Meet Me at the Pier Head by Ruth Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page B

the lads in the
skiffle group.
    ‘You’re pretty if you’d just clean up your act,’ said the innocent Juliet.
    ‘I am what I am.’ There was an edge to Delia’s tone.
    Tia jumped up. ‘Time for my escape, girls. The London train should have left by now, so we’d better make hay before sundown.’
    Juliet sat with Tia for the ride back to Bartle Hall. ‘What’s the matter with Delia? Why does she get so . . . so surly?’
    Tia kept her eyes on the road. Surely Juliet, a nurse, must have read about people’s differences? ‘It’s just the way she’s made, Jules. I want you to find Kingsley the
bear and Charlie, my blue rabbit. They’ll be in the nursery.’
    ‘Taking them with you?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What about books?’
    ‘I’ll get them.’ There. That was the subject changed, thank goodness.
    The afternoon became a blur of activity. Two ancient trunks were retrieved from the attic and placed empty in the van, as they were heavy enough without Tia’s extensive collection of
clothes. She dealt with her own books and clothing, while Delia and Juliet concentrated on memories, which included a rocking horse bought for Tia’s third birthday and a large dolls’
house, including furniture and battery-powered lighting.
    Joan Reynolds supervised proceedings and collected Tia’s jewellery, handbags and large assortment of hats and shoes. The cook, Daphne Melia, packed sandwiches and drinks for both drivers
before bidding them a teary farewell.
    Isadora was remarkably calm. Seated on her chaise with each arm round one of her precious girls, she advised both to take their time while driving north. ‘Be happy,’ she ordered.
‘Skiffle all you like, Cordelia, and I know that you, Portia, will be a wonderful teacher. There is little point in trying to reason with your father, so make no attempt. Help your sister to
settle in,’ she begged of her middle child.
    ‘I will, Ma. I can keep the van for another few days, because the lads have hopped off to France for a fortnight.’ She blushed. ‘We’re so proud of you, Ma, and so glad
you’re not alcoholic.’
    The mother studied this daughter. ‘Are you lesbian, dear?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
    Tia sighed with relief. Delia had needed to offload that information for years.
    Isadora smiled. ‘I do hope you meet someone as good and as kind as you are, sweetheart. Be aware that some people will castigate you, but, unlike men, you can’t be jailed. Poor Oscar
served time, but Queen Victoria decided that lesbianism didn’t exist, since she couldn’t imagine what women might do together.’ She took hold of Delia’s face and kissed her
on the forehead. ‘Be yourself, and to hell with prejudice.’
    She turned to Tia. ‘Enjoy your work, dear child.’
    ‘You will come to stay, Ma? Mr Quinn says it’s fine with him, and he won’t tell anyone who or where you are. Nanny has the address.’
    ‘When my lawyer has organized the papers and other evidence, Joan and I will be with you. Thank Mr Quinn before we get there. Now, you must go while enough daylight remains. I’ll be
in touch.’ She turned to Delia. ‘When you leave Portia in Liverpool, go back to your place in London. If reporters find you, tell them nothing. Your father’s predilection for
young women will be big news.’
    ‘Yes, Ma.’
    The girls rose and stepped back, still facing their mother.
    Isadora beamed at the pair. ‘Remember when the Blyton Three tried to prove that Mr Jenkins at the Punch Bowl was selling drink brought in by smugglers through tunnels under the village
green?’
    Tia and Delia smiled.
    ‘And when you decided that Miss Evans-Jones was stealing books from the library?’
    Tia tried and failed to look contrite.
    ‘Then you wanted the vet prosecuted for murdering your pony, Portia.’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ Tia replied. ‘Those were the days.’
    ‘It was playacting,’ Isadora said. ‘You turned your lives into an epic adventure, and you were all offered