Hidden Kiss (Love Is The Law 2) (8 page)

"It's all right," he muttered, refusing to
acknowledge it. He felt like he was there under duress, for the sake of his mum
and general family relations. He was there for Elaine, and her kids, not for
Riggers. His first instinct had been to refuse the housewarming meal
invitation, and he still wondered if he was making a mistake in coming.

Well, they were here now.

Pearl oohed and aahed with appreciation and delight as
Elaine led her through the tiny house, pointing out features like the
downstairs cloakroom and the shiny metallic oven. Compared to Pearl's run down
terrace, in spite of the freshly painted kitchen, the new build was modern and
sleek. It was the sort of place that Pearl aspired to, and she was genuinely
pleased that her daughter had finally "made it."

In the living room, they'd pushed the sofa back against the
wall and brought in another coffee table and a borrowed chair, and Turner was
urged to take a seat with Pearl, Riggers, Kyle and Liam as Elaine bustled about
in the kitchen. She kept the dividing door open, but didn't talk through to
them.

Kyle and Liam squirmed together in the single armchair.
Turner sat on the sofa with his mum, leaving a gap for Elaine. Riggers took the
hard-backed chair that must have come from upstairs, or more likely, a
neighbour.

Turner expected an awkward silence but his mum was more than
ready to fill any gap with endless chat, and for once, he was grateful. She
talked brightly about the house, the weather, the local news, the dreadful
decisions by the council, and what was happening in the soaps. Finally she
leaned forwards, and called through to the kitchen,

"Elaine? Anything I can do, love?"

"She's all right." Riggers answered for her.

"I should have asked before. I'm so sorry. How rude.
She usually asks me to go right in and help out, though. What's she doing in
there?" Pearl started to rise to her feet, but Riggers waved her down
again.

"I said, she's fine. She takes a lot of pride in her
housework, does Elaine."

Turner's eyebrows shot up and he snorted. "There's a
change."

Riggers shrugged but didn't rise to it. Pearl must have
sensed an undercurrent, because she immediately began to ask how Kyle and Liam
were doing at school.

"Really well, aren't you, lads?" Riggers stared at
them.

The twins scowled downwards, not happy at being dragged into
the conversation. They were entwined around a handheld games console. Neither
looked up but Kyle yelped, "School sucks." Liam elbowed him.

Elaine came through at that moment, carrying a large tray of
food. "Kyle! Liam! Enough of that!" She smiled apologetically at
Pearl and Turner as she set the tray onto the table. "I'm sorry. We're
trying to teach him manners but… boys, you know." She unloaded the plates
and then straightened up, addressing Kyle. "You'll end up back on report
again. Now come on, put that thing down. We're ready to eat."

"Report?" Turner shook his head in mock
disappointment at the still-grumpy face of Kyle. "What have you been up
to?"

"It's nothing," Riggers interrupted smoothly.
"A few weeks ago he was being a handful in class. It's all better now,
isn't it?"

Kyle took his time closing down the game that he was
playing. It riled Riggers, who spoke again, with menace in his voice, "Put
that game down
now
and show your mother some respect."

Kyle dropped the console over the arm of the chair, to the
floor, and shuffled to the edge of the cushion, keeping his eyes on the food,
not on Riggers or anyone else.

"Well." Pearl cleared her throat. "What a
lovely spread. Well done, Elaine. Aren't you getting domestic!"

Elaine smiled tightly as she dished out the rice and curry
to everyone. Turner balanced it on his knees and accepted a fork. It was a
tight squeeze on the sofa once three of them were on it, trying to eat, but
that was how it was, so he bit back his complaint. He was pretty sure that the
two downstairs rooms of this semi-detached were smaller than his mum's old
terrace, but the insulation and the upkeep were going to be better.

He still preferred the older houses, himself.

He wished he was anywhere but here, yet he had to admit to a
horrified fascination with Riggers' new personality. Turner felt as if he was
watching the ex-con, just waiting for him to make a mistake and revert to how
he used to be: cocky, arrogant, slimy and usually high on drugs.

Because when he slipped up, Turner would be there to ensure
he slipped
hard.

