Meet Me at the Pier Head

by Ruth Hamilton

  He frowned. ‘But you didn’t want people to know who your parents are.’

  ‘In your opinion, is that more important than Rosie’s safety?’

  ‘No,’ he replied without hesitation.

  ‘And I have little or nothing to lose, Teddy.’

  ‘You could lose your job.’ And I could lose you.

  ‘I am very good at acting innocent and stupid. I’m very good at acting, full stop. And my mother could charm the underwear off a monk. If we’re discovered, she’ll fix it. Pa is, of course, the fly in the ointment, but I can swat him.’

  ‘And you’d do all this for Rosie?’

  Tia smiled. ‘And for you.’

  He gasped audibly.

  ‘Worry not,’ she said, placing a hand on his cheek. ‘There’s something going on, neither of us is ready for it, and we’re both terrified of it, so we slow down.’

  His heart leapt about like a caged bird, and he knew the fear was showing in his eyes. This girl was far too clever for her own good. And too clever for him, of course. ‘Sometimes I think you’re older than I am, Tia.’

  ‘My mother has said that for years, and she’s even older than you are.’

  He grinned broadly. ‘Then she must be truly ancient.’

  Tia agreed. ‘Decrepit, yet still beautiful. Do remember, the world is putty in her hands. For years she carried my father, whose acting skills are nothing unless she’s there to guide him.’

  A thought occurred to Theo. ‘What if she’s on her way here?’

  She raised her shoulders. ‘She has her own telephone line. I’ll call her tomorrow. If she’s on the brink of leaving, all the better for us, because she can look after Rosie in my flat. I can’t imagine my mother letting anything or anyone go without a fight. And Ma isn’t fair when it comes to the protection of her girls. She’ll stop at nothing to get her way.’

  It struck Theo that while Tia might have inherited her father’s lack of patience, she had also gained her mother’s backbone, staying power and acting ability. ‘We’re in this mess together,’ he said. ‘While I’d hate to lose my job, I can exist on my writing.’

  ‘And I should manage well on theatre and film work, so we are equal on that score.’

  He turned sideways and studied her. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I don’t know how I know, but I know. And I know that you know that I don’t want to lose you.’ She frowned. ‘Can we go back to just suppose? It was so much easier than I knowing.’

  The doorbell sounded. ‘You get it, Teddy. I’ll go and make sure that Rosie’s settled.’ She left the room without giving him time to respond.

  Theo descended the staircase. He hoped it wasn’t a policeman or Emily Garner or someone else from Welfare, but he opened the door to find Dr Simon Heilberg on the doorstep. ‘Is she in?’ the visitor asked.

  ‘Yes, she’s caring for a child. Is there a problem?’

  For the first time, Simon grinned at Theo. ‘I think we share a problem, Mr Quinn. The hospital where Maggie Stone is a patient has let the police know that Rosie is here with Tia. I may need a tetanus injection, because Sadie Tunstall, mother of that child, bit me. Twice. The practice I’m with is attached periodically to Ivy Lane police station. She attacked two policemen, me, and a woman who was reporting a missing dog. Sergeant Nixon had to go for stitches. She was very, very drunk. And Tia has the child?’

  ‘Yes, but the grandmother has custody, and she’s in hospital, as you know.’

  ‘A bit of a mess, then, Mr Quinn?’

  Theo nodded. ‘Go up. I’ve given Tia Rosie’s clothes, so I can leave now.’

  ‘Just a moment.’ Simon placed a hand on Theo’s arm. ‘I want that child in outpatients at Alder Hey on Monday morning. Tia and I will take her and let the experts loose. I’m aware that there’s probably been neglect and psychological damage, but we need to look for injuries.’

  Theo nodded. ‘Good thinking, Doc. Thank you.’

  ‘I promise you, Tia and Rosie that I’ll do my best to get the little girl away from her mother. Some people are not fit to have kids.’ He offered his hand and Theo shook it, then the doctor sped upstairs.

  Tia was seated on the sofa. She looked tired, tense and beautiful. ‘Hi,’ she said.

  He rolled up a sleeve to display a bandage. ‘Sadie Tunstall bit me. I was called in to Ivy Lane, and she attacked several people. She’ll be charged. Monday, you and I will take Rosie for a full examination at the children’s hospital. She needs a proper, decent family to adopt her.’

  Tia nodded. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said.

