Schemer (34 page)

‘Yep, and the one I lost my virginity to.’

‘Blimey! Do you reckon he knows you work here, Ange? What you gonna do if he wants you to dance for him?’

Angela laughed. ‘Show him what he’s been missing all these years.’

Barry Franklin hadn’t seen Angela Crouch for years. Even though he had heard she was working as a lap dancer in a seedy club in London, he was shocked when Potter pointed her out to him. Wayne had apparently spotted her when Barry had gone to the toilet, and Wayne was now having a nice, cosy chat with her by the looks of things. Barry craned his neck and smirked. Wayne had been insistent on coming to this particular club, so surely he must have known that Angela worked here?

‘Wait ’ere, I’ll be back in a tick,’ Barry ordered Cooksie and Potter. Young Lee was in a drunken trance and had just half collapsed on a nearby seat.

‘Where you going?’ Cooksie asked. Wayne had paid for everybody to get into the club, and he only had a score on him. There was no way he could afford to drool over the dancers unless Barry or Wayne paid for the pleasure.

‘I’m just gonna check that Wayne’s OK. He might not have known that Angie worked here, so don’t you pair come over in case he feels a bit awkward.’

‘He didn’t know she worked here. He was well shocked when he saw her. We all were,’ Potter informed him.

‘What a coincidence!’ Barry said, as if to agree, before walking over to where Wayne and Angela were standing. Potter and Cooksie might both be as thick as two short planks, but he most certainly wasn’t. It was far too much of a coincidence that – out of every club in the whole of London – Wayne had chosen this particular one where Angie worked. Now, all he had to do was find out what was going on.

‘Look who I bumped into,’ Wayne said awkwardly when he spotted Barry.

Angela stared at Barry. He was extremely handsome, looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. ‘Do I know you?’ she asked, flashing her most seductive smile.

‘You bloody well should do! You used to live opposite me. Barry Franklin’s the name and it’s a pleasure to see you again, Angela. My, my, haven’t you grown.’

Angela grinned. Her sister’s first love and fiancé were both in her club. This night was just getting better and better. ‘Where you sitting? I’ll come over later and give yous a dance. I’ve got some gentlemen over there that require my unique talent first, though, so give me about half an hour or so.’

‘So, didn’t you know she worked here?’ Barry asked when Angela walked away.

‘You don’t think I’d have fucking come ’ere if I did, do ya? No, I didn’t have a clue she worked ’ere. That’s all I need. Steph will go apeshit if she finds out and Angie’s bound to tell her. As if I ain’t got enough on me plate as it is.’

Barry studied Wayne. If he wasn’t telling the truth, then he was certainly a wonderful liar. ‘What do you wanna do, then? We don’t have to stay ’ere if you don’t want to.’

‘Bit late for that now. Not only has it cost me five hundred sovs to get us in ’ere, Angie’s already seen us. I’ll worry about what I’m gonna say to Steph in the morning, so let’s just get pissed, shall we?’

Barry chuckled. ‘I thought you weren’t drinking much.’

‘I weren’t, but I’ve changed me mind now I’ve seen fucking Angie. Honestly, Bal, my life couldn’t get any worse at the moment.’

‘Grab a waitress then, and I’ll treat you to a bottle of bubbly,’ Barry said, smirking. Wayne’s last comment had tickled him somewhat. If Wayne honestly thought that his life couldn’t get any worse, then he had no idea of his quest for revenge.

The rest of the evening turned into a usual stag-night fiasco. Potter and Cooksie had an argument over football, which nearly escalated into a fight. Lee had been sick all over one of the dancers and had been thrown out of the club by security. Wayne had gone off to look for Lee, but had never returned, and Barry had spent a fortune paying one girl to dance for him purely because he was bored shitless. Glancing around the club, Barry spotted the mixed-race girl who Angela had pointed out as her flatmate earlier. He walked over to her. ‘Where’s Angie, love? I’m looking for Wayne and I wondered if they were chatting somewhere.’

‘She left about an hour ago. She felt ill,’ the girl replied.

Smirking, Barry made his way back over towards Potter and Cooksie. It had been about an hour ago when Wayne had disappeared as well, which was another strange coincidence. ‘I’m going back to the hotel now,’ Barry told the lads.

‘Don’t go yet. Wait till it shuts,’ Cooksie replied. He and Potter were both skint, and without Barry they couldn’t afford any more dances.

‘Nah, I gotta go. Yous two stay here and have fun.’

‘Why you gotta go, then?’ Potter asked, nosily.

