Meet Me at the Pier Head (26 page)

Maggie wasn’t comfortable. ‘It’s like sitting on the floor,’ she complained.

Theo grinned. ‘You’re in a sports car. Saturday morning, you’ll be in an ambulance.’

She turned her head and glared at him. ‘I bloody won’t. No more ozzie for me; I had enough of lying in bed for one day like wet fish on a slab.’

‘It’s been converted,’ he began to explain.

‘A Catholic ambulance? I’m Methodist.’

He laughed. ‘Don’t get cute with me, Maggie. It will seat eight, driver included, so we can take Nancy and Tom if they want to come.’ He paused. ‘But you must all keep
quiet about it, or say you’re going to Blackpool for a few days.’

‘You what?’

He parked outside the Athertons’ house. ‘This may sound cold and calculating, and I don’t want to upset you, but if Sadie wakes soon, she may want Rosie back. If your daughter
returns to her old ways, new pimp included, we need to keep the little one safe. Dr Heilberg is giving us a letter to take to his dad, who is Tia’s family doctor. As a temporary resident,
Rosie can be looked at, examined for old injuries. We get the evidence and take Sadie to court.’

Maggie’s face blanched.

‘It has to be considered,’ he added seriously.

‘Are you talking about kidnap, Teddy?’

He inhaled deeply, puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly through his mouth. ‘In effect, yes, I suppose I am. It would be short term, hopefully, just until we get the evidence we
need.’

‘Then what?’

‘Then you are awarded custody.’

She swallowed audibly. ‘I’ve got this anaemia thing, Ted. And one of my arms has been broke twice and healed up wrong, cos I didn’t know it had broke. They think I’m
weak-boned.’

He processed her reply. ‘OK, we get her fostered near the Lady Streets until . . .’

‘Until what?’

I must be mad, because I’m thinking until Tia and I are . . . are married, then we’ll try to adopt her . . .
‘Until we work something out. Be aware that both Tia and I
could lose our jobs, but we feel so strongly about Rosie that we are prepared to be prosecuted as accessories. That child will not spend another day in the company of a pimp.’

‘God.’ Maggie put her hands over her face.

‘Don’t cry,’ Theo said softly.

‘Perhaps we’d better not take Tom and Nancy.’

‘Don’t you trust them to keep quiet?’

‘Course I trust them.’

‘Well, then . . .’

He was the sort of man few people looked at twice, because he was part of the scenery, a sight as familiar to most as were the birds perched on top of the Liver Building. The
tools he’d needed to bring about the death of Miles Tunstall were now smashed to pieces and drowned beneath the greyish depths of the River Mersey. Lads from the Grenadier pub had seen to
that, and little Rosie Tunstall was safe for a while. She wasn’t Tunstall, he reminded himself; she was Rosie Stone.

He sat in sunshine, his face raised to enjoy the warmth exuded by Earth’s mother star. A man without legs needed to stay warm, as he couldn’t walk about to keep the blood flowing. A
man without legs owned very strong arms and a well-muscled upper body, since self-propulsion depended on the torso. He could still hear the snap of bone in Tunstall’s neck but, as an old
soldier, he had become inured to killing during the Great War.

So Tunstall was dead, but the music went on. Harry took the mouth organ from his shirt pocket and began to play ‘Molly Malone’. Perhaps little Rosie would come today . . .

Theo always took assembly on Monday mornings. Other teachers were on a rota system, so their pupils were trained to take their turn to pick a theme, read, sing and perform in
front of the whole school. But on the first working day of every week, Mr Quinn, commonly known as Blackbird, took the stage. He placed his notes on the lectern, flapped his ‘wings’ and
cleared his throat. This was one of his favourite times, because he got to teach, to make them think, to make them laugh.

The children from Standard Three seemed rather giggly and agitated, so he raised a hand and waited for the excitement to dissipate. Colin Duckworth, a pupil in the class, was usually at the
centre of any giggling or agitation, but a hard stare from Blackbird did its usual trick, and things seemed to grow calmer after a few seconds had passed. The chattering was reduced to whispering,
and the whispering stopped when Blackbird’s expression grew more stern.

He looked at the whole school, over three hundred faces, some clean, some not-so-clean, most of them alert, a few pale and possibly hungry, an Alsatian dog, Colin Duckworth . . . a dog? After
doing a double take, he glared at Colin and his large, furry companion. As he did, he noticed that Miss Cosgrove was gazing adoringly at him yet again.

