Authors: Kimberley Chambers
The fun would really start once the funeral was over
and Dave held his hand out for a big fat cheque. 'Go fuck
yourself,' she would tell him. 'Go and ask Jade for the
money, you cunt.' Michelle's thoughts were interrupted
by the video tape that was still playing. The wedding
march was the last thing she needed to watch. Ejecting
it, Chelle calmly walked into the kitchen, poured herself
a glass of wine and ripped the video tape to shreds.
This was a new start for her now, a new beginning.
No more worrying what her no-good bastard of a husband
was up to or worrying about being left penniless. Chelle
felt a strange kind of calmness wash over her. She felt
relief. All her worries were now over. The no-good shitcunt
could hurt her no more.
Opening the patio doors in the conservatory, she
wandered out into the garden. Looking up into the sky,
she focused on one star in particular. It was the one that
stood out from all of the rest. Holding her wine glass up
in a kind of salute, Chelle thought carefully about what
she wanted to say.
'Goodbye, Charlie Bigbananas, looks like your luck
finally ran out. Oh and by the way, I hope you rot in hell.'
'Billie, are you awake yet? Come on, love, chop, chop.'
Hearing the sound of her mother's voice, Billie put her
head back under the covers. Awake? That was a joke,
seeing as she hadn't slept a wink all night. Today was the
day of her father's funeral and Billie had never dreaded
anything so much. How she was going to get through the
day she really didn't know. She didn't feel strong enough
to deal with anything and the thought of her dad being
inside a wooden box was making her hyperventilate.
Hearing her mother's feet marching up the stairs, Billie
quickly jumped out of bed.
Michelle stood at the door with her hand on her hip.
'Oh, you are up. I came up to wake you, I thought you
were still asleep.'
'I don't feel well, Mum. I don't think I can go, I'm
not strong enough to face it. I didn't sleep again last night
and my breathing feels funny.'
Michelle studied Billie and noticed how much weight
she'd lost. She'd always been slim but now she looked
like a borderline anorexic.
'He was your dad, Billie. You have to go. Get dressed
and I'll make you some breakfast. You only feel ill because
you haven't been eating and sleeping properly. You'll be
OK after we've got today out of the way. You'll feel much
better then.'
Billie watched her mother walk out the room. She was
just so uncaring. The way she'd felt this past week, she
knew that things would never be better again. Her dad
was gone for good and Billie couldn't believe that she was
never going to see him, hear his voice, or feel his muscular
arms around her ever again. She felt like she was having
a really bad nightmare and any minute now she would
wake up. If only she could pinch herself and suddenly
realise it was all just a bad dream.
Billie got showered. Choosing a knee-length black
dress, opaque tights, black shoes and a short black jacket,
she forced herself to get ready. She finished the outfit
off with a pair of black sunglasses, so her tears could
flow freely without anybody noticing. She needed to be
able to indulge her grief in private. Taking a deep breath
she walked down the stairs. Her legs felt like jelly, but she
had to try and be brave, be strong, that's what her dad
would have wanted. Sitting down at the kitchen table she
tried to eat some toast but struggled to swallow it. It tasted
like cardboard and seemed to stick in her throat.
Michelle poured herself a large glass of wine and went
to get changed. She decided on a black Armani trouser
suit, high-heeled Jimmy Choo shoes, a black wide brimmed
hat, and a pair of tinted D & G sunglasses.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she felt good.
This pleased her. A new chapter in her life was about to
begin and her confidence was the key to it.
Friends and family started arriving at the house around
midday. The funeral itself was being held at half past two
at Corbetts Tey Cemetery in Upminster. The local florist's
must have had a field day with the amount of flowers
that had been placed on the front lawn and drive.
Billie had chosen and bought her own flowers. She'd
spent the rest of her Christmas money on a massive
'DADDY' arrangement. She'd pleaded with her mum to
accompany her to the florist, but Chelle had refused.
'Your father never liked flowers. Waste of fucking
money, Bill. Don't bother with 'em. As soon as your father
gets slung in the ground, the bastard things get chucked
away.'
Distraught, Billie had cried for hours. Tiff 's parents
had eventually taken her to choose her display:
'To my wonderful Daddy.
Without you my life is so empty.
I pray that one day we will meet again
Love Always
From your Little Princess xxxxx'
Billie had found writing the card extremely difficult,
but had tearfully forced herself to do it.
