Hidden Kiss (Love Is The Law 2) (7 page)

Turner felt the skin on his face tighten at the mention of
Riggers. It was odd to hear him called Andy, even if it was his real name. He
was always going to be Riggers to him. He tried to keep the disbelief out of
his voice as he asked, "Working? Is that so."

"It is so."

"Where? What? I mean, legitimately working?"

"Fuck off Turner."

"It's a genuine question. Where's he working?"

"He's in a warehouse. I know it might not sound like
much but you know how it is. I'm dead proud of him, you know. He's really trying.
He's been sprung a sudden nightshift and cos he's new he can't say no, can
he?"

Turner was rolling his eyes again. "Okay, okay. I can
do it. What time do you need me there?"

"Six."

"Okay. See you later."

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and rejoined the
band. "Hey. Any of you fellas know what the fuck
ear candling
is?"

* * * *

The shower water was hot and Turner lingered under it. The
luxury of a hot shower in the privacy of your own home. It was bliss. He moved
around in a slow circle, almost like he was basting himself, letting the steam
fill the bathroom and cloud his lungs. He could spend all day in here. It
wouldn't take him long to get to his sister's house. Well, Riggers' house. He
hadn't been there yet, and he was both curious and reluctant to go.

He didn't want to think about Riggers. Instead, he thought
about Emily. The last four weeks of his sentence had been agony for him. He'd
driven himself half mad with worry, knowing that Riggers was out and Turner was
not. When they had both been sentenced, Riggers had been furious, and put half
the blame onto Emily.

He'd shouted threats across the courtroom as they took him
away, and that was the last time Turner had seen him. The memory of the
half-drugged-up street vermin of a man, flailing his skinny wrists and hurling
abuse at everyone, stuck in Turner's mind with more clarity than the memory of
his own bedroom.

Damn. I'm thinking about Riggers again.

He stepped out and towelled off vigorously, as if he could
scrub away the bad memories of the past.
And I need to get down the gym,
otherwise all that hard work in prison will be wasted too. These abs won't last
with all that sitting in pubs and drinking lager.

He loved having plans and things to look forward to. Emily,
his work, gym; a whole life stretching out before him. Emily was a huge part of
that. He'd once said that she was a woman worth going straight for, and he
stuck by it. Did she know how much influence she had over him?

Probably not.

She was a baffling woman, though. He thought he'd got to
know her, through their letters and phone calls, but now he was out, he was
often wrong-footed by her. He wanted to dig deeper into her mind, and work out
what she was thinking. Unlike other women he'd known, she seemed to keep things
to herself until she had made her mind up - and then her decisions surprised
him.

Taking some agency work in a charity's offices, for a start.
What was that about? She loved journalism and he knew that writing about films
and galleries had always been her dream. He had been so proud of her for having
the courage to break away from her niche in social justice, and pursue her
original aims.

So why was she seemingly abandoning it all?

He shook his head. Maybe that was why he was still falling
for her, again and again, each time they met. She was alive with energy and
unexpected movements. He wanted to pin her down and capture her and make a nest
for her - but he also knew, quite clearly, that doing so would turn her into
someone else. He didn't want to clip her wings.

I'll give it time. She's infuriating and delightful and I
am sure she's not quite happy about something, and I want to solve that and
make everything perfect. I want to build a perfect future for her, and for me.

The way things are going, I reckon I can, too.

* * * *

Oh, fuck.

Riggers was the last person that Turner wanted to see. But
there he was, in green combat trousers and a high-visibility vest, getting
ready to go to work.

Elaine led Turner into the tiny living room. Riggers' house
was a new build semi-detached and it seemed to have been made of paper and
cardboard. Everything was painted magnolia and the three-piece suite filled the
whole room. Kyle and Liam were engrossed in a game on the console and barely
looked up. Through the open door to the kitchen, Turner could see Riggers
stuffing a sandwich down his face. Turner looked away.

"Ahh. Nice place. Settling in?" Turner dropped his
laptop bag onto a chair and addressed his sister.

