Meet Me at the Pier Head

by Ruth Hamilton

  Simon and Juliet were shown to a table for two in one of a pair of alcoves nicknamed lovers’ nooks. When they faced one another across the table, Simon noticed a faint blush staining his companion’s perfect cheekbones. She wasn’t Tia, would never be Tia, but she was a nurse, more than easy on the eye and usually better behaved than his ex-beloved.

  He dragged his eyes away from his companion. ‘Caviar?’ he asked nonchalantly.

  ‘As long as they cut the crusts off my toast. Mrs Melia used to tell us that eating crusts would give us curly hair, but I prefer straight and manageable, so I’ve never eaten them.’

  Simon grinned – she sounded just like Tia. ‘And for the entrée, mademoiselle?’

  ‘J’aime beaucoup le steak au poivre, monsieur.’

  ‘That’s hot stuff, Juliet. Fresh peppercorns battered to dust, all that cream and Dijon mustard – you’ll be very full.’

  She smiled sweetly. ‘Then crème brûlée as dessert.’

  ‘Is this your way of informing me that you’re no cheap date? Shall I need a bank loan?’

  ‘Oui, vraiment.’

  ‘Your sister is similar, though she has been known to enjoy fish and chips served on the News of the World, no fork, just fingers.’

  ‘Yes, I do that, too, but I insist on The Times and no peas. Fingers weren’t made for peas, or perhaps peas weren’t made for fingers.’

  He settled back to read the wine list, his feelings dichotomous, because this young woman was Tia until he looked carefully at her. She used the same phraseology, the same body language, the same laugh. Yes, this was just a first date, but would it be right to follow on after tonight? The sisters were close, and he might see more of Tia if he dated Juliet regularly. He would see the real Tia, and this miniature version. Could he bear that?

  But he liked Juliet . . . she was a great girl.

  He gave his order to the sommelier before speaking again to his lovely companion. ‘You’ll get a good reference, I’m sure, so why not continue your midwifery at Liverpool Women’s Hospital? You can return to Canterbury when all the fuss has died down.’

  ‘I don’t want to impose on Tia. She has enough guests with Ma and Nanny.’

  ‘There’s plenty of room in my flat,’ he told her. The blush paid another visit to peaches and cream skin. The blush pleased him, though he didn’t dig too deeply into his psyche to work out why.

  ‘That wouldn’t be right,’ she answered softly, before raising her chin. ‘Ma bought me a flat in Canterbury, so I could let that and use the money to pay for a flat up here.’

  He grimaced. ‘Still the same girl, aren’t you? Determined not to dig too soon into your legacy. Talk to Quinn – he owns property, I believe.’ He also owns your big sister, and do you want to associate with me after my longstanding affair with Tia? I need you here for a few months so that I might work out what’s good for me, whether you maintain interest in me and how I might feel about partnering the Bellamy baby. You are so sweet, though. And I am a selfish bastard.

  ‘What’s on your mind, Simon?’ she asked.

  That was typical Tia behaviour, digging for the truth, asking too many questions, addressing a point when the point hadn’t yet been raised. ‘I’m thinking of food, wine and the companionship of a very beautiful woman.’

  ‘What else? Are you hoping that Tia will become jealous because you’re with me? After all, you left an established family practice in order to pursue my sister.’

  ‘No.’ The single syllable was delivered strongly.

  ‘No, you didn’t leave home to follow Tia, or no, I’m not a scrap dropped from the top table for dogs on the floor?’

  ‘We’re just having a meal,’ he whispered.

  ‘Wrong,’ she replied. ‘You’re having a meal, and I’m going to the ladies’ room before phoning for a taxi. Nobody uses me, Heilberg.’ She leapt to her feet and walked the length of the restaurant to the facilities near the front reception area.

  He shook his head almost imperceptibly. Juliet had power and backbone and determination. That behaviour was definitely Tia-ish. Oh, God, what am I going to do now? I still haven’t ordered the food . . . He placed the price of the red wine, which had no doubt been uncorked to breathe, on a side plate together with a tip and followed as casually as he could in Juliet’s footsteps.

