A Liverpool Song (8 page)

‘There’s nothing wrong with Woolton,’ Kate said. ‘And I’ll look after you. Helen, you’ve a new baby and—’

‘Oh, shut up. Look after me? If you’d kept me in the picture . . . Did he touch you or any of our friends?’

Kate could only nod. For the first time ever, Helen had taken the lead. ‘He’s a randy bastard. Sorry, babe.’

Helen looked her sister up and down as if assessing a stranger. ‘You betrayed me by your silence. Now, I don’t care how drunk you are. Fill your car with my stuff; the suitcases are
in my dressing room. When you run out of cases, use plastic bags. Take the cases and bags to Rosewood, empty them out, then come back with the cases for the rest of it. I’ll pack for the
children and take them in my car. I am disgustingly sober.’

‘As am I now.’

‘Good. You might just survive, and you may even keep your licence. Don’t forget, you’ll need change for the tunnel. Sorry to have inconvenienced you by moving across the river
to Neston.’

By ten o’clock, both cars were filled to bursting, though the good news was that Kate wouldn’t have to return. The few bits and pieces of Helen’s that were not on board were
maternity wear or aged beyond revival.

They began the drive across the Wirral, a place Helen had come to love. She would miss the open fields, the farms, and Ness Gardens, a wondrous place that was the property of Liverpool
University. Students came there to study botany, and Helen had often tagged along. She was leaving behind a whole way of life, but she would stick to her guns. Daniel was finished, and she intended
to take him to the cleaners. His clothes, on the other hand, would need no cleaning. Oh yes, the man would have to learn to look on the bright side.

Kate unlocked her father’s front door. She was accosted immediately by something that seemed to move at the speed of light.

Andrew appeared. He was rubbing his eyes, and it was plain that he’d been dozing in his armchair. ‘Kate?’

She dumped the first lot of luggage in the hall. The dog returned, jumped up and almost knocked her off her feet. ‘Helen won’t like you,’ she advised him. ‘Jump up at
that baby, and you’ll be toast.’

Andrew remained confused. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

‘Helen’s coming home,’ was all the reply Kate offered before going for more cases and bin liners.

‘Coming home?’ he asked the dog. ‘She has a home on the Wirral. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Storm, but Eva is not the only human female who speaks no sense. Come on.
Let’s put you somewhere safe.’

When he returned, Andrew’s younger daughter was in the hall. ‘Hello, Daddy. I’m afraid this is an invasion, but it can’t be helped. I need four bedrooms; two for the
children, one for me and one for the nanny. She had the night off, so I’ll send for her tomorrow. Close your mouth, dear, there’s a bus coming.’

Andrew clamped his teeth together. ‘What the hell’s happened?’

‘He’s in bed with an Amsterdam whore. Well, he was. By now, he’ll be somewhere over the Channel unless the plane has crashed. One can only hope. Though it would be a pity if
other passengers suffered.’

A two-year-old Sarah, still sleeping, was deposited in Andrew’s arms. ‘Take her upstairs, Daddy,’ Kate ordered.

He complied. Where his daughters were concerned, resistance was futile. He remembered Kate dressing him down a few years ago, accusing him and Mary of near neglect, so he’d better start
trying to atone for past sins. The feel of the child in his arms was lovely. Sarah was beautiful, dark-haired and perfect like her mother. And like her grandmother.

He came downstairs, lifted the carrycot and carried the baby up to her room. On the landing, he stood for a while. Sarah was only two. She probably still needed a cot. Where was it? Ah yes.
He’d put it in the used-to-be airing cupboard. With his new combination boiler, he didn’t need an airing cupboard to hold a tank. But he did need a cot.

Minutes later, two daughters found their father on the landing. Pieces of wood lay round him. ‘Little Sarah might tumble out of bed, so . . .’ He waved a hand over the dismantled
cot. ‘I made this, you know,’ he said. ‘When Mary was expecting you, Katherine, I built this little number from scratch. Every spindle, I carved and smoothed. Dad did some of it.
He was still agile back then.’

They helped him carry it into Sarah’s room. As quietly as possible, they built the frame, put in the base and mattress, then folded single bed covers until they fitted. Sarah was lifted
from the single bed and placed in safety. ‘Thanks, Daddy,’ Kate said. ‘Very thoughtful of you. Cassie will manage in her carrycot for now.’

He reached out for his younger daughter. ‘Come downstairs, Helen. Kate might begin unpacking while you talk to me.’

