All My Tomorrows (13 page)

‘Is Mr Fraser working at the factory too?’

‘Goodness me, no,’ she replied with a sniff of disdain. ‘My Harry’s on the local council and is in line to be Mayor at the end of the year.’

Ruby looked suitably impressed, and Mrs Fraser patted her arm. ‘I’ll leave you to settle in, dear,’ she said. ‘If the sirens go, the public shelter is three streets down in the recreation ground. Tea is at six sharp, and remember to give me your food stamps. I’ll need those if you want me to feed you properly.’

Ruby sank onto the bed as Mrs Fraser closed the door behind her. Fate had smiled on her for a second time in as many days. It was a lovely room, the bed was soft and clean and comfy, and Mrs Fraser seemed ever so nice, even if she did scrape for every last penny. She’d fallen on her feet and no mistake.

Chapter Seven

RUBY HAD FOLDED
her few bits of clothing into the chest of drawers and placed her best shoes on the floor of the narrow wardrobe where the empty hangers reminded her of how little she possessed. With her basket tucked away on top of the wardrobe, she washed her hands and face in the tiny corner basin and dried herself on the fluffy hand-towel Mrs Fraser had provided, and then ran her worn comb through her hair and fastened it back with a slide.

She looked a fright and no mistake, she thought as she regarded the dark bruising on her jaw, the grubby plaster on her forehead, and the angry red scald marks on her neck. But she’d suffered worse and knew that by the end of the week she’d look better. The sun shone through the window and winked on her wedding ring, and she was tempted to take it off, for this was a new beginning and she wanted to erase all reminders of her marriage to Ray and the torment he’d caused her. And yet Mrs Fraser would no doubt notice and ask questions, and a wedding ring was a sort of protection against unwelcome advances.

Ruby shook off these thoughts and checked on the rolls of money and clothing coupons that were crammed into her bag. She had at least two hundred quid, which was a fortune in anyone’s money, and over five hundred clothing coupons – though she’d have to be careful with those; they were rationed to sixty-six a year and questions would be asked if she tried to use too many in one shop. She extracted thirty quid and a year’s clothing stamps from the bundle and stuffed the rest out of sight in her gas-mask box. It was late afternoon and she needed to get to the shops before they closed.

With a thrill of anticipation for this extraordinary treat, she shot a quick glance round to make sure everything was tidy, and then went downstairs.

‘Off out, are you, dear?’ Mrs Fraser was peeling spuds in the sink.

‘I thought I’d ’ave a look about,’ Ruby replied. She put the food stamps for the week on the top of the nearby dresser. ‘Could I have a front door key, please?’

Mrs Fraser snapped off her rubber gloves and reached into a drawer. ‘If you lose it you’ll have to pay to get another one cut,’ she warned. ‘That’s my only spare.’

Ruby nodded and then carefully stowed the key in her handbag. ‘I’ll be back in time for me tea,’ she murmured as she backed out of the kitchen. Closing the front door behind her, she breathed in the wonderful clean air before hurrying along the street.

It was late afternoon but Cliffehaven town was still busy, with trams and trolleybuses rattling along and delivery boys swerving their bicycles in and out of the slow-moving traffic. Heavy army lorries lumbered down the High Street and off-duty servicemen strolled along with their girls or stood in groups talking and smoking. There were the usual stacks of sandbags protecting the doorways to the more imposing buildings, and several prams were parked outside the Home and Colonial general store, their small passengers asleep, or happily gurgling at the passers-by.

It was all very posh, Ruby realised, for there were no half-naked urchins playing in the street, no rough men loitering on street corners, or women screeching from their doorways in rollers and pinnies with fags stuck in the corners of their mouths. The women here were well dressed and quietly spoken as they did their shopping or gossiped on the pavements, and the few non-servicemen that were about wore nice suits and doffed their hats at the ladies.

She found a stationer’s and bought a notepad, a pencil and some envelopes, then went into the post office and bought stamps so she could write to Fred Bowman at the Tanner’s Arms and let him and Ethel know she was safe. Discovering the chemist, she went in and used some of her ration to buy face powder, mascara, lipstick, a bar of cheap soap, some shampoo, a brush and comb, and a packet of plasters. She dithered over the pretty pink nail varnish and decided it wasn’t worth it. Her nails were ragged and almost bitten to the quick, and nothing would make them look nice.

