Let it Shine

by Let it Shine (retail) (epub)

  Next she took out the long, black box that contained the rent-money. A peep inside told her it was bulging with notes and coins alike. ‘He can’t have paid the money into the bank for ages,’ she realised, ‘but then the canny bugger won’t use banks when he can hoard it away. The more of his mam’s money he can hide from the accountant, the better.’ That’s what he had once told her. And that was obviously what he was doing here.

  With shaking fingers, she dipped into the tin. Taking out two notes and a handful of coins, she slipped it all into her skirt pocket along with the rest. ‘That should keep me going until after the bairn’s born and I’m able to fend for myself.’ She reckoned that Peter Williams owed her that much.

  Having taken her dues, she then locked the safe and put the cabinet back where it was, being extra careful to set the feet in the same indentations on the carpet. She replaced the key and checked that all was well, and, as softly as she had entered, she left the same way. He’ll never even know I was there, she thought triumphantly as she ran upstairs to her bedroom.

  Quickly now, she took the money from her skirt pocket, with the exception of two silver coins, and tucked it all into the lining of her portmanteau. With the case in one hand she grabbed her coat from the arm of the chair and, taking one last look around, satisfied herself that she had left nothing behind. ‘You can do what yer like now, Peter Williams. Yer can kill and steal and cheat and grow fat from your filthy doings, but you’ll not put me in an early grave – not if I can help it, you won’t!’ With that she hurried downstairs.

  Daisy was about to make her way up, tray in hand. ‘Take it into the drawing room,’ Ruth told her with a wink. ‘It’ll be a fitting end to my time in this house.’

  Ever defiant, Ruth swept into the drawing room, with Daisy on her tail. She sat at the sofa, and allowed the girl to wait on her for the last time. ‘You’re a good lass, Daisy and, God forgive me, I’ve not treated you as well as I should.’ Taking one of the silver coins out of her pocket, she pressed it into the young maid’s hand. ‘Here, I hope this tells you how truly sorry I am.’

  ‘Oh, miss!’ On seeing how much it was, Daisy began to cry. Even so, she wasted no time in dropping it into her pocket with a watery smile. ‘Thank you, miss.’

  ‘Don’t forget now.’ Ruth outlined what she must do. ‘You’re to say that as far as you know, I went out to do some shopping, and I won’t be gone long.’ While she spoke, she placed her leaving note on the mantelpiece.

  ‘When he sees that, miss, he’ll know I was lying.’

  ‘No, he won’t. He knows you do the drawing room early, before you go on to your other duties. So, you won’t have seen the note. What’s more, he’ll not be able to prove otherwise, will he?’

  ‘I hope not, miss.’ Even with the silver coin warm and safe in her pocket, Daisy trembled at the very idea,

  A few minutes later, Ruth was on her way, with the parting words: ‘If he starts on you, Daisy, go and find another position with a decent family. You’re a good worker, and honest with it.’ Digging into her bag, she took out an envelope and handed it to her. ‘Put this somewhere safe. It’s a note from me as your housekeeper, saying how you have always been exemplary in character, and meticulous in your work.’

  She laughed. ‘It was the devil of a job, spelling them big words, and I’m not even sure I’ve got them right. But the letter says only good things, and I thought it just might help you in the future.’

  ‘Thank you, miss. I’ll put it away safe, like you said.’

  ‘’Bye then, Daisy. Take care of yourself, gal.’

  ‘’Bye, miss.’ Daisy had lately changed her opinion about Ruth. ‘I hope you get on all right, wherever you’re going?’ The latter was a half-hearted question.

  Ruth smiled in return. ‘It’s best you don’t know any more than what I’ve already told you,’ she answered. ‘For your own sake as well as mine.’

  Daisy understood. ‘All the same, mind how you go, miss.’ And before Ruth had gone two steps down the street, she ran back inside and shut the door, leaning on it and wishing she, too, could make a bolt for it. At first she wept, feeling sorry for herself at being left behind at the mercy of that monster. But then a strange sort of calm came over her. She stood up tall and determined, a touch of defiance in her voice. ‘If he so much as lays one hand on me, I’ll be off to the police and tell them everything I know.’