‘Because I need to see a man about a dog.’

‘What’s that mean?’ Cooksie asked, perplexed.

Laughing, Barry turned on his heel and sauntered out of the club.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Barry woke up early the next morning with a muzzy head. He stood up, stretched, looked at Wayne’s empty bed and smirked. Feeling absolutely ravenous, Barry had a quick shower, threw on the change of outfit he had brought with him and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

‘Bazza,’ he heard a voice shout.

Barry looked around and saw Cooksie and Potter both tucking into a full English. ‘That’s not lager you’re drinking, is it?’

Potter laughed. ‘We ain’t been to bed yet. Jacko said to order whatever we wanted at the bar and put it on his tab, so we did. We haven’t took the piss, mind. We’ve only had four pints each.’

‘Where is Jacko? Still in bed, is he?’ Cooksie asked.

‘I dunno where he is. He never made it back to the hotel. His bed ain’t been slept in and his sports bag is still in his room.’

‘The lucky bastard! I wonder who he copped off with,’ Cooksie said, wistfully. He had tried to pull at least a dozen birds last night and each and every one of them had all but told him to fuck off.

‘I think I know who he copped off with, but if I tell you, don’t say nothing, will ya?’ Barry said, knowing full well they were both gossips.

‘We won’t say nothing, honest we won’t,’ Potter replied, with an innocent look on his face.

‘I think he spent the night with Steph’s sister, Angie. She disappeared early, faked an illness apparently, and he went off the radar at exactly the same time. It’s too much of a coincidence, if you ask me – and remember, they’ve already got history.’

Stephanie Crouch hadn’t had the best of mornings, Tyler had had one of his little tantrums and had broken her favourite plant pot. Dannielle had been sick three times. Then, to top it all, the alterations lady had brought her wedding dress back and Stephanie still wasn’t happy with the way it fitted. Trying Wayne’s number again, Stephanie began to feel the first stirrings of unrest. Wayne had known how worried she was about him going out with Barry, and her husband-to-be had promised to ring her the moment he opened his eyes this morning. It was noon now, and his phone was still bloody well switched off. Guessing that he had probably got plasterered and was currently sleeping it off, Steph rang Tammy. ‘Where you been? And why ain’t you been answering my bloody calls, you inconsiderate bitch?’ she asked, laughing.

‘Sorry, mate. Richard paid me a surprise visit and we went to a party last night. I didn’t take my phone with me, so never got any of your missed calls until this morning. Was you pissed? You must have rung me about six times,’ Tammy replied.

‘No, I was just bored and wanted a chat. It was Wayne’s stag do last night, weren’t it?’

‘Shit! I’d forgotten about that. How did it go? Is Wayne home yet?’ Tammy asked.

‘No, I can’t get hold of the bastard. Probably still pissed out of his head somewhere,’ Steph said, chuckling.

‘Why don’t you ring one of his pals? Make sure he’s OK. I don’t trust that Barry Franklin. He’s a wrong ’un, I’m telling you, Steph. I bet he’s tied Wayne up and left him somewhere, or even worse.’

Stephanie sighed. Ever since the night Tammy had come over with Richard, her friend had kept harping on about how she didn’t trust Barry and how she thought he was out for his revenge. ‘I haven’t got any of his mate’s numbers. Wayne’ll be fine. I bet his phone battery has run out. The drippy bastard forgot to pack his charger and is probably on his way home as we speak. Why don’t you and Richard come round tonight? Wayne will definitely be back by then and I’m sure a nice takeaway will cure his hangover. There’s a lovely Indian I’ve just found near here and they deliver.’

‘I’d have loved to, Steph, but Richard’s flying back to Spain this evening. I’ve promised to take him to the airport. He only came over for a flying visit. He had an important business meeting up town somewhere.’

About to tell Tammy about the fiasco with her wedding dress, Stephanie heard Dannielle calling her name. ‘I’m gonna have to go, mate. Danni’s got a bug and I think she feels sick again. Let me go and see to her and I’ll call you straight back.’

‘Don’t worry about ringing back, Steph. Richard’s taking me out for lunch, so I’ll call you tonight after I’ve dropped him off at the airport.’

After tending to her sick daughter and making her son a sandwich, Stephanie picked up the phone and rang Wayne again. The phone was still switched off and, remembering Tammy’s words of warning, Steph immediately rang her mum.

