Rosie was stepping from one foot to another to keep herself warm. Both of her hands were placed, palms up, underneath the cardboard box containing the leek and potato pie that Agnes had just made. It smelt delicious and she could feel the warm pastry through the bottom of the box.
The fret from the North Sea was just beginning to creep into the large gaping mouth of the River Wear and make its way inland. As Rosie tried to calm her growing nerves she could feel the beginnings of a fine drizzle on her face.
She had left the Elliots’ ten minutes ago and had now been waiting for another ten for DS Miller to show himself. She was standing a little way along the quayside, not far from the ferry landing so that she could catch him leaving the police cabin up by the Sea Lock at the end of his day shift. She knew his routine and that he rarely went home before the start of his evening civil defence duties, preferring to go to the police headquarters in town to grab a cup of tea and a sandwich from the canteen and catch up with his former colleagues.
‘Night all, see you in the morning.’ Rosie heard the familiar sound of Peter’s voice as he said his farewells to the other two police officers she knew worked the docks.
She squinted through the darkness and could just about make out the familiar outline of DS Miller’s overcoat, which always flapped about as he never seemed to button it up, and his distinctive trilby hat. She watched as his darkened silhouette stepped out of the cabin and he closed the door shut behind him.
Rosie couldn’t wait for him to reach her, so she started walking towards him.
‘Hi Peter,’ she spoke out into the darkness, the drizzle now starting to dampen the cardboard box she was carrying in front of her. She tried to force her voice to sound normal – nonchalant, even.
The surprise on the detective’s face said he had not been expecting to see Rosie again, and his look was not one of joy.
‘Ah, Rosie. How are you?’ Peter still managed to sound professional, if not entirely friendly.
Rosie felt the smile she had forced to put on her face wane. This was not like Peter. The only time he had ever talked to her like this – so official and formal – was when she had first met him, almost exactly a year ago, the night he had knocked on her bedsit door and told her that her uncle’s bloated body had been pulled out of the River Wear.
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Rosie said, trying to match his formal tone.
She took a deep breath and straightened her back. ‘The reason I’ve come to see you is to give you this present of thanks from the Elliots –’ she put her arm out to hand him the pie ‘– one of Agnes’s home-made specialities.’
On seeing the gift, DS Miller’s face softened.
‘Oh, she shouldn’t have,’ he said looking at the proffered box.
‘To quote the family,’ Rosie continued, now just wanting to end this awkward meeting, ‘… “it’s the very least we can do to show how truly thankful we all are for your help in finding Pearl.” There,’ Rosie added, pushing the box into DS Miller’s hands so that he had to take the pie from her, ‘… the message has been delivered, word for word – as well as the present.’
Rosie turned to go. She knew when she was not wanted. Peter clearly was not exactly overjoyed at seeing her; that was for sure.
‘So,’ DS Miller’s voice sounded panicky and he stretched his arm out to grab the woman he loved, but stopped himself. ‘Is Pearl all right?’
Rosie looked at Peter. He was treating her like she was a complete stranger. Still, what should she have expected? She knew she had hurt him – deeply – when she had told him she did not want him. Of course, he was hardly going to be full of the joys of spring. But still, she felt there was something else going on underneath the surface.
‘Pearl appears to have made a full recovery,’ Rosie explained. ‘She seems to be pretty much back to her normal self.’ Rosie wanted to add that she was not sure whether that was necessarily a good thing.
‘Actually, her brush with death seems to have given her a new lease of life,’ Rosie added, thinking of seeing her this evening in her new black dress and how sprightly she was.
‘Often the case,’ he nodded, sagely.
DS Miller had picked up little bits of information about what had happened at the wedding, which had precipitated Pearl’s disappearance.
‘I suppose, being reunited with her daughter as well …’ he added, not needing to finish the sentence.
DS Miller actually knew more about the child Pearl had given up than Rosie realised. On the night Rosie had asked for his help and he had organised a search party, he had heard through the young uniformed officer he had sent to the Elliots all about the very beautiful and dark-skinned long-lost daughter called Maisie. DS Miller was not easily shocked, but he had been really quite flabbergasted by the coincidence that the stunning, mixed-race woman he had seen coming out of the house in Ashbrooke was the very same person who had revealed herself to Pearl at Bel’s wedding.
‘And everyone else well?’ he asked. Rosie had caught him by surprise by turning up like this. ‘Your girls?’
Rosie turned back, hearing the change in his voice. She looked him in the eye. Something was up and she didn’t have a good feeling.
