the equation?
Not once had Terry ever been hauled in by the Old Bill. He was sure the filth was aware of him as he had his finger stuck in many pies, but he was a background man and that’s the way he liked it. He made sure that he kept well away from the dodgy motors, the thieves and the yards. He had a lackey boy to do all his shit jobs for him and this was probably the reason why he’d kept his nose clean for so many years. In Terry’s world you had to trust your instincts, and at this present moment he had a real bad feeling about Archie’s quivering wreck of a nephew. If Paul got his collar felt, he’d sing like a songbird, his type always did.
Terry decided to get Dave or one of the other lads to pay Archie a visit in the Scrubs. Someone had to inform the poor old sod that his nephew had turned out to be a wrong’un. Terry wouldn’t go personally; the less he was linked with Archie the better.
Noticing his pal had something on his mind, Davey Boy aimed a playful punch at him. ‘What’s up, Tel? You don’t seem yourself tonight, mate, you’re knocking ’em back like they’re going out of style. What’s the matter?’
‘I’m all right, mate. I’m just stressed. That cunt Cox has put me in a bad mood. If he weren’t Archie’s nephew, I swear I’d fucking kill him. You know what I’m like, Dave, I hate being had over.’
‘Don’t worry about him, Tel, the geezer’s a cock.’
Terry gulped at his drink. He felt weighed down with worry.
‘That’s what worries me. Now Cox has been working with us, he probably knows too much. Archie’s a fucking nuisance bringing him into the fold.’
Dave shrugged. Terry rarely went on a downer, but when he did, he was hard to snap out of it. Dave decided to change the subject. ‘We’ve got old Albie’s wedding next week, ain’t we?’
Terry sighed. He was dreading the occasion. ‘Wonderful, I’m taking Chelle with me. All her gym cronies are going. There’s bound to be some fucking fiasco, you mark my words.’
Taking a sip of his Budweiser, Dave smiled at his pal. The poor bastard looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. ‘I’ll get my Lisa to sit with Chelle and keep an eye on her. She’ll be fine, you’ll see.’
Terry wished he could share his friend’s optimism. Michelle behave? That was a joke. It was odds-on that the fat cow would show him up in some way, shape or form. He hated weddings, he really did. Every time he attended one it reminded him of the biggest mistake that he’d ever made. Still, he wouldn’t have to suffer it much longer. This time next year, he and the wildebeest would be separated and awaiting their divorce.
Unknown to Michelle, Terry had been preparing for the occasion by offloading many of his assets. Chelle knew nothing about what he owned and what he didn’t. All she knew was that he had two houses, which he rented out to students, the car lot and their own house.
What Chelle didn’t know was that, over the years, he’d purchased four other properties, which he’d rented out. Most of the tenants had been Albanian or Bosnian and the DSS had eagerly paid whatever rent Terry had demanded.
When Archie got arrested, Terry wondered if it was wise to have so many properties in his name, just in case someone came sniffing around. It was that thought, and the fact that he didn’t want Chelle to get her grubby paws on them, that had made him decide to get rid of them. He’d sold all four of them on the cheap in cash-only deals to fellow business associates of his with the tenants still intact.
Davey Mullins was looking after half of his cash for him. The other half Terry had hidden in the safe at the car lot. He’d told no one it was there, not even Dave. He trusted Dave more than life itself, but in this day and age you could never be too careful. Money did strange things to people.
The minute he walked out the door, Chelle would find herself the best brief money could buy. She would then try and cane him for every penny he had. Terry was as sure of this as he was sure the Pope prayed. He knew he’d have to cough up a large pay-off settlement for her, but considering the fat lazy bitch had never done a day’s work in her life, there was no way he was letting her get her mitts on anything she didn’t know about. Terry couldn’t wait until his life consisted of just him, Billie and Jade. In his eyes, that day couldn’t come quick enough.
‘WELL, DAD, HOW do I look?’
Terry turned around to face his daughter and sighed inwardly. For the first time in his life, he saw his daughter as a young woman, instead of a child. She looked absolutely stunning, but instead of being pleased Terry felt a wave of dread wash over him as he realised his little baby, who he thought would look like a little girl for ever, had shot up a few inches overnight, sprouted breasts and had turned into a right little cracker.
If Terry could have had his way, he’d have kept her in bunches and ankle socks until she was at least twenty-one. He knew deep down that he had to let Billie grow up, but the thing that worried him was the thought of grown men lusting after her. She looked so much older than her tender fifteen years, and he’d personally mutilate anyone over the age of twenty-one who even dared to look at her in a sexual way.
Swallowing his thoughts, he smiled at her. ‘You look lovely, Bill, really lovely.’
Billie walked up to him and gave him a big hug. She knew her dad hated her growing up and had been expecting him to throw a fit over the adult-looking outfit she was wearing. A fitted dress, high-heeled shoes, lipstick and mascara would normally send her dad into a frenzy. Thankfully, today he seemed quite calm.
‘Right, I’m ready, do I look all right?’ Michelle sauntered into the room in a black trouser suit, matched with leopardskin bag, shoes and hat.
‘You look really nice, Mum, doesn’t she, Dad?’
Terry glanced at his daughter and admired the fact that she was such a good liar. Looking his wife up and down, he chose to be polite. ‘You look nice, Chelle.’
In fact, in all honesty, he’d seen her look a damn sight worse. Due to her weight gain, Chelle normally looked like a bundle of shit tied up ugly. This outfit, which had set him back three hundred quid from a boutique in Loughton, kind of flattered her.
Terry smiled at his wife and daughter. ‘Ready to make tracks then?’
‘Yep,’ they both replied in unison.
Angie Smith became Mrs Bones at two o’clock that afternoon at Langtons Register Office in Hornchurch. The evening reception was being held in a function room in Upminster and another hundred guests were expected to join in the celebrations. Albie Bones was Benny’s younger brother. Angie would be wife number four.
Terry stood at the bar with Davey Mullins, chatting to a couple of blokes who owned a car site in Brentwood. Auctions were the topic of conversation and Terry was bored shitless by the two Larry Largenuts he and Dave were lumbered with. Excusing themselves, Terry and Dave headed to the toilets. Avoiding the bar like the plague on the way back, they decided to join the girls.
‘All right, ladies? Enjoying yourselves are you?’
Before anyone had a chance to acknowledge them, Chelle piped up. ‘You all know my husband, don’t you, girls? The one and only Charlie Bigbananas. Two hours I’ve been sitting here and
