Billie Jo (6 page)

The following morning, Terry woke with a stiff neck.
Stretching, he headed for the shower.

Dreading the day ahead, he switched his phone on and
called Jade. He wished her a happy Christmas in a whisper
and told her how much he loved and missed her.

As he unlocked the shower door, Terry came face to face
with Billie Jo, who had been patiently waiting for him.

'Merry Christmas, Dad.' Billie Jo threw her arms
around his waist. 'Can we open the presents now?'

'Best wait for your mum, Bill. Where is she?'

'In the kitchen, Dad. Apparently she's preparing
dinner.'

Terry knew that was a fucking lie. Chelle and food
preparation just didn't go together. They'd lived on takeaways
for years, eaten out or he'd had to cook. Terry crept
into the kitchen and wasn't surprised to see Chelle sitting
at the kitchen table slurping a large glass of wine. 'You
ain't started drinking already, have you? It's only eleven
o'clock, for fuck's sake.'

'Oh, don't start moaning, Tel, I've only had one.
Everyone starts early on Christmas Day, it's part of the
tradition. Give us a break will you, for Christ's sake.'

Terry sighed and wandered back into the living room.
It was going to be one long day and he'd be glad when
it was bastard well over. 'Come on then, Princess, open
your presents.' Terry watched his daughter's eyes sparkle
with excitement as she unwrapped the gifts underneath
the tree. He hadn't bought her as many as usual because
she'd insisted she wanted money this year. She was at an
age now where she would rather have the dough to go
and buy whatever she wanted. He'd still managed to
organise one big surprise for her though. Handing her an
envelope, Terry stood back and waited for her reaction.

Billie couldn't believe her eyes when she saw what
was inside. Clocking the two tickets for her and Tiffany
to go to a recording studio for a day and make their own
CD, Billie was absolutely ecstatic. Herself and Tiff were
bang into the old music scene and this was like a dream
come true. Terry was pleased with himself as he looked
at his daughter's happy face. He had a pal who owned a
recording studio over at Fulham Broadway and who owed
him a favour or two. His mate was even throwing in
the transport. A car would be picking the girls up in the
morning, then dropping them off when they'd finished.
All they had to do was ring up and arrange a day.

'You're the best dad in the whole wide world,' Billie
said, running upstairs to ring Tiff. Spice Girls eat your
heart out, she thought excitedly.

Terry poured his mum and aunt a sherry and welcomed
Dave and Lisa as they arrived. Hearing the doorbell ring
again, Terry went to answer it. His brother John was
standing outside with the ugliest thing he had ever seen.

'All right, Tel? Meet Maureen, my girlfriend. Mo, this
is my brother Terry.'

Terry ushered them into the living room. Maureen was
as rough as old boots. She looked like she'd fallen out of
the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. Still,
his brother was no oil painting himself. Truth be known,
they made a real nice couple.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly with no major
incident. Pearl and Bridie served up dinner, which everybody
tucked into, and all seemed to be going smoothly.
It was only after watching a rerun of
Only Fools and
Horses
that things started to go tits up. Lisa, who couldn't
handle her drink at the best of times, had managed to
guzzle a whole bottle of Baileys to herself.

Deciding she needed to get a bit of fresh air, she rose
unsteadily to her feet. Two wobbly steps later and the
contents of Lisa's stomach lay on Auntie Bridie's lap and
Terry's living-room carpet. Davey Boy went absolutely
apeshit and promised to buy Terry a new carpet and Bridie
a new outfit. A full-scale argument then developed
between Dave and Lisa, which ended with Dave storming
out of the house and Lisa running after him, crying and
begging forgiveness.

By nine o'clock things had got even worse. John and
Maureen were both paralytic and Pearl wasn't far behind
them, sobbing her heart out, talking drivel.

'I don't want to be in this world without him. I want
to die, so we can be together. I know he had his faults,
but he was a good man your father, he was the best, son.'

Terry wanted to remind his mother of what a nasty old
bastard Paddy had really been but decided to keep schtum.
He needed this shit like he needed a fucking hole in the
head. The only thing that kept him sane was the thought
that next year he could have a nice quiet Christmas, just
him, Billie, Jade and the baby.