Ruby came at last to Plummer Roddis and looked through the criss-cross of tape on the only surviving window of the large department store, expecting to see lovely clothes to tempt her. But the display consisted of what she considered to be a rather dowdy navy costume, an equally dull hat and a pair of sturdy lace-up shoes. It was all very grown-up and she wondered if she was too young to even consider shopping here.

She felt her nerve desert her as she eyed the door. She’d always got her clothes from the Sally Army or the market, and had never been into a shop like this before. But she did need to get some new clothes, and this looked as if it was the only place that sold them. She was trying to stoke up the courage to go in when a very elegant woman emerged with several packages, adjusted the luxurious fur around her neck and set off down the street, her expensive perfume lingering behind her.

Ruby watched her for a long moment, then gathered her courage, gripped her handbag and pushed through the door. Her money and clothing coupons were as good as anyone else’s – and she’d been looking forward to this all day.

The hushed interior of the department store was rather daunting, but Ruby ignored the blatantly snooty stares of the elderly saleswomen and took her time to look at every counter. She didn’t want to miss anything, for it was like a treasure trove, with gorgeous bottles of scent, glittering paste jewellery, real leather handbags and shoes – and dozens of glamorous hats with feathers and ribbons of every colour. There were boxes of coloured soaps, bottles of lotions and creams, and numerous powder compacts and silver cigarette cases. It seemed that war didn’t touch those who had money to spend on such luxuries.

Like a child in a sweet shop, Ruby continued her exploration of this wondrous place, resisting the urge to touch and caress the things she saw, for she was aware that her every move was being watched as she passed through the different departments. They no doubt thought she was in here to nick something, and she couldn’t blame them, for she certainly looked out of place amongst the smart ladies in their tweed suits and fur wraps.

She finally came to the clothing department and gazed in awe at the rows of ballgowns and cocktail dresses which wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Hollywood film. The women of Cliffehaven must be very rich indeed, and Ruby suddenly wondered if she wasn’t pushing her luck by even coming in here.

‘Can I help you, modom?’

Ruby looked up into the snooty face and suspicious eyes of a woman who was probably in her late, well-preserved forties. In a black dress and high heels, she was as thin as a rake and wore far too much make-up. ‘Yeah, you can,’ said Ruby, bolstered by the knowledge she had money to spend. ‘I’m looking for a warm coat and some other bits and pieces.’

The cool gaze went the length of the narrow nose and the bony shoulders stiffened. ‘Modom might find something more suitable in Hathaway’s,’ she replied flatly.

Ruby had never heard of the place, but could imagine the racks of cheap clothes that wouldn’t last more than a couple of washes. She smiled back, ready to do battle. ‘Really? And why’s that?’

There was the hint of a disdainful sniff. ‘Modom will find that Hathaway’s prices are suited to the more modest budget. Plummer Roddis prides itself on selling only the finest of merchandise.’

Ruby grinned. ‘That’s why I come in ’ere,’ she replied, and set off towards one of the racks of coats before the other woman could stop her. She reached out and touched the lovely softness of a caramel-coloured three-quarter-length coat that had a silky brown lining and two real leather buttons. Her eyes widened in shock as she glanced at the tag. The price would have fed a family of four for a month, and take twenty of her clothing coupons – but Ruby was in no mood to let that stop her. ‘Have you got this in my size?’

The woman reluctantly plucked one of the coats from the rail and took an inordinate amount of time undoing the buttons and the belt before she held it out for Ruby to slip on.

Ruby felt the downy weight of the coat settle on her narrow shoulders as the lining slithered with a whisper over her tatty cardigan and thin dress. When she turned to look at herself in the cheval mirror she couldn’t help but grin with pleasure. The caramel went lovely with her nut-brown hair, even if the coat did look a bit silly with a cotton dress, socks and sandals. ‘I’ll take it,’ she said as she tied the belt round her waist and turned this way and that to get the full effect.

The woman was clearly taken aback, and after a quick glance to make sure they weren’t being overheard, she leaned towards Ruby, her voice low. ‘Are you sure about this, dear? The price . . .’

‘Yeah, it’s steep all right, but I got the cash and enough coupons,’ replied Ruby, glad that the woman had lost her stiffness and was actually being nice. ‘Now, I need to look at the skirts and jumpers, and ’ave you got trousers? Only I’m gunna need a pair for work.’

