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Jack Johnson had somehow managed to get him back out on the pavement, he still felt he had got off too easy. Keith Smith might not have been his favourite person, but he knew the stripper had just been a joke. Normally he would have seen the humour of the situation, but last night it was as if he had been possessed by a devil. As his dad said, that’s why it was called the ‘demon drink’! He felt so embarrassed, and the worst thing of all was he had shown himself up in front of Sharon’s family. Her mum wasn’t exactly his biggest fan as it was – now she would use this against him at every opportunity. He closed his eyes in distress.
    The music started and he opened them to see Sharon walking down the aisle towards him. He could sense the fear and disappointment in her lovely blue eyes. Well, that was it now – he wouldn’t be drinking again any time soon, he swore that to everyone in his orbit. As Lionel Richie sang ‘Hello’, Lenny looked into his bride’s face and hoped against hope that she could see the genuine sorrow there.

Chapter Eight

    Lesley Scott was eating a small plate of sandwiches and she felt like she was chewing on sawdust. The fact that her son, her Lenny, had been able to inflict that kind of damage on another human being had really hit her hard. As she looked around the Irish club in Ilford, at the young ones dancing, and the older ones settled at tables with large drinks before them, she felt the urge to scream. Oh, Ivy Conway would be loving this! She had not wanted this wedding, but then, neither had Lesley really. But Lenny was besotted with young Sharon, and she was a good girl – she couldn’t take that away from her. Hopefully she would be a steadying influence on her son. Like her husband, Lesley blamed the drink for Lenny’s actions. Lenny was like her: she had never liked alcohol, not the taste nor the feeling of abandonment it gave to a body. Coming from Irish stock, she knew the trouble it could cause if you got a liking for it. It destroyed people’s lives.
    She looked around sadly. Her husband was propping up the bar with Jack Johnson and his other cronies. He had a large Scotch in his hand and he was laughing loudly. It was as if last night had never happened. She was pleased to note her son was drinking a shandy. She had not been looking forward to this day; if she was honest, she didn’t hold out much hope for these two. For all their proclamations of undying love and affection, they were just kids playing at grown-ups, as Ivy Conway had succinctly put it. But Lesley nailed a smile on her face – after last night’s debacle she was determined to front this out. She saw young Sharon slip her arms around her new husband’s waist, and watched as he smiled gently and kissed her, holding her to him tightly. For some reason the sight made Lesley feel tearful. She was a nice lass, young Sharon.
    The Irish club was packed by eleven o’clock, and even though he hated the fact, Lenny could see he was being hailed as a hard man for his antics the night before. Keith Smith wasn’t a popular guy – he’d rubbed too many people up the wrong way.
    He was relieved that everything had gone off very well, considering. Sharon looked lovely in her white dress; it was simple but it suited her down to the ground. She was a great little dresser, was his Shaz, and she had the figure for anything. The dress, which had been purchased from a stylish new shop in Ilford, fitted her like a glove and, even though there was nothing revealing, she looked sexy. She wasn’t showing yet, but her breasts had filled out nicely. Lenny felt the pull of her, and decided it was time they went back to the flat; he was looking forward to his wedding night. He watched her with her friends, dancing to Wham! and he felt a surge of pride. She was his wife, she was having his baby, and he loved her.
    Jack Johnson came up to him and pulled his arm gently. Lenny followed him out into the night air, nervous