A Mother Forever

by Elaine Everest

  ‘You don’t want a job, do you?’ Marge had asked as she’d joined Ruby, once her finger had stopped bleeding and had been dressed by Stella with a clean strip of rag.

  ‘She’s not been well,’ Stella said, giving Ruby a stern look in case she accepted the offer.

  ‘I can see she’s all skin and bones.’ Marge gave Ruby a look up and down. ‘I’d not run you into the ground like an old workhorse,’ she smiled. ‘You can tell me if you aren’t feeling good and I’d not expect you to be on your feet all day. It’s just that with my old man not around as much these days – he runs our other place in Bexleyheath – I could do with a bit of help serving and washing up, and perhaps making a few pies when we get short. You could sit down to do that,’ she added hopefully, watching Ruby to see how she was taking her offer. ‘If there’s anything left over at the end of the day, you can take it home with you . . .’

  Ruby was interested. It could be the answer to something that had been worrying her. In the few weeks she’d lived at number thirteen, she had come to love the solidly built house. She had a friend in Stella from across the road, and already other neighbours had stopped to enquire after her health and leave a few eggs, or vegetables from their back gardens. Although this was her first trip into the town, she knew Erith was the place for her and she didn’t want to leave if she could help it. However, there was the worry of keeping up with the rent – one of the reasons they’d had to move frequently when living in rooms in Woolwich and the surrounding area.

  ‘I have a little boy to care for and it depends on the pay, but don’t get me wrong, I need to find work . . .’ she said, trying to keep her excitement hidden. It always helped to barter a little, and Marge might be paying a pittance. She couldn’t work for nothing. Taking home stale bread and cake would not be so enticing if she was still short of money come payday.

  Marge cocked her head to one side. ‘I take it your lad goes to school?’

  Ruby beamed. ‘Yes, come September he starts at the school in Slades Green. Stella had a word with them for me while I was ill.’

  ‘It was the least I could do,’ Stella said. ‘My lads all enjoyed their time there. Even though there’s a school closer, young George will be hard pressed to get a better education this side of Kent.’

  ‘He’s already learnt some of his numbers and letters,’ Ruby said proudly. ‘Granted he’s my own flesh and blood, but I know he’s a bright kid, and with luck George will have a good future.’

  ‘I’ll second that,’ Stella agreed. ‘My youngest told me the lad’s as bright as a button picking up things. George follows him everywhere – like his little shadow, he is.’

  ‘That’s nice, ducks. Have you only got the one?’

  Stella watched Ruby’s face and noticed a shadow pass fleetingly over. Would she say anything about her recent loss?

  Ruby thought for a second. She knew it was best not to have secrets from someone she could be working with and who might soon be paying her wages. However, would Marge still employ her if she knew why she’d been so poorly only weeks before, and was just venturing out? In for a penny, she thought to herself. ‘My daughter was born only weeks ago but never took a breath. I’ve been ill since the birth. Stella here has been a diamond, considering I had never met her until I collapsed in front of her the day I was moving into my house down Alexandra Road.’

  Marge put down the teapot she was holding and hurried to envelop Ruby in her chubby arms. ‘My love, we could be sisters,’ she said, forgetting that she was twice the size of Ruby and much older. ‘You’ve been luckier than me, as not one of mine gasped a breath. It’s my one regret that I never gave my husband a child. Come on, let’s all sit down and have a cuppa while we work out how you can come here and work for me without your son suffering. I like you, Ruby Caselton. From the little I’ve seen, I know you’ve got pluck and will fit in just fine.’

  Eddie gave his wife a broad smile. ‘Well done, love, and with your mother doing her bit we will be living in clover, as they say.’

  ‘Only if you stay in work and don’t expect the pair of us to keep you in beer,’ Milly sneered. ‘At my age, I shouldn’t have to go to work. My other daughters may have something to say about this.’

  ‘You are welcome to go live with Fanny or Janie, Mum, but we will miss you. However, if you do intend to stay with us, it would be a great help if you could earn a few shillings to contribute to the coffers.’