‘If they’re for work, then I suggest you go to Hathaway’s,’ she said quietly. ‘They do a good line in utility clothing, the cost is very reasonable, and of course you’d need fewer coupons.’

Ruby conceded that this was a good idea, and happily followed her across the vast department to where the skirts and sweaters were displayed. Now the other woman had shown her more human side, Ruby felt far more relaxed as she tried on several of the lovely skirts they had in her size. She chose one in a lovely lavender tweed, and then picked out a blue sweater that was as light and soft as a feather.

‘If you’re going on a real shopping spree, then you’ll need some shoes,’ said the woman, who’d unbent enough to tell Ruby her name was Lois Chapman and who seemed to be enjoying herself despite her initial frostiness.

‘I think we’d better add this lot up first,’ said Ruby. ‘Don’t wanna get too carried away.’ She rested her cheap handbag on the top of a glass cabinet displaying trays of leather gloves and silk scarves while her purchases were totted up. She was feeling a bit nervous now, for this place could get through money and clothing coupons in a heartbeat, and by her reckoning she was at the limit of her clothing allowance.

‘That all comes to twenty guineas and fifty-six coupons.’ Lois Chapman looked at her anxiously. ‘That’s almost a whole year’s clothing coupons. Are you sure you’ve got enough?’

Ruby sighed with relief as she snapped open the clasp on her handbag and pulled out the thirty quid she’d set aside for her shopping spree. She counted out twenty-one pounds and added the right number of coupons. There was plenty left over – certainly enough for a pair of shoes.

She looked up in triumph at Lois, saw the shock in her eyes as she regarded the roll of money, and hurried to reassure her. ‘I been saving up me coupons, and me ’usband’s ever so generous,’ she said with a grin.

‘It’s a good thing you came in today,’ said Lois. ‘The clothing ration is being cut to forty-eight a year from tomorrow.’

Ruby popped the receipt and the change in her bag and snapped it shut. ‘Then we’d better go and find them shoes, eh Lois?’

The shopping expedition turned into a happy occasion as Lois got into the swing of things and brought shoes for Ruby to try on and helped her decide what would be best to go with the new outfit. Ruby finally chose a lovely pair of navy and white ones with a low heel, which were so comfortable she felt she could walk in them for hours.

The department store was about to close by the time Ruby walked confidently through the door in her new overcoat, lavender skirt, sweater and low-heeled two-tone shoes. She felt warm and knew she looked ever so smart despite the bruise and the sticking plaster – and that she smelled nice too, for once she’d said a grateful goodbye to Lois in the dress department, she’d treated herself to a little bottle of rose scent from the perfume counter. There was a lovely red woollen scarf for Stan the stationmaster tucked away in her bag with her old dress and cardigan, and now all she had to do was find Hathaway’s and get a couple of pairs of cheap trousers, some underwear, socks and sturdy lace-up shoes.

She walked happily down the High Street as the sun began to sink behind the rooftops and the breeze turned chilly. After Hathaway’s she would go back to her billet, have tea and climb into that lovely comfy bed for a long, well-deserved kip so she’d be fresh for her new job in the morning. Life away from London and Ray was definitely looking much brighter, and she refused to let the darker worries trouble her on such an extraordinary day.

Peggy had fulfilled her promise to Stan, and had telephoned him later that morning with the news that Ruby Clark had found a very good billet with Councillor Fraser and his wife, and work at the tool factory, and was obviously not quite as helpless as she’d looked. He’d sounded relieved, dear man, and had thanked her profusely.

She had helped Cordelia wash and dry the breakfast dishes, and then, as it was such a pleasant day, she’d unearthed the old deckchairs from the shed and they’d sat in the sunshine with their knitting, Daisy gurgling happily in her pram beside them. Lunch was leisurely, for all the girls were at work and Ron was at the pub, so Peggy had made them both a hot cup of Bovril and boiled egg sandwiches which they ate in the back garden after she’d fed Daisy.

It was now mid-afternoon and Peggy had even managed to drink most of a bottle of the hated milk stout. ‘It’s good to see you taking it easy for a change,’ said Cordelia as she peered over her half-moon glasses and rested her knitting in her lap.