Meet Me at the Pier Head

by Ruth Hamilton

  ‘I don’t like murder,’ he muttered, his voice almost a whisper.

  ‘It happens,’ she advised him. ‘You need only read a daily newspaper to find that someone or other has been removed.’

  He fixed his gaze on her for several seconds while deciding what to say, how much to tell her. ‘I know.’ He paused for thought. ‘My mother was murdered,’ he said, his voice still soft.

  Tia sat down suddenly. His mother? Oh God, no wonder he looks sad occasionally. If anything of that kind happened to Ma, I’d be permanently crazy. ‘I am so sorry,’ she told him. ‘When? How old were you when it happened?’

  ‘I was ten – young enough to need a mom, old enough to want vengeance. My teenage years were difficult.’

  She managed to close her gaping mouth. ‘I’m not surprised. Hell’s bells, Teddy, how did you hold yourself together?’

  ‘I didn’t. That’s one of the reasons why I like to see schoolchildren happy. A miserable child might never reach his full potential.’

  For Tia, this explained so much. He went from happy to sad within an hour, from gregarious to isolated, from humorous to pensive – no bloody wonder. She swallowed, though the lump in her throat was in no way connected to food. ‘Who killed her?’ she asked in a whisper.

  ‘Cowards. They wore masks; they were never caught, although two were shot dead at the scene.’

  ‘When? Where?’ The fact that he looked tired and hurt and troubled was no longer surprising. She placed a hand over his. ‘Sorry. I don’t need to know the details.’

  He nodded, retrieved his hand and began to eat. ‘Tastes good,’ he said. ‘Different, but good.’

  He had changed the subject, and he had to be allowed that prerogative. ‘I can’t seem to obey recipes,’ she said, determined to concentrate on mundane matters. ‘Unless I get my hands on a grater or a garlic press and put my own touch to the mix, I feel I haven’t been creative. Not all my cooking is well received, so don’t feel obliged to clear your plate just to be polite.’ She paused. ‘Teddy?’

  He looked at her again. ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s not your fault. The neighbours turned on him, and you saw the little girl for yourself and became distressed, or so I was told. Did you hire someone to kill him? No. Did you want him dead? No, you wanted him locked up.’

  He put down his knife and fork. ‘I’m not sure that Rosie and her grandmother will be safe. It’s possible that Tunstall had cohorts and family who may seek revenge.’

  ‘Then they’re looking for a tall man with a dark beard.’

  ‘And if they think that Sadie or Maggie hired that man?’

  ‘Stop it, Teddy.’

  He glared at her, though he was smiling internally. ‘You can’t follow recipes, don’t obey rules – God alone knows what you’ll do with my curriculum. What is it with you, Portia? Are you naturally non-conformist and argumentative, or have you worked at it?’

  For several seconds, she pretended to process his question. ‘Got a distinction in both subjects. Eat your dinner.’

  For a reason he couldn’t be bothered to question, he did as he’d been told. Was this cook a woman who must never be gainsaid?

  ‘How’s Tyger?’ she asked.

  Theo swallowed. ‘Terrible. I’m thinking of changing his name to Ivan. He eats socks and waste-paper baskets. Oh, and he tries to climb drapes. I found him hanging by a thread and screaming like a human baby in the dining room. I’m going to replace the drapes – I mean curtains – with shutters.’

  ‘Like the ones you wear?’ As soon as the words were out, she wished she could bite them back. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  He gave her a forgiving smile. ‘No, you’re not. You speak your mind instead of pussyfooting around like so many people and my darned cat. Though he’s lovely when asleep with the bear you gave him.’ He paused. ‘Now you know why I am as I am, but you must tell nobody. At school, I manage to remain on an even keel, but that’s my role, you see.’

  Tia agreed about non-disclosure. ‘Both our mothers have to remain out of the public domain. As for your role, I understand. Teachers are actors.’

  ‘True. When do you expect your mother?’ he asked. ‘I can’t wait to meet her.’

  ‘No idea. When the divorce papers are about to be served, I expect. But my little sister Juliet is still at home occasionally, so Ma must make sure she’s all right. Pa will be a nightmare once his philandering is broadcast. And yes, you’ll love my mother. Everyone loves her – except for Pa, of course.’

