Meet Me at the Pier Head

by Ruth Hamilton

  Isadora closed her eyes for a few minutes. Richard didn’t like Simon even before the boy reached his teens. When Portia and Simon were seeing each other, my husband hit the roof and maintained his position aloft until this very day. Richard is a right-wing freak. We will all be discovered now by the press, and there’s nothing I can do about that. O God, please make Simon well.

  They reached the hospital and found Juliet waiting for them at the front entrance. While Joan paid the driver, Isadora leapt out and ran to her daughter. ‘How is he?’ she asked.

  Juliet dashed scalding, fresh tears of relief from her cheeks. ‘It’s going well, Ma. They’ve done the X-rays. A small hairline fracture. But his brain hit his skull, and he’s rather confused, though they think he isn’t bleeding. Pa was arrested. Simon’s dad’s on his way here; somebody is with him to share the driving. Dr Jones will run the practice while Dr Heilberg’s away.’

  Joan and Isadora followed Juliet to a small room near the double doors to Men’s Surgical. The patient in the bed smiled broadly when they entered. A nurse was adjusting his top quilt when the three women arrived at the bedside. She looked up. ‘Who’s Juliet?’ she asked.

  ‘I am.’ Juliet took a step forward.

  ‘Good. He may have something to say to you.’

  Simon remained silent.

  ‘He just proposed to you. Well, he proposed to me, but he called me Juliet.’ She patted his hand. ‘Juliet’s here now, Doc. I can’t marry you because I’m already wed with three children, and my husband’s an amateur boxer – he’d put you in a real coma. You’d better ask her instead.’ The nurse smiled at everyone on her way out.

  Simon frowned. ‘Concussion?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Juliet sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Do you remember what happened?’

  ‘Some of it. We had no lunch.’

  Isadora’s relief made her sag against Joan, who put an arm round her waist to steady her.

  ‘I want to go home.’ Simon tried to sit up.

  ‘You know the drill,’ Juliet reminded him gently. ‘Twelve hours at least on coma chart. I’ll stay with you. I’ll even do your stats if they’ll allow me. Just rest. It’s your turn to do as you’re told.’ She turned to the other two women. ‘Will you bring me some clean underclothes? And toiletries, toothbrush and so forth, because I won’t leave him.’

  Isadora nodded before addressing Simon. ‘You remember me, I hope.’

  ‘Yes,’ he sighed as he drifted off to sleep.

  ‘Should he be sleeping?’ Joan asked anxiously.

  ‘He’ll be watched,’ Juliet promised. ‘Sleep isn’t coma. Thank you for coming, Ma, Joan. He’s going to be fine, I think.’

  ‘And your father?’ Isadora whispered.

  ‘No idea,’ was the response. ‘After what he did to Nanny and Simon, I find it difficult to care about him. He isn’t a good man.’

  Joan, knowing that Juliet, a Christian, must have searched her soul before delivering that statement, hugged the youngest of her charges. ‘Life gets hard sometimes, my princess. Your dad is what he is, and it’s a little late for change.’

  ‘I can’t forgive him for this, Nanny. Always, I tried to look for goodness in him; always, I’ve made the effort. But I saw the devil in his face when he crossed that room and tried to kill Simon just because he has a Jewish name.’

  Isadora changed the subject. ‘Would you like one of us to stay with you while the other goes to fetch your things?’

  Juliet reassured them that she was fine, that Simon would be well very soon, and apologized for panicking earlier. ‘But I must stay with him.’

  A thought occurred to Joan. After bidding Juliet goodbye till later, she ushered Isadora into the corridor. ‘We’re still within visiting hours. Let’s find out whether Rosie’s mother is here,’ she suggested. They enquired at the main desk and were directed to Geriatrics. ‘But she’s young,’ Isadora whispered to her companion. ‘Why is she with the elderly?’

  Joan tightened her lips and made no reply, though she knew the answer.

  As soon as they reached the ward, Joan spotted Sadie. She was still in her twenties, yet she did not look out of place with her lank hair, vacant eyes, colourless complexion and hands plucking at her skirt.

  Isadora stopped abruptly. ‘She didn’t know us before the suicide attempt, so she certainly won’t recognize us now.’

  But Joan walked on. ‘Hello, Mrs Tunstall. We’ve been taking care of Rosie.’ Isadora caught up with her companion.

