Billie Jo

by Kimberley Chambers

  Dave looked at Chelle as though she was a piece of shit he'd just stepped in. 'Don't be so fucking stupid, Chelle. As if I'd lie at a time like this. For your information, I went on a bender and stayed at Maxie's boozer.'

  This was partly true. Dave had spent twenty-four hours shagging the old slapper he'd pulled and the following day back in Maxie's pub doing his best to catch Colombian flu.

  Billie could feel the tears spilling from her eyes again. 'I just know something bad must have happened to Dad. What are we going to do, Dave?'

  Dave put his arm round her and hugged her tightly. 'Don't worry, Bill. He'll be fine, you'll see,' he said, not really believing it himself. He also now felt that something bad must have happened to Terry.

  'Oh, stop blubbing, Bill, for Christ's sake,' Chelle piped up.

  Dave looked at Chelle in horror. 'Don't have a go at her. She's a kid, and her dad's gone missing. She's got every right to be fucking upset.'

  'Whatever,' Chelle replied in a stroppy tone.

  Pearl started to howl like a wounded animal. 'Jesus, Mary and holy Saint Joseph, you've taken my wonderful husband from me, please don't take my firstborn son.'

  Chelle gave her mother-in-law daggers. 'For fuck's sake, Pearl, don't start Bible-punching. Give it a rest. Your wonderful husband used to knock the living daylights out of you, or have you forgotten that?'

  'You are one nasty piece of work, Michelle. My Terry could have had any woman he wanted, and what he saw in you I'll never know.'

  'Why don't you and Bridie fuck off upstairs or go for a walk or something? This is my house and I've suffered you long enough, so get out of my sight.'

  Pearl stood up and looked at her daughter-in-law with pure hatred. Grabbing Bridie's arm, the pair of them marched upstairs out of harm's way.

  Dave sat opposite Chelle and Billie pondering what to do next. 'I know Terry wouldn't want us to, but I think our only option is to phone the Old Bill.'

  'I don't want them coming round here,' Chelle slurred.

  'Well, I'll go down the station and report him missing then,' Dave replied.

  Chelle was just about to answer, but was silenced by the doorbell.

  Billie jumped up as quick as a flash. 'I'll get it, Mum.' As she opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of two sombre-looking policemen.

  'Hello, love. I'm DC Adams and this is PC Fortune. Is your mum there please?'

  Billie noticed her whole body shaking from head to foot. 'Mum,' she said, her voice quivering as she spoke. 'There's some policemen here to see you.'

  Davey Mullins dashed into the hallway and led them into the living room. Chelle felt an all-round chill of fear as she stood opposite the two coppers.

  'You might be better sitting down, love,' DC Adams said, removing his hat. 'I'm afraid I have some bad news for you and your family, Mrs Keane.'

  Michelle could feel her body give way as she collapsed onto the sofa. 'Go and get me a bottle of wine out of the fridge, Bill. I need a drink.'

  Billie ran out of the room and sprinted into the garden. She sat on the bench sobbing hysterically with her hands over her ears. She couldn't be in the same room if bad news was about to be told. She looked up to the sky. 'Please, God, just make him be OK. Even if he's seriously injured, please make him be alive,' she whispered.

  Michelle looked at the two Old Bill. 'Look, before you tell me anything bad, I need to get a drink.' After retrieving her wine from the fridge and downing half the bottle in one go, Chelle sat back down. 'He's dead, isn't he?' she asked.

  PC Fortune put a comforting arm around her. 'I'm so sorry, Mrs Keane. He was involved in an accident. We don't think there are any suspicious circumstances, it's just one of those unexplainable things. His car was found this morning at the bottom of a ditch by a man walking his dog. He was already dead when we arrived at the scene. Due to the extent of his injuries we would advise you not to see the body, although we will need someone to formally identify him.'

  Dave nodded. 'I'm his best friend, I'll do it.'

  Michelle sat in a daze. She felt like she was in the middle of a bad dream and would wake up any minute. Dave was distraught, Terry was his best pal, his mucker, the whole thing was a fucking nightmare. After sitting there for a further half-hour offering words of comfort, the two Old Bill got up to leave. Michelle sat in silence, unable to take in what had happened.