  ‘Do you want company?’

  She glowered. ‘Not with a child in the flat, no.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he murmured.

  Tia rose to her feet. ‘Anyway, that’s all over between us.’

  ‘Have you fallen in love with the little girl? If you want to adopt, you must marry.’

  ‘Then I’ll marry.’

  ‘Really? Who?’

  ‘I have absolutely no bloody idea. Thanks for coming to see me, and please support my intention to keep Rosie here till her grandmother recovers.’ She walked to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. ‘Some day, your princess will come, Simon.’

  Crestfallen once more, he left. She was his princess, but she didn’t want him. And they all lived happy ever after? ‘Not me,’ he mumbled, ‘never me.’

  Seven

  Sunday was quite an adventure for Rosie. She was so excited that she started nibbling at her nails, and she’d already had the gentle, no-nail-biting lecture from her new teacher just yesterday. If she wanted to be a pretty young lady, she needed clean hair, unbitten nails and a spotless neck. Clothes were just the outer wrapping, and they didn’t cover these important details. ‘Shoulders back, and head up, Rosie. Not too far up, or you’ll fall over something and give onlookers a free laugh. Oh, and always carry a handkerchief – I have some pretty ones somewhere. Just remember, you’re as good as, if not better than other people. Walk tall.’

  Miss Bellamy had decided to make her charge a whole new outfit of clothes. She took a dress of her own, measured Rosie, and made a pattern from brown wrapping paper before cutting out and tacking together a skirt followed by a lovely, grown-up style jacket. The little girl had to stand on a chair and stay still after her teacher warned her, ‘I am lethal with pins, or so my sisters tell me. We all had to learn to sew when we were not much older than you are. Ma taught us to help with her costumes – she’s an actress. Now, we take this off carefully, so that I can use my Singer to stitch it all together properly. Be brave, and try not to scratch yourself on pins. We don’t want you to be full of holes, do we?’

  Rosie was completely enthralled by the process and enchanted by Miss Bellamy; sewing was like magic, far cleverer than Mrs Atherton and her knitting. In a very short time, the sewing machine had flown over every seam and dart, and the resulting rose-coloured suit was amazing. ‘Oh, thank you, Miss Bellamy. I never had nothing like this before. Dark pink. I like dark pink and light pink. I like red, too.’

  But Tia hadn’t finished the job. From a white nightdress scattered with roses, she produced a sleeveless blouse and a pretty hair band. ‘Will you trust me to cut your hair? You seem to have more than your fair share of it.’

  Rosie was pleased by the idea. ‘It gets knotted up. Sometimes I can’t get a comb through it. It’s cos it’s curly.’

  Tia fetched the scissors. ‘I noticed some marks when you were in the bath yesterday. How did they happen?’ She kept her tone as casual as she could manage. Seeing so many bruises on such a small body had been disturbing.

  ‘He did them. But I’m susposed to say I fell downstairs or tripped up in the street. But really, it was him.’

  ‘Mr Tunstall?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did your mother try to stop him?’

  ‘When she had no gin, yes, but he hit her, too. She couldn’t get mo
ney off the jumping up and down men if she had marks, so he got really mad then. I can tell about him now, cos he’s dead. Nana said nobody dead can hurt us.’

  Tia swallowed. She felt sick and angry and extremely sad. Teddy was visiting Maggie in hospital, as were neighbours. As far as Rosie was concerned, Nana had been sent to bed in her own house and was being cared for twice a day by a nurse with a bike. Nana must not be disturbed except by the nurse with a bike. Meanwhile, police patrolled the streets, knocking on doors and talking to anyone over the age of reason and young enough to remain rational.

  ‘Miss Bellamy?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Why are some people nice like you and Mr Quinn and Mr and Mrs Atherton, and Martha and Harry, and some people not nice? What makes some of them to go nasty?’

  Tia closed her eyes for an instant and swallowed. This was an infant who knew too much, too soon. ‘Only God knows the answer to that one, Rosie. We’re all made differently.’ I will not cry. Pull yourself together, Bellamy. Think of Shakespeare’s Portia and show some bloody dignity. ‘You’re a good person, Rosie, so add yourself to the list.’

  A Constable Piggot was coming to see Rosie later today. So far, because of her youth, she had not been questioned, but the time had come, and Tia wanted her Rosie – yes, her Rosie – to look perfect. She cut the hair in layers, as it was too thick to manage en masse, before bathing the child, washing her hair and applying a conditioner to wilful curls.