Damn it, Friday night’s end-of-year party promised to be interesting, Emily Garner, Miss Cosgrove and Tia Bellamy, the probable love of his life; oh, what a mess. Being so irresistibly
handsome was such a burden . . . Who was he kidding? ‘Miss Cosgrove,’ he said, ‘could you explain to me why a German Shepherd is among your flock? Are we going to need the dog to
keep order among the ranks?’

She simpered. Simpering didn’t suit her long, thin, freckled face. ‘Mr Martindale died,’ she explained. ‘The dog was howling, and Colin rescued her. We’re looking
for a new owner. Colin brought her in to see if anyone wanted her. He didn’t know what else to do.’ She blushed, the colour of facial skin suddenly clashing loudly with her tight-curled
ginger hair. Taking a handkerchief from the sleeve of her blouse, Miss Cosgrove mopped her fevered brow. ‘Sorry, Mr Quinn, but I hadn’t the heart to throw the poor dog out.’

Theo opened and closed his mouth twice. Occasionally, words failed him.

Colin rose to his feet. His hair, similar in colour to the peel of a slightly decayed orange, had taken another walk on the wild side. The crowning glory stuck up on top of his head like a
semi-halo, though the sides were flatter, darker, and showed signs of having been treated with hair cream. ‘Sir, it’s a shame, Sir. It’s not Miracle’s fault, Sir, but Mr
Martindale died and Miracle’s got nobody, Sir.’

Sir glowered. ‘Is this the right place to find a new adoptive owner, Colin? The dog does not belong in a school. Come here.’

Colin, plus dog with a rope tied to her collar, arrived at the front of the school hall. Children fidgeted and whispered while the unusual scene arranged itself. Dog and Colin looked as
miserable as mortal sin, heads drooping, hair messy, silent as the grave. Theo squatted down and stroked the dog’s head.

‘She’s called Miracle, Sir. She rescued a lad from the river when she was only one year old. I think she’s about six now, and she’s all on her own since Mr Martindale
died. She hasn’t got nobody nowhere, Mr Quinn.’

‘Miracle, eh?’

‘Yes, Sir. She’s a miracle cos all her brothers and sisters was drownded, and she’s the only one what stayed alive. And she must have remembered nearly getting drownded, and
that’ll be why she saved the boy. When he first got Miracle, Mr Martindale never slept proper for weeks, cos he had to feed her all the time, little drops of milk and stuff. Now she
hasn’t got nobody, and she’s lonely. She wants somewhere to live, Sir.’

Theo ran a hand through his own hair. ‘Go back to your classes, children,’ he ordered. ‘Assembly’s cancelled for today. Colin and Miracle, my office – now.’
Theo turned right and opened the door.

He strode down the corridor, black gown billowing behind him, one sad child and one sad dog following in his wake. He was good with animals. He could make peace between Tyger and Miracle, but
did he have the time to train a cat and a dog to be civilized? Isadora Bellamy plus one more female would arrive this evening, then Delia would fetch the rest of their stuff as soon as she got use
of the van, probably tomorrow. He was trying to keep Rosie and Maggie calm and happy, was busy falling in love with an annoying woman who allowed messing about, was going to Kent on Saturday with
aforementioned-in-thought exasperating female. And now, a dog had added herself to the ingredients. She was a beautiful animal with soulful eyes and a depressed tail, no lift in it, no life, not a
hint of a wag.

An idea struck as he sat at his desk staring at one upset lad and one grieving canine. ‘How old was Mr Martindale, Colin?’

‘About eighty. I used to walk Miracle for him, Sir. We can’t have her, because Mam coughs near animals; she’s adjerlic to them.’

‘Allergic.’

‘That’s what I said.’

Theo sighed. ‘Stay here. If the phone rings, don’t answer it.’ He dashed off, leaving Colin with the bereaved animal.

After knocking on the Athertons’ door, Theo opened it wide enough to poke his head into the room. ‘Tom, Nancy? Hi, Maggie. May I take up a few minutes of your time,
people?’ He entered the house and explained about the dog and how she was used to living with a mature person. ‘If you’ll give her a home, I’ll buy her food and Colin
Duckworth will walk her for you. And if you can’t manage her, I’ll find an alternative home for her, I promise.’

Maggie stood up. ‘Oi, Mr Headmaster,’ she said, ‘we’re going on holiday on Saturday, aren’t we? What happens to the dog then?’

Theo shrugged. ‘She gets a long ride in an ambulance. It’ll take her mind off her loss. She can run round in Kent for a change, chase a few rabbits and ducks.’

Nancy and Tom stared at each other in silence. The only clue that they were taking notice lay in the fact that Nancy had actually stopped knitting and Tom had ceased to suck on his empty pipe.
They both blinked a few times, but said nothing.