  Milly was silent for a little while as she pondered what her daughter had said. ‘Who is going to look after the boy if we’re all out grafting? There again, Eddie’s sat there as quiet as the grave and not saying where he’s going to work next . . .’ she added, nodding to where Eddie was mopping up the last of the faggot gravy with a crust of bread. ‘Are you going to find a job, or will you be lazing about here and down the pub?’ When she didn’t get a reply, she kicked him under the table. ‘Oi, answer me. An elderly woman and a sickly wife should not be supporting you,’ she said.

  ‘Ouch – there was no need for that,’ he moaned, rubbing his shin. ‘I’ll go and find something tomorrow. Is that good enough for you?’

  ‘Make sure you do,’ Milly said, reaching for the brown earthenware teapot to top up her cup. She turned her attention to Ruby. ‘Tell me, who’s going to be looking after the lad with us all out of the house? Once he goes to school we’ll have to traipse back and forwards to Slades Green to get him there. I’m not sure it’s something I can do at my age.’

  Ruby laughed to herself. If she’d been a gambler she’d have laid good money on her mum saying that. However, one gambler in the house was enough. The few times she’d been to a pub with Eddie, she’d seen seedy-looking men sneakily collecting bets from the drinkers and taking them back to their bosses. It was a mug’s game and she’d not be part of it. Now they were settled here in Erith, she would do her hardest to make sure Eddie never lost another penny on a bet. ‘Stella told me that they’re taking men on down the coalyard, and Fraser’s have a board hung on the gate of the factory with a list of jobs that need filling. It seems the town is the good place to find work – that’s if someone is looking,’ she said, giving her husband a hard stare.

  ‘I said I’d look for some work and I mean it,’ he growled. ‘I’m going out the back to see what needs doing in the garden, and to get away from nagging women.’ He left the table. Ruby flinched as she heard the door slam so hard it almost bounced off its hinges.

  He’ll need to do more than look, she thought to herself. ‘As for George here,’ she said to Milly, ‘he can come with me when I start at the cafe the day after tomorrow; the owner said he can sit in the back room. She likes kids. She even said I can work me hours around dropping him off and collecting him. Once he knows the way down the cinder path he can walk to school on his own. However, tomorrow we’re going to ride on a tram to Northumberland Heath. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Georgie boy?’

  The lad’s eyes lit up. ‘Can we go on the upstairs part?’

  ‘If you want,’ she smiled, although she wasn’t looking forward to climbing to the top, not when the tram moved and electricity was involved – she wasn’t sure about these things at all. The thought of the tram made her feel wobbly, but she’d face her fear for the sake of her son – and also to make the journey to see the grave where her daughter lay at rest.

  ‘Come with us, Mum,’ she said, wanting more than anything for Milly to approve of what she planned to do.

  ‘If I’m to find myself a job, I’ll have to get cracking before I’m turned out with nowhere to live,’ Milly sniffed, giving Ruby her best hurt expression.

  Ruby took a deep breath as she stood beside George, looking at the imposing gate of Brook Street cemetery. They’d watched as an impressive funeral cortege had entered through the gates. Ruby recognized the horses wearing their black plumes and pulling the carriage she’d seen at the undertakers the previous day. In front she could see Ernie leading the procession at a respectful pace. The carriage was fol
lowed by many mourners, all dressed in black. Women were weeping openly in the second carriage that followed the one carrying the coffin. Ruby and George waited until they saw the mourners enter a small chapel in the grounds before taking slow steps in the same direction, passing row upon row of headstones. Ruby had never thought to ask where Miss Allinson, with whom her Sarah shared a grave, would be. Wherever should she start looking? ‘We will have to ask somebody for help,’ she said to a now pale-faced George. The excitement of travelling on a tram followed by the long walk down Brook Street past children playing in front of two-up, two-down houses had passed. He now looked unsure of his surroundings as he gripped her hand tightly.

  ‘Perhaps we should ask the man with the big stick,’ he suggested, pointing to where Ernie stood, having just exited the small chapel. From inside, mourners could be heard singing ‘Abide with Me’ as the service began.