  She emerged a few minutes later, tear-stained and drying her eyes on a very small handkerchief.

  ‘Here,’ he said, passing his man-sized and monogrammed square. ‘Let’s go. I haven’t had a drink, so we can retrieve my car from the restaurant’s car park.’ He had intended to make use of a service offered by Par Excellence, who allowed customers to leave vehicles overnight if they preferred to take a taxi.

  Simon drove in silence to the Pier Head and parked nearby. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘A bit of fresh air and a conversation is my prescription, Nurse Bellamy.’

  She stood by the railings, twisting and turning Simon’s handkerchief in nervous fingers. ‘You knew. Both of you knew. I managed to convince Tia that it was just a crush, but I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had a boyfriend because of you. So don’t mess me about, Doc. Stay away from me and don’t moon over Tia, because she’s found her man now. I may seem quiet, but do not mistake me, don’t think of me as weak. Ever.’ There was weight behind the final word.

  ‘But I—’

  ‘But you what?’ She rounded on him, her eyes seeming to blaze shards of blue fire. ‘I gave you my truth, so you must give me yours. After all, fair exchange is no robbery, or so people say.’

  The Mersey was skittish tonight, and a breeze whipped up over the water, causing Juliet to shiver.

  Simon removed his jacket and placed it round her shoulders, leaving his arm in place and pulling her closer when he had covered her back. ‘Yes,’ he began, ‘my turn for truth. It’s all the fault of Louisa M. Alcott, American writer, associate of many famous authors, feminist, abolitionist and spinster, died in Boston, I believe. I read Little Women, Little Men and Jo’s Boys one summer when I was bored. The chap next door to the March sisters fixed his eyes on Jo, but his affection was not returned, so he married a younger one, Amy, I think.’

  ‘And?’ She shrugged away his protective arm.

  He paused, noticing that Juliet’s eyes were nearer to grey at the moment; perhaps they attempted to echo the odd colour of the water. ‘And I thought you might be my Amy.’

  ‘Just because my sister rejected you.’

  ‘Just because you’re beautiful, intelligent and sweet.’

  ‘I’m not sweet,’ she almost growled. ‘Merely quieter than Tia.’

  ‘And than Delia,’ he said.

  ‘Delia’s different, Simon. I begin to believe she may be lesbian.’

  ‘She is. But I beg you, give me a chance.’

  Juliet stared into his eyes. ‘And damage myself even further? All the way up from Kent, I had one thought in mind because I was going to see you that day. From time to time, I thought about my mother and my sisters and Nanny, but you have been . . . I always wanted you. Perhaps I should have grown out of it, and I certainly wish I had, but I am not playing second fiddle. I lead the orchestra or play a different tune.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Take me back to Tia. Now.’ She stalked off towards the car.

  As she walked away, he noticed that his jacket was almost a full-length coat on her.

  He opened the passenger door for her, took his time while walking round to the driver’s side, climbed in, and placed his hands on the steering wheel. ‘Juliet, what can I say to you? I brought you out for a meal to show you that Liverpool is a worthy place. Behind that intention lay the hope that you might still like me and that we might find some kind of future together, professional, personal – whatever.’

  She sat with her arms folded, as if hugging the inner child.

  ‘Think of me as a man who has imperfect vision and is taking measures to correct it. She dazzled me, Jules. She claimed all my senses, because I li
ved only to see, hear and breathe her. I had to come all this way to realize that it was simply a recurring dream, and I must not allow it to become a nightmare. She is not the sun, and you and I are not mere satellites. You’re a very beautiful woman, and I’m a starving man because I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I hope we can be friends.’

  Juliet uncrossed her arms. ‘Can we get fish and chips?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’ He grinned. She had turned down caviar and steak au poivre for cod and fried spuds.

  ‘Dandelion and burdock?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘And might we eat outside somewhere near the river?’

  ‘That can certainly be arranged.’

  ‘OK, Doc Hunter-Gatherer. Go forth and find food.’

  He turned the ignition key. This was going to be fun.