  Realising with a jolt just how much she did know, she then went at a run into the scullery, where she launched herself into a long and arduous series of tasks that would keep her mind off things. ‘I’ll try not to think about him,’ she told herself. ‘Not till he comes bursting through that door, demanding to know the whereabouts of his woman.’

  Growing more fearful with every passing minute, she took to reciting Ruth’s instructions until they were branded on her brain. ‘“She’s gone out to do some shopping, sir, but she’ll not be gone long. A letter, sir? What letter is that then? No, sir, I didn’t know nothing about it… I did the drawing room early as allus. There weren’t no letter in there, not that I seen. No sir, I ain’t been back in the room since then.”’

  Over and over she repeated it, sounding like one of those broken fun-machines at the seaside, when you put a penny in the parrot cage and it chatted on and on, until you gave the machine a kick and put an end to it.

  * * *

  It was half-past four by the time Ruth arrived at her mother’s house.

  ‘Yer ain’t brought much, ’ave yer?’ Freda still wasn’t sure whether she’d made the right decision in having her there.

  ‘I’ve brought all I need.’ Knowing her from old, Ruth had no intention of confiding too much in her mother.

  ‘You’d best come up, if you want to see where your bedroom is.’ Without waiting for Ruth to catch her breath or even take off her coat, Freda went on up the stairs, her daughter keeping two steps behind.

  At the second room on the left, Freda paused to fling open the door. ‘There you go. I’ve cleaned it out and put new sheets and blankets on the bed. Mind you, I’ll expect the amount back for what I’ve spent out, ’cause I ain’t got money to throw about, even if you have.’

  Ruth thought it wise to put her mother in the picture, right from the very start. ‘I haven’t got any money to throw about, any more than you have,’ she answered. ‘And if you think I’ll be opening my purse every time you cry broke, you’ve got another think coming, because I won’t!’

  ‘So you’ll see your mammy without a penny to her name, is that what yer saying, yer selfish little cow! After I’ve been good enough to take you in an’ all. Shame on yer.’

  Exasperated, Ruth laughed in her face. ‘Don’t come that one with me, Mam. It’s me, Ruth, you’re talking to – not this poor bloke you’ve got working his fingers to the bone to keep the roof over your ungrateful head.’

  ‘Don’t you talk about my Ernie like that. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that, ’cause you’ve not had one bloke that I recall who stayed with you for more than two minutes, and seeing as it’s his house, I’m surprised he’s not chucked you out on your ear long since.’

  ‘Well, he ain’t. And he ain’t about to throw you out neither. That’s the kind o’ man he is.’

  Ruth couldn’t wait to meet this put-upon bloke. ‘Look – I’m very grateful for his hospitality, which is probably more than you’ve ever been. But you can forget about wanting to steal away what bit of money I’ve managed to scrape together. Knowing you, I daresay he pays over a good part of his wage to you. So add to that the rent I’ll be giving you, and you’ll not be doing so bad.’

  Freda, however, still hadn’t given up hope. ‘I’ve been thinking about that, and I reckon I undercharged you.’

  ‘Oh you do, do you?’ Ruth had half-suspected her mam wasn’t yet done with her bargaining.

  ‘Well, yeah. By my reckoning, I should really be getting… let me see now.’ She paused to ponder, n
ot daring to go over the top and frighten away a good source of income. ‘Let’s say we settle on another half-crown a week on top of what we agreed?’

  Ruth was more amused than angry. ‘Let’s say we don’t. Let’s say I won’t give you one farthing more. And if that isn’t enough, then happen I should find lodgings where they’ll be glad of renting out a spare room for ready cash, and no questions asked.’

  Casting a critical gaze round the room she noticed how the old paint was peeling off the walls and the rug was threadbare beneath her feet. The tired curtains at the window were sagging to one side and there were two tiles missing off the fireplace surround. ‘One look at this awful little room, and it should be me offering you a reduction.’

  ‘Hmh!’ Freda folded her arms, which was a sign that she was ready for a fight if there was one going. ‘By! Yer an ’ard bugger, you are,’ she grumbled. ‘’Ard as granite.’

  Ruth kept hold of her portmanteau, just to show she was equally determined, though in fact she had no intention of leaving this house. It was her only sanctuary for the time being. ‘Well, what’s it to be?’

