Bodie noticed the cards for the first time as they were rifling through the racks for something obscene enough to send one of their colleagues. CI5 birthday cards had, over the years, gained a reputation exceeded only by the material unearthed by the Porn Squad at Scotland Yard. He tried to attract his partner's attention to one particularly promising card when he realised that he had already forgone the ritual rack hunt and gone straight to the shop manager - no doubt to ask to see his private collection.

"Got a real beauty," Doyle whispered once he'd re-emerged from the rear of the shop with a card already sellotaped into a very plain brown envelope.

"I hope it's not too strong," Bodie said, giving his friend a reminder of what had nearly happened at the last birthday celebrations.

"Don't worry - the P.M.'s not going to give us 2 visits so close together is she?"

Walking towards the shop door, Bodie nudged Ray, a shy smile starting to turn the corner of his mouth upwards.

"What?" Doyle looked about himself, then checked his purchase and wallet were snug in his pockets. Bodie nodded towards the cards on display.

"What?" Doyle's blank look grew even blanker. "What's up - you got something in your eye?"

"No!" Bodie hissed, mortified that he now had to explain himself. "Look ... at them."

"At the cards? These cards?"

"Yeah, those cards!"

"What about them - oh no - you don't expect me to fork out to buy you one do you?" Doyle laughed at him.

"You mean that you wouldn't?" Bodie asked, quite unaware of how disappointed he looked.

"Oh ... for christssake," Doyle sighed. "Just as long as you don't go expecting one every year - which one do you want then?" Doyle started leafing through the lurid cards.

"Don't be daft, Ray" Bodie tugged his mate's sleeve. Doyle freed himself easily and continued to sort through the cards

"You want me to send you a Valentine card, Bodie, I'll send you one - but only because this is our first year together -"

"Ray!"

"How about this one? Good lord, get a load of that verse - have you ever read such syrupy rubbish before? And look at this one - this is all just rubbish, mate. There's nothing even halfway decent here." He continued to select and discard the verses and declarations of undying love and affection, reciting aloud a line or two when he found one suitably sickening.

"Ray! Will you please leave them and come on. Now!"

Bodie manhandled his partner out of the shop and back onto the street.

Driving towards home, Doyle brought the subject up again, only this time, he was in a more serious mood, which lead Bodie to believe that he had been rather too obvious with his disappointment.

"Would you really like me to send you a Valentine card?" Doyle asked quietly.

"No... like you said, it's daft - just the card manufacturers filling in the time between Christmas and Easter." Bodie tried to shrug it off.

"You don't need a stupid bit of card to know how much I love you. Do you?" Doyle sounded so ernest that Bodie felt even more of a fool.

"No, of course I don't." But even so, he thought, it was a nice idea.

"Ever had one?"

"Hundreds," Bodie answered cheerfully.

"A proper one... from someone you didn't know felt that way about you?"

"Yes, well... just the odd one or two - how about you?"

"Not from someone really anonymous - usually I could guess who she was."

"Usually?"

"Always." Doyle corrected himself with a smile.

The conversation drifted on to other topics, but Bodie's thoughts remained with the cards. His partner's disdainful response to the idea had been rather off-putting to say the least. They weren'nt normally given to over-romantic notions, neither of them had ever been inclined to attempt to woo the other with hearts and flowers stuff, but to actually commit his feelings onto paper, to send something to the person he loved, telling them how he loved them was something that really appealed to Bodie. Never, ever in his life had he - or would he it looked - put his feelings onto paper.

It was a couple of days before he thought of the cards again. On his own at home with a few hours to kill, he had begun to sort the pile of boxes and bags that had been shoved hastily into the bottom of his own wardrobe when Ray had moved his things into what had once been the spare one.

The twinge of guilt nagged at him as he thought of Ray. Was keeping these cards being disloyal to him? It was only when the second card arrived, exactly one year after the first, that Bodie had begun to wonder who his admirer was. The first card had been sent through the regular mail to his home address and had been, as a true Valentine ought, mysteriously anonymous.

The arrival of the second card had awakened his curiosity. Who, he thought, could have kept their interest in him so closely guarded a secret? The sender had been bolder that second year and had included a short verse of poetry which hinted at the flames being carried in some anonymous breast.

Because of a rather hectic year, plus not one, but two changes of address, and a rather high turnover of girlfriends, the arrival of the third card had been even more of a surprise than the first two. The first one had, regrettably, been thrown away, but he had kept the second and compared it with the third. Checking that they had been penned by the same hand - they had. For weeks and weeks, he had taken extra care to be generous with his smiles and attentions to every female he came into contact with, especially the shy ones - just in case the lady took courage and actually approached him. The third card had confirmed his suspicion that the sender wasn't an old girlfriend, the short verse showing him to be considered loved, adored even, but completely unobtainable. For a while, he even paid extra attention to the married ladies in the office, but still to no avail!

He sighed as he put the cards away, he wouldn't throw them away just yet. Would she send him one this year, he wondered? It could prove awkward if Ray were to find it.

Valentine's Day arrived ... and went. Stuck up on some hill in the middle of the Pennines on an observation detail, the postman didn't even bother to look for them.

They arrived back in London at 3 o'clock in the morning about a week later. Shuffling around the kitchen trying to decide whether to eat, shower, shave and sleep, or sleep, shave, shower and eat, Doyle couldn't help but notice the way his partner attacked the stack of mail waiting for them.

"You expectin' someone to send you some money?" he asked lightly.

Bodie looked up and had the grace to look just a little embarrassed.

"She didn't send me one."

"Eh?"

Bodie placed the letters back down and crossed the small kitchen.

"My secret admirer, she didn't send me one." He kissed his partner's nose, then gently on his lips as he pulled them closer together.

"One what?" Doyle asked once his mouth was free. "Have you been holding out on me?"

"They were really beautiful... still, maybe she's heard about you and me and realized that it couldn't happen," Bodie explained.

"Love," Doyle said patiently, "It's bloody nearly tomorrow, I haven't slept in a bed for two weeks - I haven't slept for three days - you stink, so I know I must - what the hell are you prattling on about?"

"Valentine's cards."

"Bodie -"

"Every year, well, for the past 3 years, some bird's been sending me a Valentine Card. Not your normal run-of-the-mill type card, but some real ... beautiful ones - with real poetry, so, so ... beautiful it brought a lump to my throat."

"Bile?" Doyle suggested.

"No!" protested Bodie. "They're really special - I always thought it a shame 'cos I didn't know who she was - but whoever she was, she really seemed to like... well," he shrugged defensively. "It was very flattering... knowing that someone out there thought that I was God's Gift, but..."

"But?"

"But, I'm pleased she's not sent me one this year. I only hope she's found someone else - because I've got all that I want right here." Bodie looked into his partner's eyes, still a little afraid that he would mock the tender memory, but there was no trace of anything except love and soemthing just as strong, only more urgent.

Breakfast was a lazy midday affair. Feeling indulgent, Ray loaded the tray up and carried the whole lot up to the bedroom. His eyes focussing on the mountain of food, and his nose twitching at the mouthwatering smells, Bodie was already pumping the pillows up and reaching out his hand for his breakfast. The flat envelope was not what he was expecting, and he woke up properly.

Sitting perched on the end of the bed, Doyle watched as Bodie opened the envelope, his hands shaking slightly as he traced the design, similar but not quite identical to last year's, then opening the card to read the verse.

It seemed as if an age passed before Bodie raised his head and stared, speechless, at his partner.

"Decided to economise this year," Doyle said huskily. "Thought I'd save myself the postage... so I've gone into the personal delivery service..."

-- THE END --

February 1986