The House by Princes Park (41 page)

Ruby couldn’t find much sympathy for the speaker, an aggressive, well-spoken journalist who claimed she’d been thwarted on numerous occasions when she’d applied for
promotion. ‘I wouldn’t like to work for
her
,’ she whispered. Beth just smiled.

When the meeting was over, an all-women rock group appeared to entertain them. By the time they’d finished. Ruby was ready for bed.

Next morning, she put on her other frock – turquoise with little gold beads around the neck – and applied her make-up with extra care for the visit to the White House, hoping her hand wouldn’t shake as she drew a fine black line around each eye – Moira and Ellie claimed eyeliner made her look exotic and glamorous.

‘I’m not too old for it at fifty-seven?’ Ruby had asked them anxiously. ‘I don’t want to look like mutton dressed up as lamb.’

‘You always look gorgeous, Gran. Everyone at school thinks you’re our mother.’

Last night at the meeting there’d hardly been anyone wearing make-up, or frocks, come to that. They’d mostly been like Beth, in jeans and T-shirts.

‘Will you be comfortable like that?’ Beth enquired at breakfast.

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

Beth shrugged. ‘No reason. Let’s not dawdle over coffee. People are already beginning to collect outside.’

‘What for?’

‘The march to the White House.’

An hour later, Ruby found herself in the blazing sunshine marching up and down Pennsylvania Avenue in front of an impressive white building holding a placard bearing the message, ‘Equal Pay for Equal Work’, a concept with which she fully agreed, but she’d been expecting something other than a march. Not only that, the gold sandals had started to pinch, her feet hurt, she was perspiring from every pore, and her throat was as dry as a bone. She was beginning to wonder if there’d ever be time
to go sightseeing or whether the week ahead was to be a long series of demonstrations and marches.

‘Have you come far?’

She turned to find a young woman beside her. ‘England,’ she replied in a cracked voice.

‘We’re from New Zealand. I’m with my mum. She’s back there somewhere.’ The girl gestured vaguely. ‘They weren’t doing much to celebrate International Women’s Year at home and Mum was determined to experience at least a bit of it. It’s wonderful, isn’t it? The feeling of sisterhood, of women being in charge, able to do things that men have always insisted that they couldn’t. I wonder if there’ll ever be a woman President one day – of America, that is.’

‘I don’t see why not.’

‘Well, there’s not much sign of it yet,’ the girl said, her face glowing with youthful indignation. ‘Don’t you feel as mad as hell when you see all the world leaders together on television and there’s not a single woman amongst them?’

‘I do. I feel outraged.’

‘It’s not fair, is it? Why should it only be men who have a say in how the world is run when more than half the population are women?’

‘You’re right. It’s not a bit fair.’

‘Oh, my mum’s calling me. Well, it was nice talking to you. Perhaps we’ll come across each other again some time.’

‘I hope so.’ Ruby smiled. For the first time, she was aware she was taking part in a great event. The women began to sing ‘We Shall Overcome’, and she joined in, moved and uplifted in a way she’d never felt before. Later, she’d buy jeans, a couple of T-shirts, and some comfortable shoes, and leave the pretty, entirely unsuitable frocks for when she got home. It seemed unlikely she’d sail along the Potomac, visit a single museum or gallery, and this was as near as she would get to the White House. Still, it was
International Women’s Year and she was determined to enjoy the experience to the full.

After a rally and numerous speeches, they returned to the hotel for dinner which was followed by a black factory worker describing how the female workforce had been sexually harrassed, then sacked when they’d demanded to be represented by a union. Three years later, after a vigorous campaign, they’d been reinstated and the union recognised. The entire room erupted in cheers when the woman finished.

Later, Ruby, Beth, and half a dozen other women went to a nearby basement club and drank too much wine. Ruby wondered aloud why every single person there was female. ‘Are men banned?’ she enquired.

‘No, but they’re not exactly welcome,’ she was told.

‘Why not?’

‘It’s a lesbian bar, honey.’

Had Beth become a lesbian? Ruby asked her when they got back to the hotel. They stopped in the foyer to buy coffee from the machine and went to sit in the lounge.

‘Of course not, idiot.’ Beth laughed. ‘But we have to show solidarity with all our sisters, Rube, whatever their colour, race, or sexual disposition. Women should stick together.’