  DC Adams spoke directly to Davey Mullins. 'We can see Mrs Keane is in a state of shock and we've still got a few things on the case to sort before we can wrap it up. What we'll do is send somebody around tomorrow to have a chat and maybe sort out some counselling for the family. There will also be some of her husband's belongings to be returned, but we can't do that until the case is actually closed.'

  Dave thanked the officers, saw them out and shut the door. Pouring himself a large brandy, he sat down opposite Chelle. 'You better go upstairs and tell his mother, Chelle. I'll go and find Billie and break the news to her.'

  Chelle topped up her glass. The shock had sobered her up. 'I'm not in the mood for that old cow. You go and tell his mother and I'll tell Billie.'

  Dave would much rather have been the one to tell Billie, but he could hardly argue with Chelle. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he went upstairs to break the news to Terry's mum and aunt. Their blood-curdling screams could be heard half a mile away!

  Chelle found Billie sitting on a log down at the bottom of the garden. Looking fearfully at her mother she asked the dreaded question. 'Is he OK, Mum? He will be all right, won't he?'

  Billie knew the moment her mother put her arms around her that her father was dead. Her mother had never cuddled her in the fifteen and a half years she'd been on this earth, so she immediately knew bad news was to follow.

  'It was a car accident, Bill. He was already dead when the police got there. Let's go inside, love. It's freezing out here and you've got no coat on. You'll catch pneumonia sitting out here.'

  Sobbing, Billie shook with shock. 'It's not him, Mum, it can't be. They've made a mistake, they must have. It's not Daddy, it's not him. I know it's not him.'

  Michelle wandered back into the house and poured herself and Dave another drink. Pearl was still upstairs with Bridie, screaming blue murder. Handing Dave his brandy, Chelle sat opposite him at the kitchen table.

  'You're going to have to sort out return tickets or a hotel or something for them two upstairs. I can't have them round me no more, Dave, and they probably won't want to go back home till after his funeral.'

  Dave looked at Chelle and realised just what a callous bitch she really was. Her husband had just died and she hadn't even shed a tear. All she was bothered about was getting rid of the two old biddies upstairs. Keeping his thoughts to himself, Dave decided to take Pearl and Bridie to a local hotel first thing in the morning. They'd be better off away from Chelle; at least that way, they could grieve in peace.

  Dave's main concern was Billie Jo. He felt so sorry for the poor little fucker, her old man had been her life. 'Where's Billie, Chelle?'

  'She's in the garden. She wanted to be on her own.'

  Dave found Billie staring lifelessly into the swimming pool.

  'Billie, I'm so sorry, love. I really don't know what to say to you. He idolised you, your father, and I want you to know, whatever happens, I'll always be about for you.'

  Sobbing, Billie threw herself against the hardness of Dave's chest.

  'My dad was the best dad in the world. Why did this have to happen, Dave? I don't believe in God any more. He doesn't exist, I know he doesn't.'

  Trying to find the right words to comfort her wasn't easy for Dave. All he could do was try his best.

  'Life ain't fair, Bill. I loved your dad. He was my best pal and I'm gonna miss him big style. You've got to be strong, girl. He loved you more than anything and you have to be strong for his sake.'

  Sobbing, Billie pulled away from him.

  'I can't. If he's dead, I want to die too. I can't live without him, I just know I can
't.'

  Lost for words, Dave squeezed her hand.

  Taking off his jacket, he put it round her shoulders and made her sip some of his brandy to warm her up. Leading her back into the warmth of the house, he sat her down and suggested that she go and stay at Tiffany's. He knew without a doubt that she'd get far more love and kindness there than she would in her own home.

  Dave rang Tiffany's parents and explained the situation. He was relieved when they welcomed Billie with open arms, insisting that she could stay as long as she wanted. Dave dropped Billie off early in the evening, and then he took Pearl and Bridie to a nearby hotel. They'd insisted on going straight away, as they'd both said they couldn't spend another night under the same roof as Michelle. Popping back round to Chelle's, Dave was relieved to see that Hazel, her best mate, had come round to stay with her. Clocking they were on the piss, Dave felt he'd done his duty and said his goodbyes. 'I'll pop round tomorrow, Chelle. If you need anything before then ring me.'

