Billie Jo

by Kimberley Chambers

  'Now you have a lovely time, babe. If you want me to pick you up tomorrow, give us a bell and I'll come and get you.'

  Loaded with bags, Billie got out of the car.

  'Love you, Dad.'

  'I love you too, Princess.'

  Smiling, Terry headed towards Gidea Park.

  Davey Mullins had been well up for a night out. He was sitting indoors bored shitless when Terry had rung him and had jumped at the chance of a drinking session. He and Lisa still weren't on speaking terms and she'd sodded off round to her mother's for the day. He was beginning to realise he'd made a big mistake moving Lisa in with him. A month they'd been living together and already they were fighting like cat and dog.

  Hearing a toot outside, Dave eagerly climbed into the Range Rover. 'Where are we going, Tel?' he asked excitedly.

  Terry briefly switched the engine off as he hadn't thought that far ahead. 'I dunno, mate. What do you fancy doing? We could head up to Johnny's pub up the East End or we could head out to Essex. Old Maxie Boy's bound to have something going on tonight and we ain't had a beer with him for ages, have we?'

  Maxie Allen owned a boozer out in Blackmore and lived in a big house next door to it. Originally from the East End, Max was a typical old-school publican. He loved having his pals around him, loved a late one and was also partial to a bit of powder.

  Dave weighed up Terry's ideas. Johnny's pub was livelier, but Max was a gearhead. 'Let's go and see Max, eh, Tel?'

  Terry grinned to himself as he restarted the engine; he could read old Davey Boy like an open book!

  Maxie Allen was holding a private party for his friends and family. He was over the moon when Terry and Dave walked in unexpectedly. The three of them went back years and it was only because Max hated Terry's fat drunken wife that he hadn't sent them an invitation in the first place. The fact they'd turned up on their lonesome suited Max down to the ground.

  After spending the evening being treated like royalty, knocking back champagne and shoving gear up his hooter, Terry was now bored shitless and wanted to leave. Maxie Allen he loved to death, he really did. He had a great deal of time and respect for the man. It's a shame the same couldn't be said for Maxie's friends, who in Terry's eyes were the biggest bunch of wankers he'd ever come across. Real villains never boasted about their wealth or who they knew; plastic gangsters were the opposite. After being lumbered for twenty minutes with some penis who'd been rambling on about being related to the Krays, Terry had now had a gutful of it. He was fed up, agitated and was kicking himself for not going up the East End. Terry loved the pub in Stepney. It was full of proper people with proper stories. In fact, it was the complete opposite of the hellhole he was currently stuck in.

  Excusing himself from Mr Kray's so-called cousin, Terry spotted Dave at the bar, mauling some ginger-haired rough old sort. He immediately walked over to his friend and slapped him on the back. Dave released his tongue from the minger's throat and turned towards him. 'You all right, Tel? Good night, innit?'

  'I'm knackered, Dave. I'm leaving in a minute. Do you wanna come with me or are you staying here?'

  Dave looked at the bird standing next to him. Black miniskirt, tattoos on her arm and back, she looked like something off the Jerry Springer Show. She was rough, but bang up for it and that's all that mattered. The gear made Dave feel horny and he was determined to shag someone's brains out tonight. He'd had a shit Christmas Day, which was all Lisa's fault, and he was desperate for some fun.

  'I think I'm gonna stay here, Tel. I'll give you a bell tomorrow.'

  Terry glanced at his watch and saw it was half past twelve. Surely if he left now he wouldn't have to walk into a remake of One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest. Chelle might still be up, but the rest of the nutters should be in bed by now.

  Terry hugged Maxie, thanked him for a good night and walked outside to his Range Rover. Starting the engine, he opened the windows and appreciated the bitter cold air. It had been a shit Christmas, probably his worst one ever. Jade he missed something chronic, much more than he thought he would, and although he'd spoken to her for ages on the phone, it just wasn't the same as having her nearby. He was so used to seeing her every day, she was always at his beck and call and he realised he'd become far more attached to her than to any woman from his past. He wished he had never suggested she visit her parents, as he was struggling to enjoy himself without her.