  Thirteen

  Maggie arrived at the school just as Theo was leaving his office to deliver the Last Post, as he had named the final assembly of every school term. Today’s Last Post was to be truly final for Standard Four pupils, as they would not return in September. For six years, these had been his children; Myrtle Street School was their foundation, while Ivy Lane would build their walls and roofs. ‘They’d better do a good job and use the finest of materials,’ he was muttering as he left the office and collided with Rosie’s beloved nana. ‘Maggie?’ She was clearly distressed, a handkerchief held to her face, upper body racked with sobs. ‘Maggie, what the hell happened? Come on, tell me.’

  ‘Sadie’s come round from her coma,’ she wept. ‘She’s not right in her mind, Theo. They said she might improve in time, but she didn’t know me. She doesn’t recognize her own mother. She strangled all the oxygen out of herself and her brain might be all wrong. I can’t leave her like that, can I? I can’t go dashing off to Kent while Sadie’s ill – it wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘Maggie, if she doesn’t know you—’

  ‘She’s my daughter, Theo. She’s the only child I ever had. When her dad died, there were just the two of us, so we used to be close until she started . . . You know what I mean.’

  ‘I do know. And Rosie is your only grandchild. We have to give her the holiday we promised her. That child must be shown that she has value, that we care. Have you packed? Did Tia finish making Rosie’s new dresses?’ He needed to distract Maggie, to get her to focus on her real precious burden – little Rosie.

  ‘Yes,’ was her whispered reply. ‘And she bought her a new coat.’

  ‘Sweet lady, remember that the young come first in everything. Sadie is in good hands, expert hands. She won’t miss you, but Rosie would. She’ll have Tom and Nancy from next door, but you’re the person she truly needs and loves. You’re the last stable ship afloat on the stormy waters in which she’s been flotsam or jetsam so far. Sit in my office while I do the final assembly before dismissal until September.’ He leaned in closer to her. ‘There’s a drop of whisky in the top left hand drawer of my desk. For medicinal purposes only, you understand. Calm yourself, but don’t get drunk, or you’ll be in detention.’

  She opened the door, turned and looked at him. ‘I feel torn in two,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what to do for the best.’

  ‘Wait in there for me.’ He walked off towards the hall, no notes in hand or pocket, his stride purposeful, though part of his mind was occupied by thoughts of Maggie, Sadie and Rosie, three people whose futures were uncertain at best, ill-fated at worst. He took hold of a good thought and held it at the front of his consciousness. This year, eleven leavers were going to grammar school, eleven scholarships, eleven chances of a career rather than a job. In Theo’s sector of the city, Myrtle Street School was top of the class.

  He stood before the lines of children, his hands holding the front edges of his black gown as usual, a smile on his face. It was time to say goodbye. Of course he wanted them to move on and do well, but he found it difficult to let go, because this was probably as near as he would ever get to having children of his own. Pausing for a moment, he looked along the lines of faces. She will want children, and I know she’s capable of overruling me. He shook the thought from his head and smiled.

  ‘Well, the pupils in Standard Four have already endured my yearly lecture without falling asleep, and I thank them for their attentiveness. Here in Myrtle Street they are the big boys and girls, but they will start all over again at the bottom when the new school year begins. We will miss them, and I’m sure we all hope they’re going to behave themselves and be a credit to us.’

  He delivered a sad, heartfelt message of goodbye for Miss Ellis, who was presented with a set of cutlery, plus a Royal Doulton china figurine to add to all the others in her glass-fronted cabinet at home. She managed not to weep after her forty-odd years in the same classroom, and Theo was grateful for that. This was an admirable woman and a splendid teacher, but he was losing her, too. Yes, and he was gaining— He squashed a smile. Oh, Portia. God help me; God help both of us.

  Much to Theo’s surprise, this year’s leavers had organized a collection. With their spoils, they had bought for him a collar and lead, both leather, and the collar was studded to make Mickle look ‘dead hard’. He blinked back emotion while offering his thanks and then leading them into ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’, followed by the National Anthem. Miss Cosgrove, who played the piano, gazed at him lovingly while he sang. Oh, bugger. See? Tia’s taking over my unspoken words now. I wish that poor woman would stop staring at me.