After ten minutes, his clothing was wet with her tears. The really sad thing was that he couldn’t remember when he had last comforted either of his daughters. Ian had come to him for
advice, but Ian was now a doctor, so their conversations had been . . . well . . . rather clinical. ‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he urged. ‘Are you breastfeeding?’

Still sobbing, she nodded.

‘Well it’ll be curdled at this rate, Helen. It’ll probably come out pasteurized, too.’ He kissed the top of her head, wondered when he’d last done that, and what
kind of a father was he, anyway? This beautiful child had inherited his height and Mary’s face, Mary’s body, so she was an elegant specimen, about five feet nine or ten inches tall,
curvaceous, a stunning sight. Daniel Pope needed knee-capping, and Andrew would not be on hand to mend such damage, as he had resigned.

‘Kate knew, Daddy,’ she managed.

‘She loves you, child. Kate may seem tough, but she has a big heart, and she adored you right from the beginning of your life. Don’t blame her. She’ll have lived for some time
in a terrible quandary.’

‘Yes.’

‘You’ll be all right here. I’ll look after you, I promise.’

‘Oh, Daddy.’

‘I know, I know.’ Poor Kate, too. Kate’s beauty was in her smile, in her attitude. Four or five inches shorter than her sister, Kate projected warmth, superior intellect,
generosity, and the promise of fun. Had Helen not been born, the older girl would have been judged beautiful, but she had stood for almost a whole lifetime in the shadow of utter perfection. The
children had been twenty-two, twenty and eighteen when Mary had died. Had he been there for them? Had he buggery. So consumed by his own grief, so devastated, selfish, stupid, arrogant . . .

She calmed down gradually. ‘I loved him so much, Daddy. Is it possible to love too much?’

‘Yes. Your mother and I were guilty of that. We never really learned to communicate properly with our own children when you were little. I remember feeling terrible when I gave you both
away at your weddings. The most wonderful sight until then was your mother when we married, but you outshone even her. I am so sorry.’

Helen raised her head. ‘Don’t worry, we got through. But you see, Daddy, had Mummy ever betrayed you, you would have hated her big-style. Daniel now has no clothes, no wine, no stash
of money or jewels of dubious origin.’

‘That wasn’t hatred, baby. That was temper. Temper’s flame is white-hot and soon burns out. Hatred comes later. It’s a cold place.’ He paused. ‘Hey, what do
you mean about the wine? I would have liked it, you wastrel.’

At last, she smiled through the tears.

‘A rainbow,’ he said. ‘The sun shining on cloud. What a beauty you are.’

‘There was no room in the cars for the wine, Daddy.’

‘Ah. In that case, you could have swapped the children for wine. Daniel would have come home to a couple of screamers, and no wine to calm his nerves.’

Helen sat up. ‘Now I know where Kate got her sense of humour. You’re wicked, aren’t you?’

‘Your mother certainly thought so. I teased her mercilessly right to the . . . right to the end. But she always got me back while she was younger and fit. Not straight away, because her
revenge needed to be a surprise or a shock. I got into bed one night and put my whole weight on a whoopee cushion. She leapt out and sprayed the whole room with good perfume.’

But Helen was deep in thought. ‘I’ll never trust him again, you see. If he talked me round and got me home, I’d be on pins every time he went away. Well, I can’t live
like that. I’m an all-or-nothing person. So even if or when I stop being angry, his chances of getting me back are non-existent.’ She sighed heavily. ‘But I have my children.
He’ll never take them away from me. And I have sufficient money to buy my own house, but that’s a secret between you, Kate and me. Ian too, when I see him.’

‘Richard will help you. I know he specializes in crime, but he’ll know someone who does matrimonial stuff. That’s a good man with a good wife. You deserve someone more stable
and reliable than Pope.’

‘He’ll come here,’ she whispered.

‘I know.’

She kissed her father’s forehead. ‘I must go and make peace with my sister.’

‘Good idea.’

He let the dog in. ‘Sit.’

Storm sat.

‘More rules, sorry. You don’t go near babies. They’re little and kept in boxes. They smell of three things in which you take enthusiastic interest – milk, urine and
faeces. All right?’

‘Woof.’

‘Don’t scratch your ear when I’m talking to you. Sarah’s the bigger one, and isn’t usually in a box. Don’t hurt her.’

‘Woof.’

Storm’s learning curve was erratic. It wasn’t so much a curve as the temperature chart at the bottom of a bed containing a very sick person. A rather zigzag affair, it was, since
Storm seemed to learn in fits and starts. He remained clumsy; it was hard to believe that he had just four feet, since he stumbled frequently over something invisible, and never failed to look back
at whatever it wasn’t.