  'Thanks, Dave.' Chelle didn't know how she felt as he left the house. She was glad Hazel was there, as while she had company she wouldn't have to examine her true feelings.

  Michelle knew that she'd truly loved Terry and even though their relationship had been on the rocks for a long time, her heart was with him, it always had been. An awful part of her felt relief. She wasn't silly and knew that in time he'd have left her and she'd rather him be dead than suffer the humiliation of being publicly dumped.

  The gruesome task of identifying his best pal's body left Dave heartbroken and shellshocked.

  Sitting in his Shogun, he rested his forehead on the steering wheel and cried. He'd had to be strong all day for everyone else's sake; now it was his turn to grieve. Terry's injuries had looked dreadful and Dave had heaved as he'd left the mortuary. Dreading what he had to do next, Dave scrolled through his phone. Jade had to be told and he was the only person in a position to tell her.

  He'd rather have told her face to face, but he was fucked if he was driving all the way to Somerset.

  Pacing up and down the room, Jade looked at the clock. The past couple of days had been just dreadful and she knew something had to be wrong. Being in Somerset wasn't helping. At least if she was at home, she could have searched for him herself.

  Her gut instinct told her something awful had occurred. Terry would never blank her calls or not contact her. As she turned to her parents, she prayed that there was a simple explanation.

  'Will you take me home first thing tomorrow? I need to be local in case something's happened to him.'

  Mary and Lenny glanced at one another and nodded. They feared the worst but didn't want to comment.

  Jade picked up her mobile and dialled Terry's number for what seemed like the thousandth time. His answerphone, yet again. Wondering if the police had finally caught up with him, she sat down, put her head in her hands and cried.

  Hearing her ringtone, she leapt up full of hope. Recognising the number, she spoke silently to God as she answered.

  'Dave, is that you? Have you heard anything yet?'

  'I think you'd better sit down, Jade.'

  Jade felt the colour drain out of her face as she sat on her parents' armchair. 'What's happened to him, Dave? Please tell me he's OK, he is isn't he?'

  'I'm really sorry to have to be the one to tell you, Jade, but he was involved in a fatal accident Boxing Night. The police reckon he probably died instantly. He was found early . . .'

  Jade collapsed before Dave had finished the sentence.

  NINE

  Michelle spent the next couple of days going through the motions. Hazel hadn't left her side and was staying with her till further notice. Suzie, Julie and numerous other well-wishers had called in to offer help and pay their respects. All in all, Chelle seemed to be coping pretty well considering the circumstances.

  Billie was still staying at her friend's house, which suited Chelle down to the ground as she didn't have a clue how to comfort her. She'd never been very good at the emotional side of motherhood, and it was too late to start now. Anyway, why should Billie soak up all the sympathy? It was her husband that had died, therefore it was her people should be feeling sorry for, becoming a widow at such a young age. Chelle spent the next two days constantly drinking, sleeping, laughing, crying and reminiscing. It was on the third day that things began to go haywire.

  Two coppers arrived early in the morning to inform her that the case was now closed. Apparently, Terry had been over the limit and had tested positive to traces of a class A drug found in his system. Michelle couldn't believe it. She might be a pisshead, but she'd never had any time for drugs and she certainly had never had an inkling that her husband took them. Chelle was told that Terry's body was now ready to be released and was asked if she'd like some counselling.

  'Do I look like someone who needs to sit and discuss my business with a complete fucking stranger?' Chelle replied angrily. Snatching the bag of belongings that had been inside Terry's car, she ushered the Old Bill out of her house.

  Chelle got straight on the phone to Davey Mullins and asked him if he could sort out all of the funeral arrangements. She was no good at anything formal and wouldn't know what she had to do or where to start. Dave agreed to see to the whole thing including registering the death, choosing the coffin, hymns, a speech, the wake and the caterers.

  Truth be known, he wasn't doing it for Chelle, he was doing it for Terry and Billie. If he left Chelle to organise it, she was bound to make a cock-up and he wanted his best pal's funeral to go without a hitch. It was the least he could do, as they went back years and had been more like brothers than friends.

