Terms of Affection

by M K Turner

  “Headaches? Headaches? Dad, for God’s sake, even you must know she’s drunk most of the time.” Blinking back her tears, Lorna reached for Henry’s hand. “Henry has been embarrassed enough without witnessing another family row. Come on, Henry.”

  Having no idea what to say or do, Henry allowed Lorna to lead him away. He heard his teacher’s words though.

  “Again? What are you doing here? I’m supposed to be working, now I’ll have to take you home. Get your bloody coat.”

  Not heading to the hall, Lorna pulled Henry to the stairs leading to the toilets. “This way.”

  “Where are we going?” Henry jerked his thumb back the way they had come. “About that, I—”

  Halting abruptly at the top of the stairs, Lorna looked him in the eye. “Do you love me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then shut up and come with me. I’m not wasting one more second of tonight on her.”

  Once down the stairs, she hurried them past the doors for the toilets, past a stationery cupboard, and stopped at a fire door.

  “You want to go outside?”

  “Don’t be silly, this is the fire exit for the gym, or I suppose the toilets, depending on where the fire is.” Casting a final glance along the corridor to make sure no one was there, Lorna pushed on the bar and pulled Henry behind her. “Quick.”

  The door snapped shut behind them. Blinking to adjust his eyes in the sudden darkness, Henry got his bearings. On the other side of the room, he could see the soft glow of the exit sign above the door leading to the gym’s formal entrance, and squinting he could see the doors of the two sets of changing rooms.

  Pulling him against her, Lorna sounded nervous. “Now we’re alone. No one will find us here.”

  “Lorna, I . . . that is . . . here?”

  “I’ve fantasised about this for so long, anywhere will do.” Turning her head, she too squinted into the barren space.

  “You’ve fantasised about me?” Henry became painfully aware of his arousal.

  “Yes. You. Before, it was usually a pop star, or an actor, but now I have you.” Stepping back into his embrace she kissed him passionately, guiding his hand to her breasts, and as he groaned, pushing his hand lower.

  Realising Lorna was not only deadly serious, but ready for him, Henry pulled away. “Are you sure you want this, because you’re driving me wild here.”

  Laughing, she grabbed his hand. “Yes, and I’ve just thought of somewhere more comfortable. Come on, the mats are in the storeroom.

  Half running to the large storeroom in the corner of the gym, Henry helped her negotiate her way through the various pieces of equipment. Stacked at the back were the thick foam mats used to soften falls. The pile was about four feet high.

  “Do you want me to lift you up?”

  “No, I want you to undress. I don’t want any fumbling. I want it to be perfect. Come on, it’s not even cold in here, the boiler is on the other side of that wall.”

  Shoes already off, she pulled up the hem of her dress, before quickly taking off her tights and knickers. She dropped them on her shoes. “I would prefer this was a huge bed, but it’s not, but it is my first time and when I think back to it, it has to be as perfect as possible.”

  Lorna reached up for the buttons at the top of her dress before stepping out of it.

  Still hesitant, Henry asked again, “You are sure?”

  Her deft fingers released and removed her bra. Lorna stood before him naked. “Do you not want me?” There was uncertainty in her voice.

  “Of course.” In contrast, Henry’s tone was husky and sure.

  “Then get naked.”

  With a laugh, Lorna was on top of the stack of mats. Kneeling, she watched him remove his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers. Using a bench as a step, he joined her on the mats and stood looking at her, his condom clenched tightly in his hand.

  “It will kill me, but it’s not too late to change your mind.”

  Unable to speak, Lorna stared at him, at it. As he knelt next to her, she giggled. “Does that not get in your way? I’ve never thought about it until now.”

  “Sometimes.” His fingers traced a line from her neck to her naval. “You are sure? Because I’m going to kiss you, and then I’ll be lost.”

  “I’m sure I want to, I’m not sure you’ll fit though. Bloody hell, Henry, come and kiss me or we’ll never find out.”

  Although Henry did his best to be considerate, passion got the best of him, and their first attempt at lovemaking was over minutes later.

  Raising himself onto one elbow, Henry kissed her. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it, I tried to slow down.”