  Ruby smiled at her son’s suggestion. ‘That is a walking cane,’ she explained, pointing to the ornate silver-tipped cane. ‘He uses it to guide the mourners from his place at the head of the possession. However, that is a good idea. I recognize the gentleman as someone I spoke to yesterday. Shall we go and speak to him, and perhaps you could look more closely at the horses?’

  Ernie, dressed in the formal attire of an undertaker, nodded formally to Ruby before removing his shiny black top hat. ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said politely. ‘You are a little late for the service, but I’m sure we can seat you at the back of the chapel if we are quiet.’

  Ruby shook her head, looking worried. The last thing she wanted was to have to sit through the funeral service of somebody she didn’t even know; she wasn’t sure George would like it either, never having attended such a ceremony before. She knew he was already unsettled by being in the cemetery. ‘No, thank you, I’m here to pay my respects to my daughter. You may recall you gave me some information yesterday?’ While she spoke, George was happily being lifted up by one of Ernie’s colleagues so that he could stroke the head of one of the magnificent black horses. ‘The problem is, I have no idea where to find the grave. Do you know if there’s someone who can help me?’

  Ernie scratched his head thoughtfully. ‘I have a feeling the stonemason is laying the headstone today, so if you walk down that footpath you will see someone at work. That’ll be where you’ll find your baby’s resting place.’

  Ruby thanked the man and took George by the hand, urging him to go with her when he wanted nothing more than to stay and stroke the horses. ‘Look, George, there’s the river,’ she said, bending down beside him, pointing to where the Thames glistened in the sunshine.

  ‘Is that where our house is?’ he asked.

  ‘I would think it’s further over to the right, behind those big factory buildings. I didn’t realize we were so high up here. It’s a magnificent view.’ And a lovely place to lay loved ones to rest, she thought, as they resumed their slow walk along the narrow pathway that wound between the graves. Around the cemetery there was an expanse of grass that would no doubt one day be filled with line upon line of similar gravestones to the ones they walked past. Occasionally a larger monument was seen. There must be important people interred there, she thought, not wishing to voice her words aloud in case it worried George. Perhaps it had not been very wise to bring him with her, but then, he had asked about the baby, and it was only right for him to understand the truth. She was not a believer in keeping things from a child. ‘That looks like the stonemason,’ she said, pointing to where a man in a brown apron was instructing two young helpers. A woman stood watching.

  Ruby ran a hand across her hot brow. The weather had warmed up a little after the wet days earlier in the month. She hadn’t expected to have to walk as far as they had, and her legs felt wobbly and just about able to hold her upright. She leant against a nearby gravestone and took a deep breath.

  ‘I say, are you unwell?’ A woman wearing a smart black velvet hat and matching coat, with a fox fur draped elegantly around her shoulders, stopped and took Ruby’s arm. ‘Are you here for a funeral?’ she asked, looking back to where the carriages stood in front of the chapel.

  ‘I just need to catch my breath for a few minutes,’ Ruby said as George gave her a worried look.

  ‘We’ve come to see my baby sister Sarah’s grave,’ he said solemnly.

  The woman looked genuinely sorrowful. ‘Oh, my poor dears. Come, let me help you. Where is the grave?’

  Ruby took a deep gulp of air. ‘George, why not run on ahead?’ she said, not wishing him to hear too much of what she was about to say. As he did as he was told, she turned to the woman. ‘Thank you for your concern. I’m not sure I should be saying this, but my daughter doesn’t have her own grave. I came here to look for her.’

  ‘I don’t understand . . .’

  ‘When Sarah was born, she never took a breath. It meant she was taken away from me while I was ill with a fever. Through the kindness of friends . . . I discovered she was buried with another recently deceased person . . .’ Her voice faltered.

  ‘My dear, there is no need to say any more. I do understand the situation. I have heard of this happening. You say you have been advised of where she has been interred?’

  ‘Yes, I was told the stonemason is at the grave and about to lay the headstone for a Miss Allinson. I was heading in that direction when I felt a little weak.’

  ‘The deceased Miss Allinson was my younger sister; I am Mrs Grant . . .’

