little tart up the spout,’ Bill yelled, as Wayne opened the front door.

‘I won’t forget,’ Wayne shouted back. Then, with a grin of expectation on his face, he headed off to meet Angie.

Due to her vain younger sister taking forever to do her make-up in the public toilets at the Heathway, Stephanie Crouch was ten minutes late for school. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss,’ she said, as she barged breathless into the classroom.

‘Is that him?’ Tammy whispered in Steph’s ear, as she sat down at her desk.

‘Is what who?’ Steph replied, perplexed.

When Tammy pointed to the right-hand side of the classroom, Steph looked around and felt her heart start to beat nineteen to the dozen. It was Barry Franklin and he was grinning at her.

‘Well?’ Tammy asked, excitedly.

‘Shut up,’ Stephanie hissed.

Aware that Steph’s face had turned a bright shade of red, Tammy smirked knowingly.

‘Now we are all here, I would like to introduce you to our new classmate. Would you like to come to the front?’ Miss Pratt said, gesticulating to Barry.

‘I’m quite capable of introducing meself, if that’s OK?’ Barry said, as he strolled to the front of the classroom, full of confidence.

As he caught her eye and winked at her, Stephanie immediately looked away. Barry Franklin seemed to be having a worse effect on her than Wayne Jackman had and she would not allow herself to be humiliated again. Not now, not ever.

Angela Crouch was a bag of nerves as she sat gingerly on the edge of Wayne Jackman’s bed. Wayne looked absolutely gorgeous today. He was wearing a pure white Sergio Tacchini tracksuit which seemed to make his blonde wedge haircut and piercing blue eyes stand out even more than usual.

‘Cider? Lager? Or Scotch?’ Wayne asked his girlfriend.

Unlike her sister, who drank regularly at weekends, Angela had barely ever touched the stuff but, not wanting to act like a kid, she opted for Scotch.

‘Are you OK?’ Wayne asked, as she took a sip and promptly started to choke. ‘Yeah, I’m cool. Went down the wrong hole,’ Angela gasped.

‘You sure you don’t want lager or cider instead?’

‘No, I always drink Scotch,’ Angela lied, taking another sip.

‘What do you wanna listen to? How about the Fatback Band?’ Wayne suggested.

‘Yeah, I love that,’ Angela lied. She actually had no idea who the Fatback Band were. She was more into Kajagoogoo and Culture Club herself.

Singing the words to ‘I Found Loving’, Wayne sat down next to Angela and pushed her into a backwards position on the bed. ‘You make me feel really horny, do you know that?’ he panted, as he fondled her breasts.

Still feeling extremely edgy, Angela pushed him off her and sat up. ‘Can we have some more drink and play some music before we get off with one another? We’ve got all day, ain’t we?’ she asked, fearfully.

Sensing her anxiety, but also sensing that there was a good chance he was going to get his end away later, Wayne sat up and smiled at Angela. ‘Your wish is my command, babe.’

At lunchtimes, Stephanie and Tammy had a regular routine. Firstly, they would walk to the little tuck shop which was a spit’s throw from the school. The nice man in there would sell cigarettes singly to the schoolchildren for ten pence each and Steph and Tammy took full advantage of his kindness. From there, the girls would walk round to Broad Street where there was a parade of shops and a small indoor market. The girls’ lunch usually consisted of a bag of chips from the local chippy, but occasionally, if they were feeling flush, they would buy a burger in the café and sit in there and eat it.

‘Look, Barry Franklin’s standing outside the chippy on his own. Let’s go and talk to him, shall we? It must be horrible starting a new school when you don’t know anyone, and he said when he introduced himself that he came from Bethnal Green,’ Tammy said.

Lighting up the Player’s Number One that she’d just purchased in the tuck shop, Stephanie felt hot and flustered but did her utmost to look and sound cool. ‘Just walk past him. I can’t be arsed talking to boys no more.’

‘You like him. I can tell,’ Tammy said, teasingly.

‘No I fucking don’t! Now shut up, and if you say anything to him, I’ll never forgive you,’ Steph replied, angrily.

‘All right, ladies. Mind if I tag along with you? I don’t really know anyone yet and I feel a right plonker standing ’ere on me own,’ Barry asked, staring at Steph.

Unable to hold his gaze, Stephanie looked down at her feet. ‘We’ve gotta go somewhere, ain’t we, Tam?’ she mumbled.

Tammy ignored her friend’s awkwardness and smiled at Barry. Unlike Wayne Jackman, Barry seemed like a decent lad and there was no way she was going to leave him standing outside the chip shop on his own. ‘We’re only going to the café in Broad Street market. You can come with us if you like.’

