Terms of Affection

by M K Turner

  “Don’t worry, he’s gone to the bar. I said you’d have a lemonade. God, you think they’d let us have a drink tonight of all nights.” Lorna picked up her orange juice. “One of that lot put a vodka in here for . . . Oh, looks like your dad has got you a pint.”

  Placing the pint glass in Henry’s hand, Gerry Cooksey smiled at his son. “Just the one, but cheers my boy, I couldn’t be prouder.” Chinking his glass against Henry’s he looked startled as the chanting started.

  “Down in one, down in one, down in one.”

  Accompanied by a slow handclap as a ring of players encircled them, Henry placed the glass to his lips.

  “Now, Henry, you don’t have to . . . Oh.” Gerry watched Henry empty the glass in a matter of seconds, and get rewarded by a loud cheer. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d done that before.” Slapping his son’s back he leaned closer. “Don’t make a habit of it, that’s a good drop of bitter and should be savoured.”

  Belching into his hand, Henry gave his assurances. “Thanks, Dad, where’s Mum?”

  “Left her chatting to Mrs Rogers at the bar. She’s so proud of you, doubt she’ll stop smiling for a week. Let’s have a look at this then.” Lifting the trophy, he read the inscription. “Engraved already, that’s one for the shelf. Here she comes.”

  Annette Cooksey placed her drink on the table and pulled her son into a hug. “So proud.” Her chin quivered.

  “Are you crying? Mum, get a grip, but thanks.” Pulling himself free, he took the trophy back from his father. “I never guessed, no one let on. I’m made up.”

  “So you should be, mind you, you deserve it. You train hard, never miss a match, and you give the older blokes a run for their money. Carry on like this and you’ll be captain next year.”

  It was his mother’s turn to inspect the trophy. “I’ll keep this one extra shiny.”

  “Look after it. I need the toilet.”

  Chris Rogers hoisted the tray above his head as Henry turned towards him. “That was close. Congratulations. Well deserved. There’s a drink here for you, sorry it’s nothing stronger.”

  Thanking him, Henry headed for the lobby of the social club, tutting as he heard his father tell Mr Rogers one was enough. The entrance to the gents was behind the staircase and he increased his pace as he saw Lorna’s mother walking back towards the function room. Lorna had told him her parents had had a blazing row before they’d left home, and he wasn’t about to get drawn into it. When he left the toilets, and shielded by the staircase, he could hear them at it again. Watching through the banister, he saw Chris Rogers lose his temper for the first time.

  “Home now. You’re drunk. Again.” He shook his head in disappointment.

  “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack. Mind you, it’s nice to see there’s passion in there somewhere. Come on, buy me a drink.”

  Wobbling on her heels, Chelly Rogers turned towards the bar. With two quick strides, Chris had reached her and grabbed her arm. He spun her around to face him.

  “And let you make a show of me again? You have to be kidding. Now come on.”

  Chelly yelped as he yanked her towards the doors, his fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arm.

  “Let go of me!”

  Not caring who heard, Chelly was shouting, and even though he was hidden from view, Henry blushed, his eyes scanning the entrances to the foyer, hoping no one was about to witness this. Poor Mr Rogers.

  “Keep your voice down.” Still dragging her forward, one of her shoes abandoned halfway to the door, Chris Rogers hissed the words at her. “This has to stop, you have to see someone.”

  “Someone?” Chelly managed to yank her arm free, and kicked off her remaining shoe. “Someone who? A doctor, a psychiatrist, a MAN?” Her laugh held no mirth, and free of her heels, she turned neatly, and headed for the bar. “I’ll go and find one, shall I?”

  “That’s it. ENOUGH!”

  Usually a quietly spoken man, and startled by the volume of his response, Chris dashed forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, before locking her in a bear hug. Henry couldn’t see his face now, it was so close to Chelly’s, but he heard him clearly enough.

  “Why would I want to sleep with a lush? You’re a disgrace, it’s all I can do to look at you sometimes. Come with me now, stay out of my affairs and I’ll give you enough money to leave. If you behave, I’ll even give you an allowance.”

