Tamara's Début   Part Nineteen   by Shiraz

 
 
Monday 8th December continued
 

Whoever was outside was having trouble with their key and resorted to banging on the door. Richard opened it to investigate but the front door swung fully open revealing a soaked Tara, rain water visibly dripping off her nose.

She was carrying a small case and clearly had not expected to find anyone in the house, or that the lock had been changed in her absence. Richard and Tara looked at one another for a few seconds waiting for the other to speak, Tammy and Angela were standing behind Gerald: Tammy could feel the tension so moved forward.

“Hello, Mum.”

“Who? Tom? Why? Richard, did you do this?”

“Mum, my legal name is now Tamara so please call me that. Dad has done nothing to cause this, he’s just been very supportive.”

Richard decided he needed to take control. “Tara, either stay there or come in. Whichever you choose I’m closing this door to keep the rain out and the warmth in.”

Richard’s wife moved through the doorway and put her case on the floor in front of her; a puddle started to form underneath it. She now looked at the others stood in the hallway, starting with the other male. “Who are you?”

“Mrs Smart, my name is Gerald Watson. I am your husband’s solicitor.”

She then stared at Angela. “What are you?”

“Mum, that is not a nice way to treat a guest. She is my friend Angela and is at the same school as me.”

“I want you out of my house, all of you. I’ve had a bad enough day already and I don’t want to be disgraced by boys in skirts and an ex-husband who is no doubt doing this to get at me. Get out now!”

Gerald approached Tara and looked her straight in the eye. “Mrs Smart, this house has never belonged to you and is now owned by your daughter. I have the legal documents here if you wish to see them.”

“WHAT! Get out of my way. I don’t have a daughter, and if that’s what he’s become I don’t want a son either.”

She made a lunge for Tammy but slipped on the damp floor and ended up sprawled on the parquet tiling. She yelped in pain as she landed then found she couldn’t put any weight on her left foot. Despite her attitude issue Richard and Gerald helped her to her feet, removed her sodden jacket, and took her into the lounge, depositing her on the sofa. Tammy moved to check her mother’s ankle. “Keep away from me!”

“Mum, right now you’re in no position to command anything. I can either look at your ankle to see how bad it is or you can fester in your own self-pity, in which case I’ll happily call a taxi for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare?”

“Wouldn’t I? The last person to cross me ended up in a police cell and was almost certainly due to be taken in front of a magistrate this morning. You might be my mother but you’ve hardly been an inspiration to me.”

“You can’t talk to me like that, Tom.”

“Firstly, yes I can, and secondly, it appears that I need to remind you I’m now called Tamara, although I prefer Tammy. I’m sure Dad also has the legal paperwork for that somewhere, even my driving licence agrees with me. If you hadn’t noticed, it was my eighteenth birthday at the beginning of September, that removes several, if not all, of your rights over me.”

Tara began to cry, she hadn’t expected any of this and was having difficulty coming to grips with it. She had understood that Richard and her son were in Scotland, so hadn’t any inkling that the house would be occupied. Whilst she was sobbing Tammy removed her left shoe and knee-high stocking. Her ankle was blue and purple, much more bruising than could be explained from her fall a few minutes ago.

Richard showed some concern. “Tara, how did you do that?”

“I was in an accident this morning.”

“What sort of accident?”

“A car accident, I was on my way here, we went the wrong way round the roundabout by Brent Cross.”

Tammy got suspicious. “In a red Ferrari?”

“Yes——hmmmm, NO.”

“Tara, you said ‘we’, who was with you?”

“Nobody, Richard, I was on my own.” Just then her mobile started ringing. No number was shown, so she answered carefully. “Hello?” She waited, listening, before speaking again. “So when can I see him?” There was another pause. “Okay, I’ll be there at seven.” She killed the call.

“Tara, I guess that was the hospital that your driver is in. You never liked to drive sports cars, but I know you’d always let someone take you for a ride. What’s his name?” Richard was good at getting information.

“Freddy.”

“Now, Tara, if you’ll calm down we’ll organise some tea. Do you want to have that ankle looked at?”

“It’s been examined already, but they didn’t give me anything for the pain, mind you it wasn’t hurting much then: it is now though.”

“Right, I’m sure we can find some aspirin. We might be able to sort something else, as well. The only question is, are you going to be civil to your daughter and her friend?”

“I still don’t like this.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“If you mean not shouting and screaming, I can manage that. What’s the alternative?”

“Tammy will call that taxi.”

“Richard, I will get everything you own for this, you know that?”