  Rosie stood in front of Miss Bellamy’s cheval mirror, her mouth shaped in a perfect O. A beautiful girl, also with her mouth in an O shape, looked back at her. ‘Miss Bellamy?’ said both girls, one in the mirror, the other real.

  ‘Yes, dear?’

  ‘Thank you. Is Nana going to wake up soon?’

  Tia squatted down and smoothed the child’s hair. ‘She’ll be back, dear. You look wonderful. Run down and knock on Mr Quinn’s door. He won’t recognize you until he looks properly at your face. You are quite the prettiest child I ever saw. I did my best with your shoes, but we’ll get new ones tomorrow or on Tuesday. You and I might have a day in town, do our shopping, then have a meal.’

  ‘Pink shoes?’

  ‘Sorry, but no. Sandals for everyday wear, black patent ankle-straps for best, a pair of gym shoes to play in, and a pair of wellies for when there’s rain.’

  ‘That’s a lot of shoes, Miss Bellamy.’

  ‘It is indeed. And when I was a little girl, I had two sisters, and we all had the wellies, the Sunday best, the play shoes and the sandals. But we’ll get you some pink hair slides, pink beads and a pink bag and gloves if we can find them.’

  When Rosie had run off to strut about in front of her headmaster, Tia sat on the floor among debris. Paper pattern pieces, bits of fabric, some scraps bigger than others, Rosie’s dark, cut-off curls, a colouring book, two reading books, crayons, plasticine and paints all cluttered the living room. It was a living room now, because it looked alive, vibrant and colourful. And it hit Tia in that moment: she wanted to keep Rosie for ever.

  Take your time, O stupid one. Simon is right, you’d need to be married. The only person you could marry quickly is Simon, and you don’t want him, so that would make an unhappy home. Anyway, it will take a while to get the poor child away from Sadie in the legal sense, and Rosie has a lovely grandmother who’s still in her forties. Yes, you’d adopt Maggie, too, wouldn’t you? Your silliness knows no bounds, Portia Bellamy.

  Face it squarely, idiot. You want to pledge your troth, for what it’s worth, to the man downstairs, a chap you scarcely know, a fellow with a handsome face, kind eyes, and a back that looks like a relief map of a volcanic region where earthquakes and eruptions rule. He has problems. He has girlfriends. He probably has your foolish heart, too. He may not want you; not every man is as susceptible as Simon Heilberg when it comes to you and your charms.

  The door opened and Rosie bounded in. He was with her, of course. Was little Rosie playing matchmaker?

  ‘Miss Bellamy,’ he said solemnly, ‘who is this gorgeous young woman you sent to my door? Something about her seems familiar, though I can’t quite put my finger on her identity. Is she selling household goods or encyclopedias, perhaps? Or might she be from the RSPCA, sent to see if I’m caring properly for Tyger?’

  Rosie skipped round him. ‘Mr Quinn, Mr Quinn, it’s me – Rosie.’

  ‘There was a Rosie yesterday, but she had untidy hair and she didn’t skip and didn’t say much. I can’t shut this one up. We’ve had money tables, two-times and three-times tables, a lecture on the Viking invasion of the Mersey—’

  ‘I read that in the Picton Library,’ Rosie announced proudly.

  ‘She read that in the Picton Library,’ he repeated, his face expressionless. ‘Go and look at yourself in a long mirror, child. Make sure you know who you are, because I need convincing.’ He winked at Tia.

  ‘I saw that,’ Rosie said, hands on hips.

  ‘She looks good,’ he said when Rosie had left.

  ‘She looks happy for now,’ was Tia’s reply. ‘Let’s hope it lasts.’

  When the little girl was completely out of earshot, Theo grabbed Tia’s hands. ‘Emily Garner’s on her way – welfare woman. I’ll see her downstairs, but she may want to talk to you. Any chance you can make yourself look plain?’

  Tia cocked her head to one side. ‘Whose daughter am I? And may I ask why I must look plain?’

  He grinned. ‘Emily wants my body, so I took a drink or three and almost made love to her over the phone in order to make sure we keep the little one until Maggie gets out of hospital. I’ll tell Rosie you’re playing the same joke as she did by making yourself unrecognizable.’

