Ruby's War (22 page)

When the carols and the readings had ended, the soldiers gave out the sweets and chocolate to the excited children,
and although Ruby and Pauline thought they were a bit old for such treats, they queued up with the rest.

‘I see that Mrs Grey's not here,' Jenny said, as she tucked the chocolate Ruby had been given into her bag. ‘I've just heard him telling somebody that she's too ill to come, but Henry saw her going off in her brother's car. She'd not want to face these lads. That's what it will be, after her trying to get them stopped from coming here.'

‘You was that good, Ruby,' Sadie said. ‘Wasn't she, Ma?'

‘Aye, very good.'

Ruby smiled and Granddad winked at her. ‘Theatre's in the family,' he said. ‘Isn't it, love?'

Ruby blushed. She was enjoying the attention, and although the money she was going to get was important, she couldn't help feeling pleased by the admiring glances and smiles from the people who'd been in the audience. Father O'Flynn had squeezed her arm, and even Miss Conway smiled. The only thing that spoilt it was that Mrs Grey wasn't there.

‘I think it must have been what Mrs Prendergast told her,' she said.

‘What do you mean?' Sadie asked, accepting a cigarette from Jenny.

‘She said, in America … Well, they don't mix, and so they shouldn't here.'

‘She didn't have to agree with her, now did she? Doctor Grey doesn't. He's here,' she said. ‘He's over there chatting with some of the lads now. So why is she so set on it?'

Ruby didn't reply, but she knew that it was probably something to do with them being friends: Doctor Grey was
away a lot, and organising the fundraising lunches and other things with the Prendergasts made her happy. Ruby could understand that. Mrs Grey was probably lonely; Mrs Prendergast was her friend, even though she was as old as Auntie Ethel and really bossy. She walked over to Pauline, who was helping her little brother on with his coat.

‘I still take Bess out sometimes,' she said. ‘I could bring her down to the rec again, or we could take her out for a walk … Next Sunday, I could—'

‘I'm going to Anne's Sunday afternoon,' Pauline said, as the little boy tugged her towards the door. ‘We're putting up their tree. I'll have to go. My mum's over there waiting for us.'

That evening there were shirts to soak. After tea, Sadie and Bo had gone into town, and then Jenny and Granddad left for the pub. But when the door closed behind them, instead of settling into a placid silence, the house felt uneasy. Ruby wandered between the dismal front room and the kitchen. Before Bo became Sadie's boyfriend, she would have gone across the lane and asked Mrs Lathom if she might have Bess for company. But now, when she asked if Bess could come and stay with her, Mrs Lathom made an excuse, although she still allowed her to take the spaniel out for walks. Then, as Ruby was peering into the mirror over the sink, trying to twist up her hair into a sleek roll, the hens began to squawk. She picked up the long-handled brush, turned off the light and went into the garden. The henhouse was locked and the birds were safe. But close by, among the fruit bushes, there was an almost imperceptible movement. Using the brush, she slashed at the leaves: a prowling fox might not get in the cabin, but it might put the hens off laying. Then she stood in the starlit
garden and listened, until the hens began to settle. The air was damp, and once she was happy that she'd driven the fox away, she hurried back inside. For a moment, when she switched on the light, Ruby's brain refused to make sense of the black, formless thing crouched on the kitchenette. Then it turned towards her and spat. The animal, the largest, most evil-looking cat she had ever seen, held its ground, lashing out with its claws and hissing when she tried to dislodge it with the end of the brush. The creature was guarding the remnants of the chicken that she should have put away in the meat safe, and Ruby, who was poking at it furiously, didn't hear Mrs Bland at the door until she spoke.

‘It's only me, dear,' the old lady said, edging through the door. ‘I didn't mean to make you jump. I knocked at the front door, but no one answered. I'm looking for—Ah, you're here, and you've made friends already,' she said to the cat, as it began to rip at the remaining meat. ‘Is Ruby feeding you? How kind.'

‘He got in. I left the door open … I thought it was a fox going after the hens. That chicken … there was enough for tomorrow.'

‘Oh dear. Poor Ruby. Please don't be distressed. Was that for your …? Timoshenko can be such a rascal. I'll go and get his basket. Then, if we can persuade him into it … Yes. That might be best.'

