by Anna King
The contempt in his son’s voice brought Bernard out of his apathetic state. Pushing his chair back sharply, he shouted after the retreating back, ‘Go, then! Go back to the slums you were born in, both of you! It’s where the pair of you belong! Go, get out of my house.’
Without a word or a backward glance Bertie stormed out, leaving Bernard to sink slowly back into his chair. He listened to the activity in the hall, his mind screaming at him to go after his son, tell him he loved him, was proud of him. It wasn’t too late. If he could only get out of this chair and go to both of them, tell them he was sorry, beg them for forgiveness, he could save his family from being divided forever.
But his body refused to obey his mind. When the front door banged shut, his body slumped down in the chair, his head hanging on his chest as he sat silently in misery. He had lost them both, just as surely as if they had died, and whereas one day Ruby might forgive him, he knew that Bertie never would. Covering his face with his hands he leaned over his desk, and, for the second time in his adult life, Bernard Chadwick cried.
Chapter Twenty
They were married a week before Christmas. Michael had wanted to bring the wedding forward to the end of summer, but Ruby had insisted on waiting.
It was six months since her father had thrown her from the house, the hateful words ringing in her ears, and she was determined that no child born to them would ever suffer the stigma of being conceived outside marriage. During the six-month interim, her mother had become a regular visitor at the house and had formed a strong friendship with Lady Caldworthy. Although Michael had been annoyed by having to wait, Ruby knew that the two women had been vastly relieved to hear that she wasn’t planning a hasty marriage. She also knew they were both secretly hoping that Michael would tire of waiting and vanish from her life. Many anxious nights she too had suffered, wondering if she was being foolish to allow so much time to elapse, but the need to demonstrate to her father that his spiteful accusations had been totally unfounded overcame her desire to marry quickly.
She had caused further consternation by insisting on being married in a church in the East End, insisting that as she no longer belonged to the upper classes, it would be a sham to be married in a manner above her new station. The only concession she had made to the distressed Daisy was to accept the cream lace wedding dress she’d bought from Harrod’s. It was indeed a beautiful gown, the tightly ruched bodice threaded with tiny seed-pearls forming a V-shape at the front, contrasting strongly with the plainness of the skirt. At the hem was a three-inch frill that billowed out in a wide circle to the ground, so that there was no chance of the wooden tip of her left leg showing beneath it.
The ceremony was brief. The vicar was flustered and slightly overawed by the small group of smartly dressed people not usually seen in this part of London. He was more accustomed to marrying the working-class people of his parish. When he pronounced the couple man and wife, he was quick to note the tight smiles on the faces of the people present and wondered at the story behind the scene. As the breathy sound of the ancient organ filled the church, its pedals pumped furiously by an over-enthusiastic spinster, Michael offered Ruby his arm and together they walked down the threadbare carpeted aisle.
Behind them walked Lily, in a pink silk dress, the only bridesmaid. Then came Bertie, who had taken the place of his father and given his sister away, his hand patting Daisy’s arm as if consoling her. Last came George and Dr Benson, their faces solemn, as though attending a funeral rather than a wedding.
Once outside the gloomy church, they posed for the photographer that Daisy had engaged. Standing together for warmth, they waited patiently as the little man cheerfully captured them for posterity with his new Kodak.
The photos taken, the small group disbanded, each one feeling the strain of the day. Especially Daisy, who wrapped her new fox fur stole tighter around her neck as she eyed the growing band of beggars and small ragged children that had gathered around the church railings to catch a glimpse of the ‘posh wedding’, and maybe scrounge a few shillings into the bargain. Sensing his mother’s fear, Bertie marshalled them all through the iron gates to the waiting carriages, at the same time scattering the handful of silver he had put into his pocket for just such an occasion. As the men, women, and children scrambled for the unexpected windfall, Bertie helped Daisy up into the carriage, then stood aside as Dr Benson and George followed her. Leaving the door open, he walked the few yards to where Ruby stood hand in hand with her new husband, while Lily sobbed uncontrollably behind them.
‘Best get going, Ruby. Lady Caldworthy will be waiting for us back at the house,’ Bertie said, his eyes scanning her face as though memorising it, thinking that she had never looked lovelier. Reaching up, he gently plucked one of the many dried flowers that Lily had entwined in Ruby’s hair and inserted it in his buttonhole. Then, as he was about to hand her into the carriage, he felt a restraining hand on his arm.
‘I can see to me wife, Mr Chadwick, thanks all the same,’ said Michael.
Ruby stood between the two men she loved and felt her heart tug in her breast. She had hoped they would get on together, but from their first meeting they had taken an instant dislike to each other. Her eyes clouding over, she leant forward and kissed Bertie on his cheek, saying softly, ‘I’ll see you back at the house, Bertie. You will stay for the party, won’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I will, but I’m on duty at eight tonight, so I’ll have to leave about six.’ Then, turning to the still sobbing Lily, he smiled broadly. ‘Come on, Lily, anyone would think this was a funeral! Cheer up!’ He was rewarded by a tremulous smile, and patted her wet cheek gently before walking back to his carriage. Once inside, he looked at the grim-faced occupants. Directing his attention to his mother, he said flatly, ‘Well, it’s done. There’s no going back now.’ Then, leaning slightly out of the window he shouted, ‘Drive on, coachman.’
