Ruby's War Read online

  ‘Oh, does she,’ Auntie Maud said, opening the newspaper that was lying on the table.

  The room fell silent. Now that the woman was seated, Ruby could see that she had round glasses and the same sharp nose as Granddad. Gazing into the shadows beyond the gas mantle’s yellow light, she could make out a heavy dresser with an oval photo frame on top and a full-length photograph of a young man in uniform hanging on the wall above it. She wondered if the young man might be her grandfather. The only other piece of furniture was a single bed, partly hidden by a curtain that hung from the ceiling. There was a huge white shape under the counterpane.

  ‘That’s your Uncle Joe, Ruby,’ Granddad said, taking off his cap and nodding towards the figure on the bed. ‘He’s not well,’ Granddad added. ‘He needs someone to …’

  ‘He’s got someone,’ Auntie Maud snapped.

  Getting up from the table, Maud hobbled over to the hearth and filled a small white teapot from the kettle. They watched as she made her way slowly over to the bed, pushed back the curtain and put the spout of the lidless teapot into Uncle Joe’s mouth.

  ‘So you’d best take this lass home. And if your fancy woman don’t like it, then she knows what she can do. If she does clear off, ’appen the little lass can manage for thee.’

  ‘Just for a couple of nights. She’d be a good help.’

  ‘Not for an hour. No. I know you too well, our Henry.’

  ‘What do you say, Joe?’

  Uncle Joe had the same thin nose as Auntie Maud and Granddad, but the rest of him was very white and fat. He made Ruby think of a young gull, so when he turned his bloated form towards them and fixed them with a bright black eye, she almost expected him to open his mouth and squawk.

  ‘You never mind what Joe thinks,’ Auntie Maud said. ‘You just get that lass home.’

  Then Maud sat down with her back towards them, and all Ruby could see was her aunt’s fine grey hair, plaited and rolled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. The room was silent again, except for the rustle of the thin newspaper as Auntie Maud turned the page. Then the clock on the mantelpiece began to stir, making first a grating sound as though it was clearing its dry throat, before commencing its uncertain chime. On the opposite side of the table, Granddad’s shoulders appeared to shrink, making his mac look much too big for his narrow frame. It was seven o’clock. Ruby remembered that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast at seven-thirty, and as though reacting to a signal, on the final stroke her stomach began to rumble. The chimes were also a signal to Granddad who, as the clock fell silent, made for the door.

  Ruby followed him outside. In the blackout, the houses appeared to be so close together that she wondered if it would be hard for even the brightest sunlight to force its way down into the cobbled street. When they reached the main road, Granddad crossed over and made for the public house. Blackout material had been used to cover the glass in the door, but the name, The Railway Inn, had been cut out of the blind and the letters covered with a translucent mauve fabric. Through the dim shapes in the blind, she could see sleeves and shoulders pushed up against the door of the crowded bar.

  ‘We’d best go round to the back,’ Granddad muttered, turning into the narrow alleyway and capturing a soldier and his giggling girlfriend in the beam from his torch.

  ‘Clear off, you dirty buggers,’ he shouted. ‘I’ve a young lass here.’

  Ruby wanted to tell him not to worry on her account – she’d lived in a guest house since she was nine and was used to courting couples. But Granddad had disappeared, and she was left to struggle with her suitcase in the dark. Then she heard a door open and music spilt out into the night.

  ‘Come on, Ruby, love,’ Granddad called. ‘Where are you?’

  She headed towards the sound and a strong, warm hand took hers, guiding her into a narrow passageway that smelt of cigarette smoke and stale beer.

  ‘This here’s Johnny Finlay, Johnny Fin,’ her granddad said, nodding towards the large man standing next to him.

  Johnny Finlay, who was over six foot five, bent down, put his huge hands on his knees and smiled. ‘Nice to meet you. Is that your music case?’

  Johnny Finlay wasn’t a handsome man; there wasn’t even one hair on his wide bony skull, his nose was flat with a funny bump in the middle and his front teeth were missing. If she’d been alone, Ruby was sure she would have screamed with fright.

  ‘Oh, she’s got all her parents’ musical talent,’ Granddad said. ‘Now, Ruby, you wait here with the cases. Me and Johnny have a bloke to see.’

