CHAPTER 13
Kim was running out of steam by ten o’clock, so I helped her up the stairs to her room before returning to the living room and Rosie, who was pensive.

“Who the fuck is she, Deb?”

“Someone else who’s had a load of shit, love. Thank your lad for the medicine; I don’t think she’d have survived much longer the way she was going, and the weather”

“Well, what are you going to do with her?”

“Haven’t got a clue. I know she’s had a load of shit from her family, but I have no idea at all if they’re looking for her. I suspect they might have gone down the same road as my biological pair”

“Oh?”

“Once too many times staying away and they, or more probably my father, made it permanent. Disowned me as a fairy and a waste of time, that sort of stuff. I got out of one place and went home, just the once. My mother called the police to take me back”

“Fuck. Any idea how old this one is?”

“Mid teens, I would say. Hard to tell with all that hair she hides under”

“Aye, I noticed that. She’s expecting a slap, any minute”

I just nodded, and Rosie moved over to hug me, such a comfort and something I hadn’t realised I needed so much right then. Pulling my head down to her shoulder, she whispered, to me.

“You see so much of your life in her, don’t you?”

I didn’t trust my voice, so just nodded.

“Well, I’ve got some thoughts, Deb. First thing is to see if anyone is actually hunting her. You happy looking after her for a while?”

“What option does she have? She’ll end up dead if she goes back out there!”

“I know that, but she might not want to stay. You need to let her see what those options really are. Get her settled, get her well, and keep eyes and ears open”

“Yeah… There is someone switched on where I found her. Goes by the name Sparky”

“Heard of him. Ex-Marine, went a bit loopy after the war against the Argies. Hear he can’t stand being indoors. Yeah, he’s sound. I’ll ask the boys to have a word with the working girls, just in case Daddy Dear is doing some kerbcrawling. Where’s Kim from?”

“Pontypridd. I’ve just had another idea, which might be a bad one. When I turned eighteen, Mam and Dad took me to a copshop, and after we had got past all the ‘child absconder’ shite, the cop there seemed a bit switched on. Sympathetic”

“Talking to the Filth? You sure, girl?”

“I think so. If Kim ends up with the wrong lot, we need a way she can get out. Runcorn was enough for me. Not talking to the coppers for a while, though. See where we stand first”

Rosie gave me another squeeze.

“Where’s the kids old clothes?”

“By the back door!”

She grabbed a bit of paper from the table, pulling a pen out of jacket pocket.

“Back in a few. You got a spare pit for me?”

“Of course!”

“Then I have some beers I slipped into your fridge after I got the Chinese. Want one? Then its friends?”

“Go on!”

She returned a minute later, eight cans of bitter and a couple of glasses to hand. As I poured, she asked if she could borrow my phone.

“Rockrose? Wildcat. Can you scare up some kit for me tonight? Speak to Oily; he has sources. I need a pair of para-style boots, size six. Jeans, couple of pairs if you can, size ten long. T-shirts, usual sort, small or medium. If there’s a leather available, same sort of size, but if not, Oily knows where my old stuff is. First thing tomorrow, if you can. Deb’s place. Got all that? No, T-shirts and shit are for a girl. Oh, and a lid, if there’s a spare one. I’d guess about a 54, and some gloves, medium. Ta!”

Click went the phone as she hung up and turned to me with a grin.

“Being the Prez’s Old Lady is handy at times, Deb! Now… that is better. Always get a thirst on with a Chinese, and I didn’t know if your new friend is safe with booze. Only four cans each, so if you fancy it, we’ll take a ride out tomorrow, depending on the weather. Cheers!”

I woke the next morning to the front doorbell and bright sunshine streaming through my curtains. On with my dressing gown and down the stairs, where I found Rosie shutting the door with a call of “Thanks, sis!”

There were several bags in the living room, but Rosie just pushed me straight past them towards the kitchen.

“Kettle on first, woman! Your guest still asleep?”

“Think so. Didn’t hear anything from her room”

“Well, take some of these bags up. I’ll bring the rest”

Once upstairs, I knocked gently on Kim’s door.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in, Kim?”

There was a pause, which worried me more than a little, before a shaky “Yes”. I opened the door, to find her sitting up in her bed, covers drawn up to her chin.

“Got my sister here with me, Kim, with some bits and pieces. We’re going to leave them with you, and if they fit, breakfast is on”

I backed out, shutting the door behind me, and Rosie and I padded back down the stairs. I don’t know why, but it seemed right that we make as little noise as possible, so as to avoid frightening the poor girl. We drank tea, then a cafetiere of proper coffee (Ruth had expanded my tastes rather a lot), and then, as the stairs creaked, Rosie started some bacon frying. Kim appeared at the living room door, a T-shirt reading “Tri Fucking Umph” doing nothing to hide the flatness of her chest.

“You just bought all this for me?”

Rosie called back from the kitchen, as she cracked some eggs into the hot pan.