The cat ignored his mistress's concern for Ruby's welfare, and turning its back on them both, continued eating the chicken. When the old lady had gone, Ruby pulled Henry's old coat from the back door and made a grab for it. The startled animal thrashed and yowled, but she hung on, rolling him inside the coat and carrying the struggling bundle
to Mrs Bland's cottage. Once he was released, Timoshenko took up position on the stairs, lashing and spitting furiously as his owner tried to scold him.

‘I know you didn't mean it, but it was very wrong of you to take Ruby's supper. It's his experience of the bombing, I'm afraid. He's had to fend for himself for some time and his manners are not what they should be. I'm sure if we leave him for a while, he'll calm down.'

Mrs Bland insisted on cleaning up Ruby's scratches with her own herbal liniment and then made cocoa. The little room was chilly and the old lady was wearing a selection of worn jumpers under her old tweed jacket. As they sipped their cocoa, she put a record on the gramophone and began nodding in time with the wistful music.

‘I've been meaning to ask if you would consider some cleaning. Have you some hours to spare? I need someone to help clean the books. You would need to be trained. They were bombed, and then the storage was less than satisfactory. They will need very careful treatment,' she said, picking up one of her grubby leather-bound books and brushing it as gently as if it were a child's sooty face. ‘I'm afraid I can't pay you much.'

‘I don't mind, but Jenny will expect … I have to pay my way. I'll be getting a job in a factory soon, but until then, I'd like to help.'

‘Ah, you're someone who loves books.'

‘Yes. I like reading. I've read all my dad's books.'

‘Now, what would you like, I wonder? You must let me think about that, and I'll see what I can find that might interest you.'

Once the excitement of the Nativity play was over, Ruby began to look forward to the time she spent with Mrs Bland and her angry cat. The war meant that Granddad, Jenny and Sadie were working longer hours. Often they would be on different shifts and want to eat at different times. There was a build-up of American troops as well. That meant Bo and the other GIs were busy bringing in more equipment and didn't visit so much. The house was often empty, and when she had finished her work, she would sometimes go and help Mrs Bland with her books. The war also meant that food was harder to get, and in addition to the cooking, Ruby was also responsible for the shopping and queuing.

She would often shop on her way to Doctor Grey's, and then on her way home she would sometimes walk the long way round through the village again to check if there was a queue outside the Co-op or the butcher's. At least, that's what she told herself, but the walk also took her by the school at about the time Pauline would be on her way home. A few days after the Nativity play, as Ruby turned the corner by the chemist's, there was a queue of women waiting outside the butcher's. She hurried across the road.

‘He's got pork,' the woman in front of her said. ‘That's the rumour. Pork, recently killed.'

Ruby pushed her hands deep into her pockets and hunched her shoulders against the damp. More people joined the queue, but the line in front didn't move. Up ahead of her, she could see Aunt Maud. She hadn't spoken to her since the day she'd let it slip to Jenny that she and Granddad had called at Maud's house. Her granddad still sent his sister vegetables and fruit from his garden, but now he didn't risk taking the parcels himself. He was so
scared of Jenny that – instead of handing the vegetables over to Ruby in the garden – he would whisper that there was something for ‘our Maud' in the hedge by the gate and that she must leave it on Maud's doorstep on her way to Doctor Grey's.

‘Not a word to Jenny now, love,' he would murmur, ‘best to keep the peace.'

Alice and Dick would sometimes give her leftover food for ‘poor Maud' as well. And today, with a woollen shawl over her head and wrapped tightly over a shabby black dress, Auntie Maud reminded Ruby of the beggar women from the Marshalsea Prison in the book Mrs Bland had given her to read.

The shop window was empty, except for the statues of two smiling pigs, standing on their hind trotters and dressed in chef's outfits. Inside, the walls were tiled – white with a blue border. The waiting women chatted happily amongst themselves, pacifying their babies with the small home-made toys hanging from the hoods of the prams and keeping the toddlers occupied with small crusts of bread and promises of bacon for tea. The good-natured queue only began to turn restless when a well-dressed woman with bright-red lips hurried out of the shop, calling a cheery goodbye to the butcher. Her departure was followed by a ripple of discontent, as the women waiting in line took in the comfortable bulge under the snowy cloth covering her basket.

