Billie Jo (10 page)

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.'

'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 lady 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.

Feeling as if she had the weight of the world on her
shoulders, Jade began to sob. Looking up to the ceiling
she prayed for help. 'Terry, if you're looking down on me
please help me,' she whispered. 'Why did you have to
leave me? I loved you so much. If you can't be with me
in person, please be with me in spirit.' Overcome by tiredness,
she tearfully drifted off to sleep.

Michelle staggered to the fridge and grabbed the bottle
of champagne. Releasing the cork, she topped up two
glasses and handed one to Hazel.

'Wine would have been fine, Chelle. What did you
open that for?'

'We're celebrating,' Chelle slurred.

Hazel sighed. 'I'm going to have to shoot off soon,
Chelle. I've got shitloads to do indoors and I can't drink
any more, I've got to drive.'

'Oh, don't go yet,' Chelle pleaded.

Feeling guilty, Hazel picked up the glass and politely
sipped the champagne.

'I wanna make a toast,' Chelle slurred.

'Go on then, hurry up.'

Hazel had had enough of her friend for one day.

Snatching her pal's drink, Chelle wobbled as she held
a glass in each hand.

'This,' she said, holding out her left hand, 'is a toast
to my fucking dead husband. And this,' she said, holding
out her right, 'is a toast to the demise of his fucking
bitch.'

Chelle lost her balance and collapsed to the floor.
Surrounded by glass, she burst into tears.

Hazel lifted her up and plonked her onto a chair. Chelle
was distraught and Hazel stroked her hair as she tried to
calm her. Giving it the big-'un had become a way of life
for Chelle. Smacking Jade had been something she'd had
to do. Deep down, she hadn't wanted to, but she had done
what was expected of her. She had a name and held a
reputation. Terry had been her husband and Jade should
have respected that. Jade's horrified expression as she
booted her in the stomach would stay with Chelle for
ever. Feeling more than guilty, she clung on to Hazel.