Pam was in no mood to listen to her daughter ramble on about Wayne’s whereabouts. She’d had the morning from hell herself, what with Angie not turning up to collect Aidan. ‘I’m gonna kill that selfish little mare when I get my hands on her, Steph. I know I told her I wanted nothing more to do with her, but how can she treat that little boy like that, eh? He’s been sitting ’ere crying his eyes out, bless him. Look, I’ll have to go. I’ll call you back a bit later. Don’t worry too much about Wayne. I bet he’s on his way home as we speak.’

‘OK. As soon as I hear from him, I’ll let you know, Mum,’ Stephanie said, ending the call. Dialling Wayne’s number again, Stephanie swore at the receiver in temper as the recorded message informed her that his phone was still switched off. If Tammy was right and her ex had played some stupid, evil prank on Wayne, she would kill Barry bloody Franklin with her own bare hands.

Back at the hotel in Soho, Barry was at a loose end at what to do next. The rooms had to be vacated by twelve noon, so he had collected his and Wayne’s bags and had sat at the bar awaiting his return. Potter and Cooksie were both well hammered and about as much use as a chocolate teapot so, running out of ideas, Barry decided to search Wayne’s bag. ‘Bingo, lads,’ he said, as he pulled out Wayne’s mobile phone.

‘No wonder you couldn’t get through to him,’ Potter slurred.

Barry switched on the phone and was relieved that it still had battery life left.

‘Who you gonna ring?’ Cooksie asked, struggling to sit upright.

‘Steph. Jacko might have felt guilty spending the night with Angela and fucked off straight home,’ Barry replied, smirking. He punched in the contact that read home, then gleefully waited for an answer. ‘Is that you, Steph?’

‘Yeah, who’s that?’

‘It’s Barry.’

‘What do you want? Where’s Wayne?’ Stephanie asked, frantically.

‘To be honest I was about to ask you the same question. I take it he hasn’t rung you or been home yet? It’s Wayne’s phone I’m calling you on.’

Stephanie felt her stomach lurch. ‘No, what have you done to him, Barry? If you’ve played some dumb prank on him, you’re gonna have me to deal with.’

‘I ain’t done nothing, mate. We ended up in a club last night in Soho and Wayne left early. Actually, let me ring that young fella Lee who works for him. Lee got slung out the club for puking up and Wayne went off to look for him. Perhaps he took him home in a cab and stayed round his or something. I’ll ring him now and call you straight back, OK?’

‘No, I’m not OK, and why have you got Wayne’s phone?’ Stephanie asked, in an extremely distressed voice.

‘Because he left his bag in the hotel room and the phone was in it. I remember him ringing Danno when we dropped our bags off before we went out last night, and he must have switched his phone off and left it in the room. I’ve only just found the poxy thing, otherwise I’d have rung you earlier, Steph.’

‘Ring Lee then, and ring me straight back,’ Stephanie ordered.

Barry turned to Potter and Cooksie. ‘Jacko ain’t at home, so I’m gonna ring Lee to see if he’s with him.’

‘Why don’t you ring Angie? She’s probably got his cock in her mouth as we speak,’ Potter said, laughing.

Barry grinned, then scrolled through the phone once again. He found Lee’s number and rang it. ‘Is Jacko with you?’ he asked.

‘No, why?’

‘When you got slung out the club last night, he came looking for you. No one’s seen him since, so we wondered if he took you home or something?’

‘I can’t even remember leaving the club, let alone seeing Wayne. I remember trying to get a black cab, but none would take me, then I think some foreign geezer pulled up, said he was a minicab and he took me back to Woodford for twenty quid.’

Barry ended the call and, as promised, rang Stephanie straight back. ‘I’ve just spoken to Lee and he hasn’t seen Wayne either. I dunno what to do, Steph. Me, Potter and Cooksie can’t sit ’ere all day waiting for him. We got chucked out of our rooms ages ago.’

‘So, where the hell is he? What have you done to him?’ Stephanie asked, panic-stricken.

‘Calm down. We ain’t done nothing to him. Wayne left the club long before me and the others did. Ask the others if you don’t believe me. Cooksie and Potter are both sitting here beside me.’

‘No, I don’t want to talk to them. Do you think I should call the police?’ Stephanie asked, near to tears.

‘You can’t ring the Old Bill, not yet anyway. If you tell them that Wayne was out on his stag night, they will laugh you off the phone. I’m gonna grab a cab in a minute. Do you want me to come round?’

Debating whether to say yes, Stephanie remembered Tammy’s distrustful opinion of Barry. ‘No. I’m fine,’ she snapped.

‘Do me a favour, then. Can you write down my phone number and ring me as soon as you hear anything from him?’