Billie Jo by Kimberley Chambers

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.

NINE
    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