  When he opened the door to the brightly lit bar, she heard someone call his name. Then Johnny Fin gave her a friendly wave and followed him. Ruby sat down on an empty beer crate. Since her mother’s death, whenever Auntie Ethel had given her a dull job to do, or when she’d finished her schoolwork before the other children, Ruby would slide back to the time before Pearl’s accident, and as there was nothing of interest in the hallway, she closed her eyes.

  She was back at Everdeane. It was winter, and all the visitors had gone. She was with her mother in the guest bedroom they’d shared out of season. Sometimes in the early evening, they would sit together in the large bay window to watch the setting sun. Then, if she’d a booking at one of the clubs in town, her mother would sit down in front of the mirror, put on her make-up and become Pearl Barton, nightclub singer. Ruby had loved those times. Her mother would laugh and sing and talk about the club or the theatre where she was going to perform and how she might get asked back to sing again.

  Ruby could smell her perfume, hear her excited giggles and the distant, tinkling music carried down the prom on the sea breeze. She felt someone shake her by the shoulder, smelt Pearl’s face powder and opened her eyes. For a moment she thought the woman in the dimly lit hallway was her mother, but she wasn’t as pretty.

  ‘What are you doin’ here?’ the woman asked. ‘Are you all right, love?’

  The woman wore a glittery top and had blonde hair set in finger waves and, although she wasn’t as pretty as her mother, when she smiled Ruby could tell that she was kind.

  ‘It’s all right, Vera,’ a voice called from the doorway. ‘She’s with Henry. I think he’s trying to get up a bit of Dutch courage before he takes her home. It’s his granddaughter.’

  ‘Dutch courage? And you’re letting him?’

  ‘Best keep out of it.’

  ‘You can just go and tell him now, Bert Lyons, it’s more than your licence is worth to have a child in your pub.’

  ‘She’s not doin’ any harm.’

  ‘I know that, you soft bugger. The poor kid’s sat on her own in the dark, while he gets drunk. You tell him you’re not serving him, and he’s taking her home, now.’

  Ruby followed her grandfather back through the yard to the front of the pub. This time, he didn’t seem to notice the couple cuddling in the dark. They walked back along the main road, past the row of white cottages, the darkened houses and the blacked-out shops and church hall on the opposite side. When the rows of houses ended, the footpath narrowed and the air became colder.

  ‘Be careful,’ Granddad said. ‘Here. Hold on to the belt of my coat. This bridge over the river is narrow. It’s not far now.’

  As they edged their way up the little humped-back bridge, Ruby could hear the running water. They were almost at the top when the sound of a bus engine broke through the inky silence. The tiny slits of light from its headlamps sprang up in front of them, and her granddad pushed Ruby in close to the rough stone parapet.

  ‘Bloody fool,’ he shouted. ‘Fancy coming over at that speed in the blackout.’

  At the bottom of the bridge they turned off the main road. Above them, the moon slid out from behind the clouds. They’d turned into a narrow lane with a single row of cottages on the opposite corner. Granddad didn’t cross over but walked up the lane between the tall hedgerows until they came to a single white stone cottage.

  ‘Here we are,’ he said, fastening up the belt on his mac. ‘Y
ou hungry?’

  When he opened the front door someone screamed. A blonde-haired girl, wearing nothing but salmon-pink French knickers, was standing in the centre of a white sheet, her arms wrapped across her naked breasts. For a moment there was silence, and Ruby felt the warm air from the room swirl against her cold legs. Then the door behind the girl burst open, and a fat woman charged at them.

  ‘Don’t just bloody stand there, get out!’ she shouted and slammed the front door.

  ‘Shall I go round the back, Jenny, love?’ Granddad called through the letter box.

  When there was no reply, he took out his cigarettes and squatted on his haunches. Clouds began to cover the moon and the darkness crept towards them, stealing up from the gate along the narrow garden. He pulled up his collar to light a match, and then all she could see was the tip of his cigarette, pulsing slowly with each inhalation. Ruby squeezed her music case tightly and swallowed hard. When he’d finished, he knocked on the door again. This time it swung open.

  The fat woman’s cross face appeared from behind a swell of white cotton sheet. ‘Will you shut that door,’ she said, shaking and folding the fabric.

  Then, with the folded sheet under one arm, she began collecting pieces of fine tweed cloth that were scattered on the furniture and the floor. Depending on the way it caught the light, the fabric was either a soft lilac or violet in colour. One of the pieces, a sleeve, lolled on the back of an easy chair by the open fire, another hung over a wooden chair next to the table, and still more were piled on the tabletop, where they clashed with the red crushed-velvet cover. The plump woman moved easily, bending to scoop up each piece of fabric, folding each one as she moved on to take up the next one. With each movement, her crystal drop earrings glittered icily.