  ‘Is this in my job description, Mr Quinn? Or are you adding a codicil?’

  ‘Indeed. I added a couple of clauses, actually.’

  ‘Bugger. Sounds like the Treaty of Versailles.’

  Seconds ticked by while he hung on to her hands. For the first time, they gazed into each other’s eyes like a pair of lovelorn loons. ‘Portia,’ he whispered. ‘Beautiful name, beautiful woman. What the hell is happening here?’

  Tia inhaled sharply.

  He grinned at her. ‘Well?’

  ‘Theodore,’ was her eventual reply. She gave him the sexiest of her collection of smiles. It involved mobile eyelashes, brilliant teeth and a gentle exhalation of breath. ‘Stop it,’ she murmured. ‘Stop, because I like it.’

  ‘I wish I could stop. And I wish you’d keep that smile to yourself, because you light up the room, and you know it. Now, go and get scruffy while I pay court to Emily Garner. She’s not my kind of woman, but I think she’s a man-eater dressed in Marks and Spencer clothing.’

  ‘Is she pretty?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Prettier than I am?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Give me ten minutes and she’ll look like Greta Garbo and I’ll be one of the ugly sisters.’

  ‘OK.’ He released her hands. ‘Rosie?’ he called. ‘Or whatever your name is? Come along, because we have to meet a pretty lady, then you may come back up here for lunch if you wish.’ He looked again at Tia. ‘I can’t wait to see you looking wrecked.’

  ‘Oh, go away, Teddy.’

  ‘I’m going, I’m going.’

  She grinned like a teenager this time. ‘I shan’t go over the top.’ She would, of course. Rosie arrived. ‘Go on, the pair of you – shoo. I have tidying to do, and I must put my face on.’ She blushed when he winked at her again before leaving with Rosie. ‘Damn it, I don’t blush any more, do I?’ she mouthed to herself as the door closed behind them.

  Alone at last, Tia raided her makeup box. She applied a full green mask, covered it with a mixture of greasepaint numbers five and nine, drew pale pink lines around her eyelids and slightly dark smudges under each eye. After combing through some hair-grey, she fastened abundant and deliberately greased locks into a net perched on top of her head. Circular spectacles with clear glass completed the picture. She loo
ked fortyish, not very well and decidedly unattractive. ‘He’d better warn Rosie,’ she muttered. ‘God, I look like something that fell off a dustcart.’

  Clothes. She found a washed-out blue blouse that had seen better days, probably in the latter part of the nineteenth century, a grey skirt and some black slippers. In the cheval which had so recently reflected a pretty child, there now appeared a woman of indeterminate age. The green mask, her first application, had been used by her father, who became flushed and overheated on stage. Although covered by more conventional tones, it lent a pallor to Tia’s skin, and she now added the final touch, which she knew would amuse Teddy. Collingford’s Toothbrown, applied by most who played the witches on the heath, had been used quite recently by the Bellamy sisters in the Scottish play for Chaddington Green’s amateur dramatic group. Toothbrown resisted saliva and took half a tin of tooth powder to remove, but she couldn’t resist. She looked absolutely ghastly.

  Downstairs, Theo was preparing Rosie. ‘Miss Bellamy is going to dress up in something weird. It’s because I pretended not to recognize you, but we’ll turn the joke on her by treating her as if she always looks terrible. Can you manage that?’

  Rosie nodded.

  ‘No laughing?’ he asked.

  ‘No laughing,’ she agreed, her eyes dancing.

  ‘No acting surprised?’

  ‘I won’t act surprised.’

  ‘Good girl. Here comes the welfare lady. I call her Emily, but you must call her Miss Garner. Be polite and happy. OK?’

  Emily Garner arrived armed and dangerous. Wearing a short-sleeved blue dress, she had applied her war paint and tottered on high heels that made her legs look great. ‘Emily,’ he gushed. ‘Isn’t Rosie pretty in her new suit? Miss Bellamy made it for her.’

  She cast an eye over the child, nodded and said, ‘Very nice indeed.’

  Theo winked at Rosie, who smiled prettily. ‘Miss Garner,’ she said. ‘Thank you for coming to see me.’

  The invader sat on the sofa’s edge, scarcely glancing further at the child she was supposed to be visiting. ‘Lovely. Do you like Miss Bellamy, Rosie?’ He looked wonderful in a short-sleeved shirt and moleskin trousers.