But Storm had brought life into the house. And now there were no spare bedrooms, because— The phone rang. Andrew picked it up. ‘Yes?’

‘Where’s my wife?’

Andrew winked at the dog. ‘I haven’t anybody’s wife here, sorry.’ He pressed the off switch and, when it rang again, answered it for a second time. ‘Oh, it’s
you, Daniel. What? Helen? No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize your voice – did you ring a few seconds ago? . . . What? Helen’s with her sister as far as I know.’ He
paused and held the receiver away from his ear. The man was ranting like a lunatic. ‘All your clothes, Daniel? I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sound like my daughter . . .’

‘It sounds like your other one, though.’

‘Kate? No, she’s all wind and water . . . She what? Oh, hang on a minute, Daniel. Kate throwing wine away? That would be like separating her from her breath.’ Again he held the
phone at a distance. ‘No, Daniel, no. Separating my older daughter from her breath would not be a good thing. Her husband has friends in high and low places.’

Daniel moved up a gear. ‘I was having a massage. Mariella calls everyone darling.’

‘Yes, yes, I’m sure she does.’

‘I am a faithful man, sir.’

Andrew tut-tutted into the phone. ‘I hope you crossed your fingers when you told that whopper, mate. You’ve had a go at Kate, some friends, and a girl who was serving the food. And
that was just one function. I understand this much – my Katie knows people. She has this ability to see inside, got it from her mother. Kate never liked you. Said your birth certificate was a
waste of ink and paper, and you should be charged for oxygen.’

‘I’ll do her for slander.’

‘Will you? She’s married to a top barrister. Now, go to bed and leave me alone.’ He switched off the phone.

Applause from the doorway made him turn. ‘Stay,’ he told the dog, who took no notice whatsoever and bounded over to the two girls, who bent to pet him. After all the untruths like
‘Good dog’, and ‘Who’s a lovely boy?’ the girls came into the room. ‘So he’s looking for her?’ said Kate.

‘And you. He thinks you did all the damage.’

Kate shook her head. ‘No, it was madam here. She was bloody magnificent.’

Andrew cleared his throat. ‘Don’t swear in front of Storm. He has enough bad habits as it is.’

Helen dug her sister in the ribs. ‘See? I told you your warped humour’s inherited. Daddy never spoke a great deal, but every sentence was a killer.’ She sat on the floor.
‘What have I done, Storm? What have I done?’ The dog licked her face till she giggled. ‘Such a soppy article you are.’

‘Why the dog?’ Kate asked.

‘It dashed in during a thunderstorm, undernourished and afraid. It stayed. Eva wasn’t best pleased, but I’ve never seen her best pleased. And what we have here is just seven
months’ worth. God knows how tall he’ll be full grown. I wonder if we could get his legs shortened?’

Kate shook her head. ‘The NHS won’t touch it, so you’d have to go BUPA. Is Storm a member?’

‘No, but I did a good job on the vet, so I play on his gratitude. What do you think? Three inches?’

Helen sighed. ‘I have a dead mother, two daughters and no son, an errant soon to be ex-husband, and the father from hell.’ She looked hard at him. ‘She is definitely your
daughter.’

Kate hooted with laughter. ‘Listen who’s talking. You might be slow to boil, but once you get there, you are bloody dangerous.’

‘No swearing,’ mouthed Andrew silently while pointing to the dog. He raised his voice to normal level. ‘I have to say, Helen, that the destruction of good wine is sacrilege.
But he deserved it. Right. Toast and drinking choc with squirty cream, or double brandies all round?’

They opted for toast and chocolate squirties. Helen needed her thinking head, while Kate wanted to sleep without the promise of a headache in the morning. ‘Did you text Sofia?’ Kate
asked.

‘Yes. She’s going to pick up her things tomorrow and get a taxi to here. Thank goodness her English is a sight better than my Polish. She says she isn’t afraid of him, but she
might put 999 on speed dial. Lovely girl. She’s marvellous with the children.’ Tears threatened, and she blinked them away. ‘Oh Kate. I am so going to miss the man I thought I
had.’

‘I know. But you needed to find out for yourself, love. If I’d told you during your pregnancy or just after Cassie’s birth . . . unfortunately, you got the awful truth while
you’re still weakened anyway. Look at me, babe. I know you love your job, but get a portfolio. You should be on the front of magazines.’