* * *
The wedding party was a strained affair. Ruby glanced anxiously from her family to Michael as she chattered nervously. From the moment they had arrived back at the house, she had known it was a mistake to accept Lady Caldworthy’s offer to hold the reception here. She wished now she had insisted on parting from her family at the church and gone straight to the newly refurbished lodge with Michael for their own private celebration. She watched with dismay as he downed another glass of whisky, his face tight with anger at the unveiled hostility that had been directed at him by her family, and prayed he wouldn’t do or say something that would result in the day ending in a fight.
At the far end of the table, Bertie looked once again at his pocket watch before switching his attention to his new brother-in-law, asking himself why he should feel such animosity towards the man. It wasn’t just brotherly concern, but a deep-rooted fear that Michael wasn’t right for Ruby. It had nothing to do with class barriers; he prided himself on judging a man on his character, not on how much money he had in his pockets. No, it was something else, something he couldn’t define, he just knew deep down that this man would bring Ruby suffering. He had tried to like him for Ruby’s sake, but although he had only met him a few times, the first impression of distrust remained, and try as he might, he couldn’t shake it off.
Aware that he was being watched, Michael raised his eyes to Bertie, his lips set in a tight line. ‘God damn the little snot!’ he thought viciously. ‘And the rest of them. Looking down their long noses at me as if I were the dirt beneath their feet,’ while at the same time he cried silently, ‘Why? Why won’t you give me a chance? I want you to like me, I want all of you to like me, to accept me into your family.’
He could never replace his own family that he had lost at such an early age, but he had hoped that one day he would become part of another when he finally married. He felt the maudlin tears come to his eyes and quickly looked away from Bertie. Well, there was no chance he would ever be a part of this particular family, but what odds? He would create his own, with plenty of sons and daughters to make hi
m proud. Turning to Ruby, he leaned over and kissed her deeply on the lips, and felt a further rejection when she hurriedly pulled away, clearly embarrassed at such behaviour in front of company. His response to this rebuff was to call Rosie to replenish his glass, his eyes sweeping round the table, openly daring anyone to admonish him. But when he faced Daisy’s dour, accusing stare, he was forced to drop his gaze.
Bertie was the first to leave, announcing that he had to be on duty in an hour. His announcement was greeted with undisguised relief by the rest of the guests, as one by one they rose and made their farewells. Trying desperately to keep the tears from spilling over, Ruby kept the smile she had worn all day as she hugged her mother and brothers goodbye. Lily and Dr Benson stood to one side waiting for their turn, and when they too had kissed her cheek in farewell, they walked silently from the house to the waiting carriage. No words had been spoken; there was nothing left to say.
At last the carriage pulled away and Ruby walked slowly back into the dining room, telling herself she mustn’t let Michael see how upset she was, for she knew only too well how he must be feeling. When she entered, there was no sign of him, only the servants and Lady Caldworthy remained. The false smile slid from her face as she cried anxiously, ‘Where’s Michael?’
‘Now, don’t go getting yourself upset, Ruby,’ Lady Caldworthy said. ‘He’s gone to the lodge. I would imagine the vast amounts of whisky he has consumed have finally taken their toll.’
Suddenly angry, Ruby turned on the old woman, ‘And can you blame him? Considering how he’s been treated today, can you really blame him for acting as he did? In his place, I would have behaved just the same way.’
As she made to leave the room, Lady Caldworthy called out, ‘Child, child, what did you expect? You knew how your family felt about this marriage. Did you really imagine they would suddenly change their minds at the last minute and welcome him with open arms? I blame myself for this fiasco, I should never have coerced you into holding a wedding party when you were so clearly against it, but the damage is done now. You’d better go to him, for his pride has taken a severe beating, and, to be truthful, I feel sorry for him, for no man should be humiliated on his wedding day. Go to him, Ruby. Only you can give him back his self-esteem.’
Ruby stood for a moment torn between the desire to go to Michael and her loyalty to her employer. She looked so old and ill, she couldn’t leave her like this, not after all the kindness she had shown these past six months.
When she had finally accepted that Ruby was determined to marry her Irishman, she had had the lodge fully redecorated and modernised. The place had been practically pulled down and rebuilt. It had cost her a small fortune, but she had told herself it was worth every penny if it kept Ruby from leaving her.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ she whispered humbly. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken to you in such a manner. Let me see you to your room, for you must be very tired.’
Waving her hand at her, Lady Caldworthy replied waspishly, ‘Rosie can help me to my room. You have a husband waiting for you. Go, child. Don’t leave him alone to brood.’
Swiftly Ruby bent to kiss the frail cheek before leaving the room, and as she crossed the darkened garden she thought sadly, ‘Even the servants didn’t wish me good luck.’