“Tara, we’ll talk when you’re capable of listening. Tammy, could you make a pot of tea?”

“Yes, Dad.” They left the room: Tammy and Angela went to the kitchen, Richard and Gerald to the dining room, leaving Tara on her own to argue with herself.

“Richard, this changes things somewhat but please don’t make any sudden decisions or accusations. Either Tara will tell us here or in court, if it gets that far.”

“Court?”

“If she was the passenger in a case of dangerous driving then she could be called as a witness, she would have to give her account of the accident, including the reason for the journey and her relationship with the driver.”

“I see, can we get anything from the Metropolitan Police?”

“I wouldn’t have thought so, Richard, we can only monitor it as and when the case goes to court. Of course the press might dig something up.”

“Okay. What do we do about her tonight?”

“That’s your decision. Obviously you will be uncomfortable with either option but putting her out would not be in your favour at a later date, do you have a spare room she could use?”

“Yes, the small room. She probably won’t like it though.”

Tammy returned, having heard the last exchange. “The tea’s on the way. D’you want me to make the bed? Perhaps we could also ask the girls to come over?”

“If you mean Andrea and Alison? Yes to both.”

Tammy returned to the kitchen and used her mobile to call Alison. Quickly, she explained the problem and invited them for dinner before heading upstairs, leaving Angela to fill the teapot. Tammy was back a few minutes later but said nothing to her mum. Angela had, in the meantime, distributed tea to everyone. Tara was alone once again.

Tammy and Angela joined the two men in the dining room: Gerald was speaking quietly to Richard, who was typing a statement about that afternoon’s unheralded arrival, which he faxed to Gerald’s office, giving it a date and time stamp, before giving Gerald a printed copy.

The next time any of them went to check on Tara, she’d fallen asleep, the cup of tea virtually untouched. Tammy headed to the kitchen, dragging Angela with her. It was clear to Tammy that Angela didn’t know how to cook, beyond switching on the kettle and burning toast. Tammy however had often cooked for her father, for her mother as well—but less often. Given that dinner was going to be a moveable feast—literally—she switched on the oven and started a casserole, knowing that it could be easily kept warm. Angela was tasked with chopping vegetables, starting with onions.

“My eyes!”

“You’ll get used to it, but don’t put your fingers in your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just don’t. Wash your hands in the bathroom, I’m using the sink in here for cleaning the spuds. Splash some cold water on your face, it’ll help.”

Angela was back a few minutes later and seemed to cope better, successfully managing, somehow, not to cut herself.

An hour had passed when the doorbell rang. Thinking the girls had already managed to get across London, Tammy went straight to the door. She opened it to find two police officers standing in the rain.

“Hello, Miss, could you tell me if Mrs Tara Smart lives here?”

“Yes, she’s my mother, she’s just returned from Switzerland.”

“We’d like to speak to her.”

Her father, Gerald and Angela all appeared in the hallway behind her, Richard spoke: “What’s this about officer? I’m Richard Smart.”

“It concerns a road traffic accident, Sir, but I’m afraid that’s all I can say until we’ve spoken to Mrs Smart. Is she here?”

“Yes, she’s in there,” he pointed at the drawing room door, “asleep.” They wiped their feet on the mat and came in from the inclement weather. An offer of tea was declined as they entered the drawing room, closing the door behind them.

“Dad, what do you think is up?”

“Tammy, I’d rather not jump to any conclusions right now. Gerald, what’s your view?”

“Richard, the same. The offer of tea sounds inviting though.”

“Didn’t you have another appointment?” Tammy asked.

“Not for another hour, my original plan was to get back to my office first. Unfortunately I feel you may need some of my help here before the afternoon’s out. I’ll not charge for the hour on condition that you can supply anther decent cup of tea.”

“Deal.” The smell of the casserole was filling the air as the group sat in the dining room, wondering what was going on in the drawing room. Suddenly the doorbell rang, Richard decided he should open the door this time.

“Hi, Richard.”

“Hi, Richard, how are you?”

“Come in, girls, we’re in the dining room.” Alison and Andrea put their umbrellas down as the entered the house and followed Richard.

“Tammy!”

Tammy jumped up and ran towards the girls, giving them both a hug. Andrea noticed Angela, sat in a corner. “Hello, I’m Andrea, have we met?” Angela didn’t say a thing, she was definitely not comfortable with the idea of strangers, having two police in the house was bad enough. Tammy intervened. “Girls, this is Angela. She’s in the same year as me at St Andrew’s.”

