Meet Me at the Pier Head (18 page)

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 money 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 looked 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.

‘I love her, Miss Garner. We do painting, counting, reading and jigsaws,’ Rosie said, ‘and I play with a great big dolls’ house. It has lights in it, real lights that can
be switched on and off.’

‘Good.’ Emily continued to stare at Theo. ‘Mrs Stone is doing well, you’ll be pleased to hear. Anaemia. She’ll probably need to take iron tablets, that’s
all.’

‘That’s great news,’ Theo said, not troubling to remind her that he’d visited Rosie’s grandmother in the hospital. He turned to Rosie. ‘Your
grandmother’s not as tired as she was, child, and she’ll be back with us soon. See if you can find Tyger, but don’t dirty your new clothes.’

The little girl abandoned him to the tender mercies of a female predator whose find-a-husband antennae had probably been on red alert for over a decade. She was not his type, but he was
definitely hers. It was time to speak. ‘Miss Bellamy and a doctor friend of hers are taking Rosie to Alder Hey tomorrow. She shows signs of non-accidental injuries. When will Maggie Stone be
home?’

‘A couple of days, Theo. She’s happy for you and Miss Bellamy to keep her granddaughter until then, and I’ve cleared it with the powers.’

‘Thank you, Emily. Would you like to visit Miss Bellamy?’

‘I’ll take your word for her, because Mrs Stone will be out of hospital very soon. The woman upstairs is good with Rosie, I take it?’

He nodded. ‘She’s turned her apartment into an activity centre. A very homely type, she is. I’ll vouch for her. In fact, Miss Bellamy will be in charge for a couple of hours
today, as I am lunching with my cousins.’ With this untruth, he prevented the issue of an invitation to lunch with Emily Garner.

She cleared her throat. ‘We might have a drink one weekend, or even a meal, perhaps?’

‘Yes, that would be nice,’ he replied. ‘And you’ll be at the end-of-year party.’ He stood. ‘I must rescue Rosie’s clothes from my kitten’s
talons.’

Emily rose gracefully to her feet. ‘Of course. I’ll be in touch.’

Relief flooded his veins as she walked out of the room.

She turned just once to offer him a brilliant smile.

Theo followed her to the outer door, leaning on its solid surface once the woman had left. ‘Being so handsome is a difficult occupation,’ he muttered. Opening his eyes, he saw Rosie
walking towards him.

‘Your cat is mad,’ she complained.

‘Really?’

She nodded, her face solemn. ‘Going round and round in circles.’

‘Is he, now?’

‘Yes. Why does he do that?’

‘He’s trying to work out which is his front end and which is his behind.’

The child shook her head. ‘Why do grown-ups do that?’

‘Do what?’

‘Give daft answers to children. We aren’t stupid, you see. He knows where his mouth is, cos he eats with it, but he’s still working out why he has a tail. He thinks it’s
another animal following him, so he bites it, then howls cos he’s hurt himself. Mad.’

‘Sorry. Would you like some lemonade? Don’t drip it on your clothes, or we’ll have to apologize to Miss Bellamy.’ He walked to the kitchen.
Oh, she’s gonna kill
me. Try to look plain, I told her. I bet she’s up there now in wrinkled lisle stockings, curlers and a headscarf done up like a turban.
He went outside and sat in his deckchair for half
an hour, one eye on a she-must-stay-clean Rosie, the other on a clinically insane kitten.
And now my blessed phone’s ringing, and that policeman will be here later this afternoon. Will I
live till this afternoon? Bugger, as Tia would say . . .