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.
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.
