Broke by Mandasue Heller Page B

embarrassing me.’
    ‘That’s my job,’ Gerry chuckled. ‘You should be used to it by now.’
    ‘Behave,’ his wife scolded, stepping forward and giving Steve the once-over. ‘I’m Janice – mother of the bride.’
    ‘Oh, my God !’ squealed Layla, a look of mortification on her face.
    ‘Hi.’ Smiling, Steve offered his hand to Janice. But she was having none of that.
    ‘It’s so lovely to meet you at last,’ she gushed, pulling him into a hug. ‘Layla’s told me all about you.’
    ‘All good, I hope?’
    ‘Do you think I’d be hugging you if it wasn’t? I’d be setting Gerry on you.’
    Mark smirked as he watched his friend being sucked into the family like a long-lost relative. Poor sod didn’t know what he was letting himself in for. The dad looked like he’d stepped straight off the set of The Sopranos and the mum was like a middle-aged Barbie, all fake tan, peroxide hair and killer boobs. Layla was very pretty, though, he’d give Steve that.
    ‘Right, we’d best get moving before they give our table away,’ said Gerry. ‘Nice to meet you.’ He gave Mark a nod before climbing back into the car.
    Janice smiled and walked back round to her side, while Steve held the back door open for Layla – giving Mark a look of terror before climbing in beside her.
    Mark maintained his smile as he watched the car drive away, but his heart felt like a lump of lead in his chest. It had taken a lot for him to swallow his pride and come begging to Steve. But he’d promised Amy that he would get some money and none of his other mates had any, so he’d had no choice.
    He lit one of the cigarettes that Steve had given him and started walking slowly home. It was the last place he wanted to go, because he and Amy had been tearing lumps out of each other all day and he’d had a gutful of it. He’d already admitted that he’d fucked up by getting the sack, and he was trying his best to rectify it. Hell, he’d been down to the job centre so many times in the last month that he was surprised they hadn’t set up a bed for him. But that wasn’t good enough for Amy. According to her, he was useless . . . useless husband, useless dad, useless excuse for a man.
    As he mentally replayed the argument they’d been having just before he walked out, Mark’s anger began to resurface. Amy had never had a job in her life, and yet she had the cheek to call him a loser just because he was temporarily out of work. Well, she’d better watch out, because his luck was bound to change before too long. And when it did and she came running to him for money, he was going to tell her right where to shove it.
    Almost home by now, he stopped at the corner and stared down the road towards his house. If he went in without the money Amy would go off her nut and they would end up having another barney – and he would end up walking out again. It was as inevitable as night following day, and the only way to avoid it was by not going home in the first place.
    Decided, he did an abrupt about-turn and strode off in the opposite direction.
    Jenny hadn’t felt well when she woke that morning, so she’d stayed in bed and had spent the day watching TV, reading magazines, and generally feeling sorry for herself.
    Restless after her soaps had finished in the evening, she got up and had a bath, then wandered into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. She was just making her way back to bed when the doorbell rang. Cautious, because she didn’t usually get visitors at night, she crept down the stairs and peeked through the spyhole. A man was standing on the step, but he had his back turned so she couldn’t see his face.
    ‘Who is it?’ she called through the wood.
    ‘Er, hi . . . it’s me – Mark.’ He turned and looked at the spyhole. When she didn’t respond after a few seconds, he frowned. ‘Sorry, is this a bad time?’
    ‘No, it’s fine!’ Jenny blurted out, snapping out of the trance she’d gone into at the unexpected