Forever Is Over (57 page)

When we discuss this now, Jemma argues that I had ample
opportunity to stop Kelly leaving Coronation Park that day. All I would
have needed to say was,

“
Kelly, I
’
ve got cancer!
”
and Kelly would probably have stayed with
me then until my dying day. On reflection, I
’
m glad I didn
’
t say it. I
’
m
glad Kelly left when she did. I am a firm believer in the butterfly effect,
that every decision we make has a knock o
n effect on the next and so on
and so forth, so if I had said or done anything different at any point, my
children would not have been born. So, by letting Kelly go, it ultimately
led to the creation of my children! I definitely did the right thing! The
reason I kept quiet though, was not because of any sub-conscious passion
for Jemma, nor was it exactly because I did not want to tell Kelly I had cancer (although it is linked to that). The reason I kept avoiding telling
Kelly I had cancer was down to a fear that had sprung into my mind the
second I originally felt the lump and had been exacerbated by my visit to
the urologists that day. I had not heard a lot of what the urologist said
after the cancer was confirmed, but three words he mentioned, three
words I did not understand at first, were the words that scared me the
most. The words were
“
radical inguinal orchidectomy
”
. In layman
’
s
terms, this is the medical procedure to remove a testicle. I could not
face telling Kelly I had testicular cancer, because I could not face her
knowing that I may have to go through life with one ball.

Even before my diagnosis and before I had read any books on
cancer, I had an idea that a lump on my testicle might ultimately lead
to the removal of said testicle. In my naivety, before reading the medical
books, I presumed this could lead to a life without erections, a life
without sperm and a life without children, so pre-diagnosis I always
dismissed the idea of sharing this secret with Kelly. Once I had read the
books, it became more of a cosmetic thing. I remember the childhood songs, sung to the tu
ne of the Colonel Bogey March,

             
“
Hitler, has only got one ball,

The other is in the Albert Hall,

His mother, the dirty bugger,

Chopped it off when he was small.
”

This conjured up the image of ugliness and a real stigma attached to
having a testicle missing. So, I was scared a one-balled boyfriend may
have been as unattractive to Kelly as a one breasted woman would have
been to me. I was doing Kelly a disservice by thinking she would have
been as shallow as me and to be fair to me, if Kelly had been diagnosed
with breast cancer and had needed a mastectomy, I would not have
stopped loving her for a second.

Once Kelly ran away from the park that Thursday afternoon, I ran
after her but I wrongly deduced at some point she would head back into
Woolworths, so sat on a bench on Aughton Street, for an hour, before
venturing into the branch in case I had missed her. Kathy on the CD
counter was hurrying around trying to alleviate a mounting queue so I
did not even have to ask if she was there.

Only then did I head to her house on Wigan Road. I certainly have
no recollection of a police van being there and I am sure if there was,
I would have clocked it. Jemma had opened the door, anguish all over
her face and she told me Kelly had packed some clothes and disappeared
even before Jemma had arrived home. I walked back to Aughton and
rang Jemma several times that day and again the next day, just in case
Kelly had come home. Caroline, my sister, had a new boyfriend that she
was very keen to have long, romantic telephone conversations with, so
I had to bring her up to date with a basic overview about Kelly running
off, packing a bag and disappearing, otherwise, if Kelly had tried to
phone me, she would have had to contend with a constant engaged
tone. I knew there was a sacrifice involved here, by telling Caroline,
in all likelihood, the news would spread throughout the Billingham
household, but the constant sympathy from Mum that followed was
worth it, as I did manage to speak to Kelly the following night.

When I spoke to Kelly, I assured her everything would be alright.
Who was I trying to kid? Her or me! I probably said it with as much
conviction as Clarice Starling did in Silence Of The Lambs when she
arrived at the house of the serial killer alone and found Catherine
Martin stuck at the bottom of an almighty pit!

Kelly

I had decided I was on my way home. I had spoken to Richie, pretty
much every day whilst I was in Holland and my fears with regards to
Mr & Mrs McGordon appeared to be unfounded. On the evening of
the 2
nd
July, after speaking to Richie, I decided I was being completely
ridiculous hiding in Europe. I was missing him and wanted to get back
to Ormskirk for some serious making up! I decided I was going to
surprise him. I knew he was a real romantic and without a doubt, on
the 4
th
July, he would be there, on the
“
Sunny Road
”
, hoping I would
arrive to run into his arms with mine outstretched. Without telling him,
I decided that was exactly what I would do. I would head back on the
3
rd
, go back home, not tell Richie, then I would turn up the following
day on the
“
Sunny Road
”
. He would be elated.