DS Miller returned Rosie’s look and held it.
‘I mean, your women welders … of course,’ he added.
‘Of course …’ Rosie repeated. The bad feeling in her gut was getting worse. ‘They’re all good.’
‘And Gloria? Is she keeping well?’ The concern in DS Miller’s voice was genuine. He’d not heard of Vinnie kicking off again, but that was not to say he hadn’t. If he had, it was unlikely that the police would have been informed.
Rosie felt herself relax a little.
‘Oh, she’s good. She’s had the baby. Actually, she’s having her christened at St Ignatius’s on Saturday. Dorothy, who Gloria asked to be the godmother, has nagged her into submission.’
‘That’s great news.’ He paused, then added, ‘I’m guessing you’re going – you and all your squad?’
Rosie nodded.
‘And her ex, Vinnie, he’s not been causing her any more trouble?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘Not as such, but I don’t think he’s best pleased that Gloria’s not letting him see the baby. She’s just keeping her fingers crossed he doesn’t get to hear about the christening until after the event. I think that’s why Gloria’s organised it at such short notice.’
DS Miller took in Rosie’s words and sighed inwardly. Men like Vinnie never changed.
They both stood awkwardly for a moment, neither of them saying anything. Rosie so wanted them to start walking together, as they had done so many times before, and go to Vera’s café and sit and chat.
But that was in the past. There was no going back.
Rosie looked at DS Miller’s face. He looked like he was going to say something.
‘Well, I better get going,’ she said. As she turned and started to walk away, she heard DS Miller speak again.
‘I know,’ he said simply.
He hadn’t been going to tell her, but the words just came out without thinking. It was as if he needed her to know.
After the night he’d seen her going into the house in Ashbrooke, it hadn’t taken him long to find out what was really going on in there. He was a copper, after all. Had been a detective for longer than he cared to think. And it hadn’t taken a genius to work it out, especially when he had gone round the back lane and found the ‘other’ entrance to the property that he now knew went by the name Lily’s.
Rosie froze.
He knew? What? About her other life? Her other girls?
Had her worst nightmare just become reality?
‘What do you mean, you “know”?’ As she spoke Rosie turned around slowly.
Now it was her turn to sound a little hostile.
DS Miller walked towards Rosie – the woman who had stolen his heart, ripped it up and then thrown it away. He had been so pig-headed in his determination to find out her secret. To solve the puzzle. To find out the real reason she wouldn’t be with him. Now his curiosity was satiated. But, how he wished he could turn back the clock and could have just let it be. Sometimes ignorance was bliss.
‘I know about Lily’s,’ he said. His voice was flat and didn’t give away any kind of emotion.
Rosie felt the bottom fall out of her world. It was what she had dreaded more than anything since the moment she realised she was falling in love with him.
For a second she felt sick. Nauseous. Afraid. Ashamed. Annoyed. Angry. All at once. All together.
She had worked so hard – had made so many sacrifices – to make sure this moment never happened.
But it had.
He knew the truth about her.
She had come to deliver a pie – had stupidly been excited about seeing him – and now her life, her livelihood, and that of those she loved, was under threat of being blown up right in front of her.
Immediately her thoughts went to Charlotte. Not only would she no longer be able to afford her sister’s boarding school fees if she was behind bars, but she also knew the stuck-up head teacher would have her little sister marched out of those school gates quick as a flash if she found out that Charlotte’s benefactor was in prison – and, more so, if she found out why.
Since her uncle Raymond had driven her to the depths of despair and exhaustion, and then nearly killed her, Rosie had worked hard at repairing her life. And over the past year she had not only salvaged it, but built on it, and was now doing extremely well for herself. She was managing the girls rather than working as one, and she also part-owned the business with Lily. She was easily affording to pay Charlotte’s school fees, and was putting money aside for the future. Life was on the up.
Or rather, life had been on the up.
Until now.
Now, her lover had become her enemy. The man who had made her feel so happy and carefree had become a portent of misery – as well as her potential jailer.
Within the blink of an eye, her life – and that of Charlotte and those at the bordello – was in serious jeopardy.
Rosie had to think on her feet – and quickly. It was obvious Peter knew everything. There was certainty in his voice. This was no fishing expedition. He had somehow got to know about her work at Lily’s.
They both stood there. Rosie felt unable to move, never mind explain.
‘So, now …’ DS Miller broke the formidable silence, ‘I find myself in an untenable position.’
Rosie had no idea what ‘untenable’ meant, except that it was not good.
