by M K Turner
“Lorna, are you awake?” Her father tapped at the door.
“Yep, come in, I’m decent.” Her heart stopped as she cast a glance at the basket, but there was no evidence to see.
“Morning, darling. We’re having breakfast then going out. Have to get into town and I want to miss the traffic, so, one, do you want breakfast, and two, would you like to come with us, we’re not stopping long though, just need to collect some dry cleaning.”
“No to both, thanks anyway. I think I might grab another hour’s sleep and then get my homework done out of the way.”
“Very sensible, you’ll be tired on Sunday after a night out. Right, sleep tight, I’ve got to go and scrape the ice off the car.”
Waking almost two hours later, Lorna pulled the sleeve of her jumper over her hand, and pressed herself against the storage heater as she dialled Henry. She’d have to be quick to catch him, he’d be leaving for rugby at eleven. His mother answered the call.
“Hello, Mrs Cooksey, it’s Lorna, may I speak to Henry please?”
“Lorna my lovely, call me Annette, makes me feel old being called Mrs Cooksey. How are you, looking forward to tonight I’ll bet? I’ve got his jacket and shirt all pressed and ready, and . . . what? Sorry, Lorna, Henry is acting like a child. I’m having a conversation. What . . . Oh you cheeky bugger.”
“It’s me, sorry about Mum, she waffles.”
Lorna giggled as she heard his mother’s shout of “I do not!” Loud and clear.
“It’s freezing out, I’m not convinced the game will be on. Pitch might be too hard to play. If it is, shall we meet up?”
“I hope it is, then you won’t have a black eye or a bulbous nose for tonight, but, no, I have to get ready. Jeepers, Batman, engage the brain.”
“Listen, Robin. You are already perfect, what bit of you needs getting ready? Ten minutes to shower and clean your teeth. Five minutes to dress, and seconds to put some lipstick on?”
“Hair. I have to wash, dry and style my hair. I was thinking ringlets.”
“Whatlets? Is that something unique to robins?” Laughing, Henry sat on the stairs. “Just to warn you, Mum is threatening the hoover, so it might get noisy. But back to the point, you are already perfect, so you would be choosing to mess about instead of spending time with me.”
“I love you for saying that Batman, but you’d soon get fed up with me if I didn’t make the effort.”
“I would not! Seriously, don’t you want to . . . Mum, can I help you? This is private. Okay, she’s gone, blimey I wish I had a phone in my room. Actually, I wish I had you in my room.”
“Enough of that, that’s how girls fall pregnant.” Lorna bit her lip, wondering whether to tell him, wanting to tell him. Instead, she said, “But I do too.”
“You see, ringlets are an unnecessary distraction. Meet . . .” Henry glanced at the kitchen door to make sure his mother wasn’t eavesdropping. “You aren’t worried about you know what, are you? It was only once, and it was the first time, we’ve used something since then.” His concern was evident. “I think you should go on the pill if you’re that worried. They won’t tell your parents, they’re not allowed.”
“I know they won’t tell, I don’t think I need to go on the pill, Batman.” Lorna was now worried, perhaps she’d been wrong about Henry. Pulling her shoulders back, she stood straight, almost immediately missing the warmth of the heater. “Batman, if I were—”
“Be serious for a moment, Lorna. I love you, whatever happens, I will always love you.”
Grinning, Lorna jumped up and down. “I love you too, Batman. Can’t wait to see you tonight, I might share a secret with you, if you’re lucky.” Almost dropping the phone, Lorna jumped as someone spoke behind her.
“How long have you been on that phone this time? I thought we’d discussed this.” Chelly stood hand on hips, her body tense, looking at Lorna as though she might spring forward and slap her at any moment.
“More to the point, how long have you been listening to a private conversation?” Not waiting for an answer, Lorna returned her attention to Henry. “I have to go, she’s doing it again. Love you, I’ll be at the bus stop when your bus gets there.”
Replacing the receiver carefully, she turned back to face Chelly. “Why are you standing there staring at me? I’m off the bloody phone.”