"Yes, thanks." She scanned around the room and
found her bag half-under a cushion. She was just starting to sort through her
purse and bits and pieces when Riggers called in a muffled voice from the
kitchen.

"Elaine? Got my food ready for tonight?"

"Hang on." She glanced up from her bag.
"Where's my phone? Can you ring my phone so I can find it, Turner?"

"I am about to go." Riggers spoke with a flat note
of expectation in his voice, and Elaine shrugged helplessly at Turner. She
dropped her bag to the chair again.

"Give me a minute. He's off soon," she said,
apologetically.

She went through to the kitchen and began to open doors and
clatter things across the worktop. Turner half-turned as if he was watching
what the boys were playing, but he kept Riggers and Elaine in his peripheral
vision.

She seemed to scurry around him like some kind of fucking
housemaid.
Elaine was always a cocky kind of girl. She'd grown up in the
harsh city streets and she was nobody's fool. She could hold her own against
anyone. Yet Turner thought that she seemed smaller, somehow, when she was
around Riggers. Her shoulders sloped.

Turner decided to prod the hornet's nest, and he stepped to
the doorway, leaning on the side of the frame with a casual air. "Don't
you make your own sandwiches, Riggers?" He tried to sound jocular and
unthreatening.

"Well, no," Riggers answered, packing his
rucksack. "What's a woman for?"

Turner glanced at Elaine who merely smiled. Turner shook his
head and kept his tone light. "Ha ha."

But Riggers didn't seem to be joking. He didn't smile back. He
zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, and said, "One of the
problems with today's society is that people don't accept that men and women
are different. So everyone tries to do everything, and then there's problems,
you see? It's basic biology. Now you and me, Turner, I reckon we can agree on
one thing."

Turner doubted it very much, but he took the bait.
"What's that, then?"

"Children are the most important thing, right?"

Elaine was nodding vigorously and Turner couldn't disagree.

"Yeah. Of course."

"There you go, then. And who has kids? It's the mum.
It's a discussion for another time, mate, I've got to dash."

Riggers nodded at Turner, without a trace of gloating. He
stepped across to Elaine, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and said, "Your
taxi will be here soon. Have a good time." Then, to Turner, he said,
"Thanks for the help tonight. Catch you later, mate."

He breezed out of the kitchen and Turner scratched his head,
staring at Elaine. "I don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Any of it. What falls out of his mouth. Got any
beer?"

"Check the fridge. Help yourself. I've got to get
ready. Where's my bloody phone?"

She dashed off upstairs and Turner rummaged around for a
lager. The fridge was well-stocked, which pleased him. He took the can back
through to the tiny living room, where the twins were still engrossed in the
game on the television.

Elaine came back down, in her coat and scarf, finally
clutching her phone, and started through a list of instructions to him - what
time Kyle and Liam had to be in bed, what they could eat, drink, watch and do.
Turner absorbed it all carefully. Done with her list, Elaine hovered by the
front window, peeping out between the curtains.

"I've got to ask," Turner said eventually.
"What's with the taxi thing? Seems a daft expense to me. Does he not trust
you?"

She shot him an unfriendly look. "He cares for me,
actually, and that's how he shows it. By looking after me. Protecting me."

"Hmm. Okay."

Elaine's thin hand parted the curtain again and she peeked
out as car headlights flashed past. "I don't expect you to understand,
Turner. You're too laid back. You go along with things too much."

Turner nearly dropped his can of lager in surprise. He sat
forward on the couch, fascinated to hear how other people perceived him.
"You really think that?" He knew that he wanted nothing more than to
split Riggers and Elaine up, and send Riggers packing. He didn't want to go
along with anything and he certainly didn't feel laid back. He wanted to
control his life and his future - that's what drove him. Did Elaine really not
see that?

"With relationships, yeah," Elaine said. "You're
seeing Emily, right? Well, what do you plan on doing?"

"Doing?"

"In the future."