  Sadie stared blankly at the two women. They stood looking at her, and she didn’t like that, so she rose to her feet, turned her chair and sat with her back to them. She was waiting for food. All she wanted was food. Eating was her sole pleasure, and they never gave her enough.

  Isadora’s eyes scanned the ward. Everyone except Sadie seemed to be at death’s door – surely this couldn’t be the right place for so young a person?

  Joan seemed to read her friend’s mind. ‘It’s either this or a psychiatric hospital, Izzy. Who will explain this to Rosie, and who will tell her?’

  ‘Maggie will, Joan. Come along, let’s pack a bag for Juliet.’

  ‘I was provoked,’ Richard insisted. ‘He’s with my youngest daughter now, after trying to ruin the life of my eldest.’

  Constable Marsden spoke to Sergeant Dunn. ‘He was provoked, sarge. Can we spell that?’

  ‘I am a great fan of Laurel and Hardy, officers, but your comedy lacks wit, wisdom and custard pies. Do you know who I am?’

  The constable advised the man under caution that he might have been recognized immediately as Richard Bellamy except for the hair. ‘So, according to police in Kent, you assaulted a Miss Joan Reynolds in Chaddington Green just a few days ago. Is that the case?’

  Richard offered no reply. He had lost everything. None of his daughters wanted to know him, and the future of the Bellamy dynasty was under threat. The Bellamys had never been as successful as Isadora’s lot, but they’d been classical actors, dependable, hardworking and worthy. What had Isadora produced? One teacher, one drummer and one nurse.

  ‘Are you with us, Mr Bellamy?’ the sergeant asked.

  Again, Richard made no effort no reply.

  ‘Well, you’ll have a small room here until morning, when you must answer to magistrates. Putting a doctor in a hospital bed was never a good idea.’

  The hero of many of Shakespeare’s tragedies and histories sat in a holding cell, his prime emotion self-pity. Isadora held the purse strings, and Bartle Hall was falling apart. Prison beckoned. His temper had got the better of him twice in recent days. Didn’t people realize what he was going through? Here he was, stuck in the north of England in prison, in despair and in a mess. His reputation had been dragged across acres of newsprint, reporters were dashing about to interview some of his lovers, and there was no hope for him, none at all.

  Isadora took Juliet’s necessities to the hospital while Joan waved her magic wand over bits of chicken. While she pursued her rescue mission, Joan pondered on the afternoon’s events. Simon would probably be fine, but what about poor Sadie Tunstall? No matter what she had been, what she had done, she did not deserve to be in that terrible state. At the age of twenty-five or so, she had been parked like a mouldy old book on a shelf, hidden where few people would see her. It was all the woman’s own work, but she had been driven towards suicide because she had lost control over her own life. ‘And from such situations children like Rosie emerge,’ she whispered to herself.

  Isadora returned. ‘Sorry I’m late. I sat with Sadie Tunstall for a while. Simon’s cracking some embarrassingly feeble jokes, so we needn’t worry about him. Sadie’s another matter. She can’t be left there. According to the ward sister, all she wants is food. When she’s finished her own, she wanders about stealing from the older ladies in there. What can be done, Joan?’

  Joan had no idea, and she said so.

  ‘Let’s eat,’ Izzy suggested, ‘because sometimes, the ordinary things keep us
sane.’

  ‘Jeez,’ Theo breathed. There was nothing ordinary about his new beloved’s old childhood home. He had already Jeezed his way past cottages, through woods, around ponds and across gardens. He’d met almost tame deer, some noisy geese, a pregnant pony and a mallard with a flotilla of babies. ‘Portia? Is this a stately home?’

  She grinned broadly. ‘No, my love. It’s a home in a state, a state of advanced decay. It belonged early on in its long life to a Catholic family who hid priests in it. Henry VIII stayed here while on a hunt and well before he decided to fire the pope. Charles II also spent some time upstairs on his way back to reclaim the throne – the family was staunch Catholic. There’s a secret chapel where they celebrated Mass, benedictions, baptisms and weddings. It’s in the roof, actually. Ma calls it the thinking room, because it’s so peaceful.’

  They entered the mansion via a door that meant business – solid oak pinned together by huge studs, with a heavy knocker in the shape of a sword through the heart of a dragon, huge, complaining hinges and a letterbox large enough to take the most cumbersome of envelopes. Inside, Theo ground to a halt. ‘Holy Moses,’ he said.