“Don’t you dare swear at me. Be careful young lady or you’re grounded.” Chelly jabbed a polished nail just inches from Lorna’s face.
“Why? Because I used the phone? Dad pays the bills and he doesn’t mind. I have no idea why you do.” Stomping up the stairs, Lorna muttered an insult under her breath.
“One day, young lady, you and that clever mouth of yours will come unstuck, and then you’ll be sorry.”
“Stop nagging me. I’ll be moving out just as soon as I can, and then you can find something else to moan about.” Stomping a bit louder, she slammed her bedroom door. Hearing raised voices, she switched on her radio and turned up the volume. I Want to Stay With You was playing, and taking that as a good omen, she relaxed and selected the nail varnish colour she thought would match her outfit.
Chapter Eighteen
“That’s when I was going to tell him. Why didn’t I tell him? I almost had anyway. I think this at least once every day. But telling you now in detail and knowing how he disappeared, I wish I’d told him, perhaps then he wouldn’t have got into that car.” Lorna’s eyes closed as she pondered this.
It was clear that there was still no love lost between Lorna and her stepmother, and Angie dreaded what effect knowing about Henry’s relationship with her would have on Lorna. She wondered if it was possible to keep that element away from her, and resolved to do her best.
Bridget decided it was time to move things on. “Are your dad and Chelly still alive? It might be useful if we speak to them, they may remember something that seems insignificant.”
“Dad is, but he’s eighty-six and is not in the best health. I’m not sure how reliable he would be, and as I said, he hates talking about anything to do with that time in our lives.”
Lorna’s face hardened. “Which brings us to Chelly. I’ve not seen or heard from her since the day we left for Salcombe. Nor do I want to. I doubt she’d be of much help even if she was around. Chelly was only ever interested in one thing - Chelly. She probably wouldn’t even remember Henry.”
Lorna forced a smile. “I can certainly ask Dad to speak to you, but I’ll only do it on the understanding you don’t mention her. There is nothing to be gained from upsetting an old man.”
“That would be . . .” Angie glanced at her phone which vibrated to let her know a call was coming in. Rejecting the call, she switched off the recorder. “As I was saying, that would be great. We’ll leave you in peace now. By the way, I understand Dan Simmons was a best friend of Henry’s, we’re trying to arrange a meeting, are you still in touch with any of Henry’s friends from back then?”
“Ahh, dear old Simmons. I think he took Henry’s disappearance almost as hard as I did. Whereas I was all weepy and wilting, he was one angry young man. At first he kept assuring me that Henry would come home, eventually we both accepted Annette was right. Then he just stopped coming around, it was a shame, I think he would have been pleased about Robin, but by the time he was born, Simmons had gone . . . I think someone told me he’d joined the army. I never saw him again.
“As to the others, they sort of drift away when you’ve got a baby, and we moved, not far, but far enough not to bump into people.” Lorna grimaced. “Not to mention becoming a mother when I was so young, and with Dad working, I barely had time to think. I’d have been lost without the support I got from Annette. If you do manage to see Dan Simmons, tell him I said hello.”
“I will do. Thank you for your time.”
Standing, Lorna smiled. “Thank you for doing this. I’m not sure what help it will be to anyone but Annette, she needs closure, but it’s nice he won’t be forgotten. If anything crucial comes up, you
will let us know, won’t you?”
Taking her hand, Bridget patted it. “We will, and should you remember anything, however insignificant it may seem, please call us.”
Agreeing, Lorna showed them out, and Angie listened to her voicemail on the way to the car. Starting the engine, she looked at Bridget.
“That was Dan Simmons, he can spare us an hour this afternoon, or it will be a fortnight because he’s off on holiday tomorrow night. We still have to drop in to see Mum, did you have any other plans, Gran?”
“Not as interesting as this. Call Simmons, see if we can go now.”
They were in luck; although Simmons assured them that he knew nothing that could help, he agreed to speak to them, and as he was in town running errands, they agreed to meet in a pub not far from Margaret’s home.