  “Don’t apologise, it was good, a bit painful, and I didn’t see any stars, but I am no longer a virgin, and on top of all your other attributes, you have a magnificent body. How much do you know about sex?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, how much do you know? I’ve been reading this book, and there were things in there that . . . well . . . Oh God.”

  “Are you getting embarrassed?”

  “Of course I bloody am.”

  “Don’t be.” Henry pulled her in close. “Is there something you want me to do?”

  “It’s no good now, I’m blushing, I’ll never be able to tell you.” Lorna buried her face into his chest.

  “Don’t tell me then, show me, direct me, you don’t need words.” Lifting her face to his, he kissed her and Lorna nodded into his kiss. “Okay.”

  Discovering each other, and themselves, they remained in the storeroom for another hour. Finally surrendering to the knowledge that they should get back, they dressed in silence. When they held hands, as they crossed the gym to the door, there was a familiarity and a naturalness about their contact.

  Reaching the door, Lorna put her hand on the bar. “I’ll open it just enough to let some light in, so you make sure I look okay before I check the coast is clear.”

  “You always look okay.”

  “Thank you, but seriously, check my hair isn’t sticking up, or I haven’t got my dress on back to front or something. Ready?”

  To Henry, Lorna’s appearance was if anything better than before. Her skin glowed and her eyes twinkled. “You look perfect.”

  “Really?”

  “God, Lorna, really, really, really. The loos are up there, you can go and check.”

  “Good plan, Batman.”

  “I thought you didn’t know anything about him?”

  “I lied. I was being girlie. Give me a minute before you come out.”

  Checking there was no one around before she made her escape, Lorna let the door shut behind her as she scooted up the corridor to the toilets.

  Henry waited, his mind full of everything Lorna. The last two terms had been the best he could remember, and this night was a night he’d never forget. Running his fingers through his hair, he straightened his tie, and smoothed his lapels.

  “Shit. The condom.” Unused, the condom lay abandoned on the stack of mats. The realisation that his father had been right to warn of caution caused his cheeks to flush. What if she was pregnant? Considering this for a moment, he decided he didn’t care, that would mean she was his for ever, although he now thought that was a given anyway, and he wasn’t even sure you could get pregnant the first time. His smile was broad as poked his head around the door.

  Ten minutes later, Lorna joined him in the hall. Placing his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her close. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

  “I know, Batman, I love you too.”

  “Batman?”

  “A term of affection. From hence forth that will be my love name for you.”

  Laughing, Henry wagged his finger. “I don’t think so. Bloody Batman. That would make you Robin.”

  “Holy crap, Batman, so it would.” Giggling, she squirmed out of his embrace and grabbing his hand pulled him on to the dance floor. “Is this one slow enough for you?”

  Groaning, Henry follo
wed her into the throng of dancers. The national anthem would have suited him if it meant holding her again. But he didn’t say. Instead, he lowered his head as she placed her arms around his neck and pulled her close, before plodding slowly from side to side to what he thought would be their song. He even hummed a little as Gallagher and Lyle sang the words that matched his thoughts. “I Wanna Stay With You” was perfect.

  At the end of an evening neither of them wanted to end, Henry waited while Lorna collected her coat. He doubted he’d even get a kiss goodnight, her father was pacing the foyer, checking his watch every couple of seconds.

  “I think your dad’s in a rush.” He helped Lorna with her coat.

  “Probably because she’s been drinking all night. Nightmare ahead. Wish me luck, Batman. She always has a go at me when she’s drunk.”

  “What does your dad do?”

  “Sits on the fence, being nice while I’m there, then they row when they’re alone. They think I’m deaf.”

  “I’ve never heard my parents row.”

  “Holy macaroni, Batman. What a charmed life you lead.”

  “Pack it in.” Laughing, Henry took her hand, and they headed in the direction of her father.

  Forcing a smile, Chris Rogers shook Henry’s hand. “Can’t offer you a lift, I’m afraid, I’m in a bit of a rush.”

  “No problem, sir, my dad is picking me up.”