  Chelle opened the bag that the police had left in her possession and she and Hazel began rifling through it. It contained all the usual shit that was shoved in a glove box. Sunglasses, CDs, chewing gum, a lighter, loose change and Terry's mobile phone, which looked surprisingly intact.

  Hazel poured herself and Chelle a large vodka and sat down opposite her friend.

  'Why don't you charge the phone up, Chelle, and see if it's working? If it is you might find out who his bit on the side was. She's bound to have contacted him if she hadn't heard from him. Or would you rather not know now and just remember the good times?'

  Chelle looked at her friend and shrugged. 'I don't know, what do you reckon? Oh fuck it, I'd rather know, I think. It's not as though he can run off with her now and leave me with nothing, is it? I might as well know the truth.'

  Plugging the phone into the charger, Chelle noticed the signal on the front, and felt a mixture of fear and excitement. Terry had always left his mobile in his car, either that or it was in his pocket, and it was the first time she'd ever been able to get her hands on it. Stuffing a handful of peanuts into her mouth, she turned to Hazel. 'It's charging, how long shall I give it?'

  Hazel jumped up excitedly to check it was actually working. 'Let's give it half an hour or so. We'll have a good drink first to prepare ourselves for the outcome.'

  Billie Jo stared at the Chinese takeaway and politely excused herself from the table. Tiffany and her family had been wonderful, but she desperately needed some time alone. There wasn't a word in the dictionary to describe just how she felt right now. Devastated, distraught, heartbroken, they barely scratched the surface.

  Her father's death was all her fault. If only she'd spent Boxing Night with him, like he'd wanted her to, he'd still be alive now.

  Shoulders slouched, she made her way into the living room. The silence was welcoming. The decorated tree reminded her of how Christmas used to be her favourite time of year. The trip to Lapland, visiting Santa's Grotto at Harrods. Her dad and Davey Mullins had even organised a surprise Christmas party one year, where they'd dressed up and entertained all her friends. Billie wiped her eyes. It upset her too much to think about her wonderful dad. She needed to forget, lock the past inside her broken heart. That was the only way she could even begin to cope.

  A few miles away, Jade was going through the self-same
motions as Billie. Returning to Romford and her memory-filled flat had made her feel giddy with pain. If it hadn't been for her unborn child, she was sure that she would have ended it all. By taking her own life, she would have been with him, been able to tell him all the little things that she was so desperate to say.

  Worried about her mental state, her parents had insisted on staying with her. She hadn't wanted them to, as being alone was the only way she could even attempt to grieve.

  Escaping into the loneliness of her bedroom, she lay down and cried like never before. The sheets bore his DNA. His scent was apparent and she immediately vowed never to wash them again. They would be put away, stored as a keepsake of the man who had been so cruelly taken from her.

  Chelle got a bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured herself and Hazel a large glass. She'd been on the vodka all day but it wasn't touching her. She needed to feel like she'd had a drink to listen to Terry's messages and wine always worked wonders for her. Part of her pondered if she was doing the right thing. Did she really want to know who her husband had been knocking off?

  She'd been surprisingly calm since the news of Terry's death. Partly because she'd been permanently pissed and partly because she was relieved that he hadn't run off with his fancy bit. She would have hated being left a penniless laughing stock. His death was a tragedy, but at least she had the sympathy vote and financial security. Terry had taken out a life insurance policy years ago to take care of his family if anything were to happen to him.

  Snapping herself out of her daydream, Chelle took the phone off the charger, switched it on and watched it flick into life. It frantically let out a series of bleeps, indicating the many answerphone messages that had been left. Chelle handed the phone to Hazel and topped her wine glass up. 'I can't listen to them, mate, you're going to have to do it.'

  Hazel shoved the phone to her ear and pressed the appropriate button. The first few messages gave away nothing. One was from a pissed-up Dave from Maxie's pub, one from some other geezer called Joe and one from Benny Bones. It was when Hazel got to messages four, five and six that things started to liven up. Jade had left all three. She'd left them the morning after Terry had texted her outside Maxie's pub.