Blue Moon (15 page)

‘I was thinking we could use the front parlour,’ said Ruby and, seeing the look on her mother’s face, she added quickly, ‘I know all your best stuff is in there, but a good lodger would mean a steady income.’

To her surprise, Bea nodded.

‘Or we could use Percy’s room. He said he was going to be in digs.’

‘No,’ said Bea vehemently. ‘I want a home for my boy to come back to.’

‘Supposing he got married,’ said Ruby. ‘We could use his room then.’

Her mother looked shocked. ‘Is that what he said? That he was getting wed?’

‘Well … no,’ said Ruby, ‘but Percy is very good-looking. I can’t see him being on his own for long.’

Her mother relaxed with a smile.

‘See?’ said Ruby. ‘I told you we’d work something out.’ She leaned over the bed and kissed her mother as she would a frightened child who had had a nightmare. ‘Now don’t worry.’

Bea caught her hand. ‘You’re a good girl, Ruby,’ she smiled. ‘It’s a good job you don’t have any plans of your own.’

Back in the warmth of her own bed, Ruby struggled to get warm again. What a change – how different things were. Because of her father’s death, her whole world had been turned upside down. Yes, it was a good job she had no plans of her own; and the sad thing was she probably would never have a chance to reach for the stars now.

Although the other girls complained that it was unfair that she hadn’t been given any time off, Ruby was glad of her work at Warnes. It gave her time to think. As she vacuumed and dusted, she pondered the anomalies surrounding her father’s death. She knew Nelson couldn’t swim – few fishermen ever learned, in case they tempted fate – but it had come as a real shock that he had drowned. She’d never actually been on his boat. He’d always considered it bad luck to take a woman out to sea; or at least that’s what he’d told her, when she’d begged him to take her with him, as a little girl. She’d been around long enough to know that Nelson treated the sea with great respect. He never took unnecessary risks and he was meticulous about his fishing gear. The weather wasn’t perfect that day, but until the
morning it wasn’t that bad, either. Ruby just couldn’t work out what had gone wrong. And something else was odd: he never fished alone. For her father to have set sail, Percy must have been there.

She remembered that the two of them had had a row that night. A lot had been said, and Percy had gone off in a huff, but the fact that she’d seen him creeping back later that night must have meant that Percy had come home for his fishing boots. What else would he have come back for? Of course that didn’t answer the question as to why he had been so shifty about it, and why he hadn’t come forward to tell everybody how his father fell overboard. Why didn’t he raise the alarm? Where was Percy now? It seemed very odd that he hadn’t even bothered to make contact with their mother. Percy was hot-headed, but he had always been a loving son towards her.

Ruby did her work quickly and quietly, without any thought. Strip the bed, remake it with clean laundry, dust the bedside tables and chairs, not forgetting the picture frames, and make sure the skirting boards were clean. Then it was the bathrooms: put out clean towels, Vim the toilet bowl and gumption the bath, wash the floor. One by one the rooms were done and the doors closed.

As she worked, she thought about her mother and her little sister, May. Bea had apparently taken her loss very well. Ruby didn’t want to think about that strange look of elation that her mother had hidden behind her hand. It was most likely nerves. She remembered some
years ago, when Linus Todd had been killed by a motor car, his wife Letty had laughed her head off when they told her. Aunt Vinny had to slap her across the face to stop her. Hysterics they’d called it. Perhaps her mother had felt the same. Poor Letty Todd was only a shadow of herself now, and on the parish because she was too ill to work. Ruby didn’t want her mother to end up the same way. Bea wasn’t robust enough to get a job and besides, if she did, who would look after May? One thing was for sure: until Percy showed up again, they would have to fend for themselves, and Ruby’s wage couldn’t keep them all. She’d have to stop her German lessons, of course. If only she had kept the whole of that five pounds. Everything happens for a reason, so they say, and that money would have been more than helpful, if she’d kept it.

May seemed to be taking everything in her stride. She enjoyed being the centre of attention, and she certainly was when she was with Susan Marley. Susan was what the people around them called a ‘homely’ woman. She was plump and enjoyed a good laugh. It was hard to remember a time when Susan wasn’t laughing. She was warm-hearted and generous, the sort of neighbour who stepped in when anyone was in trouble. She had been married, but her husband had died a long time ago, when Ruby was a child. She’d probably been told what happened, but she couldn’t remember now. Susan loved children, but she herself was childless. The kids in the street hung around her door because they knew she would give them a home-made cake or
a biscuit or, better still, invite them in and let them play shops or dressing-up in her chaotic front room. Most of the mothers used Susan as an unofficial children’s nurse, and so when she was with Susan, May had no shortage of playmates or babies to help look after.

