A Rare Ruby (6 page)

‘So Mrs Watson said. But I don’t mind.’

‘What they paying you?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know? Didn’t you ask?’ Ruby could see her mother wasn’t happy about it.

Ruby shook her head. ‘I was so pleased at getting the job I forgot to ask.’

‘Will I have to do all Ruby’s jobs now?’ asked Tom.

‘Looks like it. Let’s hope it’ll be worth it.’

‘I’m on a week’s trial.’ Ruby was disappointed at her mother’s reaction; she had thought she would be a little more enthusiastic.

‘Honestly, Ruby, I don’t know how we’re going to manage. Tom here can’t do all the collecting and delivering.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll do the big loads after work.’

‘Go over and get a couple of eggs for tea.’

Ruby went across to the dairy with a heavy heart.

‘You look like you’ve lost a shilling and found a tanner. What’s up?’ asked Milly, her bright red cheeks shining. ‘Has that Beth settled down?’

‘She seems to be happy enough. She works up the pub.’

‘I know. She told me. So what’s the trouble then?’

‘I’m going to work at the laundry.’

‘Good for you. Mind you, it’s bloody hard work. I couldn’t do anything like that. So what’s making you look so fed up?’

‘I thought Mum would be pleased.’

‘And ain’t she?’

Ruby shook her head. ‘I think she’s worried about Tom taking the washing out on his own. Mum don’t like him going round the buildings.’

‘I’m not surprised at that. Can’t say I’d fancy going round that way after dark.’

‘I had to go round there the other night.’ Ruby giggled.

‘The woman had a man in there and she only had a petticoat on.’

Milly leaned further over the counter. ‘No. Was it her husband?’

Ruby shook her head.

‘I’ve heard a lot of that goes on round that way.’

‘Now we’ve got Mrs Norton’s money coming in and if I can hang on to me job, Mum might not have to do so much.’

‘You’re a good girl, Ruby.’

Ruby blushed. ‘Can I have two eggs please?’

‘Tell you what. I’m feeling in a good mood tonight. You can have three for the price of two.’

‘Thanks.’

Carefully Ruby crossed the road. Suddenly she was sure things were going to be fine. Everything seemed to be happening at once: she could feel that all the bad times were behind them. As the sole of her boot flapped about, the thought that brought a smile to her face was, perhaps next week her mother would let her keep her first week’s wages. It would be great to go to the second-hand stall in the market, or the pawnbrokers, and get a smart new pair of boots. She knew she should get waterproofs, but hopefully and if she showed willing, she might not be in the washroom too long.

It was a typical November Monday morning when Ruby left home: cold, dark and damp. She knew her mother wasn’t happy about the situation as she was tight-lipped and had hardly said a word.

Outside the factory Ruby scanned the crowd of women. Finally she caught sight of Elsie. Ruby called out her name.

Elsie’s face broke into a grin. ‘Hello there, love. All right then?’

‘Bit worried.’

‘I hope she don’t give you a rotten job.’

‘She said I might be in the washroom to start with, but I’ll be grateful for whatever she gives me. Thanks for putting in a good word for me.’

‘Don’t thank me till you know what you’ll be doing. Look out, here she comes.’ Elsie stood back.

‘Follow me, Miss Jenkins,’ said Mrs Watson. ‘Have you known Mr Wallis long?’ she asked over her shoulder as they marched through a huge room.

‘We was at school together.’

‘Nice lad, and very good to his mother.’

Ruby didn’t answer. Her eyes were darting about her as she took in the large noisy machinery. The room was very warm. Two women were lifting heavy lids on presses that hissed at them. They took out flat sheets and together carefully folded them. The women sitting at a long table ironing went quiet when they walked through; a couple of them grinned at her.

Ruby was intrigued to see the irons were attached to the ceiling by a length of tube. ‘These gas irons are the very latest thing. We try to keep up-to-date here at Stone’s,’ said Mrs Watson. She stood at the door and called: ‘Miss Cotton. This is Ruby Jenkins, she’s here to give you a hand.’

Miss Cotton was a big woman with arms thick like a man’s; it appeared she was in charge of the washroom. When Ruby walked in, she couldn’t believe it; the place was swimming with water.

Miss Cotton looked down at Ruby’s boots. ‘They ain’t gonner last five minutes in this place. Ain’t yer got nothing better?’