'Bill, get the karaoke machine out for Mummy and we
can have a singalong.'

Billie looked at her mother in horror. Chelle's voice
left a lot to be desired at the best of times.

'It's getting late now, Mum. I'll set it up for you
tomorrow.'

'I don't want it out tomorrow. I want the fucking thing
out now.'

'Yeah get it out, I like a bit of karaoke,' Maureen slurred.
She looked uglier now than ever. She was that pissed, her
face was all distorted and she looked like she'd had a
stroke.

Half an hour later, after struggling to set up the equipment,
Chelle stood in the middle of the room, mike in
hand, singing Dusty Springfield's 'I Only Wanna Be With
You'. Chelle was like a cat with two tails once she had
a mike in her hand and was wobbling her fat arse nineteen
to the dozen whilst pointing and singing to her husband.
Maureen then got in on the act, with a rancid version of
'Little Old Wine Drinker Me'. By this point, Terry had
really had enough and just wanted to sod off to bed.
'Mum, Bridie, I'm going to bed in a minute, girls. Shall
I help you both up the stairs? It's getting late now and
you don't wanna feel like shit tomorrow.'

'Bejesus, since when did you become a boring bastard,
Terry Keane? You make me feel like a fecking old grunter,'
Bridie said, chucking him a look. 'We're not ready for
bed yet. We're going to have a singalong first.' After a
tussle with Michelle over the mike, Bridie proved her
point by launching into her medley of Irish rebel songs.

'Night, everyone.' Terry stomped out of the living room
without waiting for any replies and headed for the tranquillity
of the bedroom. Billie Jo followed suit and sat
on the edge of the bed talking to him. Due to his family
staying, Terry had no choice but to sleep in Chelle's room
for a couple of days. He was absolutely dreading it. He
just hoped the wildebeest was incapable of making it up
the stairs and crashed out on the sofa as usual.

'Do you know something, Dad? Our family is really
not normal.'

'Tell me something I don't know, Bill.' Terry gently
ruffled her hair. 'Never mind, girl, we're not gonna have
to put up with all this shit next year, are we?'

'Do you know what, Dad, I really can't wait. I've had
enough of living in this nuthouse.'

Terry kissed her forehead. 'Night, sweetheart.'

'Night, Dad.' Billie kissed him and returned to her own
room.

Two hours later, Terry was woken by a big fat hand
squeezing the life out of his cock. Leaping out of bed in
shock, he flicked the light switch on, and looked towards
the bed in horror at the sight of Michelle lying there,
stark bollock naked, showing all her crowning glory.
'What the fuck do you think you're doing, Chelle?'

Chelle squinted at him, trying to focus out of one eye.
'Oh come on, Tel, come back to bed and give me a cuddle.
I feel randy tonight and if you're lucky, I'll let you have
your wicked way with me.'

Terry looked at his wife in disgust. They hadn't had sex
for at least nine months and he'd forgotten what she looked
like naked. She looked awful, that's what she looked like.
He knew he could never fuck her again. He wouldn't even
want to poke her with someone else's, let alone his own.
Deciding to sleep on the sofa, he headed downstairs to get
a bit of peace and quiet. Thankfully, his brother and the
lush were nowhere to be seen.

'Happy fucking Christmas,' Terry said out loud. His
family were out-and-out nutters and he'd had a gutful of
the lot of them. Chelle, Bridie, his mother, it's as though
their aim in life was to do his head in. As for his brother
turning up with Frankenstein's monster, that'd been the
icing on the cake.

Well, no more. Tomorrow he would take Billie out on
his lonesome, he would take her somewhere nice, somewhere
special. The rest of his not-right family could go
and fuck themselves.

As Terry Keane went to sleep that night, he was positive
that he'd endured the worst of the festive season.
Unfortunately for him, the nightmare had only just begun.