  ‘Is he violent?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not so far, but he’s verbally abusive, full of himself and always in the right. Ma started to drink, then stopped, but carried on pretending to be an alcoholic.’ Tia grinned. ‘She’s a great actress. Pretending to be drunk meant she didn’t need to work with him any longer.’

  ‘They did seem to come as a pair,’ Theo commented.

  He found himself relaxing. Her humour was similar to his, as were her story-telling skills. Apart from his father’s family, this was the first person in Britain he’d told about Mom. Perhaps he was beginning to trust her; or was it because she lived here and would be working with him, too? Or was there a reason about which he preferred not to wonder? ‘Will your mom go out while she’s in Liverpool?’ he asked. ‘Or will she be a prisoner up here?’

  Tia waited until her mouth wasn’t full of food. ‘She has wigs and sunglasses and all kinds of weird clothes. She’ll be out and about, I dare say.’

  Unsurprised, he grinned. ‘Does she skiffle?’

  ‘Not as far as I know, though nothing would surprise me.’ She pondered. ‘No, I can’t imagine Ma with a washboard and metal thimbles.’

  ‘Well, if she overspills too much with her clothes and wigs, she can keep some of her stuff in one of my spare bedrooms.’

  ‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’

  Theo beamed. ‘Colin Duckworth might not agree with you.’ He set down his cutlery before regaling her with tales of his red-haired tormentor. The football on the roof was delivered first; after that came accounts of truancy to go fishing, roller skating and looking after our Denis. ‘He seems to nurture the opinion that school is optional. He writes notes from his parents, all capital letters and misspellings. I knew there was no chance that Roy or Trish would leave Colin to care for a goldfish, let alone a younger sibling. But there’s something about that kid . . .’

  ‘You’re fond of him.’

  Theo nodded. ‘There’s a strange innocence about him.’

  ‘In spite of the lies?’

  ‘Because of the lies, Tia. Colin would make a terrific lawyer.’ He stood up. ‘Mind, he’d have to stop blinking. Blinking’s his “tell”; it gives him away. He’s not in your class, but if you follow the sound of trouble, he’ll be closely attached to it.’

  ‘Are you going now?’

  ‘To see Jack, yes, then to Maggie’s.’

  She was about to ask if she might accompany him when her doorbell rang. ‘Bugger,’ she whispered. ‘That’ll be Simon. Oh, sh— shine a light. I’ve lost count of the times I asked him to stay in Kent.’

  ‘He’s in love with you, Portia.’

  She blinked at him. ‘Why do you sometimes give me my full name?’

  He raised his shoulders. ‘I like it. It’s a beautiful name.’

  ‘Oh. OK, abandon me and let him in on your way out.’ She was scowling. ‘Have you ever proposed to anyone?’

  He paused for a few beats of time. ‘Yes, but she accepted. I was young and foolish, far too young for marriage, I suppose. But Hitler saw her off along with most of the rest of Bootle. Alongside other American, Canadian, Polish and Australian early volunteers, I was allowed to join the forces. By the time I was demobbed, Sally had been dead for over three years.’

  Tia’s heart lurched. His mother, then his fiancée – this was terrible.

  Theo left and walked downstairs, opening the door to admit the very attractive young doctor. Simon Heilberg was dark-haired, blue
-eyed, tall and handsome. ‘Hello,’ Theo said, stepping out to allow the visitor in. When he received no answer, he grinned and walked away.

  The younger man almost ground his teeth; she often talked about Theodore Quinn. She seemed quite captivated by her boss and landlord. Was there something going on? And did he have the right to ask? After all, she’d told him often enough to bugger off.

  Simon ascended the stairs. For six years, he had pursued Tia Bellamy. They had been close for a while, but she had drifted away from him, taking up with a series of adventurous males who had travelled with her all over the country and abroad. She will come back to me. I’ve always known that she and I are meant for each other.

  He found her carrying dishes into the kitchen. ‘Did you feed him?’ he asked, trying in vain to keep his tone measured.

  Tia sighed. ‘Yes. We had a murder today, so everyone’s upset.’

  He perched on a stool, his mouth almost gaping. ‘Murder? Do tell.’