  There was total silence for a few seconds, and Henry was amazed at the change in Chelly. Tipping her head back she looked into Chris’s eyes.

  “Do you mean it?” She raised a tentative hand and placed her palm against his cheek. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

  “I mean it. I’m done trying.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Let’s go home, I’ll pack a bag and be gone by morning. I’ll need cash though. Do you have money at home?”

  “You can’t wait, can you?”

  Her hand dropped away. “No. Don’t be surprised, this can’t be a shock.”

  Releasing her, Chris held his hand forward. “No, I don’t suppose it is. Let’s go before anyone comes. Chelly, you don’t need to go tomorrow. You need to sort out where you’re going to go.”

  Stooping to pick up a shoe, she smiled. “Thanks. You go and get Lorna, I’ll get the coats.”

  “I’m not ruining Lorna’s evening too, she’s having fun. I’ll come back for her.” Collecting her other shoe, he held it out. “Put these on, I’ll get the coats, I know where I put them.”

  “You can’t be serious. That’s a rugby team in there. It will get raucous.”

  “Meaning what? Lorna is with Henry, he’s a good lad, and his parents are there.”

  “Yes, well they’re all good lads to start off with. I think she should come with us.”

  “And I don’t. Put your shoes on.” Chris Rogers walked to the row of rails holding visitors’ coats.

  “I can’t believe you’re happy for a teenage girl to be out drinking with a bunch of rugby players. Shit.” Hopping to try and put her second shoe on, her nail caught her stockings and a ladder ran up into the hem of her dress. “She’ll get a reputation.”

  Shoving her coat into her hands, Chris looked her in the eye. “Not as a drunk at least. Now move.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that.” Struggling into her coat, she lost her balance and had to grab his arm to stop her falling. “Bloody shoes.” Kicking them off again, she picked them up and started for the door. “Come on then, I thought you were in a hurry to lock me away while Lorna whores it up with the boys.”

  Henry jumped at the sound of the slap. Grabbing Chelly by the arm, Chris had spun her round with one hand and slapped her soundly with the other.

  Too stunned to speak for several minutes, Chelly stood with her hand on her cheek. “That’s the first and the last time you will ever do that,” she hissed at him.

  “I know. It’s also the last time I will drive you anywhere, unless it’s to the station. Pack your bags tonight. I want you out of the house tomorrow.”

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said, one more word and the allowance is off the table.”

  “Dad, have you . . . are you going?”

  Henry’s head swivelled to look at Lorna. Her eyes wary, she walked towards them.

  “I don’t feel well. Your father is taking me home. Go back to your . . .” Having second thoughts on what she had been going to say, Chelly smiled. “Go back to the man-child and have fun.”

  “The what?” Lorna held her hands out.

  “She means Henry. Go back to Henry and enjoy yourself, I’ll be coming back to take you home.”

  “I was looking for . . . Oh there you are.”

  Deciding he should show his face, Henry forced a smile. “Are you going home?”

  “Not me.” Lorna looped her arm in his. “Dad will be back in a while.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll see you later, sir.”

  “Wai
t here for me. I need the loo now. See you later, Dad. Hope you feel better in the morning.” She called the latter as she headed for the toilets.

  “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll look after her.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, Henry wished they would hurry up and leave. He was unsure whether to tell Lorna what he’d overheard, and needed a moment to think.

  “I know, son.” Taking Chelly by the elbow, Chris steered her away.

  She turned and looked at Henry. “Be very careful young man. Do not do anything you’ll regret. Ouch!”

  Chris tightened her grip on her elbow. “Enough said. Let’s get you out of here.” Without another word, he marched her out into the crisp night air.

  Walking to the stairs, Henry took a seat and ran his fingers through his hair. He was paying her to leave. What would Lorna say? He knew she was fed up with the arguing and ill feeling, but that was drastic. No one in Henry’s family had ever split up or divorced, but then Chelly Rogers was not like anyone in Henry’s family. She wasn’t like anyone else he knew.