‘No. But when I get me wages I hope to get some new ones.’

‘New ones won’t last five minutes neither. You want a good pair of waterproofs. Now come on, I’ll show you what to do. First of all you’d better put this on.’ She gave Ruby a thick rubber apron that reached almost down to the floor.

Ruby noted that all the other women were wearing the dark red aprons. She was intrigued and a little worried when told to help put washing in the huge boilers. They were lit with frightening gas jets that hissed continually. She hadn’t seen anything like this before. She then had to move on to another boiler and help take the washing out. The heat was stifling and the water gradually crept up her legs. Her arms and back ached; she was tired and uncomfortable. When somebody blew a whistle all the other women stopped work. Ruby looked round in amazement.

‘Come on, love,’ shouted one woman. ‘It’s dinner break. You’ve got half an hour to eat yer sandwiches.’ The woman patted the wicker laundry basket she was sitting on. ‘Come and sit be me.’

‘Thanks.’ She plonked herself down. ‘I didn’t bring any sandwiches.’

‘’Ere, ’ave one of mine. D’yer fancy a drop o’ beer?’

‘Don’t drink beer.’

‘Go on. A little drop won’t hurt yer.’

‘Wouldn’t mind. It’s very hot in here.’

‘’Ere, don’t swig too much, we don’t want you falling about drunk all afternoon.’

‘She might finish up in one of the boilers,’ shouted someone behind.

‘Christ, I hope not, she’ll come out all white,’ came from another.

Ruby handed back the bottle. ‘Thanks. I didn’t think we had a break.’

‘You lot,’ shouted her new-found benefactor. ‘This little ’en ain’t got nothing ter eat, so how about passing over something?’

An assortment of things landed on Ruby’s lap. She had never seen such a variety of food.

‘Me name’s Doris. What’s yours?’

‘Ruby.’

‘Old Mrs Watson certainly chucked you in at the deep end.’

‘Have you been here long?’ asked Ruby, her cheeks full of thick fish-paste doorstep.

‘A few years. This must be the worst job in this place. Mind you, the pay ain’t bad.’

‘And she can’t do anything else,’ shouted another elderly lady.

Ruby wanted to ask her why she was still in this room if she disliked it so much, and what sort of wages they got, but she didn’t want to appear daft. How many people start work and not know what wages they’re going to get?

‘’As she got a grudge against yer?’ asked Doris.

‘No, I don’t think so. What’s the best job in here?’

‘Packing room. But like most jobs yer get paid piecework in there. We don’t, that’s why most of us stick at it.’

Ruby must have looked bewildered. ‘Piecework?’ she asked.

Doris continued, ‘Yer get paid fer every bit of work yer do, so yer ’ave ter be quick, otherwise yer don’t earn much. And another thing, yer have ter be able ter read in the packing room. Can yer read?’

Ruby nodded. ‘Wouldn’t you like to work in there?’ she asked.

‘Na. I ain’t very good at tying up parcels; I’d be all fingers and thumbs. ’Sides, I can’t read, so Gawd only knows what would finish up in ’em. I could just see the look on some posh tart’s face if she got some old bloke’s combs.’ Doris threw her head back and laughed.

Ruby was amazed that the women could laugh and talk so easily while working in such a dreadful place.

 

When the whistle blew for them to finally stop for the day, it was seven o’clock. Ruby felt she had been in the washroom for a week.

Outside the cold wind cut through her thin coat. She pulled it tighter across her small bosom. The street gas lamps spluttered above her head and a fog was coming off the water. Sounds echoed; everywhere there was an eerie yellow glow and the ships’ foghorns added to the ghostly atmosphere.

‘Ruby! Ruby, wait.’

Ruby caught sight of Elsie making her way through the throng. Coming up to Ruby, she put her arm through the younger girl’s.

‘You all right? Where did you finish up?’

‘In the washroom.’

‘No! The old cow. She done that on purpose. She don’t want you to stay.’

‘Does she do that to everyone?’

‘No. Some ask to go in there as they get more money than the rest of us. Some of ’em have got little ’ens and drunken old men at home, so they have to earn as much as they can. You won’t find me in there. I’d tell her where to stuff her job.’

‘I’m on a week’s trial.’

‘Well, see how it goes.’ She stopped. ‘I go down here. See you tomorrow.’