‘That woman last night, the one on about the glass ceiling, she was pushy and aggressive and would make a terrible boss. I don’t see why I should show solidarity with someone like her.’

‘Why should only men be allowed to become terrible bosses?’ Beth said reasonably. ‘No one’s saying all women are nice, but being nasty doesn’t stop men from getting on.’

‘Gosh, Beth, you’ve changed.’ Ruby stared at her friend’s gritty, determined face. ‘There was a time when you never had a sensible idea in your head. Now you’re full of them.’

‘If my marriage had been different, I’d be at home baking cookies and keeping the house nice, bemoaning the fact that one of my kids was dead and the others were married. But I was forced to do something or go under. The more I did, the more I became involved and the more I changed. Things mattered that I’d never thought about before.’

Ruby nodded. ‘And now it’s Daniel stuck at home. Is he happy?’

‘Not really. He can’t stop mourning Seymour. I don’t like leaving him, but he left me when
I
was unhappy. I suppose that sounds selfish, but I don’t care.’

‘You still loved Jacob, though he did much worse than that.’

‘I still love Daniel. I’m just putting myself first.’

‘I’ve never been able to do that,’ Ruby said with a sigh. ‘The girls have always come first with me, then
their
girls. They’d never manage without me.’

‘Are you quite sure about that, Rube?’ Beth’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you honestly saying Greta and Heather wouldn’t have somehow coped if you hadn’t been around? People usually do. You know the old dictum, “No one’s indispensable.” ’

‘Are
you
saying I’ve wasted my life?’ Ruby replied hotly.

‘No, but you’ve done exactly what you wanted to do, Ruby. Don’t get angry.’ She put her hand on Ruby’s arm. ‘You’d make a lousy employee. If the boss looked at you sidewise, you’d bawl him out. You can’t stand criticism. You need to be top dog, to be in charge. So, you created your own little world and crowned yourself its queen. Don’t tell me you haven’t been contented with your lot, for most of the time, that is.’

‘I suppose I have, but what if Larry and Rob hadn’t been killed and the girls hadn’t come back home? What would I have done then?’

‘Married Chris, trained for a career, ended up as
someone important. You have to be
important
, Rube. Remember how much we all needed you during the war? You revelled in it.’

‘Did I?’

‘You certainly did.’

Ruby would have liked to continue the conversation, but more women came into the lounge and joined them, and a different conversation ensued well into the early hours.

The rest of the week flew by. By the time it ended, Ruby had learnt more about herself and the rest of the world than she had during her entire lifetime. In the past, she’d watched television or read the paper and complained loudly to whoever would listen about the injustices in the world, but apart from the years in Foster Court, she’d never had to struggle. She’d worked hard, but had never fought for anything in her life. Compared to many of the women she’d met that week, she’d had things easy. When she got home, she was determined do something, join something, read the books she’d bought from the numerous stalls and broaden her education. Most of her life had been spent in a rather comfortable rut – with the help of Matthew Doyle, she realised thirty years too late.

On her final afternoon, Beth took her on the metro to City Place, a bargain mall, where Ruby bought a long cream jacket to wear with the jeans she’d got earlier in the week – she’d travel home in the new outfit, give everyone a surprise. She chose little gifts, mainly ethnic jewellery, for the girls, and hesitated a while over a navy silk tie with a tiny embroidered White House on the front before deciding to buy it.

‘Who’s that for?’ Beth asked.

‘Matthew Doyle.’ It wasn’t much, but it was a gesture.

Ruby wasn’t the only one leaving next morning. The night was spent wishing a tearful farewell to women with
whom she’d become instant friends and was unlikely ever to see again. It finished with drinks and a singsong in the hotel where the warm, comradely atmosphere was thick with emotion and virtually the whole room was in tears.

Nothing would ever be the same again, Ruby thought dismally. Life would be unbearably dull back in Liverpool.

Saying goodbye to Beth next morning was the worst thing of all. They could hardly speak, just clung to each other at the airport until Beth pushed her away, saying gruffly, ‘You’ll miss the plane.’

‘Bye, Beth.’

‘Tara, Rube,’ Beth said, lapsing into a Liverpool accent for the first time. Ruby burst into tears.