  She went through the story again while washing her dishes. ‘The little girl will be a pupil of mine in September. It’s been a difficult day.’

  ‘So you’re going into school without being paid? Surely you don’t start work until September.’

  Tia swallowed a quick and rather unpleasant answer about none of this being his business. ‘I’m learning my job, Simon. Would a surgeon attempt a tonsillectomy without having watched someone else doing the operation?’

  ‘That’s different,’ he almost snapped.

  ‘More important?’ She dried her hands. ‘Well, let me tell you, Simon Heilberg – without good schoolteachers, there would be no surgeons.’

  He held up a hand. ‘OK, I give up.’

  With her hands on her hips, she faced him. ‘That’s your problem. You don’t give up, do you? Why did you follow me up here when I begged you not to?’

  ‘Ordered me not to,’ he actually snapped.

  ‘I won’t marry you. I’m not ready for marriage, and I’m not sure I ever will be. Whatever, whenever, it won’t be you. And I made that clear before you chose to travel the length of the country. You’re a dear friend, and if I could choose a brother, you’d be in the running.’

  He gazed at her. ‘When you say I don’t give up easily, Tia, you’re absolutely correct, because I love you.’

  She walked past him into the sitting room, aware that he would be on her heels like a docile dog. ‘For a clever man, you display quite a lot of stupidity.’

  ‘I have a major flaw, a weakness,’ he replied. ‘It runs right through my core, and your name’s printed on it.’

  ‘Buy an eraser,’ she almost hissed, ‘or paint over me. I’m not available.’

  Clearly deep in thought, he stared into the middle distance.

  Tia picked up the evening paper.

  ‘It’s him, isn’t it?’ he challenged her. ‘The boss, the landlord, who must be at least ten years older than you. You’ve changed since you met him.’

  Tia peered at him over the top of Situations Vacant. ‘Go back to Kent, please. Your father will be delighted to have you return to the practice.’

  He snorted. ‘I’m going nowhere until you come with me.’

  ‘And I’m going nowhere, full stop. Right until the last minute, I hoped you’d show a bit of sense and stay where you were. You’re a first-class doctor with a master’s in stupid.’ She threw down the Liverpool Echo. ‘You know I care about you, Simon. But not in the way you want and need, and I can’t make that happen, because it’s impossible . . .’

  He took himself off to the bathroom. Sometimes she annoyed him to the point where he felt like yelling and ranting, but he was too well bred for such behaviour. As he washed his hands, it occurred to him that his and Tia’s roles were almost reversed, because she had reacted scarcely at all to the loss of her virginity, while he had taken the event very seriously.

  He returned to the living room. ‘Shall we go for a drink somewhere?’ he asked. ‘There’s a decent pub just round the corner.’

  ‘Not tonight, Simon. It’s been a day and a half, believe me.’

  He looked heavenward as if seeking divine guidance. ‘Tia?’

  ‘Yes?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘Was I no good at it?’

  ‘No good at what?’

  ‘Sex.’

  ‘Ah, that. I can assure you that there were no faults in the mechanism. I just don’t love you, that’s all.’

  Exasperated, he dropped into an armchair. ‘Then why did it happen?’

  ‘Well, I needed to find out what all the fuss was about, so I decided to do it with someone I knew and liked.’

  His jaw dropped. ‘And it didn’t really mean anything?’

  ‘Oh, but it did. I trusted you not to hurt me. Simon, that was five years ago – well, the first time was. And for a while I thought we might stay together, but I moved on, and so should you.’ She rose to her feet. ‘It’s friendship or nothing, and you knew this already before you came north. Coffee before you go? I have things to do tonight.’

  He stood up. ‘No, thanks. I’ll see you soon.’ He kissed her cheek and left quickly. As he climbed into his car, he saw her leaning out of a window. She was shouting to Quinn; she was telling him that she’d be down in two minutes. Too tired for a drink with a friend, but not too tired for Quinn. Damn and blast that man. This is not me being paranoid after all. Look at her face – she is glowing and smiling and . . . Drive off, Simon. Go back to your flat and think. He revved the engine and sped away, burning rubber as he went.