Barry grinned. ‘Cheers, girls, and to repay you for your kindness, lunch is on me.’

Over in Digby Gardens, Angela’s earlier nerves had now disappeared and she felt both woozy and extremely confident. ‘Can I have another Scotch?’ she asked Wayne. At first, Angie had found the drink tasted horrendous, but after a couple of glasses, she’d sort of got used to the taste and she enjoyed the floating feeling that came with drinking it.

‘Gissa kiss now, babe,’ Wayne urged, as he handed Angela her drink.

Giggling, Angie pushed him away. She knocked her drink back in one gulp, then stood up. ‘If you let me choose some music, then you can have more than a kiss,’ she said, seductively.

Wayne grinned broadly. ‘Tell me what records you want on, and if I’ve got ’em, I’ll play ’em for you.’

‘You got any Kajagoogoo or Culture Club?’ Angie asked.

Wayne burst out laughing. ‘No I ain’t! That’s little kids’ music.’

Feeling her face redden as she remembered her own age, Angela thought of the bands her elder sister liked. ‘What about Duran Duran or Soft Cell?’ she asked, composing herself once more.

‘I’ve got Soft Cell. “Tainted Love” is one of my favourite songs ever. What’s yours?’ Wayne asked.

‘“Tainted Love” is my favourite song an’ all,’ Angela replied. Steph used to play it all the time in their room and it had sort of grown on Angie over the past year or so.

Wayne put the seven-inch single onto his record player and set the arm so it would automatically repeat itself.

‘I love you Jacko,’ Angela said childishly, as Wayne positioned his body on top of hers.

‘Take your top and knickers off,’ Wayne ordered, his voice husky with lust.

‘You’re fucking beautiful, babe,’ he whispered truthfully, when Angela stood completely naked in front of him. Her breasts weren’t as big as some of the girls he’d slept with, but other than that, she was perfect.

Angela stared at Wayne as he took off his tracksuit top. His torso was fit and firm and he had one of them six-packs like she’d seen on some of the pop stars whose images were pinned up on her bedroom wall. When he took off his bottoms and put a rubber thing on his penis, Angela felt her nerves momentarily return. She had never seen a willy in real life before, and Wayne’s was not only bigger than she had expected, but it was also sticking up in the air like a flagpole.

‘I want you so much,’ Wayne mumbled, as he pushed her back onto the bed and got on top of her.

‘You’re hurting me,’ Angela cried, as Wayne tried to ram his penis inside her.

‘Ain’t you done this before?’ Wayne asked, surprised.

‘Tell me if you’ve done it before and then I’ll tell you if I have,’ Angie replied, showing her true age once more.

‘Yeah, I’ve done it loads of times,’ Wayne bragged.

‘And me,’ Angela lied.

Now he knew she wasn’t a virgin, Wayne roughly thrust himself inside her.

Angela bit her lip to stop herself from screaming out in pain. A minute or so later, Wayne let out a funny groan and rolled onto his back. ‘That was fucking amazing! Did you enjoy it, babe?’ he asked, with a big smile on his face.

Angela nodded and tried to block the awful experience from her mind by concentrating on Marc Almond’s voice. Angela had expected having sex for the first time would be pleasurable and romantic, but Wayne hadn’t even kissed her during it. All he had done was get on top of her and then hurt her by shoving his big thingy up her.

‘Do you want to do it again?’ Wayne asked, putting a comforting arm around Angela. He had just noticed the blood on the end of his penis, so now guessed she had lied and it was her first time.

‘Not yet. Let’s have another drink first and listen to the music for a bit,’ Angie replied, miserably.

As a happy Wayne leapt off the bed to pour the drinks, he sang at the top of his voice to the chorus of the song.

Wanting to cry, Angela shut her eyes. If what she had just experienced was meant to be love, then the words in the song must be right: it was bloody tainted.

Tammy Andrews lived in the opposite direction to Stephanie, so they arranged to meet that evening and said goodbye outside the school gates. Carrying her own schoolbag on one shoulder and her sister’s bag on the other, Steph set off to meet Angie outside the public toilets at the bottom of the Heathway Hill.

‘’Ere, let me carry your bags for you. I’m walking your way,’ Barry said, as he caught up with Steph.

‘Nah, it’s all right. I ain’t going straight home. Gotta meet my sister at the Heathway. One of these bags belongs to her.’

‘Well I’ll walk to the Heathway with you then. Give us that bigger bag ’ere, I can see you’re struggling.’