  “Splendid. I’m right outside, come on, Lorna, I’ll be blocking people in.”

  Rolling her eyes, Lorna gave Henry a quick peck on the cheek. “See you tomorrow, Batman, straight back to the cave, no loitering. I’ll call in the morning.” And laughing at his embarrassed expression, she was gone.

  “Batman? What’s all that about?” Simmons had appeared from nowhere.

  “A term of affection apparently.”

  “But Batman?”

  “I know, it’s just a name.”

  “Blimey, you must be in love.” Simmons punched his arm. “You didn’t even get a proper grope either, just a peck on the cheek.”

  Henry looked at his friend and shook his head. “Child.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, and with a big smile on his face, he headed for the door. “Do you want a lift? He’ll drop you at the top of yours.”

  “Go on then. Didn’t fancy catching the bus.”

  With Simmons safely trapped in the back seat, Henry dropped his seat back into place and slammed the door.

  “I’ve already got one on this side, thank you.” His father delivered the worn line with vigour. “Did you have a good night? How are you, Simmons?”

  “Great, thanks, Gerry. It was okay.”

  “Only okay. I used to live for the Friday night dance when I was your age. All those girls.”

  “I have to be honest, I did pull. Batman here got a peck on the cheek, and he did seven slow dances. I was counting. He was almost in time come the end.” Simmons patted Henry’s shoulder.

  Ignoring their laughter at his expense, Henry closed his eyes. His mind took him back to the storeroom at the gym, but it didn’t stay long.

  “Why Batman then? What’s the connection?” Gerry elbowed his son.

  “No idea, she just said it.”

  “Oh well, that’s serious.”

  “What is?”

  “Being given a nickname, that means they have plans. Usually involves a ring.”

  “She said it was a term of affection. There is no ring, I’ve only been seeing her a couple of months.”

  “A couple of terms of affection, then. Get it, term as in school?” Gerry suggested and Simmons laughed heartily.

  Again, Henry ignored their laughter, he smiled though. Lorna could have a ring if she wanted one.

  Chapter Four

  Angie’s mood was light following the revelations of the night before. Although it would inevitably end badly, Henry had been truly happy. Singing softly, she bathed and dressed her daughter. Carrying her downstairs, she sat her on her play rug, and added a selection of toys to keep her amused.

  “I love your smile.” Blowing a kiss to Lily, Angie picked up her notepad. “Mummy has to write a shopping list, and then you’re going on an adventure with Daddy.”

  “I wouldn’t call a trip to the supermarket an adventure.” Getting onto all fours, Ryan crawled menacingly towards Lily who squealed with delight.

  “It is for Lily.” She flipped the pages to the list she’d begun earlier. “Oh dear, I’ve just checked the fridge, it’s going to be a big shop. Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

  “Nope. I’m off middle of next week, use me and abuse me while you can. You also have to type up those notes. I understand that you don’t want to talk about it, but at least then I can read it. Ouch.”

  Lily had grabbed a handful of hair and was trying to pull herself to her feet. Untangling her fingers, he helped her.

  “I think she’s going to walk before she can crawl.”

  “You might be right. She pulled herself up on . . . Mum or Gran?” Looking at her vibrating phone on the arm of the sofa, she blew out a breath. “Tell them I’m changing Lily, otherwise it will be an inquisition as to what if anything I’ve witnessed.”

  “Will do.” Stretching out a free arm to grab the phone, Ryan grimaced at Lily. “Witchypoo M, or Witchypoo B?” Checking the screen, he raised his eyebrows. “M it is. Hi, Margaret. How are you?”

  Not convinced he would be able to fend her mother off, Angie jotted extra items down on the list.

  “Changing Lily, then we’re off shopping.” Winking, he gave Angie the thumbs up at his quick thinking. “I’ll get her to give you a call later. It isn’t urgent, I take it?” After listening for several minutes, he answered, “Oh, is that odd? No, don’t tell me, I won’t understand. I’ll call when we’re on our way home. Bye.”

  “What? That sounded like she was coming over.”

  “You know your mother, any excuse to get her hands on Lily, but she’s concerned about her file.”

