‘Where will you take her?’ Tamsyn asked her. ‘If there aren’t any foster-parents?’
‘Are you taking her to a home?’ Kirsten asked, holding a carton of orange juice. ‘Already? But it’s too soon.’
Tess glanced irritably at the girl, and Tamsyn wondered if she really could spot the very large red flags that were popping up all around the room. Kirsten’s interest in the baby had to mean more than she was letting on.
‘To a hospital for a few more days, so her health can be monitored, and then, if we still haven’t had any luck with foster-carers, there are care homes. But it probably won’t come to that, and after all the paperwork’s done we’ll be able to find her a permanent adoptive family easily. There are always people who want to adopt babies.’
‘Whoa, hold on.’ Tamsyn pushed her chair back a little, increasing the distance between Mo and Tess by a few inches, and glancing at Kirsten. ‘We still don’t know that her mother is out of the picture. I know I feel like I’ve been up for a decade, but actually this only happened yesterday. You’re moving too fast. We need to give the mum a chance to think about what’s happened, to realise that things might not be as bad as she thinks they are. We need to give her a chance to come forward and get some help. And what about the TV crew? They’ll want to film Mo, so you can’t take her now.’
‘Of course, we’re still doing all we can to find the mother, and help her if and when she comes forward,’ Tess said. ‘That remains one of our top priorities, but we have to think of all eventualities for Baby.’
‘Mo,’ Tamsyn said firmly. ‘Her name is Mo, and I don’t want you to take her today. I’m not going to let you.’
Tamsyn saw the faintest ghost of a smile on Kirsten’s face as she poured herself a glass of juice. It seemed like this castle was full of young girls who needed someone in their corner. And Tamsyn had been that girl, once; God only knows what would have happened to her if her family and friends had given up on her when she was making terrible choices and getting into all sorts of trouble. Who was doing that job for Kirsten?
There was a pause, and Tess and Sergeant Dangerfield exchanged looks, looks that very much said Tamsyn was getting overemotional. And perhaps she was, but what else was one human being supposed to do when it came to the welfare of another – just shrug and look away? Tamsyn straightened her back and remembered the time that she had to march an internationally renowned supermodel out of the building because she’d threatened one of their dressers with a pair of serrated-edged scissors. She could take down Tess Jameson, no trouble, she told herself.
‘I see you’ve become attached to Baby,’ Tess said, ever so kindly. ‘And that’s lovely, but I have to remind you that you don’t actually have any say over what happens to her.’ Tamsyn felt a cold drench of fury just as Sue walked into the room and leant against the counter, for once remaining silent as she assessed the situation. ‘We temporarily authorised you to care for Baby under exceptional circumstances, but now those circumstances have passed and we are able to take her into our care.’
‘But that makes no sense,’ Tamsyn said. ‘I’ve been looking after Mo for the first twenty-four hours of her life, during which time I’ve pretty much never put her down, and I’ve got the backache to prove it. She knows me. I’m the one that makes her feel safe. I know it’s not my job, I know it can’t be my job for ever, I don’t having any hopes of keeping her. But what I will do, if it is the very last thing I do, is make sure that she feels safe and secure until there is a proper and certain future for her, whenever that may be. Everyone deserves at least that, especially her. And she won’t get it in some plastic crib on a ward in a hospital, no matter how kind the nurses are. And she won’t get that in a children’s home or with foster-carers, who she’ll just start to get to know before you take her away again.’ Tamsyn shook her head resolutely. ‘I’m not letting you take her until you can demonstrate to me that you have a safe, caring and as good as permanent home for her. And that’s after you’ve done everything you can to make sure, first, that there isn’t any hope of her being reunited with her mother.’ She looked at Sergeant Dangerfield. ‘You can arrest me if you like.’
Tamsyn glanced at Sue, who nodded in approval.
‘You see,’ Sergeant Dangerfield said rather gingerly, ‘you don’t actually have any legal right to …’
‘Oh, don’t be so ridiculous, Jeff,’ Sue stepped in. ‘And you, Mrs Jameson. I know you have a difficult job to do, and there are rules and regulations. But look at that baby! She is a little person. A human being, not just a statistic. And more than that, she is a Poldore baby, and I don’t know about you St Austell lot, but in this town we look after our own, including her mother, whoever that may be. You know full well that, if you want to, you can let the baby stay here until either you find her mother or proper arrangements have been made. You just need to extend the temporary care order that was issued for Tamsyn and Jed. It’s easy enough.’
