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.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Dressed in faded Levi jeans, a navy Lacoste jumper and white Nike trainers, Barry Franklin put on his grey flat cap and grinned at his reflection in the mirror. He was very aware of how cheeky and good looking he was, but he wasn’t big headed about it.
‘Why ain’t you at work?’ his mother asked accusingly, as she crept up behind him. Even though Barry was only fourteen, now he was living with her again, Marlene expected him to pay his way by bunging her the odd fiver or tenner here and there.
‘I took the day off. I’m taking a bird out instead,’ Barry replied, truthfully. He had always had a difficult relationship with his mother, and had only moved back in with her because his dad was up in court again next week and was guaranteed to get another little holiday at Her Majesty’s Pleasure.
‘If you’ve got money to spend on some little tart, then you can pay me some housekeeping,’ Marlene spat, holding out her right hand.
Barry handed his mother a tenner. ‘Where you off to today, Mum? You look well smart,’ Barry said, politely.
‘I’m going out with Marge. She’s found a proper little boozer over in South London. Reckons it’s full of villains and they don’t let the women buy a drink in there. I need to find meself a decent man who will look after me. I don’t like this bleedin’ Dagenham. A woman such as I deserves to live somewhere better, Barry.’
Even though he didn’t think his mother deserved sod all, Barry nodded in agreement. His dad said leaving his mum was the best move he had ever made, and he had been furious that she had kept his surname after their divorce. ‘Fucking old rotter she is. Only kept my name to give herself some undeserved street cred,’ his dad ranted on a regular basis.
‘So where you taking this bird and who is she?’ Marlene
