TWELVE

January 2001

Billie walked into the office and sat down at her desk. She had recently been employed as an office junior at a major company in Romford and was loving every minute of it.

'Morning, Bill.' Her new best mate, Carly, sat down at the desk next to her. Carly was also employed as an office junior and being the same age, the girls had the same interests and had already built a strong friendship.

'Shall we go down the market at lunchtime, Carly?'

Carly grinned at her friend. 'Definitely.'

The girls spent every lunch break together. The market days were their favourite as they had a major flirtation going on with two boys that worked on one of the fruit and veg stalls. Last week the lads had finally asked them on a date and Billie and Carly had talked of little else since. The four of them were meeting up at seven o'clock this coming Saturday at Romford station. Billie and Carly could hardly believe their luck. The boys were well fit.

Billie Jo sat at her desk and smiled. For the first time since her dad had died, she actually felt happy again. The past year had been traumatic to say the least and at times she'd felt like she was stuck in a big, black hole. Recently though, she felt as if she'd come out the other end of it. Hopefully, the worst was now well and truly over.

Billie would never be able to accept her dad dying, but she no longer blamed herself. She knew that if she lived till she was a hundred, not a day would go by without her thinking about him. His voice, his laughter, his charm. There wasn't a word to describe just how much she missed him.

Her new job was one thing that had helped her immensely. She'd been all set to go to college to do a hair and beauty course, until Tiff 's mum had told her about the vacancy as office junior. Mrs Ross, who had interviewed her, had been pre-warned of what a shit time she'd been through. Enchanted by Billie's sweetness, she'd offered her an immediate start. Billie was overjoyed. The office was smart, the people were nice and there were good prospects in the future if she did well.

Carly had been the next good thing to happen to Billie Jo. Being quite a big company, it was decided they were to have two office juniors to work alongside one another. As soon as Billie met Carly, she knew she'd found a friend for life and within weeks they were inseparable. Billie was pleased she had a new best friend as Tiffany had gone off to drama school. Although they were still in touch, her and Tiff 's lives had now taken different paths.

'You ready to go to lunch, Bill?' Carly stood up, gesticulating for her friend to follow her. After quickly devouring a sandwich, the girls headed to the market. Giggling, they walked towards the fruit and veg stall, arm in arm.

'Come and get your bananas. All cheap today, girls. Come and see the man with the big banana.'

Billie knew it was the dark one's voice even before she reached the stall. Danny was his name and that was all she knew about him. The one Carly liked seemed to be the quieter out of the two, he was tall and blond and his name was Jamie.

'Hello, girls. Youse two look ravishing, as per usual.' Danny O'Leary threw his bananas down and nodded to Jeff, his boss. 'Give us five minutes, guv, eh?' Without waiting for a reply, he armed himself with his killer smile and bowled over towards Billie and Carly.

Danny O'Leary was twenty-one years old. At five foot ten, of slight build, with dark wavy hair, blue eyes and a cheeky smile, he was one good-looking little fucker with the gift of the gab to go with it. Brought up in the backstreets of East Ham, Danny had learned to be streetwise from a very early age. The eldest of five children, Danny had grown up being the man around the house and over the years a lot of weight had been put on his young shoulders.

His mother, Brenda O'Leary, was an ex-working girl. Having patrolled the streets for many years just to put food in her kids' mouths, Brenda looked a lot older than her forty-two years. On giving up the game, Brenda had wanted out of the area where she was notorious for plying her trade. With a bit of bargaining, she'd managed to swap council houses with a woman from Dagenham Heathway.

They must have looked a funny old bunch from an outsider's point of view. Danny was half Irish, two of his brothers were half Jamaican and his sister's dad had been a Pakistani. For all his faults, Danny had been a good brother to his siblings and a good son to his mum. Every week he treated them out of his wages and made sure they never went without anything.

'I'll see you at seven on Saturday then, babe.' Danny felt a stirring inside as he waved goodbye to Billie. He liked this one a lot. Normally birds didn't tug at his heartstrings. He usually just loved 'em and left 'em, but there was something about Billie Jo that was different. She was a stunner, with a sweet naïvety about her. She also had class and in Danny's past experience, class usually equalled money.