“Hi, Angela.” This time it was in stereo, Angela started to cry. Tammy moved towards her but Andrea took over.

Alison took Tammy to one side. “So tell me, Tammy, what’s the latest in your life? Found a boy yet?”

“Of course not. I’m not ready for that yet.” Richard had overheard that remark and coughed loudly. “In any case, it looks like my Dad wants to check out any potential boyfriends.”

That had Gerald laughing and had also brought a smile to Angela, who by now was more comfortable with Andrea. Tammy went through the five minute update, finishing with Tara and her visitors.

“You mean they’re still here?”

“Yep.”

“What about her ankle?”

“She’s been asleep, so we haven’t checked it for a couple of hours.”

She had hardly finished speaking, when one of the police officers came out of the drawing room. “Excuse me, but Mrs Smart is complaining about her ankle. Are you aware about this?”

“Yes, she slipped on her way in but the bruising was more severe than if it was just from her fall. These two ladies are hospital nurses, so I’m sure they could offer any medical advice.”

“I’m afraid we’d need her to be seen by the FME¹ at the station.”

Richard spoke, “The station? Why would that be?”

“I’m afraid I can’t go into that.”

“But, she’s my wife.”

“Unfortunately she’s told us that you’ve separated. We have some questions for her that we weren’t able to ask earlier on account of her not waiting for us at Chase Farm Hospital; that’s all I can say I’m afraid. She’ll be at Edgware Police Station for a while, the doctor will check Mrs Smart before we interview her again.”

Richard decided there was little point in continuing the discussion so just stood there as Tara was helped out of the house by the policemen, her only protection from the rain was the still-damp jacket she’d been wearing. The police car was parked further along the street, out of sight of the front door. He noted that they had left her case in the hallway, in fact they’d not asked about it.

“Gerald, is there anything we can do?”

“I’ll give her solicitor a call. I know Terry quite well, we belong to the same golf club.”

“Small world isn’t it?”

“For the legal profession it is.”

Gerald made a call on his mobile then left with the many documents. The four girls moved to the kitchen where Tammy was finalising the casserole; she'd just put the new potatoes and fresh vegetables in the steamer.

Richard went to his office and set about filing the new documents, this would take a while as he also wanted to scan several of them into his computer then upload them to a server.

Back in the kitchen Angela was being questioned, gently, by Alison and Andrea. Tammy warned them to go easy on her, given Angela’s short existence. Of course, plans were made for the following day, Tuesday, as Alison wasn’t working.

“Just my luck,” Andrea was not pleased. “I landed a training course that’ll keep me busy all day. Alison’s is next week.”

“What’s it for?” Tammy tried to sound interested.

“Infection control—all about stopping the spread of winter flu.”

“Oh. I didn’t think that was a problem this year.”

“It isn’t right now, but it will be if we don’t keep the standards up.”

That last comment killed the conversation, Tammy stood and checked the dinner, then turned off the oven.

“Not long now. We’ll eat in here, there’s room for five around the table. Angela, can you give it a wipe, Alison, there are place mats over there,” Tammy pointed at the dresser, “Andrea the cutlery is in the left hand drawer.”

Tammy picked up five plates and popped them in the oven to warm them, then she walked to her father’s office to give him a five-minute warning. Back in the kitchen she served the meal, one idea had been to open a bottle of Merlot but she knew that anything could happen that evening and they all needed to keep a clear head.

Tammy’s concern was valid but nothing of note did happen. Andrea and Alison left just before nine and the others went to bed an hour later, having run out of conversation and energy.

 
 
Tuesday 9th December
 

Tuesday morning started grey, sleet was forecast but didn’t appear. The rain, however, was cold, driven by a stiff breeze.

“Dad, what are we going to do today?”

“Tanya is coming over to see me in an hour, otherwise it’s a clear day.”

“I’d like to take Angela to Brent Cross, but I’m a bit worried about mum—perhaps I should stay here, just in case?”

“Tammy, I’ll speak to Gerald. He might have some news by now from your mother’s solicitor. One thing is that she would have been home last night if it was a minor issue. There’s nothing either of us can do, so how about you and Angela heading down there on the tube? Angela can borrow my Oyster card—yours is probably in your room. I don’t think you took it to Scotland?”

“It wouldn’t be much use up there! I’ll get Angela ready, she still needs help choosing clothes. I’ll let Alison know the plan.”

“Fair enough, I’ll get some coffee going.”

An hour later, just before ten, Angela and Tammy headed out into the foul weather. Given the strong breeze it was pointless to take an umbrella so they used hooded coats, Tara had left a couple in her wardrobe that fitted the two girls. Conversation was impossible until they reached Edgware Underground Station.

