The Schemer. Kimberley Chambers

The Schemer - Kimberley  Chambers


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he’s coming. Rewind it to Shalamar “A Night to Remember” while I light the snout up,’ Steph said, with a hint of panic in her voice. She needed Wayne to see her drinking and smoking, otherwise he might just see her as some silly schoolgirl.

      Tammy watched in amazement as Wayne and his two mates crossed the road and sauntered past her and Angela as though they didn’t exist. ‘Well, say something then. He ain’t gonna notice you if you sit there like a tailor’s dummy, is he?’ she spat at Steph.

      Overcome by nerves, Steph had all but lost her voice. ‘I can’t think of nothing to say,’ she croaked, her mind completely blank.

      Furious that they’d wasted hours dossing about up the Heathway when they could have been having a laugh with the lads over the park, Tammy stood up. ‘Oi, Jacko,’ she shouted out.

      ‘Stop it! What you doing?’ Steph squirmed, pulling at her friend’s sleeve.

      ‘Whaddya want?’ Wayne asked, as he casually approached Tammy with his hands dug deep in his tracksuit pockets. His best pals, Mark Potter and Chris Cook, stood beside Wayne like two bodyguards.

      ‘We wondered if yous wanted to meet us over the park tonight. There’s a party over there and loads of us are going. We’re all gonna get smashed, ain’t we, Steph?’ Tammy said, trying to sound cool.

      ‘It all depends if you’re gonna let us have a feel around that ginger minge of yours,’ Mark Potter said, chuckling.

      ‘You don’t wanna feel round there. They don’t call her Tampax for nothing, you know,’ Chris Cook chipped in.

      ‘You’re such a wanker, Cooksie,’ Wayne said, laughing. None of the lads called one another by their first names. Jacko, Potter and Cooksie sounded far more hip than Wayne, Mark and Chris.

      When Wayne knelt down beside her, Stephanie’s face reddened to a similar colour as Tammy’s hair.

      ‘Gonna offer me some of that cider, sexy?’ he asked.

      Hands shaking, Steph passed him the bottle she was holding.

      ‘Gissa fag. Potter will have one an’ all,’ Cooksie said to Tammy.

      Annoyed at the way the boys had taken the piss out of her, Tammy shook her head. ‘We’ve only got six left and they’ve gotta last us all night,’ she replied, haughtily.

      ‘We’ve only got six left and they’ve got to last us all night,’ Cooksie chanted, mimicking Tammy’s voice.

      Ignoring his pal’s laughter, Wayne winked at Steph. He could tell how much she fancied him. He had the same effect on most girls, and he loved playing on his attractiveness and winding them up. ‘So, why did you really call us over here? Did you wanna ask me something?’ Wayne asked, staring at Steph intently with his piercing blue eyes.

      Feeling as though she was about to faint, Steph shook her head frantically. Letting Wayne know that she fancied him was totally out of the question, so she had no option other than to lie. ‘Tammy wanted to call you over. She fancies Potter,’ Steph blurted out.

      ‘You lying cow! I heard that and I do not fancy Potter. The reason we called you over is because Steph’s got the hots for you, Jacko. Been doing my head in ever since you whistled at her in the alley. All I hear is Wayne this and Wayne that, so on Steph’s behalf, will you go out with her?’

      When Potter and Cooksie burst out laughing, Stephanie hung her head in shame. She’d experienced some embarrassing times in her life, none more so than when she’d fallen off the stage dressed as Rizzo out of Grease during her school play, but this beat that cringeworthy moment hands down.

      Wayne chuckled. He could sense Stephanie’s humiliation and was rather enjoying the enormous effect he was having on her. ‘So, you wanna go out with me?’ he asked, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

      Stephanie shrugged. ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ she replied, in almost a whisper.

      Wayne grinned at Potter and Cooksie, then turned his attention back to Steph. ‘Ask me properly and I’ll see what I can do for you.’

      Stephanie glanced at Tammy. This was all her bloody fault. ‘Will you go out with me?’ she mumbled, unable to look Wayne in the eye.

      ‘Sorry, still can’t hear you properly,’ he replied, cockily.

      Knowing it was shit-or-bust time, Steph decided to stand up and brave it. Wayne must fancy her as much as she fancied him, else why would he want her to ask him out in the first place? ‘Will you go out with me, Jacko?’ she asked, boldly.

      Wayne ran his hand through his trendy wedge haircut and smirked at his pals. ‘I can’t I’m afraid, darling. I’ve already got a bird and I’ve gotta dash now as I’m gonna be late meeting her. See you around, Steph.’

      When Potter and Cooksie burst out laughing, Steph’s eyes filled up with tears. Wayne Jackman had made her look a complete and utter idiot and she knew she’d be a laughing stock at school on Monday morning.

      As the lads walked away in high spirits, Tammy tried to hug her best friend. ‘Jacko’s an arsehole, you’re worth a hundred of him, Steph,’ she said, truthfully.

      Feeling both furious and degraded, Steph violently pushed Tammy away. ‘This is all your fault. If you hadn’t opened your big mouth, none of this would have happened. I hate you Tammy Andrews, and I never want to see you again.’

      Bursting into a flood of uncontrollable tears, Stephanie picked up her purse and ran off as fast as she could.

      With little money left every week out of their wages, Pam and Cathy did virtually all their socializing indoors. Neither women were big drinkers, but most Saturday nights they liked to share a bottle of Liebfraumilch between them. Sunday was the only day that neither woman worked, so it was nice to let their hair down a bit.

      ‘How’s the café been this week? Busy?’ Pam asked her friend.

      ‘Yeah, not bad. We keep attracting a crowd of school-kids though. The little sods are bunking off from the Priory, I think. Bleedin’ nuisance they are.’

      Pam chuckled. Cathy worked in a café in Broad Street Market, which was only a spit’s throw from their homes in Manning Road.

      ‘What about you? How’s the eating-in idea working out?’ Cath asked, as she opened the bottle of wine.

      Pam worked in a bakery in Dagenham East that had recently expanded and started an eating-in service.

      ‘It’s really begun to take off now. We’ve even started selling cooked breakfasts and jacket potatoes,’ Pam said, excitedly. She was hoping the extra business would give her a much-needed pay rise.

      ‘Quick, come ’ere. There’s a blue van just pulled up outside the old slapper’s with an old boy and a young fella in it,’ Cath exclaimed.

      ‘Someone’s moving in by the looks of that mattress. I saw the black man leave about half an hour ago. Surely she ain’t got another victim already?’ Pam said, laughing.

      ‘Well, it can’t be the young one, he’s younger than my Michael. She’s gotta be moving the old boy in, surely?’ Cath said, bemused.

      ‘How is your Michael? I ain’t seen him for ages. Still loved-up, is he?’

      Unable to take her eyes away from the window in case she missed anything worth noting, Cath nodded her head. Her eldest son, Pete, had recently got married, and now it looked as though her youngest was about to fly the nest too.

      ‘Only comes home to bring his washing back and stuff his face now. She’s a nice girl, that Jane he’s with, but I wish she didn’t already have a kid. I reckon he’ll move in with her soon, but I do worry about him, Pam. I mean, taking on another man’s child ain’t ideal, is it? And I’ve just found out the father of the kid is in prison. It’s times like this I rue the day I moved to Dagenham, mate. If I had put me


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