“No, love. We had a whip-round with our friends. All old stuff, all on loan, really”

“I got to give it all back?”

“No, girl. You use it till it’s worn out, or you find someone else who needs it more than you do. You pass it on, or you give it back so that we can. Now, sit the fuck down so I can get on with brekky. Tea or coffee?”

There was a lot of stuff laid out in the kitchen that I didn’t recall having been in my fridge.

“Rosie?”

“Yeah?”

“You stop at the corner shop when you were getting last night’s Chinese?”

“So I know you well, and I wanted a decent breakfast. Want to make something of it, punk?”

There was an odd noise to my left, and I realised it was actually stifled laughter from Kim. I turned my face towards her.

“You just wait, my girl! Your turn to make breakfast will come! Anyway, how’s that stuff fit?”

“Um, OK. How’d you know what size?”

Rosie came through the door carrying two loaded plates, which she set down before me and Kim.

“Looked at the shit by the back door, girl, and took some guesses about head and feet”

A few seconds later she set her own plate down, and turned back to Kim.

“Breakfast first. If your appetite isn’t up to it, just dump it on our plates”

She started to laugh.

“Debbie?”

“Yeah?”

“Confession time, aye? How many of Fester’s ‘full English’ efforts did you really not fancy? You know: after a heavy night?”

I couldn’t help it, and my own laughter went on for quite a while after a sniggered “Guilty!”. I sneaked a glance at the youngest woman, and there was more animation there than I had seen so far. Rosie hadn’t finished, though.

“Kim?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you feel up to a ride out? Weather’s being kind, so if you feel you can cope, there’s a lid there”

“In the van?”

“Nope. Bikes. You can either sit on my pillion or Deb’s”

“Never been on a motorbike”

I had another moment, remembering Dad and a Triton, the turns at the roundabouts getting tighter and faster… No. I found my smile again.

“I can remember that conversation, when I first met Rosie. You’ll like it, but if you start feeling cold, tell us, and I’ll come back for the van. Don’t expect Rosie will take us that far. Where did you have in mind, love?”

“I was thinking of Southerndown. There’s a pub not far from the beach for a warm drink if it gets too cold. You bringing those bins with you, Deb?”

“Think so. Be a mix of stuff out there. She means binoculars, kid. I like bird watching”

“I don’t know anything about birds”

Rosie laughed again.

“You will do after today, love. Now, Deb? Dishes left to soak and do them later? I did the cooking, and I’ll be shooting straight off after we get back, so there’ll just be the two of you tonight”

Kim jerked at that, and in a very quiet voice asked “How long can I stay?”

I set my fork down, as I mopped up the last bit of mingled egg yolk and bean juice.

“Really? As long as you need to, girl. Which reminds me: I need to go out for an hour or two tonight. Sparky has a load of my cups, and I think I need to let him know you’re OK”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No. I don’t want anyone seeing you in the city with me until I have an idea if anyone’s looking for you. With the lid and scarf, nobody can see your face, so that’s safe. I’ll give you some tights for under your jeans, then it’s boots on and back down here, OK?”

Rosie led me out of Cardiff, Kim perched nervously behind me and hanging onto my waist like grim death. We made our way out to the more open roads, where Rosie gave her bike its head a little more, and I realised she had been taking it easy that the girl could get used to the way things moved. Onto the A48, and a little above legal almost as far as Bridgend, where she turned off south for quieter roads and a last turn into the beach carpark nestled at the mouth of the little valley running down to the shingle of the beach and the layered cliffs of Ogmore. I let Kim step off before settling my bike onto its side stand, and she followed my lead as I removed my helmet and shoo out my hair, another memory emerging, of Rosie telling me in a serious tone about putting my hair inside my jacket if I let it grow long.

Kim was staring around, eyes wide.

“You OK, kid?”

“That was amazing! And this place is gorgeous!”

“Not been here before?”

“No. My family are all…”

She pulled herself up with an obvious shudder.

“My family were all pub and telly. Only time we really went anywhere was to Spain to go on the piss for a fortnight”

She stood in silence for a few seconds, then shook her own hair out.

“What’s that over the other side of the water?”

“Exmoor. We used to do a couple of the markets around there, when I was a lot younger”

Change the subject right now, Deborah Petrie Wells.

“It’s a National Park, all red deer and wild ponies. Oh! Look: see the white bird out there?”

“The seagull?”

“Not a seagull, Kim. That’s a fulmar. Like a miniature albatross”

She muttered something, and repeated it louder as Rosie made her “Eh?” expression.

“I said ‘stormy petrel on a stick’. Monty Python”

Rosie barked out a laugh.

“Fuck me, Deb, and I thought this one was shy! Anything else out there?”

“I scanned the sea with Mam’s bins, and pointed out a couple of winter-plumage guillemots, passing the optics around so that the other two could see them, then showed them the pimple of Dunkery Beacon over the other side of the water.