Terry was up with the larks the following morning. He
scrubbed the vomit-stained carpet, tidied the living room,
and cooked himself up a full English. He couldn't live in
shit, it gave him the right hump when the place looked
like a tip and he knew Chelle wouldn't do it. Housework
was not on top of the list of his wife's priorities. Normally
they had a cleaner who came in twice a week, but she
had gone away for Christmas and had cancelled until
the New Year.

'That smells lovely, Dad, I'm starving. Will you make
me something please?' Rubbing her tired eyes, Billie
plonked herself onto a chair.

Terry rustled up one of his specialities, handed it to
his daughter and sat down opposite her at the kitchen
table. 'I can't stand another day like yesterday, Princess.
How about we have a day out, just me and you, and not
come back until late tonight?'

'I can't, Dad. I'm going round Tiffany's this afternoon.
I thought I told you. Her mum and dad are having a house
party tonight and I'm staying over. I'll come out with you
this morning though. I'll take my stuff I need for tonight
with me and you can drop me off round there about four.'

Terry was disappointed; he hadn't expected Billie to
be busy. He wouldn't have minded if he could have seen
Jade but she was hundreds of miles away. His only other
option was to go out on the piss. Deciding to give Davey
Mullins a bell, Terry looked at Billie.

'Chop, chop, then. Go and sort your gear out and we
can escape before anyone wakes up.'

Terry spent the morning traipsing around the sales in
Romford. By lunchtime, he wanted to tear his hair out.
Dragging Billie out of Top Shop, he sat her down on a
nearby bench. 'I'm starving, Princess. I can't be walking
around no more shops. I'll make a deal with you. Me and
you'll go for something to eat and I'll give you five
hundred quid to go and spend on top of your Christmas
money. Take Tiff with you or someone. These crowds are
driving me mad, Bill. It's so fucking packed. The next
person that bumps into me, I swear I'm gonna up 'em.'

Billie giggled. Her dad wasn't a great shopper at the
best of times. 'I don't want another five hundred quid.
You gave me more than enough for Christmas. Let's go
for a pizza, then you can drop me around at Tiff's.'

'I want that pizza there,' Billie said, showing him the
menu. 'And can I have some garlic bread with cheese?'

Terry ordered their food and smiled at her. 'Well, you've
got enough bags. Best show your old dad what you
bought.'

Billie happily obliged by showing him every purchase
and explaining the before and after prices to him. 'They're
such bargains, aren't they? Especially that bag you bought
me,' she said excitedly.

Terry smiled to himself as their lunch arrived. Billie
Jo had only been in three shops, yet had still managed to
spend a bloody fortune.

Tucking into her pizza, Billie Jo studied her dad.
Women seemed to love him, and whenever she was out
with him she noticed the female attention that he received.
He appeared unaware of it himself; either that or he just
wasn't interested.

Remembering he only had eyes for Jade, Billie decided
to try and build some bridges. She wasn't happy about
him being with someone so young, but he was the best
dad in the world and he deserved to be happy. Billie knew
she'd been horrible to him when he had first told her
about his feelings for his secretary. She'd avoided him for
days and had barely spoken to him unless she'd had to.
Ashamed of her childish behaviour, she nibbled her garlic
bread and smiled at him. 'How's Jade? Aren't you spending
any time with her over Christmas, Dad?'

Terry nearly choked on his beer. Jade had been an
unmentionable subject up until now.

'She's staying at her parents', Bill. I suggested it. I
knew I'd be tied up with that lot indoors and I didn't want
her to spend Christmas all on her own.'

Pushing her plate away, Billie searched for the right
words.

'I'm sorry, Dad, if I've been a cow. When you first
told me about Jade, I was really shocked. Now I've had
time to think about it, I'm pleased that you've met
someone special. I love you so much. So if you're happy,
then I'm happy for you.'

His daughter's acceptance of his situation was the best
Christmas present that Terry could have asked for.
Touched, he struggled to speak.

'Look, Bill. Whatever happens in my life, you come
first. You have always been my number one and you always
will be. Nothing or no one will ever come between me
and you, you know that, don't you?'

Billie nodded, her eyes filling up with tears.

Terry felt emotional himself. Determined not to make
a prick of himself, he stood up.

