Billie Jo (3 page)

Terry and Archie didn't bother with any middle of the
range motors, all the vehicles involved were top jolly,
including Mercs, BMWs, Jags and Range Rovers to name
but a few.

They had over a dozen salvage yards dotted across the
south-east that notified them of any suitable vehicle and
readily accepted a large backhander for their trouble. It
was an easy little scam, and very profitable, but just lately
things had started to get a bit on top of them.

Archie Cox, who organised all the shipping and was
also the man that had all the contacts, had started to
become greedy. At fifty-eight and already as rich as any
fucker would ever need to be, Archie had decided to retire
at sixty and head off to live in his villa in sunny Marbella.

Being a gluttonous bastard and also becoming a bit
careless in his latter years, Archie decided that he could
improve on his income and he recruited a few extra lads
to do some motors up locally. He was hoping his new
venture would pull in at least another fifty grand a month.

Terry had adamantly wanted nothing to do with Archie's
new idea. He'd told him he must be bonkers to change a
system that had worked so well for years and he'd insisted
he was playing with fire. Archie should have listened to
the advice he was being given, as six months later the
Old Bill raided a yard just off the Bow Road and found
three of the ringers. Archie was jailed for four years.

Terry wasn't surprised when he heard about the arrest.
Archie had played too close to home. He had no worries
about the old boy opening his mouth. He was one of the
old school and would rather have his bollocks cut off than
grass up a mate. Terry felt so sorry for the poor old sod.
He couldn't understand why a man who had the credentials
of Baron Rockefeller would choose to be so greedy
in his last couple of working years. Nothing like that
would ever happen to him while he had a hole in his arse;
he was far too clued up to go down that road.

Years ago, Terry could easily have taken over Archie's
contacts and run the show himself, but he'd chosen not
to. He'd rather pay the old boy a percentage, which is
what he'd done for the last fifteen years. Archie took sixty
per cent of the profits and Terry took forty. What's
ten per cent if it keeps your name out of 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
leopard skin 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 he's only just bothered to come
and talk to me and see if I'm all right.'

Terry gave his wife a pitying look. 'Don't start, Chelle,
not tonight. I'm tired, Billie's here and I'm really not in
the mood for your fucking antics. Your eyes are rolling,
how much you had to drink?'

'I've only had a few. Keeping tabs on me are you?' Chelle
replied cockily. Michelle rarely gave it the big-'un indoors.
She was far too scared that Terry would walk out the door
and not come back. Things changed, though, as soon as she
met up with her gym pals. As soon as Chelle was in their
company, her personality changed completely. She liked to
give it the big-'un, make out she wore the trousers and ruled
the roost. Instead of looking cool, she made herself look
incredibly stupid. A complete prat in fact.

Terry sat quietly, sipping his JD and Coke, surveying
the situation. The karaoke had now started and Benny
had been the first one to get up singing with his rendition
of 'Mack the Knife'. Terry smiled to himself whilst
weighing up the women around him.

Lisa was a typical Dave-type of bird. Blonde, young,
tarty, she was as common and as thick as two short planks.
He'd only just moved his last bird out a few weeks before
he'd met Lisa, then within a month he'd moved her in.
Davey Boy was one of these blokes who hated living on
his own and Terry had lost count of the amount of birds
he'd had living with him over the years. The one thing
they all had in common was that they were all in their
twenties, brainless and dressed like whores. Terry glanced
around at the rest of the table.

Hazel Short, Terry had quite a lot of time for. He'd
known her old man Stan quite well and knew that Hazel
had been the brains behind Stan's bollocks. She was well
clued up, was Hazel, and definitely no man's fool. Stan
had been dead for years now and Hazel's fortune just
went on growing and growing.

Suzie Robinson, Terry wasn't quite so sure about. She
came across as pleasant enough but he'd always hated her
current old man Richie, so he had his reservations about
her.

Julie Beale frightened Terry more than any woman he'd
ever met in his lifetime. He'd always imagined that she'd
been born a boy, had her bollocks chopped off, took
hormone tablets, grown tits and overnight had renamed
herself Julie. He knew that for years she'd plied her trade
at the local wash-and-wank shop, and he couldn't believe
that any man could be that desperate to want to fuck
someone that looked like Giant Haystacks with tits.

'Right, can I have Michelle and the gang up on stage
please.'

'Come on, girls, that's us,' Chelle said excitedly,
galloping towards the karaoke.

'You all right, Dad?' Billie noticed her father sitting
alone at the table and decided to join him. She had been
standing with a couple of girls and a crowd of lads near
the stage, but as soon as she'd seen her mother and her
friends leap up there, she'd decided to make a quick exit.
Scott, whom she'd been talking to, was a nice lad and
she didn't want to have to explain that the fat drunken
woman on stage was her mother.

'I'm all right, Bill. You having a good time, girl? Who
are them lads you were standing with?'

'I know one of them from school, Dad, but the one
with the short blond hair that I've been chatting to is
Scott. He's a really nice boy. He's seventeen and has a
really good job up town. He's asked me to go to the
pictures next week, do you mind if I go, Dad?'

'I want to have a look at him first, Princess. Bring him
over, so I can vet him and if I like the look of him, you
can go. Deal?'

'Yes, deal. I know you'll like him, Dad, he's really
nice.'

After absolutely murdering Diana Ross's 'Baby Love',
Chelle and her pals went on to crucify 'Young Hearts
Run Free', followed by 'Leader of the Pack'. Karaoke
Kevin, who was a student by day and did his night-time
job to pay for his education, had now had a gutful of the
four women standing on the stage who refused to leave.