‘We can’t just bend the rules like that,’ Tess insisted. ‘Not even for you, Ms Montaigne. Not for anyone.’
‘It’s always got to be all by the book,’ Kirsten said. ‘Even if the book is full of crap.’
‘Kirsten, I really don’t think you are helping …’
‘She’s right, though. Of course you can bend the rules,’ Sue said briskly. ‘All you have to do is decide to be decent about it. Decide what is really and truly best for the child and act on it. It’s awfully simple if you think about it.’
‘Well, even if that were a possibility,’ Tess argued, ‘I don’t know how long this is going to take. ‘Miss Thorne has been very good about caring for Baby …’
‘Her name is Mo,’ Sue said.
‘Thus far,’ Tess continued, her feathers almost visibly ruffled and puffed out. ‘But I understand that you live and work in Paris, Miss Thorne? Will you still be here next week, or the week after that? Or in a month, if, heaven forbid, it takes that long?’
Tamsyn hesitated, thinking of next year’s Fall collection that needed pulling together, and all the work they had to do to get ready for fashion week in October. Bernard hadn’t even wanted her to come to the wedding at all; he’d been horrified at the idea of her taking a few days’ holiday, especially when he was on the brink of agreeing a highly lucrative deal with a high-street chain to mass-produce a very watered-down range of his clothing. He had only relented because she promised to be constantly at his beck and call when she got back for at least a solid year, including Christmas and New Year. Her life, her exciting, busy, glamorous, cosmopolitan life that she had worked for almost every moment since she was an adult, was in a state of suspended animation, just waiting for her to come back again and step right into the middle of its whirling, wonderful vortex. Annoyingly, Tess Jameson did have a point. How long was she prepared to make this stand?
She hesitated, looking down at Mo, who, having drained the bottle, had pushed the teat out of her mouth and was now sleeping, her tiny profile turned towards Tamsyn, as if she needed reassurance that she was still there. Really, they were nothing at all to do with each other; there was no blood relation, no sense of being beholden or responsibility. Yes, Mo was a Poldore baby, but Tamsyn hadn’t thought of herself as a Poldore woman for a very long time, for quite a long time before she’d actually left if she wanted to be specific, and yet … Every day a great many people knowingly placed their trust in her to do what was right, to get the collections in on time, to make sure the right fabrics were on order, in exactly the right amount, to book models that would show the clothes off in exactly the way Bernard had envisioned them. Hundreds of people made conscious decisions to depend on her. Mo hadn’t had that choice; she hadn’t ever had a moment where she was able to decide to rely on Tamsyn. She simply did, and Tamsyn knew that the baby trusted her, with the simple certainty of a brand-new human. And Tamsyn realised with a sudden and terrifying jolt that, based on their very short acquaintance, she would never betray that trust. She would not let Mo down, no matter what or how long it took, or what it cost her. And she wouldn’t let Kirsten see her walking away from someone who needed her.
‘I’ll be here for her,’ she said. ‘For as long as it takes for you to settle her properly. I won’t go back to Paris until she is taken proper care of.’
‘Come on, Tess,’ Sue said, sitting down and smiling in that frighteningly predatory way she had when she had her target in her sights. ‘Don’t tell me you can’t do a bit of jiggery-pokery and extend that temporary care order? It’s not like Tamsyn is alone, either. You have our vicar here backing her up, and she’s welcome to stay here with us for as long as she needs to. Her sister is a nanny with an NVQ3 in childcare, and I’m a mother of three. Look at Mo, look at her. What do you honestly believe in your heart is the best thing to do for that baby?’
Tess pressed her lips together and squirmed in her seat, Jeff Dangerfield studying the back of his hand with great care, as she thought.
‘Very well,’ Tess said. ‘I’ll extend the temporary care order on a rolling basis with weekly reviews. But she will have to be seen by a GP, not a vet,
today
, in my presence, and I need to see where she is sleeping, go through her feeding regime and make sure you know what you are doing.’
Tamsyn blanched, as she clearly had no idea what she was doing, and they didn’t really have a place to sleep at present, apart from the sofa in the snug, which she suspected wouldn’t qualify.
‘Wonderful,’ Sue said, setting down a huge, thickly filled Victoria sponge in front of Tess. ‘Well, you have a piece of that, and a nice cup of tea, and I’ll just see if Dr Morris can get over from St A’s. He owes me a favour, you know. I lent him one of our cats when his surgery was overrun with rats. You sit tight, and I’ll sort it.’