  Sorting through his CD collection, he chose a country and western compilation for the journey home. Terry was a big country music fan and his daughter had been named after Billie Jo Spears. He'd wanted to call her Tammy or Dolly after Wynette or Parton but Chelle hadn't liked either name, so they'd agreed on Billie Jo. Terry wanted to talk to Jade more than anything else in the world, but decided against calling her. To ring her at one in the morning would be taking the piss. She was bound to be asleep and he didn't want to wake up Tubbs and Crockett. Texting and Terry didn't really go together but he decided to have a bash. It took him ten minutes to punch out a message which read:

  'I miss you so much, Jade. Don't stay the whole week, I'm lost without you. Ring me in the morning and I'll arrange to pick you up. Night, babe, love you.'

  Cranking up the volume, Terry joined in with Patsy Cline's 'I Fall to Pieces' and began his journey home.

  Approximately twenty miles away, Sonny Ryan and Freddie Boy Smith had been out drinking all day and all night. Seventeen and nineteen years old respectively, they were novices of life but thought they knew it all. Travelling boys through and through, they were roofers by day and naughty boys by night. After playing pool all day at a pub in Woodford, the boys had happened to overhear of a twenty-first birthday party being held in a nearby hall. Deciding to gatecrash the event, they were now knocking back the free drink at the bar and doing their best to impress the two little birds that were standing by their side looking at them adoringly. Realising that their luck was in, Sonny pulled Freddie to one side.

  'We're in here, Freddie. The bar's gonna shut in a minute, where we gonna take 'em?'

  'Let's go up to Sammy's place, eh?'

  Sonny looked at him and smiled. 'Good idea. I'm teaching you well, Freddie Boy. We'll have to use the van again though.'

  'I'm sure we'll be OK. The gavvers are so busy this time of year, they ain't going to be looking for no hooky van.'

  Sonny and Freddie had been drinking in Romford on Christmas Eve and had tried to hail a cab to take them home. They had no intention of paying the fare of course, doing a runner was second nature to them. Unfortunately for them, their plan was doomed to fail. As soon as the cabs had pulled up and heard their pikey accent, they accelerated at top speed. The boys lived on a site in Hainault and it was too far to walk, so running out of options, they chored a red Escort van and drove themselves home. They'd dumped the van away from their site but retrieved it again this morning to go out for the day. They owned a motor of their own, a pick-up truck, but with the ladders on the back it was too tuggable. They only used it for work as it was neither taxed nor insured.

  'Are you ready then, girls?'

  Leanne and Lucy were drunk but up for an adventure. Typical sixteen-year-olds, Leanne had told her mum she was staying at Lucy's house and vice versa. Neither mum had bothered to check their story. Both girls were virgins, led extremely boring lives and after a brief discussion in the toilets, they decided to take a chance and go for a drive with the two handsome lads that they'd met. Neither girl realised the boys were gypsies. They'd never met any before and wouldn't have known a pikey if they had fallen out the sky and smacked them on the head. They knew the boys had a funny accent, but surmised they came from up north or something. Leanne stood with her hand on her hip looking at Sonny and Freddie.

  'Look, we'll come for a drive with you, but don't try nothing on 'cause we're not like that. We're decent girls and we won't stay out all night, so you'll have to drop us back home later.'

  Both girls lived in Collier Row and were staying at their friend Kelly's. She ha
d an open house for a week as her parents had gone away. Kelly had been with them earlier, but had been sick and gone home early. Climbing into the back of the Escort van was a feat on its own. The girls felt woozy, but were filled with excitement.

  Obeying his cousin's orders to drive the van, Freddie put his foot down and headed towards his Uncle Sammy's place. Sammy had a disused trailer on a site near Harold Hill. The boys had their own key and regularly took birds back there.

  'You're driving like a prick, Freddie Boy, drive faster.'

  The girls in the back squealed excitedly, egging him on. Freddie was as thick as pigshit and just did as he was told. Sonny took a wad of money out of his pocket.

  'Let's have a little bet, Freddie Boy. I'll give you fifty quid if you aim straight at the next motor that comes towards you.'

  Freddie saw a red Mondeo heading his way and did as he was asked. He was frightened of his cousin Sonny, who was an out-and-out lunatic. He also had a very bad temper and Freddie didn't dare disobey him. Holding his breath, Freddie was relieved when the Mondeo swerved to the right and out of harm's way. The girls were screaming. This was such fun, it was like being on the rides at the fairground.

