replied, truthfully.
Stephanie felt her heart flip as Barry held her hand. Her nerves hadn’t embarrassed her so far today, but the feel of Barry’s warm hand pressing against her own felt like an electric shock entering her system. ‘Let’s have a fag,’ she said, snatching her hand away and riffling through her small silver shoulder bag.
‘What time you gotta be back later?’
‘Ten. Are we hanging about up here all day or going back to the Heathway later?’
‘Firstly, I’m gonna introduce you to the geezer I work for. Then, I’ll treat you to lunch. We can have a mooch up and down the market, then I’m gonna take you up to Bethnal Green to show you where I come from. Our last stop will be the Bishop Bonner pub. It’s where my dad drinks and I really want you to meet him.’
‘I can’t meet your dad, Bal. Say he tells your mum and then my mum finds out?’ Stephanie replied, horrified.
Tilting Stephanie’s chin upwards so that she made eye contact with him, Barry treated her to his killer smile. ‘Look, babe, I know you don’t want your mum to know that we’ve been out together and I can understand why. No one wants their daughter associated with a muvver like mine, but my dad’s a good geezer. He’s gotta go away for a while next week and, seeing as you’re the first girl I’ve ever really liked, I’d be well chuffed if you’d meet him. He’ll adore you, I know he will.’
Stephanie’s heart was pounding at twice its normal rate. Did Barry just say that she was the first girl he had ever really liked, or had her ears deceived her? ‘OK, I’ll meet him then,’ she croaked.
Wayne and Angela spent the whole afternoon at it like rabbits. After her initial painful experience, Angela had taken to sex like a duck takes to water and had even learnt the art of giving a blow job.
‘Suck it again for me, Ange. It’s your fault it keeps getting hard,’ Wayne said, bluntly.
Angela smiled. Wayne had told her earlier that she gave him the best sex he’d ever had and Angie liked to feel indispensable.
‘Do you love me, Jacko?’ she asked him coyly.
Desperate to feel her plump warm lips around his penis again, Wayne nodded. ‘Yeah, of course I love you, babe.’
Stephanie Crouch shook hands with Barry’s boss, Steve. Most Indian people Steph had met before, including the two boys in her class at school, were very reserved, kept themselves to themselves and spoke in weird accents, but Steve was entirely different. He was loud, funny and sounded more cockney than she did. When Barry had first told her he was a fly pitcher, Steph hadn’t quite understood the occupation. She hadn’t wanted to ask in case she made herself look silly, but now she knew exactly what Barry did. A fly pitcher was someone who hadn’t been given a pitch by the council so stood on a street corner selling their wares. Steve and Barry sold kingsize bath towels, and Barry would act as a look-out for the police and market inspectors while Steve used his witty sales patter to charm the public.
‘Do you ever get caught?’ Steph asked, as they said goodbye to Steve.
‘Nah, and even if we do we only get a slap on the wrists. Got eyes in the back of me head, me,’ Barry replied, laughing.
Stephanie smiled broadly as Barry held her hand again. Everybody knew him down Roman Road market and she could sense how popular he was with the other traders. ‘That’s a nice top, ain’t it?’ she said, pointing at an off-the-shoulder baggy red sweatshirt.
Barry dragged her over to the stall she was pointing at. ‘Bag me up one of them red sweatshirts please, Joanie,’ he ordered the lady who was serving.
‘I can’t let you buy that for me,’ Stephanie said, amazed by Barry’s generosity.
Handing Steph the sweatshirt in a carrier bag, Barry turned towards her. ‘I really do like you, Steph. Please say you’ll be my girl?’
Barely able to believe her luck, a completely besotted Stephanie nodded her head with
Stephanie felt her heart flip as Barry held her hand. Her nerves hadn’t embarrassed her so far today, but the feel of Barry’s warm hand pressing against her own felt like an electric shock entering her system. ‘Let’s have a fag,’ she said, snatching her hand away and riffling through her small silver shoulder bag.
‘What time you gotta be back later?’
‘Ten. Are we hanging about up here all day or going back to the Heathway later?’
‘Firstly, I’m gonna introduce you to the geezer I work for. Then, I’ll treat you to lunch. We can have a mooch up and down the market, then I’m gonna take you up to Bethnal Green to show you where I come from. Our last stop will be the Bishop Bonner pub. It’s where my dad drinks and I really want you to meet him.’
‘I can’t meet your dad, Bal. Say he tells your mum and then my mum finds out?’ Stephanie replied, horrified.
Tilting Stephanie’s chin upwards so that she made eye contact with him, Barry treated her to his killer smile. ‘Look, babe, I know you don’t want your mum to know that we’ve been out together and I can understand why. No one wants their daughter associated with a muvver like mine, but my dad’s a good geezer. He’s gotta go away for a while next week and, seeing as you’re the first girl I’ve ever really liked, I’d be well chuffed if you’d meet him. He’ll adore you, I know he will.’
Stephanie’s heart was pounding at twice its normal rate. Did Barry just say that she was the first girl he had ever really liked, or had her ears deceived her? ‘OK, I’ll meet him then,’ she croaked.
Wayne and Angela spent the whole afternoon at it like rabbits. After her initial painful experience, Angela had taken to sex like a duck takes to water and had even learnt the art of giving a blow job.
‘Suck it again for me, Ange. It’s your fault it keeps getting hard,’ Wayne said, bluntly.
Angela smiled. Wayne had told her earlier that she gave him the best sex he’d ever had and Angie liked to feel indispensable.
‘Do you love me, Jacko?’ she asked him coyly.
Desperate to feel her plump warm lips around his penis again, Wayne nodded. ‘Yeah, of course I love you, babe.’
Stephanie Crouch shook hands with Barry’s boss, Steve. Most Indian people Steph had met before, including the two boys in her class at school, were very reserved, kept themselves to themselves and spoke in weird accents, but Steve was entirely different. He was loud, funny and sounded more cockney than she did. When Barry had first told her he was a fly pitcher, Steph hadn’t quite understood the occupation. She hadn’t wanted to ask in case she made herself look silly, but now she knew exactly what Barry did. A fly pitcher was someone who hadn’t been given a pitch by the council so stood on a street corner selling their wares. Steve and Barry sold kingsize bath towels, and Barry would act as a look-out for the police and market inspectors while Steve used his witty sales patter to charm the public.
‘Do you ever get caught?’ Steph asked, as they said goodbye to Steve.
‘Nah, and even if we do we only get a slap on the wrists. Got eyes in the back of me head, me,’ Barry replied, laughing.
Stephanie smiled broadly as Barry held her hand again. Everybody knew him down Roman Road market and she could sense how popular he was with the other traders. ‘That’s a nice top, ain’t it?’ she said, pointing at an off-the-shoulder baggy red sweatshirt.
Barry dragged her over to the stall she was pointing at. ‘Bag me up one of them red sweatshirts please, Joanie,’ he ordered the lady who was serving.
‘I can’t let you buy that for me,’ Stephanie said, amazed by Barry’s generosity.
Handing Steph the sweatshirt in a carrier bag, Barry turned towards her. ‘I really do like you, Steph. Please say you’ll be my girl?’
Barely able to believe her luck, a completely besotted Stephanie nodded her head with
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