This is the fourth part of a fiction serial, in 751 words.
Before Becky, there were a couple of others. We flashed our money around back then, and could often take our pick of the Essex girls who were also hanging around after work, or sometimes the posh birds looking for a bit of rough. I got regular with a girl named Charly who it turned out lived quite close to me. I thought her name was short for Charlotte at first, but it turned out her parents had actually called her Charly.
She was big on fake tan and tattoos, and spent over half her salary on beauty treatments and clothes. Her parents treated her like an Essex princess, and she acted like one too. I had learned to drive in college, and finally had enough money to get a car. But it sat on the driveway of the house all week, as it was no good even thinking about driving into work. So I used it at weekends to take Charly around, and her destination of choice was usually Lakeside shopping centre, or the snazzy one called Bluewater, across the river in Kent.
It seemed perfectly normal for her to want to spend every date in a shopping mall, as we could also see a film, and have a meal there. But getting together for sex was tricky. No chance in her house, and awkard in mine, even though I knew they wouldn’t say anything if she stopped over. So it had to be a quickie in the car, mostly in the sports ground car park near where I lived. Then after six months, her dad had a word with me about where we were going to live when we got married. He was thinking about an extension over the garage, he told me, and said it was ours if we wanted it.
I ran a mile after that. Well not literally, I worked out a plan for her to chuck me. Started by saying I wasn’t well and missing two dates. Then forgetting to ring her when I said I would. I waited to deliver the killer blow one night when I left her at home waiting for me to pick her up. When I was half an hour late, she rang me, and I said I had to meet an old mate. Well, a princess like her isn’t going to be messed about, so she told me. And at least I gave her the satisfaction of being able to convince herself she broke up with me.
That did make me realise something though. I needed my own place. I earned enough to get a mortgage, and I had the ten percent deposit saved, as my mum never took anything off me for living at home. She said she wouldn’t, as long as I saved it up for something sensible. Well a one-bedroom starter home in Beckton was sensible enough, and that was what I bought. My own dedicated parking space, open-plan ground floor with a small patio garden, and a bedroom with en-suite upstairs. Then I could get the DLR into work, and have an extra twenty minutes in bed.
My parents helped with furniture and stuff, and my dad took a week off to paint all the walls and ceilings for me. My first night alone in my own house felt really weird. I sat out on the patio and ate a pizza from its box, washed down with two beers. Beckton was a soulless development, with little going for it. But it would do me for now.
I found out that fending for myself was bloody expensive. Electric bills, council tax, water rates, all on top of the mortgage. I stopped eating out after work, and started to be careful with money for the first time in my life. The guys in the office ribbed me about not going out for beers, but I knew that would end up with a meal, maybe a club, then a taxi home. I might be able to do that once a month, but not four nights a week, like those guys. Of course, they did most of it on credit cards, but if I used a card to buy anything, the debt started to play on my mind.
I settled for lonely nights in front of the telly, and Sunday dinners at my parents’ house. They praised me up for being sensible, but I felt like I had already given up, and got old before my time.
Then I met Justina.
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford.
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This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting…all the better! Best to you, Pete.
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This is a different journey for me, Jennie. Relationships, pure and simple. Little drama, and no murders or crimes.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Yes, it is different for you, and you’re always up for that challenge. Best to you, Pete.
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Reading this story i always have a smile on my lips. 😉 Dats in shopping malls are often very expensive, and fake tan seems to be a kind of addiction in Great Britain, right? But what is an Essex princess? This was the first time I had read this.
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Michael, they are girls who wear llots of make-up, come from families with money, but are very ‘low-class’ in style and attitude. We even have a TV show about them!
https://heatworld.com/entertainment/tv-movies/towie-stars-then-and-now/
Fake tan and tattoos on women is out of control here! 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Sounds crazy, but in the UK you have more world orientend citizens too. 😉 Wearaing a tatoo here is not compatible to the regularity of the Roman-Catholic Church. Lol Thank you for the link.