“Splendid. Two birds, one stone - almost. I’ll give your mother a quick ring.” Bridget located her own phone and left a message to say they’d be popping over. “Both her mobile and house phone went to message. Do you think that’s odd?”
“Not if she has a migraine no. She’s probably in bed.”
“Hmm.”
“What does ‘hmm’ mean?”
“Well, if I were poorly, I’d make sure I took my phone to bed with me. I might need it in an emergency, or worse, someone might phone and I’d have to get up.”
“But she might want to avoid speaking to anyone so she can get some rest. Gran, you are making too much of it I’m sure. We’re going to see her once we’ve spoken to Dan Simmons, so you’ll be able to see for yourself.”
Bridget merely nodded, and remained silent for the journey to the pub. Knowing her grandmother was concerned, Angie gabbled on about Lily to try and take her mind off it, but Bridget only smiled in the right places. Angie was relieved when they pulled into the pub car park.
As Angie locked the car, a tall balding man got out of a car opposite and called to them.
“Is it Angie?” Locking his own car, he walked towards them.
Holding out her hand, Angie smiled. “Mr Simmons, yes, I’m Angie. Thanks for agreeing to see us. This is Bridget.”
Taking her hand, Simmons smiled. “Dan will do. It’s not too busy here today, we should be able to get a quiet table.”
Having seated the two women, he went to the bar and bought their drinks. The two women had opted for soft drinks, but he had a pint of bitter. Taking a swig, he placed his glass down, and looked at Angie.
“There really is news on Henry? I have to confess I was thrown when you called.”
“Some, but not much. We know Henry left the bus stop in a car. He appeared to know the driver, but we have no idea of their identity. So we’re trying to find out what he was like, who he hung around with, anything to help build a picture, and hopefully pick up clues which weren’t obvious at the time.”
Sipping her own drink, Angie watched him carefully. She knew from his handshake he knew something important, but she didn’t know what, or how to get it out of him.
“Blimey, it’s been so long, not sure how much help I can be. I joined the army as soon as I left school, only returned to the area a few years back because my mum was poorly, so I lost touch with almost everyone. What sort of thing were you after?”
“Anything that was going on around that time. Don’t try and think of anything that might seem important to his disappearance, just talk about the Henry you knew.” Bridget patted his hand, and tilted her head. “You were his best friend, and very important to him.”
“Yes, we were good mates. He was a great friend to have. Same interests, same sense of humour, team mates at rugby. If he hadn’t been murdered, I know we would still have been friends. I loved him like a brother. Actually better than a brother, Henry never bugged me like my brother did.” Picking up his glass, Simmons didn’t take a drink, instead he stared into it. His shoulders sagged and he looked tired.
“You say murdered. Why?” Bridget pounced on his choice of words.
Raising his eyes to meet hers, Simmons shoulders twitched. “Because the Henry I knew didn’t disappear voluntarily. Ask his mother.”
“We have, and she concurs, but she didn’t suggest murder, just that he was dead.”
“But if it wasn’t murder his body would have been found.” The frown which rippled away into his bald patch, told Bridget he thought she was being slow.
“Ah, yes,” she conceded. “Then the question is, by whom?”
Again his shoulders twitched but he didn’t answer. His frown remained and Angie decided to change the subject.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“The day he disappeared. Only for an hour or so. We had a game scheduled and turned up at the ground, but it had been cancelled. We thought it might be, it was bloody freezing – I’m sorry, excuse my language.” When Bridget flipped her hand, he carried on. “We thought there might be a chance we could get some training in, but the coach wouldn’t even let us do that, so we went to the cafe.” He smiled, and for the first time Bridget saw in his face the boy next to Henry in the team photograph.
“You’re smiling, did you have fun?”
“It was always fun being with Henry. He had no agenda, we teased, we joked, we laughed.” Something occurred to him and the frown was back. “Do you know I don’t think we ever argued. Not about anything.”
Gazing out of the window behind Angie, Simmons was lost in his memories.
“What did you talk about that day?” Angie prompted.
