Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Collection: The Schemer, The Trap, Payback. Kimberley Chambers

raised her eyebrows. ‘I should bloody well hope so, she’s my chief bridesmaid. Tam’s just given three months’ notice at work, so she’ll be here until April, at least.’

      ‘Good job your Wayne surprised you with a winter wedding then, eh? You might have been searching for another bridesmaid, if not.’

      Remembering how Wayne had proposed to her, Stephanie couldn’t help but grin. They had discussed getting married many times over the years, but what with the kids and other stuff getting in the way, they had never quite got round to it. This Christmas, however, Wayne had taken the bull by the horns, and in front of her mum, Lin and the kids, had got down on one knee.

      ‘Steph, I’m sick of waiting for you to be my wife, so I’m asking you one last time. Will you bloody well marry me?’ he’d asked, with a cheeky grin on his face.

      Stephanie had thought he was drunk, so had laughed, kissed him and said ‘yes’. Seconds later, she had been gobsmacked when Wayne had handed her a big envelope. He had brazenly taken the liberty of booking everything from the venue to the entertainment, bless him. The venue was a classy manor house in rural Essex, and the ceremony, meal and reception were being held there as well. Stephanie was extremely excited. Wayne’s proposal had been the most romantic gesture ever and he had spared no expense. He had even paid a deposit on rooms in a local hotel so all their friends and family could stay there for the night.

      ‘What we talking about? Oh, don’t tell me, let me guess. My money say’s we’re talking about the wedding again,’ Angela said sarcastically as she barged into the bedroom. She hadn’t been with her family when Wayne had proposed, but they had spoken about little else ever since.

      Pam threw her youngest daughter a disdainful look. Angela had always been jealous of Stephanie and Wayne’s relationship from the very beginning, and Pam had never believed Angie’s lies about her losing her virginity to Wayne at the age of thirteen. ‘I swear it’s true, Mum. Wayne’s a pervert,’ Angela had insisted on numerous occasions.

      Pam hadn’t wanted to upset Stephanie, but she had once confronted Wayne about the subject. He vehemently denied it all, and laughed. ‘You know what your Angie’s like. She’s a dreamer, a chancer and a terrible fucking liar. She had a crush on me in school. She lied about her age. I met up with her a couple of times, snogged her face off, then dumped her when I found out she was thirteen. That’s it,’ Wayne had told her. Pam believed him, as she remembered Angela telling her the same bloody story years ago when she and Stephanie used to refer to him as Jacko.

      ‘Where’s Aidan?’ Pam asked.

      ‘Downstairs with Dannielle and that other brat,’ Angela said coldly. She couldn’t stand Tyler. His little tantrums did her head in.

      Stephanie leapt off the bed and pointed a finger in her sister’s face. ‘Don’t you dare call my son a brat, and what you said about Grandad earlier at the graveside was absolutely disgusting. I weren’t gonna tell Mum, but I will now.’

      Pam stared at her two daughters in dismay. She hated it when they argued – so much so that she was relieved that they rarely saw one another any more. ‘Will yous two stop it? We’ve just buried your grandfather, for Christ’s sake. Have some respect, the pair of you.’

      Stephanie wasn’t usually a grass. Angela was the master of that, but for once she couldn’t help but spill her guts. ‘Respect! Angela wouldn’t know the meaning of that word, Mum. As Grandad’s coffin was being lowered into the ground, she told me what a horrible selfish old bastard he was. She said that instead of spending his meagre bit of savings on a horse and cart and a piss-up for his mates at his own funeral, he should have left it to her.’

      Unable to take any more stress for one day, Pam put her head in her hands and cried. It had been she who had forced Stephanie to ask her sister to be a bridesmaid at her wedding and she so wished now that she hadn’t. They didn’t get on, never had done, and Pam knew in her heart of hearts that Stephanie’s big day had disaster stamped all over it. She could feel it in her aching bones.