  ‘No, he never slept here, Teddy.’

  He awarded her a dirty look.

  Tia grinned at him. She’d known all along that he would fall in love with Bartle Hall.

  ‘But it’s a room, not an entrance hall. It’s amazing. I was raised in lodgings and trailers about one twentieth of this size.’

  She began his education, telling him that the long table under a decorative arch was placed there for visiting dignitaries and for the master. Court sessions were held here, as were meetings regarding tithes, crops and the allocation of cottages and land. He ran his fingers over lathe and lime plaster walls until Tia told him that horse droppings were sometimes in the mix.

  Theo looked upward. The black-and-white ornate patterns continued all the way across the ceiling. ‘It needs some work,’ he said. ‘This must be restored and preserved.’

  ‘In houses like this one, the hall was, in effect, a living room,’ she told him. ‘They would eat in here before sitting round the fire to tell tales or listen to musicians. Those who had over-indulged in mead or barley wine slept where they dropped. Minstrels played for them, and King Henry probably brought his jester.’

  Mickle, clearly unimpressed by the monarchy, sat and scratched an ear before following them through living rooms and the great ballroom. By the time they started the exploration of upstairs, the dog had begun to lag behind. Her owners were strange; they wandered about a great deal. Outside was all right, but this place smelled odd.

  Theo and Tia sat side by side on Delia’s four-poster. ‘What the hell are you gonna do with this place?’ he asked her. ‘Eighteen bedrooms, bits added on at the back downstairs – I’m so glad they left the front alone. But it’s too big to be home for one family.’

  ‘I know.’

  He studied her face. ‘What do you know, Tia? You’ve a face so honest that it betrays your secrets. Come on, out with it.’

  She paused for a few moments. ‘OK. Pa owns it and can’t afford to keep it. Ma owns the cottages and a lot of the land. She has some sort of plan to buy the hall from Pa and get it repaired before turning it into a home and school for underprivileged and damaged children. Like Rosie. Rosie cut right through Ma’s steel armour and reached the twenty-four-carat core. My mother arranged the appointment for Thursday. On Friday, Rosie will be examined for historic physical and psychological damage. Isadora is a woman of principle, and she intends to put her money where her social conscience lies.’

  Theo blinked a couple of times. ‘It’ll cost thousands to get this place into shape,’ he said.

  ‘Ma’s wealthy, Ted. I think Delia, Juliet and I would prefer her to use her money this way.’ She glanced sideways at him. ‘My plan goes further. You and I might run it, especially the education side, while Juliet could be Matron. I know she’ll marry Simon, so the Heilberg practice would be in charge of any serious medical problems.’ She sighed. ‘We’d have to leave Liverpool, of course.’

  ‘Not immediately, surely?’

  Tia shook her head. ‘It will take years to make Bartle Hall habitable and suitable for children. Ma will work on permissions and some government funding, but she won’t find it easy. Neither will she fail, because she never does, and she works hard for the NSPCC. It’s just an idea she had. I’m embroidering it, so don’t make me lose my thread again.’

  He stretched out on the bed. The estate was beautiful. Cleaned up and restored, it would make an enchanting haven in which to grow up. ‘What about Thursday?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll let you know, Sir. Come along, and I’ll show you the long gallery. Any valuable items have been removed by Ma, but it still manages to be spectacular. A great space for children to play marbles.’

  They walked hand in hand along a stretch of corridor made just to show off paintings. ‘Families who lived in the hall hung their portraits here. Look at the ceiling. All those beams will look lovely once restored, as long as someone manages to kill the woodworm. This house must be used, Teddy. That’s why I wanted you to see it. Shortly, we’ll go to the kitchen and steal food. Mrs Melia will be staying in her cottage while the hall is empty.’ She paused. ‘Let’s hope it stays empty; if Pa arrives, I might just find my gun and deal with him.’

  Theo chuckled. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘I know. But I can dream, can’t I?’ She stared hard at him. ‘Yes, we’ll keep that appointment with officialdom on Thursday; it will be the first step towards Rosie’s safety. Let’s sit here on the windowsill for a little while.’ She clung to his hand when they were seated. ‘There’s something you should know, Mr Teddy Bear. Don’t get upset now.’