  'Aim at another one, Fred, and I'll double it, hundred quid I'll give you.'

  Freddie didn't want to play this game any more, but he headed at the oncoming grey Peugeot and winced as it just got out of the way in time.

  'No more, Sonny, this ain't funny any more.'

  Sonny sat in the front laughing like a hyena. He loved danger. He got off on it; he knew his cousin was shit scared and he was milking his fear. 'One more, Freddie Boy, and I'll double it again. Two hundred I'll give you if you aim at one more.'

  Driving towards home, Terry was deep in thought. He was doing buttons for the new baby to arrive. Jade was definitely having a boy, he could feel it in his bones and he knew Billie Jo would be over the moon. When she had been younger, Billie had often spoken of her desire to have a baby brother; hopefully her wish would soon be granted. Desperately missing his lover, Terry pictured their reunion.

  Happiness in life was hard to find and he knew that he and Jade were destined to go the whole hog of the way.

  Seeing the headlights in the distance, Freddie Boy felt sick with fear. If he bottled it, he'd be called a coward. If he went for it, he'd be deemed a hero. Weighing up his options, he put his foot on the accelerator and hurtled towards the oncoming Range Rover.

  Bored with the current CD, Terry decided a change was needed. Sifting through the glove box, he searched for his Johnny Cash. Taking his eyes off the road for a split second, he was completely unaware of the oncoming vehicle.

  'Wheyhey!' Sonny was almost creaming himself, such was his excitement. Rocking in the passenger seat, he urged his cousin on.

  'Ready. Foot down, Freddie. Go for it, go on now.'

  Looking up, Terry saw the van and knew he was in trouble. In a split second, he thought of Billie, Jade and the baby. Swerving violently to the left, he did everything in his power to save himself. 'FUUCCKK,' he screamed as the Range Rover flew into the air.

  'You stupid cunt, Sonny. You dinlo. The motor's off the road. We're for it. I'm telling ya, we're fucking for it.'

  'What's the matter?' Leanne asked innocently. She and Lucy were enjoying themselves in the back of the van. Giggling every time it swerved, they were totally unaware of the incident that had just occurred.

  Realising the girls were in the dark, Sonny grabbed his cousin's arm. 'Just shut up and drive to the site. Drop the girls there and we'll go, get rid of this thing.'

  Leaning towards Freddie, Sonny whispered the rest of his bright ideas into his ear. 'Tommy Boy'll burn this for us. Trust me, we'll be fine. The two fillies in the back know nothing. We're sweet, Freddie Boy. We've got an alibi.'

  Shaking like a leaf, Freddie glanced fearfully at the lunatic sitting beside him. Obediently, he did exactly as he was told.

  Alfie Smith was out walking Butch, his beloved Border collie two days later. Noticing the Range Rover, he trembled as he dialled 999.

  PC Collins and PC Galvin had just left a domestic dispute when the call came over their radio. The first to arrive, they immediately feared the worst. After a struggle, they managed to open the back door, driver's side.

  The stench of death confirmed their suspicions. The blood and gore were prominent and the partially decapitated head was squashed against the dashboard.

  Terry Keane was brown bread.

  A fast, painless death. Poor old Terry had died instantly.

  EIGHT

  'Mum, I'm going for a walk. I need to get out of the house, it's doing my head in. Ring me immediately if you hear any news.'

  Billie slammed the door without waiting for a reply and walked aimlessly along the road. Stopping to check her appearance in the wing mirror of a car, she was shocked to see how ill she looked. Her eyes were puffy and red raw from crying. Her dark hair looked greasy and unkempt and she seemed to have aged ten years overnight.

  Sitting herself down on a nearby wall, Billie took deep gulps of fresh air to help subdue her panic. She took her phone out of her pocket and dialled her dad's number again. A hundred times she must have tried him in the last couple of days. Hearing his answerphone message, Billie put her head in her hands and sobbed like a baby.

  Her dad had been missing for two days now and not a soul had heard a word from him. Yesterday, when she'd been trying to get hold of him, his phone had been ringing and ringing. Today there was just his answerphone message.