Noticing her nan sitting alone on a chair, Billie sat next
to her and tried to console her. Pearl looked dreadfully ill
and for the first time ever, Billie actually felt something
for her. Davey Mullins sat down next to them and put his
arm round Billie's shoulders. 'You all right, girl?'
'Not really, Dave, but I'm going to try and be strong
for my dad's sake. Do you know where my mum is? I
can't find her.'
'I think she's upstairs, with her mates.'
Billie heard the noisy laughter before she reached the
top of the stairs. Opening the bedroom door, one look at
her mother told her all she needed to know.
'How much you had to drink, Mum? Couldn't you
have stayed sober today of all days? What are people
going to think, when they see you in that state?'
Michelle glared at her daughter. 'Who the fuck do you
think you're talking to? Don't try and put me down in
front of all my friends. I tell you something, Bill, you
don't know the half of it. You just think your father was
Mr Fucking Wonderful, well I'm telling you now he wasn't.
You ain't got a clue what that bastard has put me through.'
Billie looked at her mother with pure hatred. 'Well, he
was Mr Wonderful to me, Mum. How dare you slag him
off on the day he's due to be buried! Have you got no
respect whatsoever?'
Chelle jumped off the bed, grabbed Billie by the shoulders
and shook her violently. 'Let me tell you something,
Bill. When your dad smashed his car to pieces, he was
out of his head on drink and drugs. Oh, and by the way,
you've also got a half-brother or -sister in the making.
He was shagging his slut of a secretary and he's got her
up the duff. Don't fucking talk down to me, Billie Jo,
I've just about had a gutful of it.'
Hazel grabbed Chelle by the arm. 'Leave it now, Chelle,
you've said enough. He was her dad, bless her. Don't take
his wrongdoings out on her, it's not fair, mate.'
Billie let out a sob, put her hands over her ears and ran
from the room. She couldn't take any more; surely her
mum must be lying. Her dad didn't take drugs and there
couldn't be a baby on the way. Her dad wouldn't have kept
that secret from her. He would have told her, wouldn't he?
Chelle got into the first funeral car with Hazel, Suzie,
Julie and Lisa. She'd flatly refused to travel with Terry's
family, she couldn't stand the sight of them. Noticing
Billie standing on the drive, Chelle shouted out to her,
'Come on, Bill, get in here with us.'
Billie looked at her mother with daggers. 'I'm not
going anywhere with you, Mum. I'm getting in the other
car with Nanny. I'd rather sit with her than you.'
Chelle wanted to jump out of the car, grab her daughter
by the arm and drag her in, but decided against making
a scene. Too many eyes were watching. Inside she was
seething. It was her that had been lied to, cheated on and
humiliated beyond belief. Billie had needed to know the
truth. Chelle knew that she'd been a bit brutal, but she
was glad she'd told her. She was sick of Billie constantly
putting Terry on a pedestal. Well, no more. The kid had
it in writing, see what she made of 'Daddy of the Year'
now then.
Jade opened the back window of the Land Rover and
gulped in the cool fresh air that greeted her. How she was
going to pass herself once they finally reached the cemetery,
only God knew. She could hardly walk into the
service, could she now?
She'd had no intentions of going to the funeral. The
situation was far too awkward. Davey Mullins had been
in touch informing her that Chelle knew everything and
was on the warpath. A brief discussion followed, with
Dave and her both deciding that paying her last respects
was totally out of the question.
'It ain't worth the agg, Jade. Terry knew how much
you loved him. His main concern would be for you and
the baby now and he certainly wouldn't want you to walk
into a hornet's nest.'
Agreeing with his point of view, Jade informed her
parents of her decision. Unfortunately for her, her parents
had other ideas.
'You have to go to the funeral. Terry's the father of
the child you're carrying. How can you not say your goodbyes
to him?'
Stuck for an answer and unable to tell her parents the
truth, Jade had burst into tears.
Mary had held her daughter in her arms and comforted
her the best she could.
'Now, now, Jade. You must be strong, lovey. I know
this is an awful situation, but you must pay your last
respects. You won't be alone. Me and Daddy will be there
to support you.'
Unable to argue, Jade had no other option than to agree.
Hence the situation she now found herself in.
Pulling into the cemetery, Jade urged her parents to
park as near to the gates as possible.
'Now, why don't you let me and Daddy come with
you?' her mother insisted, unlocking her seat belt.
'No, Mum. Please don't follow me. I've told you why.
Just leave it at that, will you?'
Ignoring her mother's hurt expression, Jade put on her
black hat, secured her sunglasses and headed towards the
chapel. She held her head low and prayed that she wouldn't
be recognised.
