realising her father had just lied through his teeth, Billie breathed a sigh of relief. She had enough grief with the mother she’d inherited without being lumbered with a new one.
The conversation for the next half an hour was stilted and neither of them ate their food. Billie excused herself from the table and went to the toilet. Desperate to get out of the restaurant she rang Tiffany and asked if she could stay the night.
Terry smiled at his daughter as she sat back down at the table.
‘What do you fancy doing now then, Princess? We can go to the pictures, bowling, it’s your call.’
‘Actually, Dad, I want you to drop me off at Tiff’s house. I’m staying there tonight, we arranged it yesterday. I’m sorry, I must have forgotten to tell you.’
Terry knew his daughter was lying and that the sleep-over had been arranged in the last five minutes, but he guessed that deep down she needed someone to talk to and tonight that someone wouldn’t be him. He could understand her not jumping for joy when he’d dropped his bombshell, but what he couldn’t handle was her looking at him like he was some kind of nonce case.
‘Can you take me home to collect my stuff for school tomorrow and then drop me round Tiff’s after?’
‘No problem, babe,’ Terry said, switching his phone back on. He’d turned it off earlier so he could talk to Billie without any distractions. Terry dialled his answerphone and was shocked to hear his mother’s frantic voice on the other end.
‘Terry son, why haven’t you got your bloody phone switched on? Your father has collapsed, and I’ve just called an ambulance. I’m so frightened, son, I don’t think he’s breathing. I should imagine he’ll be taken to Oldchurch, or King George’s. Hurry up, boy, I’m in pieces and I don’t know what to do.’
‘Right, Bill, I’ll drop you home, then you’ll have to sort yourself out. Get your mother to drop you off or get a cab or something. Nanny’s just rung, Grandad’s ill and I’ve got to shoot straight up the hospital and find out what’s going on.’
‘OK, Dad, that’s fine. Will Grandad be all right?’ Billie asked the question out of politeness rather than love. She’d never had a close relationship with her father’s parents. Her nan she thought was a hard-faced old cow and her grandad a miserable old bastard. She’d always dreaded the odd occasion that she’d been dragged round to their house. Billie had fantastic early memories of her other grandparents on her mum’s side. Nanny Sheila and Grandad Brian had been the total opposite of her dad’s family and had showered her with cuddles, presents, kisses and laughter. It was just after her eighth birthday that Nanny Sheila had first been taken into hospital and then moved into a hospice. Billie had vivid memories of visiting her nan there. She’d burst into tears because Nan had lost so much weight.
Shortly after, her dad sat her down and told her that Nanny had gone to live in the sky with the angels. Two years later, unable to deal with his wife’s death, Grandad Brian had gone off his rocker and had been carted off to the local nuthouse. He still lived there now, in a sad, lonely world of his own. Her mum had taken Billie to visit him a few times over the years, but he didn’t know what day it was, let alone who they were. Her mum had stopped visiting him about three years ago, saying she found the experience too upsetting.
Thinking back to her early years, Billie remembered that it was around the time her nan had died that her mum began to change. Her mum had never been a big drinker until then, but, overcome with grief, she’d seemed to hit the bottle and change overnight. From that day on, the arguments had started and her parents’ relationship had gone from bad to worse.
‘What’s up, girl? You’re deep in thought.’
‘Nothing, Dad, I’m fine.’ Billie smiled at her father, as her thoughts returned to the present day. She wasn’t happy about what he had told her, but loved him far too much to be downright nasty to him.
After dropping Billie home, Terry put his foot down and raced towards Oldchurch Hospital. He drove around in circles for ten minutes looking for a parking space. Cursing at the lack of facilities, he parked the Range Rover up by the ambulance bay. Let the bastards clamp him, he couldn’t give a shit, he had a showroom full of fucking cars.
After bowling into A & E and having a chat with the receptionist, Terry was informed that his mother was there and had been taken to a relative’s room a couple of corridors away. Terry heard Pearl screaming long before he reached her.
‘Mum, it’s all right, I’m here now, babe. Are you OK?’
Pearl sat on the brown leather chair rocking backwards and forwards. ‘Oh Terry, son. Jesus, Mary and holy Saint Joseph, we’ve lost him, boy.’
Terry looked at the doctor standing beside him. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Keane, we did everything we could. It was a massive heart attack but I can assure you he never suffered, he wouldn’t have known anything about it. Can I get you, or your mum, a cup of tea or coffee?’
‘No, but thanks anyway. I’ll take Mum home and pop back tomorrow to sort things out and collect his stuff.’ Terry cuddled his mum. ‘Come on, darling, let’s get you home. You can come and stay with me and Chelle. Everything will be OK, I’ll look after you, I promise.’
Pearl was overcome by grief and Terry had to half carry her out of the hospital. Paddy had been her main purpose in life, her reason for living. Personally, he’d never forgiven the bastard for the beatings and the horror of his childhood.
Michelle was plonked on the sofa with her second bottle of wine watching the film Pretty Woman. She couldn’t concentrate on it though, as she was too scared of what Terry was going to say to her when he got home. Hearing the front door slam shut, Chelle took a deep breath and prepared herself for the worst.
‘Hello, Pearl, what are you doing here?’ Chelle couldn’t stand Pearl and the feeling was mutual, but for the first time in her life she was glad to see the miserable old bat.
Helping his mother onto the sofa, Terry nodded at Chelle to follow him into the kitchen. Now that his old man had snuffed it, he decided not to mention the wedding farce. That could keep. ‘My dad’s just died, Chelle. Mum can’t go home on her own, so I want her to stay with us for a while until she feels up to facing the world again.’ Terry knew the fat bitch hated his mother. He also knew that Chelle would be so desperate to get back into his good books that she would be likely to agree to anything.
‘Of course she can stay, Tel, she’s more than welcome. We’ll take good care of her and I’m so sorry to hear about your dad.’
Lying cow, Terry thought to himself. He knew she’d hated both of his parents. Biting his tongue, he turned to face Michelle. He could see the relief in her eyes that the old boy had chosen today of all days to snuff it. ‘Go upstairs, Chelle, sort her out some nightclothes and make a bed up in one of the spare rooms.’
Bounding upstairs, Chelle thanked God for the lucky escape she’d just had. Knocking back the last drop of wine she’d taken with her, she held her glass aloft. ‘Cheers, Paddy, you old bastard, you couldn’t have picked a better day to go, mate. In fact for once in your sad, miserable life you’ve done something useful.’ This situation was absolutely brilliant. Not only was she needed at the moment, it also gave her an excuse to behave like the perfect wife. Whatever old tart Terry had on the go certainly wasn’t going to look after his miserable old cow of a mother, she was certain of that.
No, for the moment she was needed, and being