‘Bye. And thanks.’

Ruby was dead tired as she slowly made her way home, but she knew she would stick at it just to show Mrs Watson and Ernie when she saw him again. She shivered. Her feet were wet and cold and her chilblains were back and driving her crazy. She knew she mustn’t scratch them in case they got infected. Perhaps she could put them in the piddle pot tonight; that might help to stop the itching. She almost prayed that her mother didn’t want her to deliver washing tonight. The bottom of her thin frock was wet and clung to her legs with every step she took. She didn’t feel elated at being at work, just miserable, but she mustn’t let on to her mother.

‘Hello, love, had a good day?’ asked Beth smiling when Ruby pushed open the kitchen door.

The kitchen was warm and cosy. How Ruby envied Tom, her father and Beth sitting at the table having their tea.

‘My God. Look at the state of you,’ said her mother, leaping up. ‘Get those wet things off before you catch your death.’

Slowly Ruby unbuttoned her boots. Her fingers were red and sore. She was having trouble holding back the tears. She rolled down her damp stockings. Every movement was such an effort.

‘You’d better get that wet frock off as well. I’ll hang it on the clothes horse, it’ll be dry by the morning. I don’t think you’ll be able to deliver Mrs Bell’s washing tonight.’

‘I’ll do it in the morning, before I go to work.’

‘You can’t, she won’t be up.’

‘Perhaps I can help out. I can do it when I finish tomorrow,’ said Beth. ‘I like to take Danny for a little walk in the afternoons. Tom can show me where she lives.’

Ruby wanted to throw her arms round Beth. She also wanted to cry, with joy, fatigue and relief that she didn’t have to go out tonight. ‘Is it all right if I go to bed?’

‘Don’t you want something to eat?’

‘No thanks, Mum. The women gave me a lot.’

‘The women fed you?’

‘I didn’t take nothing with me.’

‘I hope they don’t think I starve you?’

‘Course they don’t. I must go to bed.’ She pushed open the door and fell onto the mattress; instantly she was asleep.

 

The shouting woke her.

‘When I let you live here I didn’t think you’d take in lodgers.’ Mr Cox’s voice was loud and booming.

‘She ain’t a lodger. She’s my sister’s girl and she moved here to be near the docks when her husband comes home.’

‘Well, tell her to keep that bloody kid quiet.’

Ruby couldn’t believe what her mother was saying. She was telling him a lie. She waited till she heard him stomp up the stairs, his feet crashing on the bare floorboards, and then she stood up.

‘Mum, what’s happening?’ she asked, wandering into the kitchen.

Her father was holding his head and rocking back and forth.

‘What’s wrong with Dad?’

‘Mr Cox came in shouting, and you know how much that upsets your father.’

‘It’s my fault really,’ said Beth Norton softly. ‘It seems Danny kept Mr Cox awake this afternoon.’

Ruby put her arm round her father’s shoulder and held him close. ‘It’s all right, Dad.’ She looked up. ‘It’s taken him a long while to come down and shout about it then,’ said Ruby to her mother.

‘He was asleep when I took his tea up and I think he was just waiting for an excuse to come down and say something. I don’t think he likes hard roe on toast.’

‘I heard you tell him that Beth was your sister’s daughter. You ain’t got a sister,’ said Ruby.

‘I know that, but he don’t. Now, d’you fancy some roe on toast?’

‘Yes, please.’ This was indeed a rare treat. Perhaps things were going to work out now her mother had accepted that Beth Norton was going to stay - well, for the time being anyway.

All the rest of the week while Ruby worked, she was pleased that Beth helped Tom collect and deliver the washing.

On Friday night Ruby waited impatiently for her wages and to see if Mrs Watson was going to let her stay.

‘Ruby Jenkins,’ Mrs Watson called; her long finger beckoned her. ‘Here, just a minute.’ Mrs Watson was standing in the doorway. She wasn’t going to come in a room that was ankle deep in water.

Slowly Ruby made her way over to her.

‘So, you’ve managed to stick at it then? I didn’t think you’d last a day, let alone a week.’

Ruby managed a weak smile.

‘I’ll hang on to your wages till tomorrow. Just in case you don’t turn up. You finish at four tomorrow.’

‘Do you want me to work next week?’

‘Do you want to?’

Ruby nodded.

‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’