  If Ruby had the strength in her legs to turn and run at that point she would have done so. Would she get anyone into trouble by saying what she knew?

  ‘I can see you wish to tell me something. Please don’t be afraid,’ Mrs Grant said. ‘I believe I have already guessed it.’

  Ruby took a deep breath and explained about Sarah’s death and what she had discovered. She didn’t name Ernie, who had been such a comfort to her. ‘I just wanted to know where she was resting,’ she said. ‘I had no wish to bother Miss Allinson’s family.’

  Mrs Grant took Ruby’s elbow and led her to where George was watching the stonemason at work. ‘My sister was a keen gardener. She took much comfort from sitting in her rose garden during her final illness. It was my wish that she had roses engraved on her marker. Although the stone is now in place, I required several more engraved upon it. That is why Mr Daniels is working in situ,’ she explained.

  ‘It is a fine memorial,’ Ruby said, noting that Miss Allinson had only been in her forties when she passed.

  ‘She was never able to enjoy good health,’ her sister said, and bowed her head in silent prayer. Ruby followed, lowering her head and thinking of her daughter, who would never enjoy the sun on her face or the perfume of roses. ‘If you will excuse me for a moment,’ Mrs Grant said, as she left Ruby to go to speak with the stonemason.

  Although Ruby could not hear what was being said, she knew that Mrs Grant was giving instructions with a firm hand. The man scratched his head, before nodding and kneeling down close to the stone to continue his work. Mrs Grant returned to her side.

  ‘Have you travelled far?’

  ‘We recently moved to the town. Sarah was born a month early on the day we moved in. I was told Sarah was a pretty baby,’ she smiled, thinking fondly of what might have been.

  ‘You never saw her?’ Mrs Grant took a dainty white linen handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

  ‘No, I had a fever and was poorly for several weeks. By the time I was in a fit state to know what had happened, and to think clearly again, it was as if the world had moved on and I was expected to forget about her – I couldn’t,’ she added, with a tremor in her voice.

  ‘I admire you for looking for your daughter, and for having such a handsome son,’ Mrs Grant said, as they looked to where George had wandered away from watching the stonemason. He was now reading the words from a nearby marble memorial, his lips moving to form words as a quizzical look crossed his face. Running back to Ruby’s side, he looked shyly at Mrs Grant before
speaking to his mother.

  ‘What does “in God’s care” mean?’ he asked. ‘I have read it in three different places.’

  Ruby started to speak but faltered. How did you explain death to a child? she wondered.

  ‘It means that God is looking after us, and we can rest happy in the knowledge he is looking over us,’ Mrs Grant smiled. ‘You can read words very well. Would you like to read something to me?’

  George nodded his head as she held out her hand and took him closer to the headstone. The stonemason stood back from his work as he wiped his hands on a cloth, allowing George to kneel down close to the bottom corner of the headstone. ‘There’s a little flower,’ he said.

  ‘It is a rosebud,’ Mrs Grant said. ‘When a rosebud grows it opens into a rose,’ she explained, running her fingers over the intricate roses freshly chiselled into the top of the stone. ‘Sometimes a bud never develops into a full-grown rose, but it is just as special. Can you read the words?’

  George ran his little fingers over the five letters, copying how Mrs Grant had touched the stone. ‘Sarah, it says Sarah,’ he grinned as he recognized the word. ‘That is my sister’s name.’

  ‘Clever boy,’ she smiled, patting him on the head.

  Ruby couldn’t speak. The kindness of this woman she’d just met astounded her. ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ she said, fighting hard not to cry as she didn’t wish to alarm George. ‘You must let me contribute to the cost of this work,’ she added, wondering if her meagre savings would cover the work of the skilled tradesman.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Mrs Grant said, waving away Ruby’s offer. ‘I know my sister would have been delighted to know she shared her eternal resting place with a baby. When she had better health, she would visit the village school and talk to the children about flowers and their names. She never married, but would have made a wonderful mother. What might have been?’ she sighed, and they all stood looking at the grave in silence for a few moments. ‘Now, I wish you to take my card, as I would like to hear about how this young man progresses with his lessons. I take it you attend classes?’