  “Concerned? How?”

  “I don’t know, Ange, this stuff goes way above my head. She said something like, she definitely thinks she made contact, but thinks she was rebuffed. Never happened before, always the other way around.”

  “I have no idea what that means either. This is all sort of new to me too, don’t forget.” Adding the last item with a flourish, she tore the page from the pad. “There you go. I’ll get the bags for you.”

  Ryan got to his feet and lifted Lily into his arms. “Sounds like Mummy is in a hurry to get rid of us.”

  “I am. Mum will be here, and I’ll have done nothing.”

  Ten minutes later and Angie was sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open and coffee mug full. Closing her eyes, she brought back the telephone conversation in the Cooksey’s cold hall. Satisfied, she opened a new document and her fingers flew across the keyboard. As always the emotions of the moment became her own, and she wept as she typed Henry’s last minutes, frowning as she concentrated on the detail of where he lay. Any little clue might prove crucial to finding him. Eventually spent, she threw away the cold coffee and made a fresh one.

  “Come on, Angie Bearing, the next bit is good.” Splashing water on her face, she dried it on a clean tea towel and returned to the laptop. The youngster’s liaison at the dance did little to lift her spirits. Now, in the cold light of day, it simply emphasised the waste. The loss of the promise of what might have been.

  Saving the document, she hit print, and waited until the chugging from the living room stopped before snapping the laptop shut.

  “No more today. There are beds to change.” Knowing more would come whether she wanted it or not, keeping busy always helped her work off the emotion, but she’d not even reached the stairs when the door opened. “Mother?”

  “Hello, darling, how are you?” Margaret blew her daughter a kiss as she shrugged off her coat and added it to the pile on the newel post. “I thought you were shopping, I came over to help unload, and of course have a cuddle with Lily.
”

  “And . . .”

  “And what?”

  “Mum, put the kettle on while I strip the bed, and have a concise explanation ready for when I get back. Don’t look shocked, you hate unpacking shopping and you’ve got that look.”

  “What look?” Folding her arms across her chest, Margaret didn’t move.

  “The look that says you won’t like this, but I’m going to say it anyway.”

  “I have no idea what you mean. Why are you here anyway? Ryan said you were shopping.”

  “Changed my mind, decided to catch up on some housework.”

  It was Margaret’s turn to prompt. “And . . .”

  “And I didn’t fancy it, thought they could have some daddy, daughter, bonding time.”

  “Good, we’re alone. I’ve had such a funny turn, I had to speak to you.”

  Immediately swamped with guilt, Angie ushered her mother into the kitchen. “You’re poorly? Why didn’t you tell Ryan that? I’d have come to you.” Forcing her mother to sit, Angie put the kettle on. “Have you phoned the doctor?”

  “Why would I phone the doctor? Angie, you’re making no sense.”

  “Nor are you. You said you had a turn. What was it? Dizziness, palpitations, blurred vision, all of the above?”

  Hand over mouth, Margaret looked sheepish. “Oh, I see. Not that sort of turn.”

  Pulling out a chair, Angie plonked herself next to her mother. “Go on. I think I’m getting there.”

  “You know that when Inspector Tipper put that box on the table,” she pointed at the said box, “I was drawn to the file on Michelle Jenks. Had no idea who she was, or the circumstances of her disappearance, but she was speaking to me.”

  “And . . . Mum hurry up and get to the point, Ryan and Lily will be back soon and then we’ll never get there.”

  Tutting, Margaret rolled her eyes. “You used to be such a patient child. But to the point: I read the file and I knew she was there. You know that feeling that there’s someone watching from the shadows. I closed my eyes and waited.”

  “No, not really. That’s not how it is for me.”

  “Well it is for me. I waited for over two hours.” Throwing out her hands, Margaret looked shocked. “Nothing. Absolutely zilch. I tried again. Reading the detective’s report over and over. She was with me, somewhere here.” Reaching her hand above her left shoulder, Margaret pointed behind her. “Here’s the thing, rather than get a sense of her, or a flash of what happened, or a location, all I got was an angry rebuke.”