  And, after three cheers, it was supposedly over, yet the leavers’ class came to the front and stood in front of younger, smaller children, blocking their view of the head teacher. After singing ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’, they applauded him loudly, turned, and got the whole school to join in the hand-clapping. Theo maintained his composure before dismissing school. Sometimes, these kids almost broke his heart.

  Standard Four remained until the end, as if reluctant to leave. He shook each hand before shooing them out of the hall. But they finally filed out in good order towards a summer of freedom, though their sedate behaviour changed when they entered the yard. Whooping, whistling and shouting, they ran towards liberty and uncertainty, leaving behind the protective shell that had contained them for so many of their formative years. Never again would they receive the same level of pastoral care; next year might well be obedience, homework and not a great deal of fun.

  Staff began to prepare for the evening’s party before their students had left the yard. Anxious to get away to make the best of themselves, the teachers moved swiftly to change the hall/gymnasium into a meeting place for a few adults. Theo left them to it and returned to his office and Maggie.

  She was at a window, staring out at the escaping throng. ‘You’re not wrong,’ she said after glancing over her shoulder. ‘They come first, and Rosie’s one of them. It’s a bit late for Sadie, no matter what happens. She’ll either go back to her old ways, or she’ll be brain-damaged, or even both.’ She shuddered. ‘Rosie’s told me she wants to stay with me, because her mother hasn’t looked after her. She didn’t say Sadie hadn’t saved her, but that’s what she meant.’ She turned completely and faced him. ‘Yes, we’ll go and give Rosie a nice holiday and a look at a different part of the country. It’s educational, isn’t it?’

  Theo smiled, though his eyes remained sad. ‘You can keep in touch with the hospital, ask daily about Sadie’s progress.’

  ‘On the phone?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll get the details for you. Come along, young lady, let’s get you home.’ She, Nancy, Tom and Rosie were in for a huge surprise when they reached Kent, because Tia had come up with a rather splendid idea.

  ‘Young lady?’ she asked, an eyebrow arched.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll tell you when you’re old, Maggie. Now, I need time to change into my best frock. Shall I wear the pink gingham with the sweetheart neckline or the strapless black with a boned bodice and sequins? Don’t laugh. For all you know, I might be serious. How do you know it isn’t going to be fa
ncy dress? I rather fancy myself as Little Bo Peep.’

  Maggie actually giggled. ‘You’re as mad as she is.’

  ‘She?’ he asked, though he knew the answer.

  ‘Miss Bellamy, Portia, Tia, or any other name she’s using today.’

  ‘Oh, her,’ he grinned. ‘Yes, she’s unusual.’

  Maggie shook her head. ‘No, unusual is Nella Fishwick from the bottom end of Ivy Lane. She’s about six foot tall and about eight foot wide. She looks like a gasworks with a hairnet. Tia’s special, and she’s a special kind of clever with a special idea of fun. I never know what to expect when I get back from visiting Sadie. Yesterday, she had your dog dressed in a frock. A bloody Ally in turquoise with spots. My poor Rosie was rolling about on the floor in pain cos she’d laughed that much. Oh, I don’t know whether you noticed, but Mickle has nail polish on her claws. Candy pink, it is, if she hasn’t chewed it off. Tia says she’s trying to bring out the dog’s feminine side. Fortunately, she couldn’t catch Tyger.’

  He nodded, still grinning. ‘I took her down to the river where it’s begun to eat its way inland. She did a Canute and got quite wet. She says we all have Canute wrong, because he sat there on his throne while the tide came in just to prove that no man, not even a king, can hold back the inevitable. Oh, and she taught me that although he couldn’t stop the tide, Canute managed to hold back Viking invaders.’

  ‘She’s brilliant, Theo.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Most good teachers are a fount of totally useless information.’

  Maggie was quiet for a mile or so. ‘You get on well together, don’t you?’ she asked as they neared Allerton.

  ‘Yes, we do.’

  The next bit was difficult and intrusive. ‘She can’t take her eyes off you. And you can hardly take yours off her. We can all see you’re made for each other. I know it’s early days, but there’s something going on. Izzy and Joan think so, too.’