‘It's not fair.'

‘There'll be nowt left.'

‘Should be ashamed of himself.'

‘Wants reporting, he does.'

‘I'll bet that's the pig's heart and liver gone, for sure.'

‘More like a whole leg by the look of her basket.'

‘Perhaps he'll be calling round there for a bit of leg later on.'

‘How do you mean?'

‘Well, probably he's given her one of his legs and she's promised to show him hers.'

The women began to chuckle. When she heard the laughter, Maud glanced up, nodded in Ruby's direction and then turned away.

‘He can 'ave a look at mine any time for a nice bit of ham shank,' the toothless old lady next to Ruby said.

‘Now then, Ethel,' a woman further down the queue shouted, ‘what would your Albert say?'

Then the queue shuffled forwards up the worn stone steps and Ruby managed to squeeze inside the door. Mr Ashton, the butcher, was a large man of about fifty wearing a red striped apron. His sister, Agnes, a pale, humourless lady who wore thick spectacles, and a spotty boy called Fred were helping him to serve the customers. The queue moved slowly over the sawdust floor, until Ruby could see Maud in front of the marble-topped counter.

‘What can I get for you today, Miss Barton?' the butcher asked.

‘Sausages. Four, please.'

‘You've enough points for some …'

‘No. I fancy sausages, and some bones, if you have them, for the dog.'

The butcher nodded, and disappeared into the back of the shop. Ruby saw some of the women around her shift uneasily, while others lifted an eyebrow, but when the
butcher appeared with a lumpy parcel and dropped it into the old lady's basket, there wasn't any disapproval in the looks that passed between them.

Ruby managed to get belly pork and some bacon and paid for it with part of the money Doctor Grey had given her for her performance in the Nativity play. As she walked home, planning what she could make with the pork and thinking of how pleased everyone would be when they came in from work and smelt the bacon cooking inside the potato pie, she didn't see Johnny Fin pushing his bike along the road until he called to her.

‘Dick's given me some spuds. I've been givin' him a lift with the car. There's too many for me. I swapped some of 'em. I was on my way to drop the rest off for Maud, but you can save me the trip, if you will.'

‘She's just been in the butcher's. I'll try to catch her up,' Ruby said, taking the rough sack from Johnny.

‘Tell her there's something in there for Joe as well.'

The old lady was opening the front door to the little terraced cottage, when Ruby caught up with her.

‘This is from Johnny,' she said, handing the old lady the sack. ‘It's potatoes and something for Uncle Joe.'

‘It's you our Henry's got leaving stuff at my door, isn't it? You'll have to knock next time,' the old lady said.

‘I will,' she nodded breathlessly, but Maud had already gone inside, letting the door slam behind her.

When Ruby got home, the kitchen smelt of spice and the doors to the kitchenette were hanging open.

‘That you, Ruby?' Sadie called from the front room.

Sadie and Lou were sitting on the sofa, with Con squashed between them. Sadie's arm was in a sling. They
were each holding one of the tumblers from the top shelf of the kitchenette filled with red liquid.

‘What's happened?' Ruby asked.

‘Accident with the machine. I've had to have stitches. And he give me an injection for the pain. I think it's wearing off. It doesn't half hurt.'

‘She was lucky it didn't take her arm off,' Lou said, sipping the deep-red liquid from her glass.

‘Not be able to work for a bit. Told me to go back and see 'im in two weeks. I don't want to miss two weeks' money.'

‘Well, there's Christmas in between,' Lou said. ‘So you'll not be that bad, and there'll be a bonus. Should be. That's what I heard from our neighbour.'

‘I felt that faint I went round to Lou's, she walked back with me. Then Con turned up with a bottle of Buckie. At least, that's what it said it was on the label.'

Con smiled. ‘It was for Henry. He told me—'

‘Da won't mind. It's medicine. It's a tonic for me arm. Me and Lou need a tonic. Don't we, Lou? Want to try some, Ruby, love?' Sadie asked, waving the glass at her. ‘Oh, come on. He's brought some spices and some more of those cinnamon sticks as well. He's been showin' us about some of their Christmas customs in America. And very nice they are.'