Danny picked up the bananas and carried on where he'd left off. Calling Jamie over he gave him a wink. 'We've had a result with them two little birds, Jamie my son.'

Jamie smiled a false smile. He'd liked Billie Jo himself. She was beautiful. Her mate Carly was OK, but not in Billie's league. He was used to ending up with second best when Danny was about, he could never compete with him.

Billie Jo spent the rest of her afternoon mixing work with daydreaming. O'Leary was his surname, she'd found that out at lunchtime, and she couldn't help thinking Billie O'Leary had a certain ring to it. For the first time in her young life Billie had been hit with the love bug. She'd had a few boyfriends in the past. Dean she'd quite liked, Brad had been pleasant, Chrissie she'd gone on a couple of dates with, but none of them had been serious and her virginity was still intact.

At five o'clock, Carly grabbed Billie's arm and almost dragged her from the office.

'What are we gonna wear? I think we should go to Lakeside on Saturday morning and treat ourselves to something special.'

'Sounds good to me,' Billie replied, a silly smile on her face. Whispering and giggling like two naughty school-kids, the girls grabbed their coats and left the building.

As she pounded the treadmill, Chelle glanced into the mirror and studied herself. The weight had piled on after Terry had died. Months she'd spent boozing and comfort eating and finally, disgusted by her appearance, she'd found an inner strength to do something about it. Rejoining Weight Watchers had been the first step. By saving half of her points for alcohol, she'd managed to lose a stone. Unfortunately, she had reached a standstill and become increasingly frustrated at her weekly weigh-ins. Putting on three pounds was the final straw for Chelle. Abusing the team leader by calling her an ugly fat cunt, she'd demanded a refund and left the building with her head held high.

Desperation had forced her to pay a visit to the diet doctor in Brentwood. The pills he'd supplied were great at suppressing the appetite, but had left her feeling hyper and unable to sleep. Feeling like a zombie, she'd had to leave them off.

Losing weight had improved Chelle's confidence, resulting in a new man on the scene, a 28-year-old body-builder she'd met in a bar in Hornchurch. His name was Nathan. For two weeks they'd been dating and in the last twenty-four hours they had finally consummated their relationship. Her friends weren't so sure about him.

'Don't like him. Shifty bastard,' Julie had told her bluntly.

'All muscle and no brain,' Suzie had added.

'Look, nobody begrudges you a bit of happiness, but just be careful, Chelle. He looks like a gold-digger to me,' Hazel had advised her.

Being her own woman, Chelle had decided to ignore their advice for the time being. She'd been chomping at the bit for some excitement in her life and was determined to enjoy every minute of it. Terry was history now and she felt nothing but bitterness and contempt for him and their so-called marriage. The only thing she had to thank him for was for killing himself and leaving her loaded. She now despised him and the thought of him being nibbled on by worms, whilst she spent his dirty cash, amused her immensely.

She'd sold the car lot soon after he died to an Indian fella called Moses. She'd knocked a few grand off the asking price on the understanding that Jade wasn't to be reinstated. Emptying the safe had been the biggest touch of all. No one knew the combination, bar Charlie Bigbananas himself. Davey Mullins had been desperate to get a look inside, but Chelle had changed the locks and barred him from the premises. She had then hired a security firm with obese-looking Rottweilers to guard the joint.

Roger had finally come to her rescue. A retired bank robber and an old pal of Hazel's late husband, he'd known exactly how to open the bastard thing.

Chelle had been gobsmacked by the fortune hidden inside. Five grand she'd given Roger for his troubles. She'd then chucked a handful of money into the air and laughed with glee as it fluttered to the floor.

Her poor old dad dying had added to Chelle's ever-growing bank account. Years, the poor old sod had spent in cloud cuckoo land at the local nuthouse. His death had been a godsend to herself and anyone who had ever cared about him. The house Terry had bought for him and the old slapper had been Chelle's only fly in the ointment. No deeds were found in his name and her solicitor had advised her to forget all about it.

Reverting her attentions back to Nathan, Chelle turned up the treadmill. Jogging didn't burn enough calories; she needed to sprint.

Five minutes later, she was shattered. Wiping the sweat from her face, she picked up her bag and strolled confidently out of the gym.

Saturday finally arrived for an excited Billie Jo.

