Chelle sat through the service with gritted teeth. She was surreptitiously knocking back the small bottle of whisky that she'd tucked away in her handbag. She would have loved to stand up when Father Peter was rambling on about what a kind, wonderful father and husband Terry had been. She'd have liked to have told the mourners what a no-good, drug-taking, womanising bastard he really was, but Hazel had stopped her. Chelle had laughed as the music started to play. 'I fell into a burning ring of fire' tickled Chelle's warped sense of humour. 'Shame the cunt wasn't cremated,' she said to Hazel. Nudging her, Hazel had shot her a look, urging her to behave herself. In all truthfulness she hadn't really listened to much of the actual service. She'd been too busy scanning the crowds in the church, to see if she could spot the no-good slut of a secretary. Luckily for Jade, she couldn't see hide nor hair of her. She was glad she'd listened to Hazel. Putting on a front was the only way and Bette Davis couldn't have acted any better than she had today.
Father Peter smiled as he led the congregation outside for the actual burial. He was enjoying himself immensely today. He loved a packed church and a big funeral, the busier the better. Father Peter had a secret obsession with death. In his eyes, a good send-off was better than an orgasm. Who needed sex when death was on the menu? He was positive that the deceased would shortly be moving on to a much better life than this one. Oh, yes, death made him a very happy man indeed. In fact, he was quite looking forward to his own passing over.
Billie stood sobbing at the opposite side of the grave to her mother. She was being comforted by Tiff and her mum, Karen. Chelle's face was like thunder. Billie should be standing next to her, for Christ's sake. What must all the girls from the gym think with her daughter cuddling up to some complete bloody stranger?
'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' Father Peter was in his element.
Glancing over to her right, Chelle noticed a lone figure, partially hidden behind a tree. Immediately realising it was Jade, she failed to contain herself. 'Oi, you fucking slag,' she screamed.
Father Peter looked up in horror. This wasn't part of the plan. Hazel tried to grab her friend but Chelle was having none of it. 'Let me go, Hazel. I mean it, if it was your Stan, you'd do the same thing.'
Billie ran round to her mother's side of the grave, pushing the crowd away in the process. Grabbing Chelle by the shoulders, she pleaded with her. 'Mum, please don't do this, not today. I loved my dad. How dare you ruin this day for him?'
Chelle had her Rottweiler expression on now, like a dog that's had its bone taken away. 'Leave it, Bill. This has fuck all to do with you.'
'Mum, you're drunk. Please don't make a show of us. We're at a place of worship.'
Chelle pushed her daughter out of the way, but as she did, she lost her balance. Catching one of her Jimmy Choo's in the mud, she tried in vain to steady herself.
Father Peter didn't know what to do. If a crisis happens, just carry on, that is what his superiors had always told him. 'In the name of the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost.'
At that precise moment with her arms flailing wildly, Chelle fell backwards into the grave and landed on top of her dead husband's coffin.
'Oh bejesus, my poor boy,' Pearl screamed.
'Oh, for fuck's sake.' Davey Mullins was furious. He couldn't believe it. As if it weren't bad enough that she'd shown Terry up many times while he was alive, Michelle now had the audacity to do it while he was lying six feet under. Well that was it now, she wouldn't get any more help off him. He'd help Billie. He'd help Jade if she needed it, but Chelle could go to hell as far as he was concerned.
Billie stood frozen to the spot while she watched the two men trying to push her mother's fat arse out of the grave. One was pulling her arms and one was standing on top of her dad's coffin, trying to push her from behind. Tiffany cuddled Billie. Sensing the girl's obvious distress, Tiff 's parents put an arm either side of her and led her away from the embarrassing scene.
'Come on, Billie.' Tim's voice was soft. 'Let's get you home, darling. You can come and stay with us tonight.' Billie felt like a robot as she impassively followed her friend's parents into the car park.
Jade bolted back to the car as fast as her legs would take her.
'Drive,' she screamed. 'Quick, just fucking drive, will you?'
Shocked at their daughter's mental state and language, her parents drove off in complete and utter silence.
After a ten-minute struggle, Chelle was finally pushed out of the hole and landed on even ground. Her Armani suit was covered in mud, she'd lost a shoe and looked like shit.