‘Thanks,’ Steph said, as she handed him her sister’s sports bag. Barry had been such a gentleman in the café earlier. He had insisted on paying for her and Tammy’s cheeseburger and chips, and had even bought them a packet of ten Benson to share. When Steph had first laid eyes on Barry, she had known he reminded her of someone famous, and while sitting in the café it came to her who it was. She had recently seen the film The Outsiders and Barry Franklin was the spitting image of the boy she’d fancied in that. Tammy had told her when they’d left the café that the actor in the film who looked like Barry was called Matt Dillon.

‘So how old’s your sister then? And why you got her bag?’ Barry asked, breaking the silence.

‘Angie’s thirteen and I’ve got her bag ’cause the little cow bunked off school today. Does my head in, she does, but I do love her. You won’t tell your mum she bunked off, will you? If mine finds out, she’ll kill her.’

Barry chuckled. ‘I might be a lot of things but I ain’t a grass, girl. Where I come from, grasses get shot.’

‘Why did you buy me and Tam fags and lunch? It was a nice thing to do, but why did you do it?’ Stephanie asked, suspiciously. Her mum had drummed it into her from an early age never to let a boy buy her anything because they would always expect something in return.

‘I bought you fags and lunch ’cause I like you. Where I come from, that’s what boys do when they like a girl.’

Feeling her stomach start to somersault, Stephanie looked away from Barry’s intense gaze. ‘I can take the bag from ’ere. I’ll see you tomorrow at school,’ she said, annoyed with herself for feeling the way she did.

Barry handed her the bag and at the same time grasped her hand. ‘Let me take you out, Steph? I work, so I can afford to take you anywhere you wanna go. You choose and I’ll pay.’

Feeling her hand start to shake, Stephanie snatched it away from Barry’s and stared at the pavement. Wayne had humiliated her beyond belief and she didn’t fancy a repeat performance of that. ‘I dunno,’ she replied, with an ill-at-ease tone to her voice. She felt confused. Wayne was the first boy she had ever really liked, and now she felt the same about Barry. Did all fourteen year olds fall in and out of love so quickly? Tammy had never had a real boyfriend, so she would have to ask some of her other school friends if her feelings were normal.

Barry grinned. He knew that Steph liked him and would eventually say yes, so he decided to give her some space. ‘Look, I’m gonna shoot off now. Why don’t you give me your answer tomorrow lunchtime? I won’t ask you in class, I’ll meet you and Tam down the café again and you can tell me there.’

‘OK,’ Steph replied, not knowing what else to say.

Pecking her on the cheek, Barry Franklin ran off while Steph stood rooted to the spot.

Angela Crouch stood outside the public toilets feeling like a woman rather than a child. Her and Wayne had done it four times and each fresh attempt had been more pleasurable for Angie than the previous. The bit she’d enjoyed the most was when Wayne had put his finger between the lips of her vagina and moved it up and down. That had felt really good, and at one point she had felt really weird, like she wanted to scream out with joy. Unfortunately, though, Wayne had then stopped.

Seeing Stephanie approaching the pedestrian crossing, Angela ran across the road towards her. ‘Thanks, sis, I owe you one,’ she said, as she took her bag off her.

‘How was your day? Did you and Jacko have a laugh in Romford?’ Steph asked, chirpily.

‘Yeah, we had a brill time. Why you looking so happy? Has something happened?’ Angela asked, suspiciously.

Desperate to tell someone her wonderful news, Stephanie made her sister promise not to tell their mum.

‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ Angie swore.

Stephanie explained all about Barry, without leaving out any detail. ‘He paid for our lunches, bought us some snout and he says he’ll take me anywhere I want to go. He works at weekends as what’s called a fly pitcher – like a market trader – and he’s the image of that famous actor, Matt Dillon. Oh Ange, he is gorgeous, and he only lives across the road to us. I can even stare at him through our bedroom window.’

Angela was baffled. To her knowledge there was no handsome boy living across the road to them, and she fleetingly wondered if her sister was making the whole story up. ‘I dunno who you mean, Steph. The only boy anywhere near our age living over the road is four-eyed Timmy, and he certainly don’t look like Matt Dillon. You ain’t making it up ’cause you’re jealous of me and Jacko, are you?’

Stephanie laughed and shook her head in disbelief. Her sister was so self-centred, everything was always about her, her, her. ‘Barry’s only just moved in. He’s Marlene’s son.’

‘Oh my God! Mum will go mad if she finds out you’re going out with the old slapper’s boy,’ Angie exclaimed.

‘Well, she ain’t gonna find out, is she? Don’t you dare tell her, Ange, ’cause if you do, I shall tell her about you and Jacko and I’ll tell her you bunked off school as well.’

Angela shot her sister a disdainful look. ‘I swear I won’t say anything, OK? But, I’m telling you now, when Mum does find out, she will go mental.’