“Angela, take this card. I think there’s plenty of credit on it.”

“What is it?”

“An Oyster card, you have heard about them, haven’t you?”

“No, I’ve never been to London before.”

Tammy quickly explained the prepay card and showed Angela how to open the gate by tapping the card on the yellow pad. They headed onto the platform, this was yet another new experience.

“Tammy, I can see Brent Cross on the Underground map.”

“That's right, but it’s not in the shopping centre and there’s a major road in the way can’t get to the shopping centre directly by Tube so we’ll change at Brent Cross and take a bus. It’s near the same area where we turned around yesterday morning.”

Angela found it rather strange on the Northern Line train. Tammy had insisted on a skirt again so, under Tammy's advice, she sat with her knees together trying not to look at the other passengers sitting opposite her. The line was mostly in a cutting although there were sections that were fully underground. Angela spent her time staring at the tube map, counting down the stations. Angela leaned over the whisper in Tammy's ear.

“That guy keeps looking at me, he must think I’m weird.”

“No more weird that half of the other passengers who use the Tube, there are people who spend the whole day going round and round the Circle Line.”

“Oh.”

They exited at Brent Cross station and walked off the platform, up the stairs and into the ticket hall.

"Put the card on that yellow pad and walk through the gate when it opens.”

Tammy’s phone buzzed, there was a text from Alison offering her apologies and wishing Tammy good luck for her appointment the following day. Outside they found a red number 210 bus and took it for the short ride to the front of the shopping centre. Tammy was in her element here, she knew her way through the different levels, but first took Angela to Fenwicks, where she spoke to an assistant in the hat department.

“Excuse me but my friend needs a new wig, do you have something in a brunette, about shoulder length?”

The assistant looked at Tammy then at Angela, who was convinced in her mind that they’d be sent away.

“Real hair or artificial?”

“Real, please.”

The assistant walked across to a cupboard and opened it. She selected three brunette wigs and brought each to the counter.

“Would you like to try them?” She pointed at an area shielded by a curtain. Both girls entered, each carrying one wig, still atop its plastic head.

Neither of the first two wigs suited Angela so Tammy went back for the third. This one was shorter than the others, finishing several inches above her shoulders. It did, however, suit her. They walked back to the counter.

“That looks perfect, Miss. Would you like to wear it?”

Angela nodded while Tammy handed over her debit card with her father’s shareholder discount card. The assistant took both without a second glance and processed the sale. Angela’s eyes opened wide when she saw the price. The assistant handed the cards back to Tammy then boxed the head before handing that to Angela.

As they walked away towards Angela decided she had a long list of questions. Tammy led her to the café, Angela sat, sweeping her skirt under her then pushing the hair from her eyes. She wasn’t even aware what she’d done. Angela’s confidence had also just risen another notch—she had seen nothing of the former schoolboy in the mirror a few minutes earlier.

Tammy organised coffee and pastries for them, returning to find Angela smiling broadly.

“What’s up with you?”

“Thank you.” Angela got up and walked over to Tammy where she kissed her friend’s cheek before returning to her seat.

“Wow, you must really be grateful.”

“I am, you’ve allowed me to realise my dream. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

She started sobbing gently. This time it was Tammy’s turn to get up and walk round the table.

“Angela, you are going to ruin your make-up. Don’t cry, just enjoy this.” Tammy gave her a kiss on her cheek, returning the favour, and returned to her seat to drink her coffee.

Ten minutes later they both had crumbs around their lips, as well as on their laps. As soon as the last of the coffee had been downed, Tammy pulled Angela into the nearby loo.

“We’re going to be hitting the shops hard so have a wee before you redo your face.”

Angela did as she was told. A few minutes later she was standing in front of the mirror applying fresh mascara and lipstick.

Tammy commented on how well she’d done it. “You’re learning fast, but keep it simple.”

Then they made their way around the stores, collecting clothes, shoes and bags. What stopped them, eventually, was they’d run out of hands to carry the bags. Travelling back on a bus was ceasing to be a sensible option. Tammy went to a nearby cash-point to withdraw some cash.

They started walking towards the taxi rank at the front of the mall. They were just short of the glass doors when there was a shout behind them. A man with a swarthy Mediterranean appearance was being chased by two policemen. Tammy had two choices at this point, and she knew which one to use.