Sue winked at Tamsyn so dramatically that Tamsyn was sure that Tess, Dangerfield, Kirsten and all of the various dogs at their feet must have noticed it.
‘And while you’re at it, you think about your act for tonight.’
‘My act?’ Tamsyn blinked.
‘Yes, I’m putting on a show, right here,’ Sue said, ‘in the great hall, to cheer everyone up. And also to match people in need with people who can help them. I’m hoping for a bit of a skill swap: carpenters, painters and decorators, that sort of thing.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Tamsyn conceded. ‘Jed’s looking for a stained-glass expert.’
‘Oh well, darling, this
is
Poldore. There’s about ten of those,’ Sue said.
‘And you couldn’t do that without the singing and dancing element?’ Tamsyn asked her, imagining that her mother would insist on doing something from the burlesque-ercise class that she went to for her ‘turn’!
‘Well, I could, Tamsyn,’ Sue said. ‘But seriously, where would be the fun in that?’
‘And that’s where they’re sleeping,’ Sue said, leading Tess and Alex out of her and Mo’s new room, which had materialised quite suddenly in another turret. Comfortably furnished with a double bed, with a little crib next to it, it was situated opposite a bathroom, which Sue assured the social worker would only be used by Tamsyn and Mo. And Tamsyn had to admit, she loved the room, though its velvet curtains were worn and its carpets threadbare in places. If the scent of frenzied Febreze’d vacuuming in the air was anything to go by, it had recently been full of some of Sue’s treasures, but it still had enough glamour about it to make Tamsyn smile.
‘Very nice,’ Tess said, nodding her approval. ‘And even a little fridge and a bottle warmer so you don’t have to go up and down the stairs.’
‘Yes, that’s courtesy of my daughter, Meadow,’ Sue said. ‘She’s very kindly donated you the drinks fridge she has in her room, not that she knows it yet.’
‘And a changing station. You know you mustn’t leave B … Mo unattended on it, don’t you, Tamsyn? Even at a few days old there’s a chance she could wriggle off and hurt herself.’
‘Of course,’ Tamsyn said, although she had known no such thing. As far as she was concerned, Mo might stay just as she was for the next year or so, or start walking any time next Tuesday, the developmental milestones of children and what they should do having so far passed her by, even when she
was
a child.
‘Good,’ Tess said, ‘and the GP’s happy, so I’m happy to go ahead and extend the temporary care order, subject to police checks.’ She paused for a moment, and then rested her hand gently on Tamsyn’s upper arm. ‘I know you want the best for Mo, Tamsyn. But, well, you know you will still have to say goodbye to her at some point. Don’t get too attached.’
‘Excellent,’ Sue said, hooking her arm through the social worker’s and leading her back downstairs. ‘Now tell me, Tess, do you tap-dance?’
Tamsyn waited for them to go, and then sat down on the edge of the once-gilt-framed bed and looked out of the window. A wave of exhaustion engulfed her, and she barely noticed that the pale blue sky was beginning to fill at its edges with dark purple bruises of clouds yet again.
‘Well, Mo,’ she said, placing the slumbering child in the crib and leaning back. ‘We might as well rest our eyes for a minute.’
‘Sis! You’re needed urgently,’ Cordelia burst in through the door, startling Mo and causing her to scream furiously. ‘Oh my God, you’ve got your own room, and it’s much nicer than mine, you bitch!’
‘I’m needed for you to urgently complain to?’ Tamsyn asked her, scooping Mo up in her arms. ‘Nothing changes.’
‘No, not about the room, although, frankly, yes about the room. But there’s a massive emergency going on downstairs, more massive than abandoned babies, historical storms and wrecked churches!’
‘What is it?’ Tamsyn said, concern shaking her awake, and thinking first for some reason about Jed.
‘Alex’s wedding dress? And all the bridesmaids’ dresses?’ Cordelia paused for dramatic effect. ‘Totally ruined!’
Alex was sitting in the old battered armchair in the nook, with Buoy at her side. Sensing her mood, he had rested his head on her thigh as a sign of solidarity, a demonstration that he, a dog who did his level best to avoid a bath more than once every two to three years, totally understood what despondency a set of ruined bridal garments could inspire in a human woman. She wasn’t wailing or crying, nor were there tears, as there had been earlier in St Piran’s. She was just sitting there, slumped, her arm dangling to one side, letting Skipper gently nibble her fingers as if they might be food.