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Just a thought Pete as I am working my way through the serial, it would be easier if you put the serial title in a tag. I’m having to scroll through all your posts to find the next episode. I am enjoying this one though.
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Jude, just type ‘Becky’ in the search box. Brings up all episodes. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete. x
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Did that eventually, but you could still add the titles as a tag, it’s often a long way to scroll to the end where the search box is 😁
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Okay, will try to remember to tag ‘Becky’. 🙂
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😊
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I am enjoying this story, Pete.
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It’s good to know that, Margie. Especially when the subject is an experiment for me. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I now have a new understanding of the word “serial” Apparently we all live serial lives, Warmest regards, Theo
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My life feels like a serial that nobody has yet written the last episode to. So I agree. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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So, you are not living forward to the ending that you “know” exists. 🙂 Warmest regards, Theo
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It would feel strange to know that, wouldn’t it? I think I will settle for the ‘surprise’? 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Young people have no idea how important cars were for our romantic endeavors! Good thing(except for the sports car here) they had very big back seats.
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Why do readers think Frankie had a sports car? I never mentioned any details about the car. They drove to the ‘sports field car park’ to have sex. Has that caused the confusion, I wonder? 🙂 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Yes I totally misread that phrase.
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(1) Are there posh birds looking for a bit of rough in Hoe Rough? I’m asking for a friend.
(2) Does Charly work in a chocolate factory?
(3a) It’s tricky getting together with a sexy Essex girl for sex.
(3b) It’s okay to have a quickie in a parked sports car, but I advise taking it slow if the car is moving.
(4) “Then after six months, her dad had a word with me about where we were going to live when we got married.” He quickly shot down Frankie’s idea of moving into a flat in Spencer House.
(5) “Started by saying I wasn’t well and missing two dates.” However, that excuse wasn’t worth a fig.
(6) “I waited to deliver the killer blow one night…” Frankie should have waited for a Sunday morning. Also, he should have worn overalls and gloves.
(7) Frankie moved into a starter home in Beckton. That beckons the question: Did Becky move into that home at the start of the marriage?
(8) “…if I used a card to buy anything, the debt started to play on my mind.” My mind was once a busy playground for a pack of debts.
(9) Just a question: Is Justina into sadism?
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I hoped you might refer back to the previous serial. And you did. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I wonder if Charly’s dad had that little talk with you knowing full well it would drive you off? Very interesting story.
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A talk with Frankie, Peg. Not me. 🙂
(I never had an Essex girlfriend, or worked for a bank. 🙂 )
Best wishes, Pete.
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Great writing again, Pete…it’s always interesting to see the choices people make in life – and where those choices lead them.
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Yes it is. I made a few bad ones myself. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Ahh. The joys of home ownership!
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Comes as a shock, the first time! 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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All caught up. I was wondering about you, Pete. Your post were not showing up in my reader…Hmm…Anyway, he’s smart. I like the way he handled the Charly situation. Some guys would have gotten in on the bank roll, toiled under their father-in-law’s thumb and serially cheat on their wives. Of course, it’s early in the series so I shouldn’t make judgments.
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Feel free, Pam. I am pleased you are along for the ride. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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At least he didn’t move into Faulty Towers and come across Jeff. 🙂 Can’t wait to meet Justina!
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She arrives in the story tomorrow. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I’m really enjoying this series, Pete. I like the word building of the characters.
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Glad to hear that.
Thanks, Mary.
best wishes, Pete.
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Ha ha, Beckton. My grandfather used to live there – Second Avenue I think it was called. You always mention places I know!
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I went over to that development in 1985, when it was brand new. I was in the middle of a marriage split, and wanted to buy a starter house in Rotherhithe. The show houses were on that site to be viewed. It was vast! I bought one at Surrey Docks, on a much smaller development. You have probably heard of Gidea Park too. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Gidea Park, yes. We’ve been rattling around the same areas for years by the sound of it!
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East London/Essex was one area I never lived in, but know well from friends and relatives who did. Also from working all across London for most of my life. 🙂
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