Free Billie Jo by Kimberley Chambers Page B

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