'I'm gonna pay the bill now. Thank you, Billie. You're
the best daughter that any man could wish for.'

The Jade subject wasn't mentioned any more that day.
No more words were needed. Everything had been said.

Pulling up outside Tiffany's, Terry kissed Billie Jo on
the cheek.

'Now you have a lovely time, babe. If you want me to
pick you up tomorrow, give us a bell and I'll come and
get you.'

Loaded with bags, Billie got out of the car.

'Love you, Dad.'

'I love you too, Princess.'

Smiling, Terry headed towards Gidea Park.

Davey Mullins had been well up for a night out. He was
sitting indoors bored shitless when Terry had rung him
and had jumped at the chance of a drinking session.
He and Lisa still weren't on speaking terms and she'd
sodded off round to her mother's for the day. He was
beginning to realise he'd made a big mistake moving Lisa
in with him. A month they'd been living together and
already they were fighting like cat and dog.

Hearing a toot outside, Dave eagerly climbed into
the Range Rover. 'Where are we going, Tel?' he asked
excitedly.

Terry briefly switched the engine off as he hadn't
thought that far ahead. 'I dunno, mate. What do you fancy
doing? We could head up to Johnny's pub up the East
End or we could head out to Essex. Old Maxie Boy's
bound to have something going on tonight and we ain't
had a beer with him for ages, have we?'

Maxie Allen owned a boozer out in Blackmore and
lived in a big house next door to it. Originally from the
East End, Max was a typical old-school publican. He
loved having his pals around him, loved a late one and
was also partial to a bit of powder.

Dave weighed up Terry's ideas. Johnny's pub was livelier,
but Max was a gearhead. 'Let's go and see Max, eh,
Tel?'

Terry grinned to himself as he restarted the engine; he
could read old Davey Boy like an open book!

Maxie Allen was holding a private party for his friends
and family. He was over the moon when Terry and Dave
walked in unexpectedly. The three of them went back
years and it was only because Max hated Terry's fat
drunken wife that he hadn't sent them an invitation in the
first place. The fact they'd turned up on their lonesome
suited Max down to the ground.

After spending the evening being treated like royalty,
knocking back champagne and shoving gear up his hooter,
Terry was now bored shitless and wanted to leave. Maxie
Allen he loved to death, he really did. He had a great
deal of time and respect for the man. It's a shame the
same couldn't be said for Maxie's friends, who in Terry's
eyes were the biggest bunch of wankers he'd ever come
across. Real villains never boasted about their wealth or
who they knew; plastic gangsters were the opposite. After
being lumbered for twenty minutes with some penis who'd
been rambling on about being related to the Krays, Terry
had now had a gutful of it. He was fed up, agitated and
was kicking himself for not going up the East End. Terry
loved the pub in Stepney. It was full of proper people
with proper stories. In fact, it was the complete opposite
of the hellhole he was currently stuck in.

Excusing himself from Mr Kray's so-called cousin,
Terry spotted Dave at the bar, mauling some ginger-haired
rough old sort. He immediately walked over to his friend
and slapped him on the back. Dave released his tongue
from the minger's throat and turned towards him. 'You
all right, Tel? Good night, innit?'

'I'm knackered, Dave. I'm leaving in a minute. Do you
wanna come with me or are you staying here?'

Dave looked at the bird standing next to him. Black
miniskirt, tattoos on her arm and back, she looked like
something off the
Jerry Springer Show
. She was rough, but
bang up for it and that's all that mattered. The gear made
Dave feel horny and he was determined to shag someone's
brains out tonight. He'd had a shit Christmas Day, which
was all Lisa's fault, and he was desperate for some fun.

'I think I'm gonna stay here, Tel. I'll give you a bell
tomorrow.'

Terry glanced at his watch and saw it was half past
twelve. Surely if he left now he wouldn't have to walk
into a remake of
One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest
. Chelle
might still be up, but the rest of the nutters should be in
bed by now.