How had he found out? She had a million questions, but she knew that whatever came out of her mouth next was going to be a game changer. If ever there was a time to play her cards right, then this was it.
‘Well,’ she said, trying to be calm and keep her dignity, although she could see the hurt and anger now showing in Peter’s eyes, ‘what does this “untenable” position mean you’re going to do?’
Rosie was stalling for time to think. Panic was starting to surge through every pore. She could feel the drizzle start to become rain. A part of her wanted to sprint to the bordello and warn Lily that Peter knew and that the police could be bashing their door down at any time.
‘To be honest, Rosie …’ Peter said. He looked jaded and a little defeated. The moment had come. He had been dreading it. Truly dreading it. The scene he’d known would have to be played out was now taking place, and it felt more than a little surreal. ‘… I don’t know what I’m going to do.’
And it was true. DS Miller had no idea what he was going to do. Or what would happen next. All he knew was that he felt a degree of relief. Finally, it was out in the open.
‘I know what I should do as someone who enforces the law.’ He didn’t need to say that he should report the bordello to the authorities. That Rosie and Lily should be arrested for running an establishment of ill repute, and, more importantly, a place that was illegal.
‘But,’ he started to waffle, ‘… sometimes it’s hard.’ As the words stuttered out of his mouth, all he could think of was that he didn’t want to be saying this. He had only ever wanted to whisper sweet nothings into this woman’s ear.
Had only ever just wanted to be with her.
God, he had wanted to marry her.
Have her as his. But that dream had been demolished. He had been living in cloud cuckoo land, and now he had been brutally chucked out of the nest and was having to sit up, dazed and confused, and face up to the reality of the situation.
Rosie looked at Peter. Neither of them moved an inch. The rain was getting heavier. Random thoughts went through Rosie’s head: the pie would be getting wet if they stood there much longer. All of Agnes’s hard work for nothing.
Rosie forced her mind back on track. She tried to interpret Peter’s words. She wanted to shake him and ask what he meant. What was he going to do? Did he realise that it wasn’t just her life he would be ruining, but Charlotte’s as well? An innocent in all of this.
Rosie knew that she should tell him about Charlotte. Make him understand – beg him to understand. She should tell him about the events that had brought her to where she was now. Her parents’ deaths. That Charlotte would be sent to an orphanage, or the care home run by the nuns. That she had done what she had done not for her own survival – but to save her sister.
Surely he would understand?
Surely this would stop him reporting her and Lily to the police?
She should throw herself on his mercy. Explain why she had done what she had done. Why she now did what she did.
Rosie opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She tried to say the words, but she couldn’t. Something steely and obstructive inside her was stopping the begging words from coming out. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bow down and beg for mercy. Especially to a man.
Flashes of her uncle Raymond on top of her as she gasped for air, aged just fifteen … Him threatening to do the same to Charlotte if she didn’t let him do what he wanted … The years of working as a girl at Lily’s … Being forced to hand over money in exchange for her uncle’s silence last year … the repeated threat of exposure and, worse still, the unspoken risk he posed to her sister.
And then the moment she’d had her face held over a live weld and nearly died.
No.
She was never going to beg for any man’s mercy.
Never.
Rosie opened her mouth again. ‘Peter,’ she said, without anger or shame, and with not a hint of contrition.
‘You have to do what you think is right. It is your choice. It is your decision what you do. I cannot – will not – do anything to try and stop you or influence you.’
She took a deep breath and spoke the next words with a tremor in her voice.
‘All I want to say to you is that I am sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I was not honest about my other life – but everything else I shared with you was true.’
Peter was standing, rain now dripping down the edges of his trilby. Rosie looked into his eyes and thought she saw tears forming.
‘Most of all, though, I am sorry for lying to you about how I felt. That was the hardest and most painful lie I have ever had to tell, because – and I think deep down you knew this – I did want to be with you … I loved being with you … When you tried to kiss me that evening, I didn’t want to stop you …’
Rosie took a deep breath and told herself to be strong. ‘When I told you that I didn’t want to be with you – that was a lie. I wanted to be with you more than anything – but I knew I couldn’t because of what you have now found out … and so I lied.
‘Peter, do what you have to do. But know that I lied for a reason. I was falling in love with you. And try as I might I have not been able to force myself to fall out of love with you.’
With that, Rosie turned and walked away into the darkness of the night.
And Peter stood, still holding the pie, watching the woman he had also not been able to force himself to fall out of love with, walk away.