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

      ‘Apologize to the lady, else you’re leaving,’ Leroy ordered, glaring at the man in question.

      ‘I’m not apologizing to that tart. Anyway, you can’t chuck me out without giving me my money back. I’ve just paid a hundred quid to get in this dump and I’ve only had one drink.’

      ‘Tough shit! Out you go,’ Leroy said, grabbing the man by the shoulder and literally dragging him towards the door.

      ‘You OK?’ Roxy asked, walking over to where Angela was standing.

      ‘Yeah, just some old perv trying to grab me tits, that’s all.’

      ‘Come on. It’s gone half ten. Let’s take the trays back and go and freshen up, eh?’

      Angela followed Roxy back towards the bar area. ‘Oh, my God!’ she exclaimed, grabbing her pal’s arm.

      ‘What’s a matter now?’ Roxy asked her.

      ‘I’ve just seen Wayne Jackman,’ Angela replied, excitedly.

      ‘Is that the bloke your sister’s with?’ Roxy asked.

      ‘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,