It had been an exhausting seven days. For most of the flight, she slept soundly, but woke up feeling not even faintly refreshed. Her legs could barely carry her when she walked down the steps and her feet touched the tarmac in Manchester airport.

She caught a taxi home; hang the expense. All she wanted was to see her family, give them their presents, then go to bed, where she would probably sleep for a week.

Mrs Hart’s house looked smaller than she remembered and much shabbier. The front door opened when she was paying the taxi driver and Greta came out. Ruby thought she’d come to help carry her bag as she didn’t think she had the strength left to lift it.

Instead, Greta said in a tragic voice, ‘Oh, Mam! Our Ellie’s disappeared. According to Moira, she’s run away to Dublin with that student, Liam Conway. Oh, Mam! What are we going to do?’

At that particular moment, Ruby had no idea.

It wasn’t the only thing that had happened, just the worst. Three fifteen-year-old French students were arriving on Monday.

‘Some woman rang to ask if it was all right,’ Heather told her. ‘I said it was.’

‘But I wasn’t expecting them until the week after!’ Ruby cried. She’d like to bet no one had cleared up after Frank, Muff and Liam. From previous experience, the rooms were usually a tip, full of rubbish and unwanted belongings, when their occupants left for good.

Ellie wasn’t the only one in disgrace. Daisy had given up her office job and was working as an usherette in the Forum.

‘An usherette!’ Ruby said faintly. ‘Is that where she is now?’

‘Yes.’ Heather pursed her angry lips. ‘She didn’t discuss it with me first, just gave in her notice weeks ago and swore Matthew to secrecy. I’d have given him a piece of my mind, except he’s already got troubles of his own.’

‘What sort of troubles?’ Had she really only been away a week? It felt more like a month, or six months.

The news about Matthew Doyle had been in the
Echo
. The dampcourses were faulty on an estate of 250 houses that his firm had built and the sub-contractors responsible had declared themselves bankrupt.

‘Uncle Matt’s got to put them right, but it’s not covered by the insurance. It’ll cost the earth,’ Moira told her. Moira was also in disgrace, having known all along what her sister was planning to do, yet kept it to herself.

‘Sly little monkey,’ Greta snapped during the argument that followed.

‘Not as sly as our Daisy,’ Heather countered.

‘I promised to keep it a secret,’ Moira said, unperturbed. ‘I wasn’t prepared to break me promise. What do you think, Gran?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ replied a distraught Ruby. ‘I’m incapable of thought at the moment.’

‘The holiday doesn’t seem to have done you much good,’ Greta said huffily.

‘The holiday did me a world of good, but coming home’s done me no good at all. I was only tired before. Now, I feel as if the world’s collapsed around my ears.’

And no one had noticed she was wearing jeans.

Perhaps the events in Washington had made Ruby more tolerant. When she thought about it the next day, she couldn’t see much harm in what her granddaughters had done. Ellie had acted very irresponsibly, but she would be eighteen in September, an adult. At the same age, Ruby had had two children and was living in Foster Court.

As for Moira, the girl had made a promise and felt morally obliged to keep it. Her loyalty was to her twin, not to her mother. And what would Greta have done if she’d been told of Ellie’s plans – tied her headstrong daughter to the bed for the rest of her life?

Furthermore, it was entirely understandable that Daisy hasn’t told anyone except Matthew she was leaving. Heather would have tried to stop her, yet the girl clearly wasn’t cut out for office work. Ruby admired her enormously for having taken charge of her young life.

Daisy came with her to midday Mass. She loved her new job, she declared. ‘All you have to do is show people to their seats, and you can tell by the colour of the tickets what section they should be in. Of course,’ she went on importantly, ‘you have to be careful not to shine the torch in anyone’s eyes.’

‘Doesn’t it get a bit boring?’ Ruby asked.

‘Not really, Gran. I watched
The Sting
twice because Robert Redford’s so gorgeous, but once the picture starts, you can stand outside the door and talk to the other usherettes. I don’t feel even the littlest bit stupid and some of them are dead envious I’m engaged to Clint. He came one night to see
The Sting
– we let him in for nothing,’ she added in a whisper, as if the manager of the Forum was within earshot.

‘I’m glad you’re happy, love. Did Matthew mind you going?’

‘No. He wished me luck and said to take as long as I liked to find another job. Oh, Gran, I don’t half feel sorry for him. He’s in terrible trouble.’