  ‘Why the hell would I get—’

  ‘Shush.’ She placed her free hand on his lips. ‘Listen to me, beautiful boy. We can’t count on Sadie or Maggie.’

  He frowned.

  ‘Teddy, Maggie is dying. The only people who know are Maggie, myself, my mother and Joan – and now you. That’s why our friends are in Broadstairs, because I wanted Rosie to have wonderful memories of her nana. Tom and Nancy have no idea, but they’ll notice and summon help if Maggie gets worse. She has months at best. Don’t cry, Teddy; don’t set me off.’

  ‘Dying?’

  ‘Yes. They’re making progress with the treatment of leukaemia, but there’s little they can do for Maggie. All she wants is to be with Rosie until – well, for as long as possible.’ She wiped his tears with her hand. ‘Maggie signed herself out of hospital care before you collected her, sweetheart. She didn’t need to sit or lie there like a specimen while they studied her death.’

  Theo turned his head and looked out on a world distorted by tears and by imperfections in leaded glass. When he spoke, the words were fractured. ‘Poor little Rosie. Poor Maggie.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He looked at her. ‘How do you manage to be so strong?’

  ‘It’s not strength; it’s loyalty. Remember my namesake in The Merchant of Venice? She was honourable rather than strong, and I try hard to deserve her title. I was given two tasks. The first was to tell you about Maggie’s condition when the time seemed right, and the second is to do my best for Rosie. My mother will help with Rosie. She could charm the devil, let alone the welfare people, if she put her mind to it. So yes, Thursday’s event will happen, because it’s our first step. Wear a suit and a smile, as we shall be meeting strangers. Come on, let’s find the dog.’ She whistled and Mickle arrived within seconds.

  Daphne Melia was in the kitchen, an area big enough to cater for dozens. ‘I’m making you a casserole and a fruit cake,’ she told them after her introduction to Theo. ‘I’ve had no calls from Broadstairs either here or in Lilac Cottage. But Mrs Bellamy contacted me. Your father’s been arrested for hitting someone, so you should be left in peace while you’re here.’

  ‘Arrested?’ Tia’s eyebrows moved north.

  The cook/housekee
per nodded. ‘The magistrates may pass him on to Crown Court because he’s done this twice. That’s what your mother said, anyway. She told me you were at Rose Cottage and asked me to look after you.’ She frowned. ‘I’m due to retire, and I’d like to know you’re all safe and settled before I do. But your father seems to have lost the plot.’

  Tia sat at the vast, scrubbed table. ‘I’ll visit you when I can, Mrs Melia.’

  ‘And my sister will be living with me – our Ethel. You know Ethel, because she used to have the post office near the green. But I’ll miss this daft house.’

  Theo smiled. ‘It must be difficult to clean.’

  ‘It is, Mr Quinn. I had help from the village, of course. Are you American?’

  ‘I sure am,’ he said, smiling at the large, sweet woman.

  ‘They were here in the war. I remember dances in the ballroom. They brought us stockings and chocolate and tinned fruit. Cheerful, they were. Tia, Delia and Juliet used to run up and down the stairs just to look at the Americans and talk to them.’

  ‘We got bubble gum,’ Tia said. ‘And they gave us sweets. My father didn’t approve of foreigners, but he said little because they were huge men and they were helping win our war for us. Pa wasn’t allowed to serve abroad because of his eyesight, and he was probably too old. He did a desk job in London, so we got some peace during the war. That sounds odd, doesn’t it?’

  The dog wandered in. She’d had enough of the dusty, sneeze-making atmosphere and was glad to find the bright, clean kitchen. Wearing the expression of deep sadness common to most large breeds, she sighed heavily and glanced at Mrs Melia. Mrs Melia, for whom this was love at first sight, found the ‘good doggie’ a nice slice of tongue and some chicken breast.

  ‘Right,’ Theo said, ‘time to go before she eats everything you have, Mrs Melia.’ They left, followed by a reluctant Mickle, who seemed to have resolved to take a degree in begging for food.

  With three whole days to enjoy each other’s company, Theo and Tia returned to play house in Rose Cottage. Like a pair of teenagers, they larked about in fields and forests, made love, cleaned their kitchen, made love, drove through one of the most beautiful counties in England, made love, and got ready for Thursday, when the first steps towards a decent future for Rosie would be taken.