  Ruby shivered. In front of the range was a large brass fender with boxes for holding kindling built into its two corners. She would have loved to sit on the padded top of one of the brass boxes and stretch out her fingers to the coal fire, but thought it was better to stay by the door, until she was invited to sit down.

  ‘I offered to go round the back, Jenny, love.’

  ‘What, an’ walk in on our Sadie again, when she’s in the scullery havin’ a wash?’

  The plump woman scooped up the pieces of a paper pattern that were lying on the floor, and as she settled down in an easy chair to fold them, there was a knock at the front door.

  The blonde girl, now fully dressed, hurried in from the scullery. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said. ‘It’s only Lou.’

  She opened the front door to a dark-haired girl of about her own age.

  ‘Oh, is this my suit?’ the girl asked, picking up a stray scrap of fabric from the flagged floor.

  ‘I was hoping to have it tacked up by now, and you could have tried it on,’ the woman replied. ‘I was pinning it on our Sadie, but we was interrupted.’

  ‘Who’s this?’ Lou asked, smiling at Ruby.

  ‘This is Ruby,’ Granddad said. ‘She’s my son’s daughter. Lives with her aunt, since she lost her mum. I’ve been over there to sort out some family business and thought I’d bring her home with me for a few days. She can stay in her dad’s old room.’

  ‘Ahh,’ the blonde girl cooed. ‘That’ll be nice. Nice to meet you, love. I’m Sadie and this is Lou.’

  ‘Hello, love,’ Lou said. ‘Haven’t you got lovely eyes.’

  Outside, a horn tooted loudly, and the two young women checked their make-up in the mirror.

  ‘That’s our lift,’ Sadie said. ‘See you later. Don’t wait up.’

  ‘I don’t know what Jack’s mother will think when she sees a Yank calling for her son’s intended,’ Granddad said, as the sound of the engine died away. ‘Blackout or no blackout, she misses nothing.’

  ‘What Sadie does is no business of yours, Henry,’ the woman said.

  Granddad bent down and picked up a delicate piece of paper pattern from the pegged rug.

  ‘I was wondering,’ he said, handing the piece to the woman. ‘Since Ruby will be staying here, would it be fitting for her to call you Grandma, Grandma Jenny? If you wouldn’t object?’

  ‘Well, it’s more respectful than Jenny,’ the woman said, and smiled slightly as she took the tissue paper from his outstretched hand. ‘I suppose she’ll need feeding as well.’

  Granddad winked at Ruby and began unbuttoning his mac. ‘Take your coat off, Ruby,’ he said, ‘and we’ll hang it here. Then I’ll get the tablecloth. Is it in the dresser drawer, Jenny?’

  ‘It’s not Sunday,’ Jenny said, handing him a newspaper, which he opened out and spread over the velvet cloth.

  ‘Ruby and me will set the table,’ he said. ‘Leave that to us. I’m sure she knows how to set a table.’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ Jenny replied, getting up from the chair. ‘The plates are in the bottom of the oven in the range. Use the cloth on the rail to carry them, and make sure you put it back. Knives and forks are in the right-hand drawer,’ she said, pointing to the dresser by the kitchen door. ‘I’ll go and cut the bread.’

  When Ruby pulled open the oven door, the smell of stew bubbling in the large brown pot made her feel dizzy. Granddad, who had taken off his jacket and his stiff collar, took a seat at the table, and as she set out the knives and forks, he did his secret grin and winked again.

  ‘Here. Put this on the table,’ Grandma Jenny said, coming back from the kitchen with a plate of bread. ‘I’ll bring the stew. No doubt it’s dry by now.’

  ‘Grandma Jenny is a very good cook, Ruby,’ Granddad said.

  Jenny carried the steaming pot to the table. When she took off the lid, the rich smell filled the room.

  ‘Not too bad,’ she declared, spooning out the deep-brown stew on to the plates and tucking the tea towel in the waistband of her apron.

  The food was warm and comforting. The meat was tasty, although Ruby didn’t recognise the strong, dark flesh. She squashed the soft, waxy potatoes into the viscous gravy and let the taste of the sweet carrots fill her mouth.

