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Only A Game

By

Peter Freeman

 

The next day dawned bright and clear. The morning was spent in a welter of domesticity, shopping, playing with Billie, washing and ironing. Dave spent the entire morning in the driveway, feet sticking out from under his car, changing a bearing in the gear box of his ageing Ford Zephyr.

Towards midday, he walked into the kitchen, oil all over his face and hands, brandishing a spanner.

“Chap outside to see you Jen” he said “Message from Terry. How’s the coffee pot Lainy?”

Jenny went out and saw a tall broad shouldered man dressed in a sweater and jeans standing on the pavement by Terry’s firm’s car.

“Mrs Harper” said the man pleasantly.

Jenny nodded.

“I’ve a message from Terry for you. He said to tell you that he’ll be away a hit longer than he anticipated so not to worry. He’s lent me his car for the holiday”

“Who are you?” Jenny asked puzzled. She didn’t know that any Welshmen worked for Terry’s firm.

“Colleague of his, on my way to a wedding in Nottingham. He lent me the car on the understanding I’d give you the message. Major Drew OK’d it. Here’s a note for you.”

The contents of the short letter confirmed the man’s story. It was certainly in Terry’s handwriting.

 “Thank you” she said and turned away. Then realising that she may have

seemed inhospitable she went back to the gate to offer the messenger a cup of coffee

However, she was just in time to see Terry’s car doing a rapid U turn in the road and with a squeal of tyres it accelerated away.

She walked back into the house.

She was upset by the message but it somehow didn’t ring true. Either because of its content or because she distrusted the means of its delivery she refused to accept it at its face value.

“May I use your phone?” She asked Dave as he began to coil himself under the car once more.

“Sure kid” he said. She went upstairs and took her diary from her handbag, flipped it open at her telephone list of numbers, sat on the bed and picked up the phone. She dialled Terry’s firm and got no reply. It was a long shot but she thought someone might have been there.

She tried Drew’s home number but again the ringing tone echoed hollowly in her ears.

Lastly she tried Donald McGregor’s cottage in Holyhead. But again drew a blank.

She walked into the kitchen and helped herself to a coffee.

Elaine listened to the gist of the message and tufted understandingly.

“Go and see him” she said “it’s the only way to clear the air. Go and sort him out.”

Jenny thought for a while.

“I’ll think about it” she said.

One part of her wanted desperately to go to Terry, take him somewhere quiet and talk down the barrier that seemed to lie between them. Another part of her stubbornly refused to accept that it was her place to go to him. Why shouldn’t he come to her, why did she have to climb down and drive all the way to Holyhead and throw herself at his mercy and in front of his friends too? It was too degrading. However, it was obvious that Terry was not coming to Buxton. That much was clear from the message she had received. So if the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go and make obeisance to the mountain.

The whole afternoon she spent debating with herself Elaine and Dave had left her alone to think the matter out and had gone off in the car for a trip up on the moors.

Jenny had almost decided to go, but not until the morning, when the telephone rang loudly, insistently.

She picked up the receiver and a voice with a pronounced Irish accent said “Could I be speakin to Mrs Terence Harper please?”

“Speaking” she said, heart pounding unaccountably.

“Ah, Mrs. Harper I’m ringing you about Terry.”

“Yes” she said.

“He-er, rather I would like you to come over to Holyhead and er sort him out.”

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Me names Michael Connolly. I’m an acquaintance of your husband and I’ve formed a very high opinion of him. For that reason I don’t want to see him get into trouble. Could you come over?”

“What kind of trouble?” Jenny asked worriedly.

“Oh don’t worry, he’s in one piece but I think you’d be best advised to come and help him.” He seemed to be in a hurry.

“But someone came this morning to say Terry would be away all weekend.” Jenny said trying to think.”

“Did they now” Michael said his voice full of interest. “What did he say and what did he look like?”

Jenny told him as well as she could

“Hmm” Michael went on “Look Jenny, let me call you Jenny, I’m Mike, I’m a kind of policeman and one of Terry’s customers is a wrong ‘un. Terry had got himself mixed up with him simply by being his normal helpful self. I promise you that the message you received this morning did not come from Terry.”

“But how do I know you’re not lying?” Jenny said desperately, “It all sounds too fantastic for words.”

“Very true. If my bosses knew I was ringing you I’d get the sack, but I’m a bit concerned for the lad. Just come over and see for yourself. And go steady.”

He rang off abruptly.

Jenny put the phone down slowly, her mind a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Terry, in trouble with a customer, what on earth was it all about? A sort of policeman, concerned for Terry’s welfare? - She looked at her watch. It was 5.30. She went into the kitchen and made herself a sandwich, which she put in a polythene bag in case she needed to eat on the journey. She certainly didn’t feel like eating now.

She scribbled a note for her sister and left the house.

As she drove out of the town she suddenly felt glad that she was on her way to see Terry. It was the right thing to do. Trouble or no trouble she wanted to face him once and for all and get their marriage either hack on an even keel or over and done with.

She drove fearfully but very quickly towards the Welsh Mountains.

When she arrived at the outskirts of the town she hesitated, uncertain whether to go straight to Donald’s cottage or to see if the “Karma” had sailed. The night was dark and flurries of rain slashed against the windows of the car as she drove through the deserted streets. She arrived at the Yacht Harbour as a result of her indecision rather than by conscious volition and drew in by the kerb. The water was disturbed and choppy. The reflections of the harbour lights danced wildly in the water as Jenny shut the car door and stood looking out towards “Karma’s” usual mooring. The wind was cold and she turned her collar up with her gloved hand and shivered. “Karma” was out there, there was a light in her cabin and she thought she could see a figure moving in the wheelhouse silhouetted against the light from the cabin hatch.

Then in the feeble light from another moored yacht she caught sight of a rubber dinghy being steered purposefully out across the harbour. It was difficult to be sure but she thought she recognised the broad features of Jack Davies, Donald McGregor’s right hand man, his face set with concentration as the dinghy punched its way through the short steep seas.

She waved and called out but the wind was blowing strongly into her face and anyway the outboard engine would have drowned her relatively feeble cries.

What now she wondered? She couldn’t stay here all night. She made up her mind; she would go to the cottage and see if anyone was there. If not she’d get the key from its usual place in the woodshed and let herself in. She had an open invitation to stay there from Donald McGregor. She knew full well that the invitation was entirely without strings and would apply even if Terry weren’t around. In fact, Donald would probably prefer it. She knew that he’d a very soft spot in his heart for her.

She drove quickly out of the town to the cottage and was slightly surprised to see the light in the hallway. She slammed the car door and ran down the path.

The door opened and there stood Terry. After a short hesitation he spoke almost as if he had been expecting her.

“Hello, Jenny” he said “come on in.”

A lump came to her throat as she noticed his dishevelled hair, wild tired eyes and an almost defeated air.

“I’m sorry Terry” she said quickly. “I had to come, I don’t know why. Well at least” she paused and looked away, “there was one special reason but I just needed to see you.” The words tumbled out in a rush. She hadn’t meant to sound apologetic and hated herself for feeling it necessary to provide an excuse for her presence.

“I’m glad you came Jenny” he said quietly.

She wanted to fling her arms around him and kiss him just as she had done in the past but the barrier was still there and she hesitated for too long. There were light steps behind her and she turned away from him. The moment, the crucial moment was lost forever.