Father Peter tried to smooth over the situation. Wrapping up the service, he turned to the congregation. 'Now I'd like you all to know, Michelle will get over this. Time is a great healer. I've seen this many times where couples can't bear to be parted. Michelle loved her husband, Terry, very much and that's why she feels so strongly about joining him.'
Hazel tried to brush the mud off Chelle's suit. 'Come on, Chelle, let's go home to mine. The girls will come with us, we'll have a drink back there. Let's not bother with the wake, eh?'
Davey Mullins had hired out one side of a pub with an adjoining hall. It was a little boozer he and Terry had drunk in on occasions in Hornchurch. They knew Dickie the governor quite well and Dave had chosen it knowing that Dickie would do Terry proud.
Chelle looked all around the graveyard and knew in her heart that Jade was long gone. She'd fucking have her for this. It was her fault she'd fallen in the grave, and if that weren't bad enough, she'd lost one of her favourite shoes in the process.
Hazel looped arms with her friend. 'Come on, let's make a move. We'll have a bit of karaoke when we get in, if you like.'
Chelle felt like shit, but still managed to crack a smile. 'Back to yours sounds good, Hazel. Fuck the wake and fuck Terry. Let's go and party. I wish I could find my shoe, though.'
Hazel kept schtum. She'd noticed Chelle's shoe by the side of the coffin, but knew if she told her, Michelle would demand to climb back in and retrieve it. 'Don't worry, you're loaded now. Go and buy another pair tomorrow.'
With one shoe on and one shoe off, Chelle hobbled out of the cemetery. Cheryl, a pal of Chelle's who did a step class with her, was waiting in her people-carrier. Suddenly seeing the funny side of events, Chelle went into hysterical laughter. All the other girls soon joined in. Pulling out of the cemetery gates, Chelle unscrewed the whisky bottle and took a gulp. Leaving a drop in there, she put the top back on and threw it over the wall.
'Goodbye, Terry. Have a drink on me, you no-good fucking arsehole.'
ELEVEN
'Now, come on, Jade, you can't carry on like this, you've got to try to pull yourself together for the sake of the baby if nothing else.'
Kirsty Clark sat on the sofa next to her best friend and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. 'I know you don't think so now, Jade, but once the baby arrives, life will start getting better for you again.'
Jade stopped crying, dried her eyes with a tissue and gave her friend a half-smile. 'Maybe you're right. I've got to try and be strong. I just can't imagine life without him, Kirsty. He was my life and I loved him so much. I just can't see how I'm going to get through the birth and the rest of my life without him.'
It was a week to the day since Terry's funeral and Jade wasn't coping very well at all. Apart from the trip to the cemetery, today was the first day she had left her flat since arriving back from her parents' house.
After a week of going through the motions, she'd rung Kirsty this morning and asked if she could pop round to see her. Her friend had readily agreed.
'Thanks for the chat, Kirsty, it was good to talk to someone. I should be making a move now. I've got to go to Tesco's on the way home, I've no shopping indoors and I must force myself to eat for the baby's sake.'
Kirsty stood up and hugged her friend tightly. 'Do you want me to come shopping with you? Michael won't be in for another couple of hours, so I've got time.'
Jade picked up her handbag.
'No, don't worry, I'll be fine, mate, you see to Michael's dinner.'
Kirsty had recently moved in with a control freak called Michael who monitored her every move. Jade knew the score and didn't want to cause her friend any trouble. 'Well, if you're sure, Jade? I'm cooking Michael's favourite tonight, liver and bacon with onion gravy.'
Jade smiled politely. She thought Michael was a complete waste of space. 'Bye, Kirsty, and thanks for the coffee.'
Kirsty stood at the door to wave her friend off. 'Bye, Jade, take care. If you need anything don't hesitate to ring me.'
'You're very pretty. My name's Steve. What's yours?'
Looking at the spotty boy, Billie felt like curling up into a little ball and dying. Her life wasn't worth living any more and being polite was totally out of the question. Ignoring him, she nudged Tiff.
'I'm not ready for this. I'm going home.'
'Don't be boring, Bill. We've only just got here, you can't go yet.'