Maggie shook her head and sat down again. ‘Does the dog have to keep quiet about Kent in case our Sadie comes round, goes back to her old ways, and tries to get hold of Rosie? This bloody
plot thickens by the minute. Don’t say where you’ve been or who you’ve been with, kidnap your granddaughter in case your suicidal, alcoholic, whoring daughter wants her back, tell
Nancy and Tom to say nothing, and look after a great big dog. It’s a grand life. I’m supposed to be having a rest, you know.’

Theo stood in front of the empty grate. ‘Look, I’ve a school to run, and I’ve left a young boy in my office with a very sad German Shepherd bitch. Colin Duckworth could start a
war in a garden shed, so will you let Tom and Nancy speak for themselves, Maggie, then I can get back to my job?’

Tom opened his mouth at last. ‘We could give it a try,’ he said.

Nancy was her predictable self. ‘You’re right, love. We could give it a try.’

‘Thank you,’ Theo said, heaving a sigh of relief. ‘I’d better get back and see if Colin’s managed not to destroy my school.’ He left in a hurry.

‘Do you like dogs?’ Maggie asked the bemused couple.

‘No idea,’ Tom replied.

‘That’s right,’ his echo chimed, ‘because we’ve never had one. We never had kids, neither, but we like them.’

Maggie blinked. Coming from Nancy, that sentence equalled a full paragraph. ‘What if it bites?’ she asked.

Tom sniffed back some emotion. ‘Sammy Martindale was a good lad. Older than me, he was. At school, he stopped Chuffy Briggs kicking the shi— the life out of me. He was a bully,
Chuffy Briggs. Collected train numbers; that’s why we called him Chuffy. Well, Scruffy Chuffy, because his neck was always as black as the fire back. Me mam always said she could have grown
spuds on Scruffy Chuffy’s neck. Sammy Martindale stuck up for me, because he was on the side of bullied kids, so I can pay him back now by looking after his dog.’

‘That’s right, love.’ Nancy picked up her knitting. ‘This green’s hard on my old eyes.’

Rosie and Tia happened upon Dr Simon Heilberg in Freeman, Hardy and Willis; he was over on the men’s side paying for a pair of shoes. With his transaction complete, he
joined Tia in Ladies and Children. He sat next to Rosie, who was wearing brand new black shoes with ankle straps, but her gaze was fixed on the same shoes in red. They were in the window, and she
couldn’t take her eyes off them for a second.

‘Can we try them in red?’ Simon asked. It was clear to him that the child was head over heels with the scarlet footwear.

Tia stared at him. ‘Black goes with everything,’ she advised him.

‘She can have both, can’t she? Why are you looking at me like that? Have I committed a criminal offence?’

Tia dragged her gaze away from the ceiling. ‘Have you any idea of how quickly a child’s feet grow? They get new shoes not because the old are worn out, but because feet grow like
weeds at her age.’

‘Yes, I’m a doctor, so I know all about growth rates, thank you.’ He asked the assistant to bring a pair of red ankle-straps. ‘She deserves them,’ he muttered at
Tia. Smiling at the child, he said he had an idea. ‘Set a trend, Rosie. Wear a right red one and a left black one, then a right black one and a left red one.’

‘That’s daft,’ Rosie told him. She seldom accepted silliness from adults.

‘Listen to the child,’ Tia suggested. ‘She’s wise for her age.’

‘I’ve already got wellies and sandals and gym shoes,’ said Rosie, pointing to a bag.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Wellies are good; they let you jump in puddles.’

‘Miss Bellamy’s spent loads of money.’

‘No more than you deserve.’ He stroked the child’s head. ‘I shall buy the red shoes. There’s a film called
The Red Shoes
and a fairy tale with the same
title. Red shoes are for dancing.’

Rosie studied him. ‘Is that true, or is it something grown-ups say to kids, like “Be good or a bogeyman will come and get you”?’

Simon’s face almost split in two, so wide was his grin. ‘You are a bright little one, aren’t you?’

‘She has the measure of most,’ Tia said. ‘Will you do us a favour, Simon?’

He nodded. ‘If at all possible.’

Rosie realized that this man liked Miss Bellamy; so did Mr Quinn.

The assistant arrived and fitted the shiny red patent leather shoes to Rosie’s feet. ‘Can I keep them on?’ the child begged. ‘Please, please let me wear them. I
won’t scrape my toes, I promise.’

‘Walk up and down the carpet, love,’ suggested the saleswoman.

Rosie did as asked. ‘They fit,’ she pronounced. ‘Please let me keep them on. Please, please,’ she implored again.