  Giving her daughter a pathetic look, Freda told her, ‘You’ll rue the day yer talked to yer poor old mam like that. When I’m laid under the turf and you’ve nobody else to turn to, you’ll be sorry, you’ll see.’

  ‘Aw, come on, Mam. You’ll see us all off, and well you know it. You’re too bloody wicked to die!’ All the same, thinking about the prospect of losing her mam when she had only just found her again, was a sad thing. Her mam had been a thorn in her side for so long, it would be a strange old world without her.

  ‘Look, Mam.’ Placing her portmanteau on the bed, Ruth told her, ‘Right now we need each other. Let’s call a truce and see how we get on. What d’yer say?’

  Surprised by the tenderness in her daughter’s voice, Freda took a moment to turn it all over in her mind. ‘I expect I’ve been a bit hard on you all at once,’ she agreed. ‘So we’ll make it an extra tanner a week. All right?’

  Ruth fell about laughing. ‘You’ll never change,’ she said. And in a way, she was glad.

  * * *

  Two hours later, with the help of a scrubbing brush, hot water and a bar of Sunlight soap, a needle and thread, and a duster and polish, the room was bright as a new pin. The windows were shining after a going-over with the shammy leather, the rug was repaired, and the curtains had been pressed and now hung as they were meant to.

  ‘My! You’ve worked wonders.’ Freda entered with two mugs of tea, one of which she gave to Ruth. ‘D’yer know, our kid, I reckon I were too generous asking for a tanner. I shoulda made it a shilling!’

  The sudden sight of Ernie at the door made them almost leap out of their skin. ‘I’ve been calling,’ he told them, ‘but the pair of youse were laughing so much you didn’t hear me.’ His gaze rested on Ruth. ‘You must be Freda’s daughter.’ Making his way across the room, he held out his hand in greeting. ‘Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.’

  Ruth liked him straight off. What she saw was a big bumbling fella, with kind, sad eyes and a soft, friendly voice. Still in his grubby work-clothes he looked worn out. ‘The name’s Ruth,’ she said, and returned his smile without hesitation.

  ‘Ah, that’s it.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘Ruth, of course.’ Freda had a word or two to say to this. ‘I told yer what her name was, you big dope. My God! Ruth’s a common enough name: a child o’two could remember it.’

  ‘Hey!’ Ruth feigned indignation. ‘Not so much of the “common” if you don’t mind.’

  While Ernie washed and changed, Freda ran off down the fish and chip shop, to buy three fish meals and dabs on each, with the money Ruth gave her. ‘It’s all we’ve got time for tonight,’ she explained to Ernie when they all sat down to eat. ‘I’ve been tidying up down here, while Ruth’s made that little spare bedroom look really nice.’

  Ernie turned to Ruth. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had troubles. Freda didn’t tell me exactly what they were, and neither should you, unless you’ve a mind.’

  Ruth shook her head. ‘I’m just grateful you’ve allowed me to stay here. It’s only until I get myself sorted out, of course.’

  His kind gaze roved the room. ‘This is a nice little house. Warm and cosy of a wintertime, and cool enough in the summer. I hope you’ll be happy here,’ he said. Though it hadn’t been happy for him. How could it be, when he was estranged from his son?

  They ate their fish and chips and drank two whole pots of Freda’s best tea. ‘By! I can’t recall when I’ve enjoyed a meal so much,’ Ernie remarked. ‘D’you know what, love, it must have been twelve month and more, since we had fish and chips.’

  Freda agreed. ‘Aye, well, now that our Ruth’s here, happen she’ll treat us more often, eh?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Ernie had made up his mind. ‘From now on, we’ll have fish and chips every Friday, and the treat is on me.’

  When the table was cleared, they sat and talked, and supped of the dandelion-wine Freda had been keeping for just such an occasion. They chatted about their lives, and how it was a pity they had been so long apart.

  Inevitably the talk came round to Ernie’s son. ‘He’s a good lad, is my Mick.’ Ernie had tears in his eyes. ‘Only we had a terrible falling-out after his mam passed on. Sometimes these things happen and it’s a bit of a nightmare. Though I’ve every hope we’ll find our way back… just like you and your mam did.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’ Ruth knew only too well how easy it was for families to drift apart, before the young one matures, and the older one mellows, and somehow it all seems to come right in the end.