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      Wayne Jackman opened his overloaded wardrobe and sifted through the quality clobber he had inside. He had always been a sucker for a designer label. As a teenager he’d had a passion for Sergio Tacchini, Fila and Lacoste, but now he was a successful businessman, it was all about Gucci, Armani and Ralph Lauren. Choosing a crisp white shirt, Wayne studied his physique in the full-length mirror. He trained for hours in his own gym and his dedication had paid off big time. His stomach was taut, he had arms that were toned to perfection, and he always wore his jeans or trousers that little bit tighter to show off the rippling muscles in his legs.

      Checking his watch, Wayne pulled his favourite jeans out of the wardrobe and took his expensive tan leather shoes out of their box. He was running a bit late, and didn’t have time to ponce about for ages as he usually did when he was going out. Stephanie always took the piss out of him. She reckoned he was a right tart and took longer to get ready than she did. Glancing in the mirror again, Wayne added a dab more Brylcreem to his hair. Gone was the dodgy Eighties wedge style: he now wore it slicked back to give him a more sophisticated look. Finishing off his beauty regime by dousing his cheeks in aftershave, Wayne smirked as he stared at the finished article. At six foot two, he was tall, but because he was supple and fit, he didn’t look lanky. His body was in perfect proportion for his height. Picking up his car keys, Wayne grabbed a jacket and sauntered out of the bedroom. Tonight he was meeting his old school pals, Mark Potter, Chris Cook and Danny MacKenzie. Danno, Wayne had kept in regular contact with since school. Cooksie and Potter he hadn’t seen for years, but had made an effort to contact them because of his forthcoming wedding. Wayne grinned as he leapt into his BMW. It had been ages since he’d had a decent night out with the lads and he was looking forward to this one immensely.

      Tammy looked stressed at she dashed into the restaurant. ‘Sorry I’m late. Somebody chucked themselves under the train at Liverpool Street, so I had to arse about getting a cab to Mile End. Why are people so bloody inconsiderate these days? Couldn’t whoever it was have just took an overdose of tablets or jumped off a cliff? Rather then ballsing up everybody else’s day, mine included.’

      Laughing, Stephanie stood up and hugged her best friend. Tammy’s wonderful sense of humour was just one of the many things she was going to miss when her pal emigrated to Spain. ‘I ordered us a bottle of Pinot, but I’ve already drunk half of it. Shall we have another bottle before we eat? I’m not that hungry yet and I haven’t got to go home early. My mum’s got the kids for the night, thank God.’

      ‘Suits me, girl,’ Tammy replied, helping herself to a glass of wine.

      ‘So how’s Tricky Dicky then? Has he been ringing you up from Spain?’ Steph asked, nosily. Tricky Dicky was her nickname for Tammy’s new boyfriend. His real name was Richard, but Steph rarely referred to him as that. Seeing as he’d appeared out of nowhere and was now taking her best friend away from her, Tricky Dicky somehow suited him better.

      ‘Yep, he’s been ringing me every day. Business is booming at the moment by all accounts, so it all looks promising for when I move out there. I love your hair, Steph. You’ve had it done different, haven’t you?’ Tammy remarked, changing the subject.

      Stephanie ran her fingers through her bouncy dark curls. Everybody had always said she was pretty – stunning, in fact – but she had never really felt that way. Being five foot eight, she had always felt a bit gawky. She knew she had a cheeky smile, nice white teeth and cute dimples, but other than that she had always felt quite plain compared to her sister, Angela. ‘I’ve been using heated rollers on it, but I don’t put them in every day. I can’t be arsed unless I’m going out somewhere. Do you think I should have it like this for the wedding? I’m not sure it will look right with that little tiara thing I’ve bought.’

      ‘I’d have it like that, but you want to feel comfortable, Steph. You will look beautiful either way,’ Tammy replied, honestly.

      ‘Aah, you’re so