Ruby had talked to May about their father. ‘Pa’s gone to heaven to be with Jesus,’ she told her. ‘He didn’t want to go, but he had to. You do understand, don’t you, darling?’

May had nodded gravely and gone off to play with a little boy who was hanging around Susan Marley’s door. She only made one other reference to her father, and that was when she heard one of the neighbours saying to Bea, ‘He’s in a better place.’

‘Is heaven nice?’ May had asked Ruby, as she’d tucked her into bed that night.

‘They say it’s a beautiful place,’ said Ruby.

‘Do they have flowers in heaven?’

‘I’m sure they do.’

‘And fish?’

Ruby was a little puzzled by the jump, but she smiled. ‘Yes.’

‘Then Pa will have plenty to do,’ said May, rolling over and pulling the bedclothes over her shoulders.

The watery dawn crept silently through a chink in the curtains of her bedroom. She stirred, opened her eyes and looked at his picture. She could have sworn she had just heard his voice again, but maybe it was the stuff of dreams. She reached out her hand and turned
the frame slightly, so that she could see him better. The hand that adjusted the picture frame was ageing. She had wrinkles now, and her skin was lax. He, on the other hand, hadn’t aged at all. He smiled that same unseeing smile from behind the glass, looking more like a boy than the man she remembered.

‘Good morning, my darling.’ And her heart almost stopped beating as she heard him whisper back, ‘Good morning, Freddie.’

As Ruby stepped out in the corridor with only one more room to clean, she felt a presence behind her. She turned slowly and jumped. A woman was watching her from the top of the back staircase. Ruby half-expected to see Mrs Fosdyke. The housekeeper had a propensity for sneaking up on her staff, trying to catch them out, but instead Ruby faced an attractive young woman.

‘Oh, Ruby,’ she cried, ‘it’s so good to see you again.’

It took a couple of seconds for Ruby to realize that the young woman was Imogen Russell. She was dressed in a striking coat of midnight-blue with a matching hat. The dress underneath was silk, in a matching colour with white polka dots. Her hair and face were flawless and, as she came nearer, Ruby caught a whiff of expensive perfume. She also became aware that her own mouth had dropped open.

‘I’m so glad I found you,’ Imogen smiled. ‘I’ve been back to the hotel a couple of times. I always came up the back stairs, in case I got you into trouble.’ Standing
next to Ruby, she whispered conspiratorially, ‘I didn’t want anyone asking a lot of awkward questions.’

As she took Ruby’s hands warmly in hers, Ruby smiled back. ‘Oh, Miss. You look so well.’

‘I am well,’ said Imogen. ‘You saved my life that day, Ruby. No, no, don’t shake your head like that – you did. You really did.’

‘I only did what anyone else would have done,’ said Ruby modestly.

‘We both know that’s not true,’ said Imogen. ‘That’s why I simply had to come back and thank you in person.’

‘Your father …’ Ruby began.

‘I want to give you a gift for getting me to hospital in time,’ said Imogen, pushing something into Ruby’s hand.

‘There’s no need, Miss,’ said Ruby, but Imogen insisted.

‘That’s very kind of you, Miss,’ said Ruby. ‘Are you fully recovered?’

They both knew what she meant.

‘I was an absolute idiot,’ said Imogen. ‘He was married, of course, although I didn’t know it at the time. When I told him what had happened, he seemed to think we could carry on as before.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Ruby.

‘Men are all absolute rotters,’ said Imogen, a flicker of anger chasing the smile from her lips.

‘Not all of them, Miss,’ said Ruby sagely. ‘You’ll find a better one.’

‘I hope so,’ said Imogen. ‘My father is taking me
abroad for a while: the south of France and then on to Italy. He seems to think a trip to Europe will perk me up, after my appendix operation.’ She laughed gaily and Ruby joined in.

‘He never found out then,’ said Ruby, ‘what really happened?’

‘No, thank God.’

‘I’m sure you’ll make an excellent recovery, Miss.’

Imogen made as if to go, then turned back. ‘Why don’t you come with me, Ruby? I could take you as my maid.’

‘Oh, Miss, I can’t.’

‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,’ said Imogen. ‘Oh, do come. It will be the most amazing experience for you. You’ll see Paris and Cannes, and then Rome and Venice. You’d love it, I’m sure you would. Oh, do say yes.’

Ruby caught her breath. ‘Oh, Miss, it sounds wonderful,’ she began, ‘but I have … responsibilities.’

‘You’re married?’

‘No, Miss.’

It was then that Imogen caught sight of the black band on Ruby’s left arm. ‘Oh, Ruby,’ she cried. ‘I’m so sorry. What happened?’

‘My father,’ said Ruby. ‘He was a fisherman and he drowned a few days ago.’

Imogen Russell looked genuinely shocked. ‘You poor girl. If there is anything I can do …?’

Ruby faltered. What could she say? Miss Russell was clearly very wealthy, and her own family didn’t even
have enough money to bury her father, but it really wasn’t the done thing to ask for financial help. She wouldn’t dare. But there was one thing, and the earnest look on Imogen’s face made her bold.

‘Would you …?’ Ruby hesitated.

‘Yes – anything.’

‘Would you send me a postcard?’

‘A postcard?’

‘I should love to have a postcard from Paris or Rome,’ said Ruby.

‘Of course I will!’ cried Imogen. ‘Give me your address, and consider it done.’ She fished around in her bag and drew out a small notebook and a propelling pencil. Ruby selected a blank page and wrote down her mother’s address in a firm hand.

‘Do you have family?’ Imogen asked.

‘I live with my mother, my older brother and my little sister,’ Ruby told her as she wrote.

‘When your responsibilities are over,’ said Imogen, scribbling her own address onto another sheet of paper, ‘let me know, and I’ll give you a job. You deserve more than this, Ruby. Come and work for me, and you’ll see the world.’

‘Thank you,’ said Ruby, scarcely able to believe what had just happened. She glanced anxiously around the corridor. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, Miss – Mrs Fosdyke may be here at any minute.’

‘The dreaded Mrs Fosdyke,’ Imogen grinned. Acting on impulse, she rubbed Ruby’s arm affectionately. ‘I am so sorry for your loss.’ Then, hurrying back down the
hallway, she gave Ruby a final wave at the top of the back stairs and was gone.

It wasn’t until she came to change her handbag that Cousin Lily remembered her promise. How could she have so easily forgotten the man who had accosted her outside the Town Hall?

The past couple of days had been hectic. Her employer, Miss Rothermere, was leaving for Yorkshire and, as her personal servant, Lily was expected to get everything ready. The house in Richmond Road had a cook/housekeeper who came in every day, but as the only living-in member of staff, Lily was left with all of the packing. Mr and Mrs Drury, Miss Rothermere’s nephew and his wife, had Lily dashing about morning, noon and night. ‘Auntie’s books need to go in that trunk, Cutler. The red one is for her china.’ ‘Cutler, where are Auntie’s best shoes?’ ‘I can’t find Auntie’s amethyst brooch, Cutler. Which jewellery box did you put it in?’ Lily was exhausted with it all.

The stroke had rendered Miss Rothermere almost helpless. She could speak, but her words were slurred and she often became very emotional. Until the Drurys had come to Worthing, Lily would take time to listen to the old lady and eventually she would understand what she wanted, but Mrs Drury considered anything done slowly meant that Lily was slacking. ‘Come along, Cutler, don’t stand there dithering. We haven’t got all day.’ Her constant carping meant that Miss Rothermere was reduced to tears, and Mrs Drury’s glare implied
that whatever had upset ‘poor Auntie’ was Lily’s fault. There had been times when Lily wished she could have gone to Yorkshire with her employer, but now she was glad she’d never even been asked. For two pins, Lily would have walked out, but she hoped that if she stuck it out for a few days more, they would give her a handsome tip when they left. They could certainly afford it, according to the chauffer who had brought them down from Yorkshire. Mr Drury was more grateful than his wife. When he was in the room or they passed each other in the corridor, he would give Lily a wink or a warm smile, if his wife wasn’t looking; and once or twice when they were together in close proximity, she’d felt his hand on her back or he would pat her bottom.

Of course, Lily wasn’t stupid. She knew better than to encourage him. She didn’t want him turning up in her bedroom in the dead of night, but a little harmless flirting never did anyone any harm.

Saturday had been particularly trying but, alone in her room, Lily had decided to make sure her mourning clothes were ready for Uncle Nelson’s funeral on Monday. Miss Rothermere was leaving at ten and the service started at noon, so she would have no time on the day.