“Walked up there a couple of times. I think I have some photos I took from there, looking back to here. I’ll see if I can dig them out later. Now, see down there in the rocks? With the orange legs? That’s a turnstone”

I showed her a few more birds, all reasonably common ones, before I realised that none of them were ‘common’ to her. It was only when I noticed a tremor in her hand as she handed back the bins that I realised how chilly it was becoming.

“Rosie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Time for that pub, I think. Temperatures going down”

“Right. Get warmed up, and Kim?”

“Yeah?”
We chose the nearer of the two pubs, and it was toasty-warm inside. I was just unzipping my jacket when the barman called over to us.

“Don’t bother, woman. We don’t serve your sort”

Rosie raised an eyebrow, then looked hard at Kim before shrugging and walking silently out of the door. We followed her to the car park, where she broke her silence.

“Cunt needs a slapping. Not today, though. I know another couple of places. Bit further before you can warm up, kid”

She took her anger out on the road, and I had to push it a bit harder on the way to the A48, and she was certainly a lot more liberal in how she interpreted the speed limit, rolling east at 85 mph and above, but we avoided seeing any police cars, which left me wondering if Rosie’s mood was somehow being transmitted by some form of telepathy. ‘Stopping this woman would really spoil your day’.

She turned off south after a while, near Cowbridge, skirting the western end of the town before pulling up at a place called the Cross Inn. It didn’t look like a biker pub, so I told Rosie to wait with Kim while I checked what sort of welcome they had for us.

I took my lid off before opening the pub’s door, thinking it would look less threatening, and the barman looked up as I walked in.

“You not got cold legs, just wearing jeans?”

“Nah; got tights on underneath them”

“Good idea. What can I get you?”

“You OK with bikers?”

He laughed out loud.

“What? You going to eat my hamster or something?”

His mood was infectious, and I started chuckling myself.

“Always the comedians! Got another one outside, but she’s into Monty Python”

“Brilliant! Get her in the warm, then, before she becomes an ex-biker”

I went to the door, giving the other two a thumbs up, and as they entered the barman called out “So which one of you has the LAAAVley plumage?”

Kim actually started giggling, and to my astonishment spoke directly to the man.

“That’ll be me, but I’m tired and shagged out after a long ride, as well as bloody cold”

He grinned back.

“That end of the room there’s an open fire, and soup of the day is cream of tomato. Drinks?”

We had a round of teas, then a bowl each of the soup, which came with some really nice crusty rolls to help mop it up. I noticed Kim starting to sag a little, as Rosie cast a few looks at her watch.

“Rosie?”

“Yes, Deb?”

“I know the way from here. If you need to get off, do it. I’ll run a hot bath for this one when we get in”

“Keep me up to speed, girl. I’ll let you know if we get any word about snoopers. Tell me if Sparky’s got anything”

She looked over to Kim.

“If you feel warm enough for the ride back, I’ll shoot straight off. Things to do, people to see tonight”

I rose to hug her after she had zipped up her jacket, and Kim surprised me once more by doing the same. There was a hint of tears in her eyes as she squeezed my old friend, and I heard her whisper “Thank you”

I settled our bill on the simple basis that Rosie had paid for everything else, and then rode in a much more sedate manner back through the city to Adamsdown, where the Suzi took its place in my back yard as Kim set the kettle boiling.

I left her to soak in the bath as I topped up the urn in the van before driving round to my regular spot. It wasn’t long before Sparky turned up, with a carrier bag full of my mugs and a broad grin. As I poured and handed out the refilled mugs, he took his usual spot on the van’s sill and gave me what information he had.

“How’s she doing, Deb?”

“Much better, mate. I really think you saved her life. Got her dosed up with antibiotics, and I left her soaking in a hot bath and making bad jokes”

“All I need to know, Deb. All the news I need. Now: no parents, no family, nothing like that, but there was a couple of plod sniffing around, with a photo. ‘Have you seen this boy’ stuff. I was right, then. Don’t think the parents were. And I don’t give a shit what the midwife said when she was born. So, if I were you, I’d keep her profile low for now. Picture was a school one, and it didn’t look much like her. Blazer, tie, short hair. Set me thinking”

“And?”

“If her sweet and loving parents really wanted her back, not only would they have used a more recent photo, but they would actually HAVE a more recent photo. I don’t think they do care, and all of this is to tick the ‘concerned family’ box until their little sugar plum fairy is all forgotten about and they can get on with being the twats I think they really are. Seen it before, Deb; the plod will be on her case for a fortnight or so, then, unless she gets lifted for some reason, the file goes to WPB”

“Sorry?”

“Keep forgetting you’re a tinker, girl. Waste Paper Basket. Binned. Forgotten about. Oh: and she’s fifteen”

I left him with another refill and the bag of mugs once more, and headed home. I found all the dishes washed, dried and put away, and the refuse of the previous night’s Chinese sorted into the appropriate bins. I looked in on Kim, and she was fast asleep, her dark curls spread across her pillow, in the glow of the street lights through the curtains. I closed the door gently, and started making plans.