  ‘Now, that was worth waiting for,’ Granddad smiled, when they’d dabbed up every last drop and their plates were clean and dry. ‘Wouldn’t you say so, Ruby, love?’

  ‘Well it took you long enough to get home to it,’ Jenny said, ‘and via the pub, by the smell of you.’

  ‘It was the train. It was delayed,’ he said, avoiding Ruby’s eye. ‘The station was that busy, soldiers, all kinds. Ruby was getting knocked here and there. So I took her into the station bar to wait. All that luggage and rushing about, the lass could have been knocked off the platform. Might there be any pudding left?’ he asked.

  ‘You can’t expect to have decent food served up at the drop of a hat,’ Jenny said, surveying the empty plates. ‘You’re lucky there’s anything left. Was there Yanks at Preston?’ she asked. ‘Our Sadie says there’s a rumour that the Yanks are sending black GIs up here.’

  ‘No, they was ours. We had some black lads in France last time. They was Yanks. Nice enough lads, from what I could see. Jenny, love,’ he said, winking at Ruby, ‘did I see you coring apples this morning?’

  ‘It’s more than you deserve,’ she replied, heading over to the oven again.

  The fat apples were filled with dried fruit, made soft and full with fragrant apple juice. At Everdeane, when baked apples were the pudding, there was much less fruit packed inside, and the visitors had been forced to use their individual sugar rations to make the tart flesh edible.

  Once she’d eaten her apple, Ruby began to feel sleepy. It was only a holiday. A few days, he’d said. They just needed her room for a bit. She yawned. If they’d told her sooner, she could have been packed and waiting for Granddad when he’d arrived.

  Jenny brought a large brown teapot over to the table and collected the dishes. Instead of drinking from his cup, Granddad tipped the tea into his saucer and began to sip it. Ruby expected Jenny to complain. Auntie Ethel would never have allowed it. No wonder she hadn’t offered him a cup of tea. But Jenny didn’t
say anything. Instead, she opened up the white sheet again, and after pinning part of it across her wobbly bosom, began tacking the pieces of the suit together.

  When they’d arrived, Jenny’s face had been pink and angry. Now, as she sat by the fireside, her wide doughy face looked tired.

  ‘If I’d known you were bringin’ her home, I’d have aired the bed,’ she said, slowly drawing her needle in and out through the fabric. ‘There’s a brick warming in the bottom of the oven. She can have that. I’d put it in for me, but as you’re home, you can warm my feet.’

  ‘You don’t worry, Jenny,’ Granddad said, getting up from the table and picking up the small case. ‘I’ll take her up.’ He handed Ruby the brick wrapped in a piece of old sheet. ‘Come on, Ruby, love. Let’s get you to bed.’

  ‘Is that all she’s been sent with?’ Jenny asked, eyeing the small brown case.

  Ruby didn’t hear the reply and followed him through the kitchen and up the stairs. Granddad put the brick into the bed and set the case down near the door.

  ‘I’ll leave the landing door open just a bit. You can close it once you’ve got undressed,’ he said. ‘There’s no light in here. I’ll fix one up in the morning.’

  ‘The other case, Granddad,’ she said sleepily. ‘Is it …’

  ‘Sleep tight,’ he said, giving her a beery kiss. ‘It’ll be okay, you’ll see. Her bark’s worse than her bite.’

  Ruby was too sleepy to find her nightclothes. Instead, she put her gymslip and school blouse on the cane chair by the bed and crept under the chilly sheets. The brick quickly warmed the top half of the mattress. Then she edged it down until she could curl up with the brick, parcelled in its thick layer of wrapping, a few inches from her feet. Her eyes closed, and telling herself that it was only a holiday, Ruby drifted away from the small, damp room.

  CHAPTER TWO

  When she opened her eyes, Ruby remembered Pearl’s suitcase. She sat up, but except for a thin line of light showing under the door, it was dark and she couldn’t see anything. The cold stung her bare arms, and she wriggled down again under the covers. Her toes probed the frayed sheet around the brick, but no warmth came through the wrapping. She stuck out a hand and was groping in the darkness, feeling for her socks among the muddle of clothes she’d left on the cane chair, when she heard angry voices coming from the kitchen. Pulling her hand back inside the safety of the blankets, Ruby listened. She thought it must be Granddad and Jenny, but she couldn’t be sure. Then she heard footsteps; someone walked along the landing and then back again. She slid further into her blanket cocoon and waited. The door opened slowly and a pale-grey light filled the room.