'Now come on, girls, you must get off the stage. Other
people are waiting to have a turn.'

'Shut up, you mug, and give us the mike back,' Kevin
heard one of the girls say. He really didn't need this shit.
All of the lads he roomed with from uni had jobs working
in Tesco or Sainsbury's to earn a bit of pocket money.
Kevin decided there and then that he was selling the
karaoke equipment his parents had bought for him and
would join his friends on the checkouts as quickly as
possible.

Chelle stood on the stage, glaring at Kevin. 'Look, I
promise,' she slurred. 'Let me sing one more and that's
it.'

Kevin didn't really have any choice in the matter. 'OK,
just one more song.'

Michelle looked at her friends. 'Now sod off, girls,
and let me sing this one on my own. I want to dedicate
it to my wonderful fucking husband.'

Hazel, Suzie and Julie could feel trouble brewing and
left the stage without argument. None of them wanted to
get on the wrong side of Terry.

'Right, ladies and gentlemen,' Kevin announced, 'I have
a lady here who wants to dedicate a song to her husband.'

Michelle stood at the front of the stage with the mike
in her hand. She was drunk now, really drunk, and was
swaying from side to side. She didn't care, she felt really
important, the hall was silent and she had everybody's
attention. 'This song is going out especially for my
other half. Everyone knows who he is, 'cause he is the
ultimate Charlie Bigbananas.'

At this point the hall was so quiet, you could have
heard a pin drop. 'Well, I want all you people to know,
he thinks I'm stupid and I'm anything but. I know he's
having an affair and all I can say is lucky her, whoever
she is. Tel, this song's for you, babe.' Chelle then
proceeded to sing Chas and Dave's 'Ain't No Pleasing
You'.

Terry and Billie sat at the table feeling absolutely
mortified.

'Dad, I'm so embarrassed, what are we gonna do?
What will Scott and my friends think of me?'

Terry looked at his daughter's flushed cheeks and could
have cried for her. 'Don't worry, Bill, it's your mother
that's showed herself up, not you. Your friends won't think
any less of you, darling, and I'll tell you what me and
you will do. The day you turn sixteen, we're leaving your
mother for good. We'll get a nice place of our own, just
the two of us.'

'Really? Oh, Dad, I'd love that. Do you really mean
it?'

'I'm not joking, Princess. I'm deadly serious. Between
me and you, it's something I've had planned for ages.
I've never said anything to you before, the time just wasn't
right.'

'Oh Dad, I can't wait. It'll be great me and you sharing
a house together.' Billie forgot about her embarrassment
briefly. She couldn't think of anything better than getting
away from her mother. Over the years, Billie had tried so
hard to build a relationship with her, she really had, but
all her efforts had amounted to nothing. Her mother had
no time for her and that was that. Billie had just had to
learn to live with it.

'Oh darling, I'm a-a leaving, that's what I'm gonna
do-oo-oo-oo.'

Kevin snatched the mike back quickly. 'A round of
applause for Michelle, everybody.' Nobody clapped.
Trotting down the stairs that adjoined the stage, Michelle
promptly stacked it and fell flat on her face.

'Dad, quick, do something, she's fell over.' Billie could
feel her little heart beating nineteen to the dozen. In fact
she wished the ground would just open up and swallow
her.

'Move out the way,' Terry snarled, as he barged his
way across the dance floor and into the crowd that
surrounded his wife. Michelle was lying on the floor, like
a rhino. The crotch of her trousers had split as she fell,
and because she rarely wore knickers, her Jack and Danny
was hanging out for all to see. Davey Boy and Terry each
took one arm and dragged her towards a table near the
door.

'Are you OK, son?' Benny Bones asked Terry sympathetically.

'What do you think?' Terry replied, shooting him a
look.

'I'm not drunk you know,' Chelle slurred. 'It's these
new shoes. I slipped.'

Propping her on the nearest chair, Terry fished around
in her handbag for his car keys. Ordering Dave to stand
guard over her, he gestured for Billie to follow him outside.

'I'm never going out with her again, Dad,' Billie said,
sobbing.

Terry looked at his daughter and felt so sorry for her.
She was a wonderful kid and really didn't deserve to have
that thing as a mother. Still, it was his fault really. He'd
married the fucking monster and provided her with his
sperm in the first place.

'Did you really mean it, Dad, when you said that we
could move away soon?'

Terry unlocked the Range Rover, sat Billie in the front
seat and clicked her seat belt shut. Smiling, he spoke
clearly. 'Listen, Bill, you're not a kid any more and I've
had this planned a while. I know I can trust you and
there's some other stuff I need to tell you as well. Some
of it you might not like. Let's just concentrate on getting
your mother home tonight and then tomorrow I'll take
you out for lunch. We'll go somewhere quiet and I promise
I'll tell you everything.'

'OK, Dad, but you must tell me the truth. I'm not a
child any more.'

'You'll get the truth, Princess, I swear.'

Terry had never felt more humiliated in his whole life
as when he and Dave carried Chelle out from the reception.
He was used to her getting pissed and stacking it.
That was her usual party piece, but to get up on the stage
and make a show of him over the mike. She'd gone too
far this time and he would make sure that she damn well
paid for it.

To behave like that in front of Billie was unforgivable.
Michelle's days were well and truly numbered.

Nobody made Terry Keane look a cunt and got away
with it. Nobody!