Making an excellent future, that was what.
But he
knew Elaine was getting at other things. Marriage. That sort of thing. "Oh
come on, it's all a bit early for that!"

Elaine turned her head and her eyes were fierce.
"You're just going to roll along with her in a comfortable way, just
keeping things the same. You think you're all dynamic but you're like everyone else.
You're all sheep. You talk about new things and change but you'll plod along
just as you are. Sheep - people. Sheeple."

Riggers hadn't sounded like Riggers and now Elaine didn't
sound like Elaine. Turner said, "that's a funny phrase. Where's all this
come from?"

Elaine shrugged, her attention caught by the street again.
"The taxi's here. Okay, I won't be late back. Love you, boys."

Kyle and Liam barely glanced her way, but they did shout,
"Bye mum!" in unison as she disappeared.

Turner sat back again and took a long swig of his lager.
There was a familiar ring to some of Riggers' and Elaine's new attitudes, and
he was forming some suspicions.

* * * *

Emily still felt awkward taking any time away from her desk,
but it was realising that it was necessary for her sanity. When Turner phoned
to suggest they meet for lunch the following day, she was inclined to refuse,
but Polly was perched on the edge of her desk and making pointed movements of
her hand. It looked like she was waving away wasps, but Emily knew she was
being urged to go out. Working with Polly was like being steamrollered by a
plush cuddly toy.

"I can only stay half an hour," she said to him as
soon as she got near to where he was sitting in the coffee shop. "Sorry, I
should say hello and how are you first… I'm sorry. Been rushing around, and
it's kinda manic."

"Sure, I understand. I've got you a coffee already.
More importantly…" Turner stood up, unfolding himself and wrapping his
arms around her. She fell into his kiss and let her eyes close, for a moment
temporarily eased of her worries and troubles. She could spend her life safe in
his embrace.

She fought away after a while, aware of the stare of the
other customers, and her own rumbling belly. "Let me grab a
sandwich."

They ate quickly, not talking. Emily watched Turner,
drinking in his movements. She still couldn't get enough of him. Looking at
him, absorbing him, feeding off his vitality.

"Have I got mayonnaise on my chin?" he asked her
at last.

"No. Sorry. Just… watching you."

He opened his mouth to say something sarcastic but then
shook his head, and smiled. He placed one hand over hers, and she smiled back
at the warmth that travelled up from the skin right to her heart.

"So," she said. "What have you been up
to?"

"Website commission for a band. It's a great chance for
me."

"Oh, cool, you'll have to show me. How much have you
done?"

"I got loads finished last night." He tore his
glance away and looked down. "How about you? This new job going
well?"

"Great fun. Loving it. It's busy but I like that."

"Are the people nice?"

She thought about Polly and smiled to herself. She pushed
aside the image of Joel that rose in her mind. "Yeah, they're great too. Especially
this one woman, Polly. Oh god… the time. I'm really sorry." She stood up
and reached for her coat.

"No probs. I'll get this." He nodded to the bar.
"Any plans for the weekend?"

"It's only Wednesday," she protested. "I
can't think further than my own feet at the moment…"

"So, no plans then." He grinned in triumph and she
knew she was in for a surprise as he planted one last kiss on her lips.

Emily floated out of the coffee shop wrapped up in a cloud
of lust and love, her belly roiling like a teenager with a crush. Onwards.
Forwards. Forget her past. Forget Joel. Forget the mistakes - hers, and
Turner's. The future was going to be great.

Turner made an effort. He bought a large bouquet of flowers,
telling the florist it was for a housewarming, not that he thought it made any
difference to what colours and blooms were used. He picked his mum up in his
Range Rover, and drove her the short distance round to Riggers' house. Pearl
Black was still weak from the long months of chemotherapy and Turner didn't
want her walking any further than she had to.

Maybe he could understand Riggers' protective manner towards
Elaine, after all.

"Thank you for this," Pearl said as he helped her
down. Turner knew she didn't just mean the lift to the house; she was referring
to the fact that Turner had accepted the invitation to tea with Riggers and
Elaine at all.