Terry hugged Maxie, thanked him for a good night and
walked outside to his Range Rover. Starting the engine,
he opened the windows and appreciated the bitter cold air.
It had been a shit Christmas, probably his worst one ever.
Jade he missed something chronic, much more than he
thought he would, and although he'd spoken to her for
ages on the phone, it just wasn't the same as having her
nearby. He was so used to seeing her every day, she was
always at his beck and call and he realised he'd become
far more attached to her than to any woman from his past.
He wished he had never suggested she visit her parents,
as he was struggling to enjoy himself without her.

Sorting through his CD collection, he chose a country
and western compilation for the journey home. Terry was
a big country music fan and his daughter had been named
after Billie Jo Spears. He'd wanted to call her Tammy or
Dolly after Wynette or Parton but Chelle hadn't liked
either name, so they'd agreed on Billie Jo. Terry wanted
to talk to Jade more than anything else in the world, but
decided against calling her. To ring her at one in the
morning would be taking the piss. She was bound to be
asleep and he didn't want to wake up Tubbs and Crockett.
Texting and Terry didn't really go together but he decided
to have a bash. It took him ten minutes to punch out a
message which read:

'I miss you so much, Jade. Don't stay the whole week,
I'm lost without you. Ring me in the morning and I'll
arrange to pick you up. Night, babe, love you.'

Cranking up the volume, Terry joined in with Patsy
Cline's 'I Fall to Pieces' and began his journey home.

Approximately twenty miles away, Sonny Ryan and
Freddie Boy Smith had been out drinking all day and all
night. Seventeen and nineteen years old respectively, they
were novices of life but thought they knew it all. Travelling
boys through and through, they were roofers by day and
naughty boys by night. After playing pool all day at a
pub in Woodford, the boys had happened to overhear of
a twenty-first birthday party being held in a nearby hall.
Deciding to gatecrash the event, they were now knocking
back the free drink at the bar and doing their best to
impress the two little birds that were standing by their
side looking at them adoringly. Realising that their luck
was in, Sonny pulled Freddie to one side.

'We're in here, Freddie. The bar's gonna shut in a
minute, where we gonna take 'em?'

'Let's go up to Sammy's place, eh?'

Sonny looked at him and smiled. 'Good idea. I'm
teaching you well, Freddie Boy. We'll have to use the van
again though.'

'I'm sure we'll be OK. The gavvers are so busy this time
of year, they ain't going to be looking for no hooky van.'

Sonny and Freddie had been drinking in Romford on
Christmas Eve and had tried to hail a cab to take them
home. They had no intention of paying the fare of course,
doing a runner was second nature to them. Unfortunately
for them, their plan was doomed to fail. As soon as the
cabs had pulled up and heard their pikey accent, they
accelerated at top speed. The boys lived on a site in
Hainault and it was too far to walk, so running out of
options, they chored a red Escort van and drove themselves
home. They'd dumped the van away from their site
but retrieved it again this morning to go out for the day.
They owned a motor of their own, a pick-up truck, but
with the ladders on the back it was too tuggable. They
only used it for work as it was neither taxed nor insured.

'Are you ready then, girls?'

Leanne and Lucy were drunk but up for an adventure.
Typical sixteen-year-olds, Leanne had told her mum she
was staying at Lucy's house and vice versa. Neither mum
had bothered to check their story. Both girls were virgins,
led extremely boring lives and after a brief discussion in
the toilets, they decided to take a chance and go for a
drive with the two handsome lads that they'd met. Neither
girl realised the boys were gypsies. They'd never met any
before and wouldn't have known a pikey if they had fallen
out the sky and smacked them on the head. They knew
the boys had a funny accent, but surmised they came from
up north or something. Leanne stood with her hand on
her hip looking at Sonny and Freddie.

'Look, we'll come for a drive with you, but don't try
nothing on 'cause we're not like that. We're decent girls
and we won't stay out all night, so you'll have to drop us
back home later.'

Both girls lived in Collier Row and were staying at
their friend Kelly's. She had an open house for a week
as her parents had gone away. Kelly had been with them
earlier, but had been sick and gone home early. Climbing
into the back of the Escort van was a feat on its own.
The girls felt woozy, but were filled with excitement.