gave me his number. It’s a mobile. Perhaps it’s dodgy and he was taking the mickey out of me?’ Melissa suggested.
Carol held her daughter’s beautiful face in her hands. She’d never met Donte’s father, but the bastard had knocked the stuffing out of Melissa. She’d once been a confident girl, full of life. Now she was insecure and Carol hated seeing her like that. ‘Ring him,’ she urged. ‘Sod Tracey. Remember that time you fancied David Ward? She didn’t care when you caught her snogging him behind the bloody bike sheds, did she? Go with your instincts for once.’
‘He must be nice to buy Donte that dog,’ Melissa said, lost in thought.
‘You gotta go for it then, love. My mate Sylvie fancied your father before I snapped him up. Sometimes I wish I’d have let her have him,’ Carol laughed. ‘Sylv never spoke to me for a month when we started courting, but she soon got over it. True friends are hard to find and not many girls will put up with that madam Tracey Thompson like you do. Trust me on that one.’
Melissa smiled. ‘Perhaps I’ll ring him. What if it’s a dodgy number though?’
‘If that’s the case, I’ll be marching straight down to Dagenham Market next Sunday and whacking him around the head with my handbag,’ Carol stated, meaning every word. She was very protective when it came to her children, had once nearly stuck a pair of secateurs into a woman’s arm over Melissa while pruning her roses.
Melissa laughed. ‘I don’t want to seem too keen. But if I do decide to contact him, how long do you reckon I should leave it?’
Carol squeezed her daughter’s hands. ‘No ifs or buts, ring him on Tuesday. Mummy knows best. She always has.’
‘That you, Jason?’ shouted sixty-year-old Peggy Rampling. She knew it would be her grandson; he was the only other person with a key to her house.
‘All right, Nan,’ Jason answered, handing her a box of goodies.
‘What ya got for me then?’ Peggy asked, delving into the box then looking up at him, disappointed. ‘No Guinness?’
‘Nah. I couldn’t park outside the offie and couldn’t be arsed taking the stereo and speakers out the car again. There’s perfume in there, some toiletries, a Connie Francis CD and a few packets of them biscuits you like.’
Peggy took the Rive Gauche perfume out of the box and began coughing and spluttering as she sprayed it. ‘That ain’t the real McCoy. Smells like cat’s piss,’ she complained.
‘It is the real deal, Nan. I bought it off a pal and he wouldn’t have me over.’
‘Well, he has. Get your money back and buy me some Guinness instead,’ Peggy said, lobbing the perfume back at Jason.
‘What you been up to? Did you go to bingo last night?’
‘Yep! And Friday. Rigged, that bingo hall is. Same faces win every night. Won the regional, that old cow Doris Shipton did. That’s the second time she’s won it this year and it’s only bastard April. Nobody’s that lucky. I hope she gets her purse snatched.’
‘Some people are just born lucky, Nan. You going again tonight?’
‘Nah. I’d like to, of course – gets lonely, sitting in here on me jacks – but I can’t afford it.’
Knowing full well his grandmother had money stashed in pots, pans, jars and tins all over the gaff, Jason put his hand in his pocket and handed her a score.
‘Thank you, sweetheart. Good boy to your old nan, you are. Don’t know how you come out of her, I honestly don’t. How is she? As rancid as ever?’
‘Same old, same old,’ Jason replied truthfully. His nan and mum hadn’t spoken since he was eight years old. At five, his mother had decided she didn’t want him any more and had palmed him off to live with his nan. Those were the happiest childhood memories Jason had. His nan wasn’t perfect – she was a prolific pilferer who’d shoplift anything that wasn’t nailed down – but she’d given him love and attention, the two things he never got at home. When Babs was born, his mother insisted he had to live with her again, and his nan hadn’t spoken to her since.
‘Got yourself a nice girlfriend yet?’ Peggy grinned.
‘I’m still seeing that one from Harold Hill I told you about, but I think I’m gonna have to knock her on the head. She’s only seventeen. Too young and immature.’ Jason told his grandmother most things, but had never mentioned his affair with Darlene. His nan had once lived on the Mardyke and hated her. ‘Look at that old slapper. All fur coat and no knickers, that one,’ she’d say whenever they crossed paths. The last thing Jason wanted was his gran turning up on Dar’s doorstep creating havoc. And he was sure she would if she learned the truth. She was that type of woman.
‘You need a mother for Shay, ASAP. Horrible child! Don’t bring her round ’ere no more, will ya? Trampled on all me geraniums on purpose last time she visited, and I’d only just planted the bastard things. You need to get her away from that stinking fat excuse of a mother of yours. Because if you don’t, she’ll only get worse,’ Peggy warned.
Jason sighed. His nan wasn’t one to mince her words and was usually right. ‘I know. Leave it with me. I’m working on it.’
Melissa Brooks lay on her bed wallowing in self-pity. It hadn’t stopped raining all day, so she hadn’t been able to take Donte out as she usually did. And her son had a cold, had been whingeing since the moment he’d opened his eyes this morning. Days such as these were the ones she wished for her old life back.
Melissa looked at the time again. Tracey worked on her mother’s burger van on an industrial estate and would be home soon. They hadn’t spoken since Sunday. When Mel had rung Tracey Sunday evening and last night, her mum had said she’d gone to the pub.
Sighing, Melissa sat up. She’d had lots of friends before she’d had Donte, but had lost touch with most of them now. The girls from work rang her occasionally, but her life seemed so different to theirs it depressed Melissa talking to them. It had only been an office job at the council, but she’d been happy there. She’d left when she was six months pregnant; they’d offered her maternity leave, but instead she took a small redundancy payment. Her father had made it perfectly clear that raising the baby would be her responsibility, so she’d had little choice.
Carol peeked around the bedroom door. ‘You hungry yet, love? I finally got Donte off to sleep. Really not himself today, is he?’
When her daughter’s eyes welled up, Carol sat next to her on the bed and put an arm round her.
‘Tracey’s avoiding me, so now I have nobody to go out with. Sometimes I wish I’d taken Dad’s advice. It’s no fun being a single mum at my age. I miss my old life.’
Realizing a stern talking to was needed, Carol cleared her throat. ‘It’s too late for regrets, Mel. Donte is part of your life now and always will be. Sod Tracey. She’s never been a good friend to you anyway. Ring Jason. Go on. What have you got to lose?’
Melissa fished through her purse and pulled out the number.