As soon as she was far enough away, she ducked out
of sight of her parents' car and sidled around the side of
the building. The toilets were her only get-out clause, and
on entering she was relieved to find that they were empty.
Dashing into a cubicle, she locked it, put the seat down,
fell onto it and cried.
The journey to the cemetery seemed never-ending to Billie.
She couldn't believe that her dad was inside the coffin. She
almost expected him to pop his head out at any moment
and say, 'All right, Princess?' Travelling with the Keane
clan made the journey seem longer as well. Her nan was
inconsolable, Aunt Bridie didn't stop praying, her Uncle
John was knocking back Tennent's Extra, and as for her
dad's other brother, Michael, he was just a complete not right
and spent the whole journey talking to himself.
Pulling up at the cemetery, Billie was relieved to see
Tiffany and her parents. Tiff 's parents, Karen and Tim,
were lovely people and had been so kind to her since her
father's death. She'd been staying with them on and off
and without them she didn't know how she would have
managed. They hadn't really known her dad that well but
had promised to attend the funeral as support for her more
than anything else.
The chapel was full to the brim. Terry had been a very
popular guy and everyone that knew him wanted to pay
their last respects. The ones that couldn't fit in stood
outside to mourn.
Benny Bones, Davey Mullins and Terry's brothers
carried the coffin. Pearl had insisted that Michael and
John be involved; Terry was their brother after all.
The service itself was extremely moving. Davey
Mullins got up and gave a speech, making everybody
laugh by talking about some of the scrapes he and Terry
had gotten into. Father Peter gave a wonderful sermon
and told the congregation what an amazing man Terry
had been. When he read the poem that Billie had written
about her father, there was hardly a dry eye in the church.
The service ended with Terry's favourite song, the Johnny
Cash classic, 'Ring of Fire'.
Chelle sat through the service with gritted teeth. She
was surreptitiously knocking back the small bottle of
whisky that she'd tucked away in her handbag. She would
have loved to stand up when Father Peter was rambling
on about what a kind, wonderful father and husband Terry
had been. She'd have liked to have told the mourners what
a no-good, drug-taking, womanising bastard he really was,
but Hazel had stopped her. Chelle had laughed as the
music started to play. 'I fell into a burning ring of fire'
tickled Chelle's warped sense of humour. 'Shame the cunt
wasn't cremated,' she said to Hazel. Nudging her, Hazel
had shot her a look, urging her to behave herself. In all
truthfulness she hadn't really listened to much of the actual
service. She'd been too busy scanning the crowds in the
church, to see if she could spot the no-good slut of a
secretary. Luckily for Jade, she couldn't see hide nor hair
of her. She was glad she'd listened to Hazel. Putting on
a front was the only way and Bette Davis couldn't have
acted any better than she had today.
Father Peter smiled as he led the congregation
outside for the actual burial. He was enjoying himself
immensely today. He loved a packed church and a big
funeral, the busier the better. Father Peter had a secret
obsession with death. In his eyes, a good send-off was
better than an orgasm. Who needed sex when death
was on the menu? He was positive that the deceased
would shortly be moving on to a much better life than
this one. Oh, yes, death made him a very happy man
indeed. In fact, he was quite looking forward to his
own passing over.
Billie stood sobbing at the opposite side of the grave
to her mother. She was being comforted by Tiff and her
mum, Karen. Chelle's face was like thunder. Billie should
be standing next to her, for Christ's sake. What must all
the girls from the gym think with her daughter cuddling
up to some complete bloody stranger?
'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' Father Peter was in his
element.
Glancing over to her right, Chelle noticed a lone figure,
partially hidden behind a tree. Immediately realising it
was Jade, she failed to contain herself. 'Oi, you fucking
slag,' she screamed.
Father Peter looked up in horror. This wasn't part of
the plan. Hazel tried to grab her friend but Chelle was
having none of it. 'Let me go, Hazel. I mean it, if it was
your Stan, you'd do the same thing.'
Billie ran round to her mother's side of the grave,
pushing the crowd away in the process. Grabbing Chelle
by the shoulders, she pleaded with her. 'Mum, please
don't do this, not today. I loved my dad. How dare you
ruin this day for him?'
Chelle had her Rottweiler expression on now, like a
dog that's had its bone taken away. 'Leave it, Bill. This
has fuck all to do with you.'
'Mum, you're drunk. Please don't make a show of us.
We're at a place of worship.'