  Billie knew deep down that something bad had happened to him. It must have as he would never go away without telling her. He would never just leave her, no way in a million years. He loved her far too much to just up and go, she was sure of that. His disappearance was a total mystery and Billie racked her brains as to what had happened to him.

  Unsurprisingly, her mother was no help. All she'd done the past two days was knock back wine, cry and swear blind that he'd run off with some old tart. Her nan and aunt had been slightly more helpful. They'd contacted the local hospitals, but her dad wasn't there.

  Billie had casually asked her mum if she had Jade's mobile number to see if she knew where he was, but Chelle didn't know it. It didn't help that her dad had no address book. He knew all his numbers off by heart and the ones he didn't were stored in his phone, so that was that, there was no way of contacting anybody.

  Her mum knew Davey Mullins' number and had tried to contact him. He hadn't answered, so she'd left messages for him to call her back urgently. Dave was on the missing list as well. Her mum had called his bird, Lisa, but she hadn't seen hide nor hair. The thought that Dave was with her dad comforted Billie slightly. At least wherever he was, he wasn't alone. Billie had suggested to her mum earlier that they should call the police and report him as a missing person, but her mother was adamant that she didn't want coppers round the house. Her exact words were, 'I don't want them tossers coming round my house. Nosy cunts they are, wanting to know the ins and outs of a maggot's arse.' If he didn't show up by tomorrow though, her mum had promised to call them.

  Taking a slow walk towards home, Billie let herself into the house. 'Any news, Mum?'

  'Not a dickie bird,' Chelle slurred.

  It was only half eleven in the morning and Chelle had been drinking since eight to calm her nerves. Pearl was rocking to and fro on the sofa sobbing uncontrollably, whilst praying for Saint Anthony to find her boy. She was being comforted by a two-sheets-to-the-wind Bridie, who had been knocking the wine back with Chelle.

  Billie looked at her dysfunctional family and decided she couldn't sit in the room with them one minute longer.

  'I'm going up to my bedroom, Mum, to have a lie down. I've got a terrible headache.'

  'OK, Bill.'

  As Billie walked up the stairs she heard the loud shrill of the phone and rushed back down as fast as her legs could carry her. Her mother had the blower in her hand and was rambling away, talking shit.

  '
Where is he, Dave? If he's with some bird you can tell me you know. I know he's got a bit on the side, you must know where he is?'

  Realising the caller was Davey Mullins, Billie snatched the phone off her mother.

  'Let me talk to him, Mum, you've had too much to drink and he won't be able to understand you. Dave, it's Billie. Have you been with my dad? We haven't seen him since Boxing Day and we don't know what to do.'

  Dave sounded shocked. 'I was in a pub with him Boxing Night, Bill, but he left early and I stayed there. Ain't he been home at all?'

  'No, Dave, and we're so worried about him. Can you ring around anyone who might know where he is for us and let us know if anyone has seen him?'

  'He definitely said he was going home when he left me. Bill, listen, don't worry, I'll have a ring around and then I'll come round to you. Give me about half an hour.'

  'Thanks, Dave.' Billie was relieved. At least Dave would know what to do for the best, which was more than could be said for the rest of her useless family.

  Hearing the doorbell go twenty-five minutes later, Billie rushed into the hallway and let Dave in. Gesticulating for him to follow her to the kitchen, so she was out of earshot of her mother, Billie shut the door.

  'Look, Dave, I know about Jade, Dad told me recently. Do you think he could be with her?'

  Dave shook his head. 'I'm sorry, girl, but I've just been on the phone to her. Jade hasn't heard from him either and she's worried sick. He left her a message on Boxing Night, but she's heard nothing from him since.'

  'Bill, what you doing? Bring Dave in here,' came her mother's coarse voice.

  'Coming, Mum. I'm just getting Dave a drink.'

  Sitting in the living room, Dave relayed the events of his night in the pub with Terry to his family. 'So I can't remember exactly what time he left, but it must have been about midnight and he definitely said he was coming home.'

  'Where have you been for the last two days then, Dave?' Chelle slurred. 'Only Lisa said that you hadn't been home either. You sure you're not just covering up for him?'