Название: Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Collection: The Schemer, The Trap, Payback
Автор: Kimberley Chambers
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9780008141349
isbn:
Pam shook her head in disgust. Ever since the old slapper had recently moved into the house opposite, she had been her and Cath’s main topic of conversation. Marlene was her name, and the only other bit of information they could find out about her was that she’d lived in Bethnal Green before moving to Dagenham. It wasn’t just the number of men Pam and Cath had seen visit the house that had earned Marlene her nickname. It was the over-the-top way she dressed, her snooty, up-her-own-arse attitude, her pregnant fifteen-year-old daughter, and the fact that she had old bits of sheet hanging in her windows rather than proper curtains.
‘Ere she comes, look. I can’t believe she’s got the front to walk about dressed like a film star, yet she’s got rotten old sheets for curtains. Talk about all fur coat and no knickers,’ Cathy said, bluntly.
Pam surreptitiously glanced at Marlene and the black man. ‘I bet he’s a Ford worker. Probably got some poor unsuspecting wife tucked away somewhere,’ she whispered.
Cathy’s lip curled up. Her old man had got one of the barmaids in East Ham Working Man’s Club pregnant, hence their messy divorce. Clocking the hatred towards Marlene on Cathy’s face, Pam linked arms with her. ‘Come on, let’s go indoors and have a nice cuppa, shall we? I’ve got some cream cakes if you fancy one?’
‘Let me pop in mine and sort my Michael’s dinner out first. I’ll give you a knock in about a half-hour or so,’ Cath replied.
Pam shut the front door, made a pot of tea and plonked herself down on the armchair to rest her tired legs. She was only thirty-five, but life hadn’t been kind to her and she sometimes felt twenty years older. At five foot one, Pam had always had an enormous appetite and had never been the slimmest of women, but since her husband had died, she’d gorged day and night just for comfort. Bringing up two daughters alone wasn’t easy, and even though she now had a job in a bakery, money was still scarce. David’s death had been a terrible shock at the time. He’d only been working as a steel erector for a month, when the police had knocked on Pam’s door and informed her of his accident. She’d dashed straight up the hospital, but after falling from thirty foot of scaffolding, David had never regained consciousness. Her daughters Stephanie and Angela had both adored their father, and telling them the awful news was the most difficult thing Pam had ever had to do. Thankfully, at four and three years old respectively, the girls had been far too young to understand the enormity of what had happened and had just accepted the news of David’s death as children that age tend to do.
Glancing at the picture of her mum on the mantelpiece, Pam sighed. Her wonderful mother, Ada, was the only person who had truly helped her cope after David’s death. A matriarch East Ender, she had sort of taken over in her own way, and had been there for Pam and the kids whenever she’d been called upon. Losing her mum to cancer was horrendous for Pam. Her dad, Arnold, was still alive, but he was a simple man who had no idea how to cope with Linda’s wants and needs. Linda was Pam’s only sister and had sadly been born with dwarfism. Under the circumstances, Linda had led life to the full. She had attended mainstream schools, had always worked, and had much more of a social life than Pam had herself. However, her mum had always worried about Linda’s welfare and had made Pam promise that if anything happened to her, she would look after her younger sister. A woman of her word, Pam had stuck to her promise. She had turfed Angela out of her bedroom and made her share with Steph, then Linda had moved into Angela’s old room. Her daughters weren’t happy about the sharing situation. They’d always got on fairly well as young children, but now they argued like cat and dog.
Pam was jolted back to reality by the arrival of her youngest daughter.
‘Where’s my shiny black leggings, Mum? Did you get ’em dry for me?’
Pam felt awful as she leapt out of the armchair. She had totally forgotten to wash the leggings and, unlike Steph who was little trouble at all, Angie was a demanding little cow at times. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, love. I’ve been so busy all day, it slipped my mind. Shall I rinse ’em through now for you?
Angela Crouch looked at her mother in complete and utter disbelief. One thing she had asked her to do, one small thing, and she couldn’t even manage that. ‘Don’t bother! I’ll have to wear them dirty. I bet if Steph had asked you to wash her leggings, you wouldn’t have forgotten, would you?’
‘Yes, I would have! Why don’t you wear your white ones I bought you down the Sunday market?’ Pam asked, with an apologetic tone to her voice.
‘Because they ain’t black and they ain’t shiny Lycra. This is the most important night of my life, Mum, and thanks to you it’s ruined now.’ Angela stomped out the room. In her eyes, her Miss Goody Two Shoes of a sister was the apple of her mother’s eye. Steph was the well-behaved, clever one who got great school reports. For years Angie had had to listen to her mum bigging Steph up to anyone who would care to listen, while the only mention she ever got was for underachieving or misbehaving.
Feeling second best did not suit Angela one little bit and it had made her harbour a secret hatred for her sister. She longed for Steph to slip up and dash her mother’s dreams of grandeur. That would be hilarious.
Slamming her bedroom door, Angela walked over to her sister’s bed. Unlike Angela, who had posters of her favourite popstars on the wall that her headboard rested against, Stephanie had a photo of herself and their deceased father. Angie stared at it, then casually took her nail scissors out of her make-up bag. She snipped the string and smiled as she heard the sound of breaking glass.
Stephanie Crouch felt her body shaking with pure lust as Wayne Jackman stood outside Dagenham Heathway Station chatting to some pals. Dressed in a striking blue Fila tracksuit and white Adidas trainers, Wayne looked the absolute nuts, and Steph was aware of the glances he was attracting from other girls.
‘Don’t his hair look cool? I think he’s got Brylcreem or something on it today. It don’t look as blond as it does in school, does it? Do you reckon he’s dyed it? Or, do you reckon it’s the product he’s used that’s making it look darker?’
Bored shitless, and positive that Wayne didn’t bathe and his hair was just greasy, Tammy Andrews ignored her friend’s stupid questions and turned the volume on the stereo up.
‘Quick, 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 СКАЧАТЬ