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.
Worried about her mental state, her parents had insisted
on staying with her. She hadn't wanted them to, as being
alone was the only way she could even attempt to grieve.
Escaping into the loneliness of her bedroom, she lay
down and cried like never before. The sheets bore his
DNA. His scent was apparent and she immediately vowed
never to wash them again. They would be put away, stored
as a keepsake of the man who had been so cruelly taken
from her.
Chelle got a bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured
herself and Hazel a large glass. She'd been on the vodka
all day but it wasn't touching her. She needed to feel like
she'd had a drink to listen to Terry's messages and wine
always worked wonders for her. Part of her pondered if
she was doing the right thing. Did she really want to know
who her husband had been knocking off?
She'd been surprisingly calm since the news of Terry's
death. Partly because she'd been permanently pissed and
partly because she was relieved that he hadn't run off
with his fancy bit. She would have hated being left a
penniless laughing stock. His death was a tragedy, but at
least she had the sympathy vote and financial security.
Terry had taken out a life insurance policy years ago to
take care of his family if anything were to happen to him.
Snapping herself out of her daydream, Chelle took the
phone off the charger, switched it on and watched it flick
into life. It frantically let out a series of bleeps, indicating
the many answerphone messages that had been
left. Chelle handed the phone to Hazel and topped her
wine glass up. 'I can't listen to them, mate, you're going
to have to do it.'
Hazel shoved the phone to her ear and pressed the
appropriate button. The first few messages gave away
nothing. One was from a pissed-up Dave from Maxie's
pub, one from some other geezer called Joe and one from
Benny Bones. It was when Hazel got to messages four,
five and six that things started to liven up. Jade had left
all three. She'd left them the morning after Terry had
texted her outside Maxie's pub.
Number four said, 'I got your text message, Tel, and
I miss you too. You can pick me up from here whenever
you like. Can't wait to see you, love you lots.'
Number five was, 'Guess what, Tel, I just felt the baby
moving for the first
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.
Worried about her mental state, her parents had insisted
on staying with her. She hadn't wanted them to, as being
alone was the only way she could even attempt to grieve.
Escaping into the loneliness of her bedroom, she lay
down and cried like never before. The sheets bore his
DNA. His scent was apparent and she immediately vowed
never to wash them again. They would be put away, stored
as a keepsake of the man who had been so cruelly taken
from her.
Chelle got a bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured
herself and Hazel a large glass. She'd been on the vodka
all day but it wasn't touching her. She needed to feel like
she'd had a drink to listen to Terry's messages and wine
always worked wonders for her. Part of her pondered if
she was doing the right thing. Did she really want to know
who her husband had been knocking off?
She'd been surprisingly calm since the news of Terry's
death. Partly because she'd been permanently pissed and
partly because she was relieved that he hadn't run off
with his fancy bit. She would have hated being left a
penniless laughing stock. His death was a tragedy, but at
least she had the sympathy vote and financial security.
Terry had taken out a life insurance policy years ago to
take care of his family if anything were to happen to him.
Snapping herself out of her daydream, Chelle took the
phone off the charger, switched it on and watched it flick
into life. It frantically let out a series of bleeps, indicating
the many answerphone messages that had been
left. Chelle handed the phone to Hazel and topped her
wine glass up. 'I can't listen to them, mate, you're going
to have to do it.'
Hazel shoved the phone to her ear and pressed the
appropriate button. The first few messages gave away
nothing. One was from a pissed-up Dave from Maxie's
pub, one from some other geezer called Joe and one from
Benny Bones. It was when Hazel got to messages four,
five and six that things started to liven up. Jade had left
all three. She'd left them the morning after Terry had
texted her outside Maxie's pub.
Number four said, 'I got your text message, Tel, and
I miss you too. You can pick me up from here whenever
you like. Can't wait to see you, love you lots.'
Number five was, 'Guess what, Tel, I just felt the baby
moving for the first
Similar Books