This wasn't the place for such fantasies, and Turner pushed
it from his mind. At least the curry was good. It was out of a can, but not a
value-brand can, as far as he could tell. It had flavour. Turner liked food.
"What is this," he asked politely, "Thai?"

"English," Riggers replied.

"No, really…"

"The English invented curry, as it happens,"
Riggers said, waving his fork proudly. "Back in the days of the Raj, when
we had India."

I'm really not sure we can say we "had" a
country.
"Well, yes, I've heard that our influence there mixed with
the local traditions and all that. But there's still different types of curry.
Chinese, Indian, Thai. This tastes like a Thai mix? Lemongrass, perhaps?"
Turner kept his tone light and questioning.

Riggers shook his head, clearly refusing to acknowledge any
other culture's influence on curry. "There's too much pandering to other
races," he said. "That's half the problem. We've got to go back over
our own history now and make up stuff about how being English isn't actually
English, and all that! Denying our empire and apologising for it all."

Turner didn't follow a word of it. "Huh?"

"It's the same with women," Riggers continued,
pointing a fork at Elaine, who kept her head bowed. "All that
bullsh…rubbish about rediscovering important women in history. It's all made up
by fat lesbians who have nothing better to do because they can't get a… anyway.
Men and women are different. That's just obvious. But it's all about respect,
isn't it? I respect Elaine a lot. More than I can say. For who she
is.
"

"I can't fault that, the respect thing," Turner
said slowly. "But…" and he stopped. There were holes he could pick in
Riggers' argument but with the twins on the chair looking wide-eyed, and his
mum shifting uncomfortably beside him, he chose to change the subject instead.
"But anyway. Great curry, wherever it's from. Tesco, ahahaha. So, um,
Riggers… Andy…"
Fucking hell, this politeness bullshit is killing me.
"Uh, so how's the new job going? Well done for finding one. They're like
hen's teeth these days, aren't they?" He forced a jocular tone into his
words.
I hope you appreciate this effort, mum.

He made eye contact with Riggers, trying to convey to him
that he was really trying to avoid any confrontation. To Turner's relief,
Riggers moved with the conversational turn.

"It's all right. I mean, it's warehouse work, it's
nothing special, but it's a job. And I need to be working and paying my way. I
see that now. I learned a lot in prison, and one of the things I learned is
about self-worth and being a member of society. I thought it was about the
fight, the game between me and the police. But it's not."

Pearl nodded. "It's so nice to hear you say all that,
Andy."

"Thanks. Elaine? Coffees, please."

Turner stood up and put his plate on the tray, and reached
out to collect the plates from Kyle and Liam. "I'll help."

Elaine looked from Turner to Riggers. "No, no, it's
okay."

"I'll bring this through."

"No." Elaine spoke sharply. "You're a guest.
Sit down."

Pearl's hand on his sleeve tugged Turner back to the sofa.
"I don't like not helping out, seems rude," he muttered.

"Her house, her rules," Pearl said lightly,
patting his leg as if he were a kid and not a grown man.

Tuner subsided. Kyle reached down over the arm of the chair,
hunting for his games console again, but Riggers hissed and the boy retracted
his arm immediately, gathering himself into a ball, legs tucked under him.

"So, are you full time, Andy?" Pearl asked, with
genuine interest, not just politeness, in her voice.

"Yeah, just about. I'm really pleased. Overtime
sometimes, too. It's only minimum wage but it's something. And like Turner
said, it's hard these days, with all these immigrants taking our jobs."

Turner squeezed his eyes together briefly.
Breathe. Don't
even rise to it. He probably expects me to agree with him. He's probably not
even deliberately picking a fight.

"It's a scandal, isn't it," Pearl murmured. "The
stuff you read in the papers! Shocking. Well, anyway. Ah! Coffee! Thanks,
love."

"You're welcome." Elaine passed the mugs around
and Turner accepted one gratefully. The china didn't match but it didn't
matter. The coffee was hot, milky and sweet, and it gave them all something
else to focus on.

I've got to get away. Everything the little rat says
needles me, somehow. And I don't want to cause a scene but I can't stay silent
much longer.