  ‘He’s a right old softie,’ her mother said, ‘but I do love him.’ She glanced at Ernie and he was thrilled to see a spark of the old Freda he had wooed and won.

  As the evening wore on, they laughed at each other’s little stories and innuendos, and when Freda read out a list of dos and don’ts with regard to Ruth’s staying with them, Ernie was amazed and delighted to see how she had come alive with the arrival of her daughter.

  ‘I want the rent on time,’ Freda began, ‘and there’ll be no fetching young men home at any time of the day and night – though of course me and Ernie won’t object to the odd occasion. I mean, we were young ourselves once. I want my kitchen to be left as you find it – though if I’ve not had time to clean it behind me, I’ll not be angry if you should feel the urge to take a cloth to it. But only as I say, if I’ve not had time to do it myself.’

  ‘Which is usually most of the time,’ Ernie chuckled.

  To which Freda gave him one of her warning glances. ‘Now then, Ernie love, don’t let yer imagination run away with yer.’

  To the growing amusement of the other two, she continued with her list.

  ‘Being as Ernie hasn’t yet got around to installing a bathroom in this house, you’ll need to use the privy at the bottom of the yard. Now, I don’t mind yer taking a jeremiah to bed, ’cause the Lord knows how cold it can be to yer bare arse out there in the middle of the night, but yer must make sure it gets emptied first thing of a morning. There’s nothing worse than the pong o’ dried piddle when you walk into a room.’ At this, Ruth and Ernie exchanged glances, and it was all they could do to keep a straight face.

  ‘Right then!’ Freda pressed on bossily. ‘With regard to the privy, don’t forget to leave the key so’s me and Ernie can find it. Under the bucket in the back yard is a good place.’

  Ruth could hardly contain herself by this time. ‘You mean to say you actually lock the privy door?’

  ‘Well, o’ course we do! Some time back, the man next door had his privy stolen! The china bowl, wooden seat… everything! They even took the newspaper squares hanging on the wall. Two men were seen carrying it all away one dark night, but they were never caught. We’d be in a right mess if our privy went missing. Isn’t that right, Ernie? Ernie?’

  When she looked up, it was to see the big man red in the face from suppressing the laughter that threatened to
engulf him. Ruth was in the same state. Suddenly, Freda began to see the funny side of what she’d been saying, and it wasn’t long before the whole room echoed with the sound of their laughter.

  And because of it, Ernie was happier than he had been in many a long time; though behind the laughter, his pain over the rift with Mick was like a clenched fist inside him.

  * * *

  With Ruth gone, and Peter still not having shown his face, Daisy was like a cat on hot bricks. The afternoon had ticked away and now it was late, and she knew the tale she had to tell would not be good enough.

  For the umpteenth time, she got out of her chair and began pacing the floor, wringing her hands together and moaning pitifully, ‘What am I to tell him now? Oh, miss! What am I to tell him?’

  From the hallway, she heard the grandfather clock striking all the way up to ten, like the countdown of doom. ‘Stay calm,’ she told herself firmly. ‘Say she came back and went out again, and she’ll be back at any minute.’ Her face flickered into a nervous smile. ‘That’s it!’ The smile settled. ‘She went out shopping earlier, then she forgot summat and went out again.’ She scratched her head. ‘But where could she be going at this time of night?’

  Again she took to pacing the floor, until an idea came to mind. ‘The pub!’ Clapping her hands together at her ingenuity, she laughed out loud. ‘That’s it! She’s gone to the pub for some drink for the table, ’cause there ain’t none left in the cellar. That’s what I’ll tell him. That’s what I were told, and if it’s a lie, then it ain’t my fault, ’cause I only know what she told me, an’ it ain’t my place to ask questions.’

  As she set about her late duties, she etched the instructions into her brain. ‘Remember what you’re to say,’ she muttered as she set the table for his supper. ‘You know nothing else but what you were told. Nothing whatsoever! You stick to that story, Daisy my gal, an’ don’t let him frighten yer.’ Cheered by her own determination, she finished setting the table, and even managed a little song as she returned to the kitchen to fetch the condiments.