“Everything and nothing. We were going to see a film that night and discussed what we’d been told about it. We’d heard there were a few sex scenes, I told him he would get embarrassed because Lorna was there.” He sighed. “I hate that bloody film now. It was quite good for its day, but there was I trying to grope the girl I was with, and enjoying the music and all that, and poor Henry . . .” His hands curled into fists. “I was so bloody ashamed of myself. The names I called him when he didn’t turn up, and I thought he’d found something better to do.”
“That’s understandable,” soothed Bridget. “We’re all wise with the power of hindsight.”
“Yes. But I should have known better.” Drinking half his pint, he pulled back his shoulders. “I don’t think I know anything that can help you. I’m sorry.”
“What about the woman he was seeing?” Purposely choosing the word woman, Angie watched closely for his reaction and knew he’d worked out who it was. His face told her that, but his words contradicted this.
“Woman? You mean Lorna?”
“No, I mean the woman he was seeing before Lorna agreed to go out with him. He was sleeping with an older woman. Do you know who she was?”
“No.”
“But you knew about her, even if you didn’t know who she was.” Angie pressed him.
“Not really. I can’t help you. Henry didn’t want to talk about her. He made a mistake and he hated her.” His nose wrinkled in distaste. “She was trouble. He wanted her out of his life, but she was giving him a hard time because she wanted to carry on seeing him. All that doesn’t matter now though, does it?”
Moving to pat his hand again, Bridget was surprised when he moved it into his lap. “It might.”
“Well, I repeat, I can’t help you. He never told me who it was.” Finishing his pint, Simmons lifted his car keys.
“But you thought it was a teacher?” Angie suggested.
“How the hell did you know that?” The car keys were back on the table.
“He kept a diary of sorts.” Leaving it at that, Angie asked, “Did you try and work out who it was?”
“Of course, I was intrigued,” he smiled briefly, “jealous even. I had theories, but it was too long ago to remember what they were. Actually, I did tease him it was one of the sports mistresses at school, she was a looker. But handsome and charming as Henry was, she was way out of his league.”
“Unless she had a thing about young men,” suggested Bridget.
Forcing a laugh, Simmons shoo
k his head. “Can’t remember her name, but I’m sure you could find out and ask her. She should still be around she wasn’t that much older than us, she was straight out of college.” He retrieved his keys.
“Yes, we will. Are you in a rush?” Bridget looked at the keys.
“Yes and no. I have things that I need to do. If I thought I could be of any use I would stay. But much as I wish you luck, ladies, I can’t help. I hope you find Lorna though, when you do, pass on my regards.”
“Oh, sorry, didn’t I say? We’ve found Lorna. She’s well, as is her son, Robin, and grandson, Henry.”
“Henry?” A smile started to tug at his lips. “Robin, I like that. Did she tell you what she used to call Henry?”
“Batman.” Angie smiled.
“Yes. And that was the thing about Henry, it didn’t embarrass him, not really. He didn’t get wound up about stuff that didn’t matter. When I took the mickey, he told me she said it was a term of affection. Me and his dad had a good laugh at his expense. Has she had a good life? I hope so, she was a lovely girl.”
“She says so. I think she still misses Henry to this day, but she’s made a good life for herself and her family.”
“That’s good.” Simmons nodded approval. “I hope her bloke never finds out the significance. If it was me, I wouldn’t be happy.” He rubbed his brow. “Nice as Henry was, if it was my kid, not sure I’d want him named after a childhood sweetheart.” His sigh came from deep within. “Henry would have made a good dad. Not sure he would have allowed the name Robin though.”
“Robin is Henry’s son”
Bridget jumped as Simmons rapped the table with some force, his smile was back and it stretched from ear to ear.
“You’re kidding me. Really? That’s the best news I’ve had for . . . ever! Bloody marvellous. How bloody wonderful. Sneaky sod, he led me to believe he’d not got that far.” Looking from one to the other, he looked like he’d been told he’d won the lottery. “That’s made my day. My bloody year in fact. Sorry, I swear when I’m happy too. Too many years in the army.”