She ushered Angela to one side, leaving her own bags with her friend; she then took up position between the pursued man and the automatic doors. The police officers were gaining but she knew they’d never catch him before he left the building. As he approached, Tammy moved forward, forcing him to her left towards a patch of floor marked by a ‘Caution, cleaning in progress’ sign.

As soon as he set foot on the wet patch, his feet slid from under him and he landed hard on the floor in obvious pain. When the officers reached Tammy, she recognised one of them from the previous evening.

“Hello again, Miss. Thank you, but I think that was rather foolhardy.”

“Perhaps, but I figured you were chasing him for a reason and were going to lose him if he made it through the door.”

“As I said, Miss, you could have been hurt. He’s not a nice man, we’ve been looking for him since he assaulted a nurse and a police officer at Chase Farm Hospital. I must admit that he ran well for a man who’d been in a car crash.”

While the officer was talking, his colleague cuffed the man. Other officers had also now arrived to take him to a waiting van. Tammy was, of course, asked to give them her personal details. Angela just stood there—open mouthed.

Tammy grabbed her bags and urged Angela to follow her through the doors. They landed in the back of a Hackney cab before Angela could ask anything. However, Tammy would answer no questions during the fifteen minute taxi ride back to the house.

Tammy's key was somewhere in the bottom of her bag so she rang the bell; as Richard opened the door they burst into the house with the many bags, relieved to be back. Richard closed the door and turned towards the girls, Tammy saw his face and dropped the bags, signalling to Angela to do likewise. Both took off their borrowed coats as Richard ushered them into the sitting room.

“Tammy, apparently your mother’s going to be charged with a serious offence. I can’t imagine for one minute she’s actually guilty but the main suspect is missing. Apparently he’s dangerous.”

“Dad, I’ve a feeling we met him.”

“When?”

“Twenty minutes ago, at Brent Cross.”

“What?”

“There was this man—swarthy, so he could have been Italian or whatever. Anyway, he tried to run away and I stopped him.”

“You WHAT?”

“I blocked him so he slipped.”

“Tammy, was that sensible? I mean, you could have got hurt.”

“That’s what the policeman said. He was one of the coppers who was here last night.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Look, it’s the middle of the afternoon and I bet you haven’t had any lunch?”

“Err, no.”

“There’s some fresh bread and chilled soup in the kitchen, can you sort that out?”

“Sure, have you had anything to eat yourself?”

“Not yet, talking to Gerald about Tara took longer than I expected, and then I had to deal with another police officer who called here - this is getting very serious."

Tammy suggested to Angela that she should take the bags upstairs while Tammy headed into the kitchen to start the late lunch.

While the soup was warming she returned to her father.

“Dad, how serious is it?”

“From what Gerald tells me, it seems that HM Customs & Excise are now involved. He doesn’t know the details as her solicitor hasn’t said much so far, but he’s offered me a few guesses based on the way the police are handling the case. An hour ago her suitcase was collected from here and I was asked if anyone had opened, or even touched it. The officer who was here put on a pair of gloves before he took it and then asked me for my fingerprints, for elimination he claimed. I phoned Gerald straight away.”

“What did he say?”

“To co-operate, nothing more.”

“Oh.”

Tammy returned to the kitchen and served the three bowls of soup.

After the late lunch the two girls went upstairs to pack their cases. Richard returned to his office, apparently unaware that Angela was now wearing a wig.

The girls spent several hours upstairs, Tammy giving lessons on clothing and make-up. By six both were worn out and Tammy headed downstairs.

“Dad, what about dinner?”

“I though we could have a Ruby?”

“Sure, who do I call?”

“How about the Raj?”

“What on earth’s a Ruby?” asked a confused-looking Angela.

“A Ruby Murray.”

“I still don’t understand; you seem to be talking in riddles.”

“It’s rhyming slang for curry.”

Angela seemed even more confused, which prompted a few more examples of rhyming slang, mostly clean ones. Eventually she returned to her next question.

“So, who was Ruby Murray?”

“A singer and actress from Belfast.”

That of course added no sense to the conversation.

Tammy had warmed three plates by the time the delivery arrived, although there was a distinct danger of indigestion by the time they had finished. Angela was the first victim, having not realised how spicy it was. She was questioned by Richard as she left the table.

“Angela, I get the feeling you look different?”

Tammy intervened, “Dad, hadn’t you noticed?”

“No, what is it?”

“Doh!”

The table descended into near chaos as Richard finally worked out what Angela was wearing. Finally, they all headed up the apples and pears for a shower before bed, knowing there would be an early start the following day.

(1) Force Medical Examiner (Police doctor)