In my absence from home, Jemma only knew that I was safe through
Richie. I had once again forgiven Richie and was still eager to discover
what he had been so upset about, but I was finding it harder to forgive
Jemma. I
’
m not sure why, maybe it was because she looked so guilty
when I turned up at Coronation Park. Whilst I was in Holland, I
had not phoned her at all. Once I had bought my foot passenger ferry
ticket that Tuesday morning, to go from Hook of Holland to Harwich,
I had an hour to kill before I needed to get on the ferry, so I thought
I would phone Jemma. Richie had told me that she had finished with Ray and left the job at the bank, so I presumed that she would be at
home. I wanted to clear the air before arriving back. I could feel my heart pounding as the phone rang but luckily, I did not have to wait
long before it was answered.

“
0695-402907
”
.

Damn! Guilders wasted. I had rung the wrong number. It wasn
’
t
Jemma, it sounded like an elderly woman. Then I realised the number
the woman said was our number.

“
Who is this?
”
I asked.

“
What do you mean, who is this? You rang me! If you are a newspaper
reporter, you might as well hang up, because I
’
m telling you nothing.
”

             
Now I knew who it was, it was Nan!

“
Nan, it
’
s Kelly!
”

“
Kelly, where are you?
”

“
I
’
m at the ferry terminal at Hook of Holland. I
’
m coming back in
an hour. Why would newspaper reporters want to speak to you?
”

             
“
Kelly, listen to me. Do not get on
that ferry. Do you hear me, do
not get on that ferry!
”

Nan was scaring me. My heart was pounding like crazy now.

“
Why Nan, what
’
s the matter?
”

Nan started whispering down the phone.

“
Look, I can
’
t speak for long. There
’
s a policewoman in the hall
who
’
s just let me in and if she hears me I
’
m in all sorts of trouble, but
do not come home. Don
’
t even come to England.
”

“
Tell me why Nan, you
’
re scaring me now!
”

“
They
’
ve arrested Jemma, love. If you step foot in this country, I
guarantee they
’
ll arrest you too. She
’
s been charged with your Mum
’
s
murder. Keep away, Kelly! Please just keep away!
”

The phone went dead.

I was shaking. I needed to make a quick decision. I had forty five
minutes to decide whether I should do the honourable thing, get on the
ferry, go back to England and turn myself in or follow Nan
’
s advice and
disappear. Impulse told me to ring Richie, see if he could shed some
light on things, but then fear took hold. What if Richie pleaded with
me to come home? I could spend the next twenty years in jail. Richie
would never wait for me then. By the time I was out, I would be a middle
aged woman. Either way I was screwed. God was definitely out to get
me. The doors to heaven had been firmly shut.

I started to think things through. Jemma was tougher than me.
She would cope with it better. I wouldn
’
t cope, jail would kill me. It
took me all of two minutes to rip that ferry ticket up and run. Back
to Rotterdam, then later to Amsterdam and back to Schiphol airport.
Don
’
t ask me why, because I don
’
t really know why, but that night I flew
on a Singapore Airlines flight to Singapore! A week earlier, I had left
Ormskirk thinking I could never forgive Jemma and Richie for what
they had done. The tables were well and truly turned now.

One thing was certain. My childhood was over. Life would never
be the same again.

Richie

When Kelly decided to take a year out from her education after Fifth
form, I jumped on the
“
year out
”
bandwagon too, deciding to work for a
year too, once my
“
A
”
levels were completed. As I was two school years
above Kelly, our years out had coincided. Amazingly enough! It made sense though. My Mum and Dad were permanently skint, mainly due to
Dad
’
s gambling habit, so although I had managed to knuckle down to
some serious last minute cramming and secured a place at Manchester
Polytechnic, I thought a year at work would help finance three years at
Poly so I deferred my entry. Mum and Dad did not try to persuade me
to do otherwise, as they knew I was taking some of the burden off them.
They had just funded Helen through her years at Lancaster University
and they were probably cursing me for doing unexpectedly well in my
“
A
”
levels! They probably wished I had failed them all like Caroline
had managed to do! Jim, who was probably a little smarter than Helen,
would be heading to University too the year after, so I was reducing the
double whammy by paying my way, to some degree anyway.

Kelly had worked on the CD counter at Woolworth
’
s in Ormskirk,
since she was fourteen, as a Saturday girl and I had always thought that
job would be better suited to me, as my interest in music and knowledge
of it, was far more extensive than Kelly
’
s. Problem was, there were no
jobs going at Woolies, nor at the other record shop in Ormskirk, Quirks,
even the bloke who had a small store in the
‘
Indoor Market
’
said he was
unable to take me on, so I ended up applying to every other record shop
I could think of in the North West of England! The pay was unlikely
to be great and even less so if I had to tra
vel to get there, but if I was
going to have a year out working, I was going to find a job I enjoyed.