I should speak out anyway. It's because of people staying
silent that shitty attitudes like his gain in power. But I can't, not in front
of my mum and the kids.

Perhaps it's even worse if I don't challenge him. Kyle
and Liam could end up thinking Riggers is right about stuff.

Fuck. Fuckity. Let's drink this and get gone from here.

Turner forced the hot liquid down, burning his lips and
throat. "Ready to make a move, mum?"

* * * *

Emily didn't want to be stuck late at work on Friday night.
Or at least, that's what she'd told everyone. Yet when Polly wandered through
the front office at five thirty, she was still at her computer. Polly slicked a
fresh application of lip gloss across her mouth and patted her hair.

"Hey, pet, you're last here. Thought you said that you
wanted gone?"

"I do, I did. Just… a few more things."

"You've got some hot date surprise from your lover man,
haven't you? There ain't nothing that won't wait till Monday. Go on!"

"Almost done."

"I am gonna come around and just unplug your
computer." Polly shoved the lip gloss away, smacked her lips, and then
began to advance around the desk. "C'mon."

"All right, all right!" Emily hit save and started
to power down. "Jeez."

"Don't you want to be home?"

"Of course I do."

"Seen much of him lately?"

Emily pulled on her coat and started to flick the lights
off. She sighed. "This week? Not since we had lunch on Tuesday."

"Hmm. Going off the boil, is it, pet?"

"No, not at all. Okay, I'm ready to go."

They walked out of the building together, and out onto the
street. It was still light, as spring was creeping across the country, even to
the north. "But something's bugging you," Polly insisted, unwilling
to let it go. "Tell your auntie Polly."

"I'm just tired."

"You're working too hard, pet! You don't need to prove
anything to anyone. Come here." Emily was dragged into a warm, bouncy hug,
completely out of the blue. Polly hung on for a good while before releasing her
with a tut. "Did you know that hugs are supposed to last at least three
seconds? For the best effect? Okay. Off you go now. Have a great weekend with
your stud muffin!"

"Er… thanks. And you."

Emily walked briskly home. She did long to see Turner, she
really did. But she also knew she'd been avoiding him this week, telling
herself - and him - that she had a lot of work to do.

I probably just like the suspense and build-up.
Recreating that rush of first love.

Her mobile pinged with a text from Turner and she smiled as
she read it. He was going to be round to collect her at seven that night, so
she had enough time for a leisurely bath and relax. There would be candles,
music, heaps of bubbles, and any other female stereotype she could think of,
short of cheap white wine.

The cash flow crisis she was experiencing was easing
slightly, as she'd had her first pay packet from the new job. Thank heavens
that agency work paid weekly. Still, she was dancing precariously around the
lower reaches of her overdraft. This meant that the bubble bath she'd bought
looked like it could clean drains, and it took half the bottle to create any
decent pile of foam.

A hot bath was a hot bath. A soon as she was home, she
started the bath running and emptied almost the entire bottle of lurid
"sheer indulgence" foam into it. Then, armed with a cup of tea on the
chair by the bath, and a female vocalist of the "empowering" sort on
low in the background, she slid into the warm water and told herself,
I am
not going to fret about Joel.

She groaned to herself. It was like saying "don't think
about pink elephants."
Okay, so what is still bothering me about him?

It felt like unfinished business and it reminded her of her
past mistakes in journalism. She wanted to make everything better for him, but
knew that she couldn't. Maybe it was just that - the powerlessness she felt.
She should walk away and leave well alone.

I guess this is how Turner still feels about Riggers. But
in that case, he has to accept him as part of family life. Ugh.

She splashed around in the bath, making little waves to
amuse herself.
Ignore the past. We both need to do that.

* * * *

Turner was on time, and he was beaming from ear to ear when
Emily opened her flat door to him. He was dressed in casual jeans and a
lumberjack-type shirt, with a wide leather belt that drew her eyes to his waist.
Not that she needed any encouragement.

"Come on in. So, what's the surprise?"

"We're going away for the weekend!" He beamed like
a small boy.