'Hurry up, Carly. The shops will be bloody shut by the time we get there.' Giggling, Carly switched off her straighteners. 'I'm ready. Lakeside here we come.'

As they browsed around the shops, the girls were filled with anticipation, discussing the big date, while they purchased their outfits.

'I think Danny is the fittest boy I've ever met.'

'No, Jamie's better.'

Too excited to eat, they headed to McDonald's for a milkshake.

'Whatever's the matter? Are you OK, Bill?'

Deathly white, Billie stood rooted to the spot.

'That's her. Over there. That's Jade with the baby.'

'What baby?'

'My dad's baby.'

Turning towards her friend, Billie urged her to make herself scarce. 'I have to go and talk to her and see my little brother.'

Carly understood Billie's predicament and squeezed her hand as she left her to it.

'Jade.'

As she turned around, Jade came face to face with a part of her beloved Terry.

'Hello, Billie. How are you?'

Glancing into the pushchair, Billie's eyes filled up with tears. He was the cutest baby ever and had all the features of her father.

'Can I hold him?'

Jade nodded. Terry Junior smiled as the stranger took him into her arms.

'Oh, Jade. He's absolutely gorgeous and he looks just like Daddy.'

'I named him after your dad,' Jade replied. Her emotions had spun into overdrive and she could now barely speak.

Overcome by the sight of Terry Junior, Billie couldn't bear to be parted from him.

'Have you got time for a coffee?'

Three cappuccinos and two pieces of chocolate cake later, Jade and Billie were firm friends.

'Did you know that I'd had a little boy?'

Billie nodded. Her mother had callously informed her ages ago of the birth and sex of the child. 'Someone told me in Tesco's today that the old slapper had a boy,' Chelle had slurred. 'The son of the Antichrist. You mark my words, Billie. That little bastard will turn out to be the devil's fucking work.'

Ignoring her mother's nasty comments, Billie had run to her room, overjoyed. She'd have hated the baby to have been a girl. She had been desperate to be her dad's only daughter. A boy she could handle, a brother was just fine.

As she tore her eyes away from Terry Junior, Billie smiled at Jade. 'I'd love to see him again. Do you think we can keep in touch?'

'Of course we can, but it's awkward, Billie. What about your mum?'

Deciding to trust her instincts, Billie spoke honestly.

'Me and Mum don't get on at all. She had no time for me when Dad was alive and she's no different now. I've tried to get along with her, but she just can't be bothered with me.'

Jade felt so sorry for Billie. Fleetingly, thinking of Terry, she decided to do what he would have wanted. Scribbling her phone number down on a piece of paper, she handed it to her.

'Your dad would be over the moon, Billie, for us to be friends. He was desperate for me and you to get along and be properly acquainted. You can ring me anytime, day or night. I'd be honoured for you to be part of my life and so would your little brother.'

Overjoyed at the unexpected invitation, Billie's smile lit up Lakeside.

'Thanks, Jade. I'm so glad we bumped into one another. I'll call you tomorrow.'

* * *

Danny O'Leary sat in the pub and slid his hand up the girl's short skirt. As he waited for a reaction, he smirked as he saw her smile. Girls were just so predictable and this one was up for it with a capital U. Glancing at the clock, he knew it was decision time. Did he bin this slag and meet Billie Jo? Or did he shag the slag and save Billie Jo for a later date? His decision was made for him as the manicured hand made a beeline for his cock. Feeling his erection take over, he called Jamie and asked him to sort it.

'Go to the station and tell the girls that we can't make it. Tell 'em me nan died this morning.'

Jamie was fuming. 'I can't do that. You're out of order, Dan. They're nice girls. You're such a fucking arsehole.'

Danny cut his pal off, grinned and turned his attention back to the slag.

Furious, Jamie slung his phone onto the bed. He was sick of doing Danny's dirty work and this was the final straw.

Billie and Carly glanced at one another. It was freezing and the boys were over an hour late. Trudging towards the nearby cab office, Billie squeezed her friend's hand.

'Maybe my nan was right after all.'

Miserable and cold, it was an effort for Carly to answer. 'What's your nan got to do with us being blown out?'

' "Never trust a man, Billie, until he's seven days dead," that's what she kept telling me.'

Disillusioned with boys and life in general, the girls travelled home in complete silence.