'Oh yes I can.'
Shrugging her shoulders, Tiff let her go. She loved Billie, but they weren't joined at the hip.
The silence in the cab suited Billie. Paying the driver, she walked up the path and put her key in the lock.
'Billie. Come in here. I wanna talk to you.'
Hearing Patsy Cline and her mum's drunken tones, Billie shuddered. Chelle had barely spoken to her since the day of the funeral. Cautiously, Billie went into the lounge and leant against the armchair.
'All right, Mum?'
'Sit down. Come on, sit here and have a drink with your mum.'
Accepting the glass of wine that was thrust her way, Billie sipped it out of politeness. Her mum was slurring and she didn't want to get on the wrong side of her.
'Where you been?' Chelle uttered.
'Bowling.' Snarling, Chelle cranked the music up and turned to her.
'Listen to "Crazy" with me, Bill. Written for me this was.' Chelle gulped at her wine, then put her glass down and started to sing.
'I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted and then someday you'd leave me for somebody new.'
Turning to face her daughter, Chelle tried to focus on her.
'That's your father for you. Made me a laughing stock, he has. All the girls down the gym know what he did to me.'
Noticing her mother's tears, Billie put her arm awkwardly around her shoulder. 'Don't cry, Mum.'
Pushing her away, Chelle turned on her.
'Don't cry! Don't fucking cry! This is all your fault, Billie, you and that slag of a secretary. I know you fucking knew and you didn't think to tell me. See me, I'm being laughed at, like the village idiot. You should have told me, Bill. I will never forgive you for that. You're no daughter of mine, never have been and never will be.'
Shocked at her mum's venomous words, Billie jumped up. Sobbing, she ran from the room.
Cursing the girl she'd given birth to, Chelle dialled Hazel's number.
'Pick me up now. I'm gonna sort this once and for all. That slag's gonna get it. Are you with me on this one, Hazel?'
'I'll be round in ten minutes.'
As she brushed her hair, Hazel stared into the mirror. She didn't want to get involved in all of this, but what could she do? Birds of a feather were meant to stick together. Michelle was her best friend and she had to be there for her, no matter what it involved.
Jade browsed around the shop and filled her trolley up with ready meals. She couldn't be bothered to cook for herself, she was more of a microwave queen. She'd tried to cook for Terry on a couple of occasions and made a complete mess of both dinners.
'Why is it that I can never find a woman that can cook?' he'd joked to her.
Jade loaded up her boot and started her engine. She felt slightly better for going out and getting a bit of fresh air, but she dreaded going back into the flat with all its memories. The night-times were the worst, that was when she felt so alone. Thank God she had the baby to concentrate on. Her child would be a reminder of Terry, a part of him. Without that to look forward to, she had nothing.
As she pulled up in the little car park, Jade didn't notice the two women sitting opposite in the silver Merc.
Michelle and Hazel both had baseball hats on to disguise themselves and had been sitting patiently, eating a McDonald's, waiting for her to arrive home. Michelle slurped the last of her milkshake. 'This is her pulling in now, Hazel. Right, you wait here while I go and teach the fucking slag a thing or two.'
Hazel was secretly glad that Chelle was going to deal with this on her own. It wasn't her argument at the end of the day and she was happy to stay in the car and watch the proceedings. Chelle jumped out of the car and started marching towards the Ford Ka.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Jade spun round and dropped the Tesco bags in shock. Chelle pulled back her right hand and delivered one almighty punch which hit Jade square on the chin. Screaming, Jade fell awkwardly onto the pavement.
'That, you fucking whore, is for shagging my husband.' Chelle kicked her full force in the face with her Nike trainer. 'That's for having the audacity to turn up at his funeral.'
Jade lay sobbing amongst the ready-made meals. 'Please don't hurt me, I'm sorry for everything, really sorry.'
Chelle gave a hearty laugh. 'Sorry? Sorry, you cunt? You will be when I've finished with you.' Lifting her leg back again, Chelle booted her twice as hard as she could in the stomach. 'And that, you fucking slag, is for the monster you're carrying inside you.'
Jade curled herself up into a ball screaming hysterically. Mr Jones who lived downstairs ran out of his bottom flat. 'Leave her alone, I'm calling the police.'