  Theo watched the black Ford as it turned onto the main road. She hadn’t gone with the good doctor, because she had chosen instead to visit the afflicted in Isabel and Clementine Streets. What was more, Theo felt as if he’d won the bout on points, though he’d hardly categorized Simon Heilberg as competition. Was this a battle, then? The beginning of a war?

  She arrived, hair in two plaits hanging over her breasts, blue ribbons on the ends of the braids, very little makeup, flat shoes, white socks, her skiffling jeans and a sleeveless blue blouse. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘You look about fourteen. Well, you would if you weren’t so tall.’

  Tia grinned. ‘So if I fall to pieces in your hands, you won’t need marinade to tenderize the flesh.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘Fresh asparagus and baby potatoes, I think. Let’s go.’

  They were nearing the city in his green MG when he next spoke. ‘Your follower is following us.’

  She nodded. ‘It’s all right, I’m used to it.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he said. He had no intention of becoming used to it. Pulling over, he stopped outside an off-licence, allowing time and space for Simon to park a few yards behind them. Without hesitation, Theo strode towards the black car. He pushed his head through the open window on the passenger side. ‘Do you need to speak to Miss Bellamy?’ he asked. ‘You seem to be in pursuit of her.’

  Simon heard and assimilated the double entendre. ‘My flat’s near here,’ he said, his tone clipped.

  ‘But you stopped driving when I did, so I assumed—’

  ‘I’m going to buy wine.’ The doctor’s skin was suddenly flushed.

  Theo stepped back. ‘Right. I’ll tell Miss Bellamy that she isn’t needed.’ He returned to his car.

  ‘Well?’ she asked.

  He climbed in next to her, not bothering to use the door of the open-topped vehicle. ‘Says he’s buying some wine. Where’s his flat, by the way?’

  ‘Woolton.’

  ‘So he’s come out of his way, then. This must be a very good liquor store.’

  Tia sighed. ‘I should never have told him I was moving up here. He won’t give up. But I was so excited that I opened my stupid mouth . . . Will I ever learn?’

  Theo found himself hoping that she wouldn’t learn. Like Colin Duckworth, she owned an innocence that appealed to him. She appealed to him. This woman was probably easy to love, and a part of him understood Simon Heilberg’s dilemma. ‘He’s suffering,
Tia.’

  ‘As am I,’ she snapped. ‘Sorry. It’s not your fault.’

  ‘Seeing you with another man isn’t helping him, though.’

  She fiddled with one of her plaits. ‘But you’re not another man; you’re my boss and my landlord and you’re very, very old.’

  He burst out laughing. She followed suit until they were both doubled over in pain. ‘Jesus,’ he managed. ‘What the hell did you put in that shepherd’s pie?’

  ‘Body parts,’ she gasped. ‘A bit of cream in the mash and a tiny . . . oh, God, I’m going to cry . . .’

  ‘A tiny what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s your what, not my what. You introduced the what.’ He dried his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘A tiny what?’

  She calmed herself. ‘Oh, that what. A tiny bouquet garni and a bit of nutmeg.’ A loud hiccup escaped from her throat. ‘Now look what you’ve done.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t start what-ing with me again, Mr Quinn. You’ve given me hiccups.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Why are we laughing, anyway?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea, but your boyfriend is walking back to his car with two bottles of red and a very deep frown.’

  Tia held her breath.

  ‘Why have you stopped breathing?’ her companion asked.

  ‘Trying to control my diaphragm,’ was the answer delivered with difficulty from behind clenched teeth.

  ‘He’s driven off.’

  At last, she breathed. ‘Good. And he’s not my boyfriend; he’s a reject.’

  ‘Poor Doc Heilberg,’ Theo muttered. ‘Such a cruel wench, you are.’

  She offered no answer.

  ‘Tia?’

  ‘I’m trying to stop the hiccups. I don’t want to be exploding all over Jack and Maggie and little Rosie, do I?’ It occurred to her that apart from the hour or so spent with her sisters playing on Chaddington Green, this was the first time in a while that she’d laughed uncontrollably. With luck and a strong following wind, Teddy Quinn was quite good fun. What was that saying of Ma’s? Ah, yes. ‘The way to a man’s heart might be via the digestive tract, but to win a woman, a chap needs to aim for the funny bone’ – that was the one.