  He decided to keep his mouth shut and as Lorna returned he held out his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Two minutes. I have something for you.” Running over to the coat rail, Lorna located her coat and pulled out a package which had been rammed into the pocket. She held it out. “A present for you. I knitted it myself when you ruined your other one. I knew you’d win something tonight, so I decided to give it to you now, and not wait until your birthday. I’ll get you something else for that.”

  Unwrapping the scarf, Henry wrapped it around his neck. It smelt of Lorna. “Thank you, it’s perfect.”

  “Look.” Lorna lifted the end of the scarf and turned it over. She had embroidered their initials in a crooked heart. Her eyes twinkled as she looked for his approval.

  “As I said, perfect. I’ll have a little bit of you with me every time I wear it.” He wanted to kiss her, but given the earlier happenings, he lifted the heart and kissed it. “I love it, and I love you.”

  “In which case, you will have to dance with me. Your mum said never in a million years when I asked if she thought you would.” Laughing, she dragged him towards the music.

  “A slow one. Only a slow one.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Was her mother right? Is that what this is about, does he have his wicked way with her?” Bridget leaned forward between the front seats. “You’ll have to tell me more. Henry is the boy with the scarf I take it?”

  Bridget Bearing’s bus had arrived earlier than scheduled, and Bridget had appeared as Margaret had hit the replay button to listen to herself putting her thoughts into some form of order. Margaret had tried to stop it, but once Bridget realised what it was, she insisted on a rewind so she could listen to it, even though she had no idea who it was about.

  Knowing Bridget would have a hundred questions, Margaret kept her response short.

  “It was. How was the trip?”

  “Fine. It was a bunch of old ladies watching very fit people dancing on ice. However, it wasn’t half as interesting as whatever that’s about.” Pointing at the phone, Bridget blew a kiss to her granddaughter. “Hello, my darling, what a wonderful surprise. How’s Lily?”

  “Talking gobbledegook nonstop and trying to walk. A joy, if an exhausting one.”

  “Good. Now that’s out of the way, tell me more.”

  “I’m fine thank you, Mother, as is Angie. It was no trouble at all coming to pick you up.” Looking at her mother from the corner of her eyes, she jerked her thumb. “Sit back and put your seatbelt on. It’s the law.”

  “Well, I can tell someone hasn’t had a good day.” Clipping the seatbelt into the clasp, Bridget tapped Angie’s seat. “I know you won’t be crochety. Tell me more.”

  “Gran, so much has happened so quickly I need to get it typed up. But, and don’t quote me on this later, I’ll give you a brief résumé, on the promise you won’t ask a million questions. It won’t take long to get home, and then I need to give Lily some attention. Actually, why don’t we do this tomorrow. Lily is going to the new nursery that’s opened up. It’s only a couple of mornings a week, but it’ll get her used to it. Come around tomorrow morning.”

  “Ha!” grunted Margaret. “Asking Mother not to ask questions, is like asking a child not to lick a lolly.”

  “I have a prior engagement in the morning, but I will ask only two questions. You have my word on it. Fire away, Angie.”

  “How do you know it will only be two?” Smiling at her grandmother in the rearview mirror, Angie had a silent wager with herself that two would become ten very quickly.

  “Because I shall choose them carefully, once I’ve heard what you have to say. I promise.”

  “Okay. Henry Cooksey disappeared without a trace. Actually, that’s not true. His scarf, the one Lorna knitted him, was found at the bus stop where he was supposed to catch the bus. I now know that someone turned up before Lorna and he got into a car with them. Don’t know if it was male or female. No idea what happened next but I believe he ended up paralysed at the bottom of a hill, or cliff, don’t know which, and whoever was with him buried him alive. Oh, it was snowing. Not sure how relevant that is though. I think whoever buried him was female, at least Henry thought so.”

  Waiting a moment in case Angie was merely pausing, Bridget sounded disappointed. “That’s it?”

  “Question number one.” Margaret held a finger up.