Hazel started the engine and opened the window. 'Chelle, enough's enough, come on.'
Chelle looked at Mr Jones. 'And you can fuck off, you nosy old cunt.' Chelle looked down at the quivering wreck on the pavement. 'And you, whore, watch your back from now on.' With that she leapt into the waiting motor and she and Hazel shot off at top speed.
Mr Jones went to help Jade. 'Are you OK, love? I'll ring the police, shall I?'
Jade tried to talk between sobs. 'Don't ring the police, I'm pregnant, I need an ambulance.'
The ambulance arrived within five minutes and took her to Oldchurch Hospital, which was nearby. She was rushed into casualty where the doctors did a series of examinations on her. The police had been called and were waiting to talk to her about the attack, but under the circumstances the doctors had told them no can do. They told them that the victim was pregnant, her baby was the priority and she was also in no fit state to be interviewed.
An emergency ultrasound scan was being arranged for Jade and she was told that she'd be taken to have it in the next hour. Her face was cleaned up in the meantime. She'd got a badly bruised cheekbone and a cut lip but hadn't needed any stitches. The wait for the ultrasound was horrendous for Jade. It reminded her of when Terry had gone missing and she was waiting for the phone to ring.
Lying on the bed, Jade looked up at the ceiling and prayed. 'Please, God, let my baby be all right. I know I was wrong getting involved with a married man, but please, God, don't take Terry's baby away from me.'
The nurses asked Jade if they could contact anyone. She didn't want her parents notified and didn't really have that many friends in the area, so she told them to ring Kirsty.
Kirsty turned up just as they were about to take her for her scan. Michael was in tow, with a face like a smacked arse. 'Oh, look at your poor face, Jade. What happened?'
Jade made a shushing noise to Kirsty. 'I'll talk to you later, I'm going for a scan now. You stay here with Michael.'
The journey through the corridors was never-ending. Her life was in tatters and if this baby died, she didn't want to live any more. There were three doctors waiting for her in the room that was about to decide her fate. After smearing a jelly substance onto her belly, they then started the procedure, all looking intently into a screen.
After talking amongst themselves for what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes, the la
dy doctor looked at her and smiled. 'Your baby seems fine, Jade, everything seems normal.'
Jade breathed a massive sigh of relief. 'Thank you, Doctor, thank you so much.'
Dr Newman held her hand. 'Now we're going to keep you in overnight, just for observation. You took a little knock on your head as you fell and there's a slight bump there. It's nothing to worry about but you've had a nasty shock and we just want to keep an eye on you. All being well, you can probably go home tomorrow or the next day.'
Jade nodded. 'And my baby's definitely OK?'
Squeezing her hand, Dr Newman smiled. 'Your baby's fine, so you mustn't worry. You've had a traumatic day and you need to rest now and get a good night's sleep.'
Jade was wheeled back to casualty to wait for a bed. Kirsty and Michael stayed with her for about half an hour but she couldn't wait to get rid of them. If she had known Kirsty was going to bring Michael, she wouldn't have let the nurses ring her in the first place. She needed a woman-to-woman chat and couldn't talk to her friend with him there.
Davey Mullins was the person Jade would normally ring in a crisis, but after Terry's funeral he'd gone to Tenerife and wasn't due back till the day after tomorrow. Jade was wheeled to a ward and put next to the nurses' station, so they could keep an eye on her during the night. She took the medication that was meant to make her sleep but still found herself wide awake hours later.
Her life was in shit-street and she didn't know what to do about it. The police were coming back tomorrow to question her about the attack. Jade was going to tell the doctors that she still wasn't well enough to talk to them. She wasn't going to grass Chelle up, she couldn't. She'd hate the police to know her business and wasn't prepared to wash her dirty laundry in public. Going back to her flat filled her with dread. Say Chelle turned up again to finish her and the baby off? She would ring Dave as soon as he got back off holiday; he'd sort something out for her. If it came to the worst, she'd have to get the furniture moved out of her flat and into the empty house that she and Terry had planned to move into. Michelle wouldn't find her there surely. It was out in the sticks, in the middle of nowhere.
Billie Jo Page 10