  “No, that was not about the case. That was a ‘have you finished speaking so I can consider my questions?’ Don’t be smart, Margaret, it doesn’t suit.”

  “Conceded. What is question one?”

  “That was indeed a concise summary, and I know there must be more by what we just listened to.” Pursing her lips in thought, she considered this. “Based on half a story, and assuming his killer was female, is there a possibility it was Lorna?”

  “No. I don’t think so. When it was obvious he was going to die, he shut out the rest of the world and thought about when Lorna had first told him she loved him. He did have sex with her, and she fell pregnant, not that he ever knew that, but he wasn’t taking advantage, or having his wicked way, he was genuinely head over heels in love with her. She had a son, Robin, who we met this afternoon, and then a grandson, young Henry, who is the image of his grandfather. And a nice lad.”

  “Then it was the mother.” Delivered with a certainty she couldn’t possibly possess, Bridget folded her arms. “Yes. The mother did it.”

  “I’m assuming you mean Chelly Rogers and not Annette Cooksey, do you?”

  “Margaret, don’t be obtuse. Yes, I mean Chelly.” Clasping her hands, Bridget relaxed back against the seat. “I’ll have to have a read of this file, see if I can help. I’ll take it with me tonight, I doubt I’ll have time tomorrow.”

  “If we accept your assertion that Chelly did it, why? And, what’s the second question?”

  “I don’t have one, other than the big why. That’s why I want to read the file.”

  As they were nearly home, Angie remained quiet. Could it have been Chelly? Possibly. But why? From the snippets of Chelly’s relationship with Lorna, it appeared there was some friction there, but other than the fact that Henry was a rugby player, and she clearly had a low opinion of their morality, why? Jealousy? Parking the car outside the house, she turned to her grandmother.

  “I don’t want to be rude but, it’s nearly Lily’s bedtime, would you mind awfully not coming in? If you do, she’ll get all excited, she always does when she has both her nanas there. I’ll pop in and get you the file.”

  “No problem at all. I’ll come around tomorrow afternoon, two birds with one stone.”

  Puzzled, Margaret shut the car door and looked at her mother over the roof. “Two birds?”

  “Yes, darling. I get to see my beautiful Lily, and read what’s happened so far. Because I know I’ve only had the barest information from you.” She waved her finger back and forth. “And then, I should warn you, I will be asking more than
two questions.” Closing her own door with a flourish, she grinned. “But for now, the police file will do.”

  Creeping into the cottage, Angie collected the file from the box and took it out to her grandmother who was now settled in Margaret’s car. Giving her mother a hug, Angie leaned into the car and kissed her grandmother.

  “Don’t give her a hard time. It’s been a tough day for her. I think her curse is getting stronger. Love you, Gran, see you tomorrow.”

  “Her gift is getting better?” Bridget clapped her hands. “Perhaps that’s because she’s using it. I hope the same happens to me.”

  “The same what?” Margaret climbed into the car.

  “Improvement, in our gift. Why haven’t you called me to tell me about this? You can fill me in on the way home.”

  “What if I said I had no idea what you were talking about?” Margaret was talking to Bridget but looking at Angie.

  “Sorry, Mum, if looks could kill . . . I’ll leave you to it. Bye both.”

  Closing the door on her grandmother, Angie went back into the house. Hearing Lily call her from upstairs, she went to investigate. Finding her husband and daughter in the bathroom, she lifted Lily into her arms.

  “Bubub.” Lily grinned as she pointed at the bath.

  “That is a lot of bubbles. Mummy thinks Daddy has been silly.”

  “Not intentionally, it doesn’t take much does it?” Kissing Angie, he turned back to the bath. “Shall I let it out and start again? How did you get on by the way?”

  “Okay, long story for later. Here take Lily back, I’ll get in with her, otherwise we stand a chance of losing her.”

  Returning naked, Angie climbed into the bath and held up her arms for Lily. As Lily splashed around happily, giggling each time a blob of foam landed on her face, Angie updated Ryan. “So, with only the barest of facts, Gran has already decided that Chelly Rogers killed Henry.”