* * *
Ruby peered into the darkness of the lodge, calling out softly, ‘Michael, Michael, are you there?’
When no answer came, she closed the door, then, making her way to the table where she knew the oil lamp stood, she fumbled until the soft light illuminated the room. Picking up the lamp, she swung it round, then gasped in surprise and relief at the sight of Michael sitting dejectedly in the chair by the cold fireplace. ‘Oh Lord, you did give me a fright, Michael! Why didn’t you answer? I thought for a moment you had gone off without me.’
‘Maybe it would have been better if I had.’
His flat reply made her feel sympathy for him. Then, seeing how he lay slumped in the chair feeling sorry for himself, anger surged in her. He hadn’t even taken the trouble to get a fire going! Shivering, she placed the lamp back on the table, then stood before him, her hands resting on her hips.
‘Well, if this is how you’re going to react every time life deals you a blow, then perhaps you’re right. Look at yourself, sitting there wallowing in self-pity without a thought for how I might be feeling! I’ve alienated myself from my father, a father I still love deeply in spite of the way he has behaved. I’ve hurt my mother and brothers, and I’m asking myself if it was worth it. If their indifference offends your pride so deeply, then it would be best if you did go now, because even though I love you, I don’t intend to spend the rest of my days propping up your wounded pride. You surprise me, Michael, I was led to believe that the Irish possessed a fighting spirit, but it seems I was mistaken.’
His face dark with rage, Michael bounded from the chair, his hands grabbing her shoulders, shaking her wildly. ‘Don’t ever speak to me like that again! I’ll not stand for it, do you hear me? I’ll not stand for it.’
‘Let go of me! I won’t be bullied, and I won’t be prevented from speaking my mind.’ Her calm voice held no trace of fear, while she faced him steadily until he dropped his hands from her shoulders.
The anger seeped from his face as he gazed down tenderly at her. ‘Aye, you won’t be bullied, will you, me darlin’? That’s one of the reasons I love you, even though it makes me as mad as hell. And you’re wrong when you say I don’t care about what you’re feeling. I know what you’ve given up for me, and it frightens me to think that one day you’ll wake up and realise what you’ve done and go haring off back to your family. Oh, Ruby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was half out of me mind with anger at the way they looked down their noses at me, and how I stopped meself from punching your brother, I’ll never know.’
‘It’s just as well you did! Bertie can look after himself. You might have found yourself flat out on the floor.’
‘There you go again, defending your family against me. Is it always going to be like this, Ruby? Them against me?’
Ruby hung her head, her shoulders drooping. She’d always imagined her wedding day would be the happiest of her life, but instead it had turned into a nightmare. Into her mind sprang a vision of her room at home, of Lily waiting to talk to her, and her family all gathered in the parlour after dinner, and she had a sudden wild longing to flee from this freezing depressive room. Then she lifted her eyes and saw the misery and uncertainty in Michael’s face, and all the love she felt for him came flooding back. Stepping nearer to him, she whispered, ‘No, Michael, not them against you; let’s say them against us. I love you, Michael, and much as I love my family, I’d give them all up if it meant losing you.’
At the sound of her passionate words, Michael straightened his back, his confidence returning. Taking her in his arms, he exclaimed, ‘Holy Mary, you’re freezing! In fact the whole place is freezing. Come on, let’s go to bed. We can talk more in the morning.’ He felt her body stiffen, and the frown came back to his face. Lifting her chin up, he stared deeply into her eyes. ‘What is it, Ruby?’
‘Nothing, I…’ ,
‘Nothing? Don’t tell me it’s nothing! I felt you pull away when I mentioned going to bed. Is that the way of it? I’ll be gentle, darlin’, and I promise I’ll not do anything unless you say so. We have the rest of our lives together, so I can wait a while longer, if that’s what you want. But not too much longer,’ he laughed shakily.
Ruby shook her head. She was afraid, of course she was, as any young bride would be, but it was the thought of her leg that was troubling her more than any pain or discomfort she was due to experience. ‘It’s not that. It’s… I’m afraid, Michael. I’m so afraid that when you see me without my clothes you’ll feel repelled. My— My s— stump isn’t very pretty to look at.’
Michael reared back in surprise. Saints above, he hadn’t even thought of that aspect! Looking down on her bent head, he felt a wave of love and protectiveness run thr
ough his body. Holding her tighter he whispered hoarsely, ‘Ruby, darlin’, I wouldn’t care if you had no legs at all, and if your stump isn’t pretty to look at, your face more than makes up for it. And I want to spend the rest of me days looking at it. Now, Mrs O’Brien, shall we go to bed before we freeze to death?’ Ruby raised her head, her eyes filled with apprehension before she nodded slowly. ‘Yes, Michael, let’s go to bed.’
Then, with her heart beating wildly, she walked with her new husband into the bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-one
Mabel Caldworthy took to her bed three days after the state funeral of her beloved sovereign Queen Victoria in 1901, but she herself did not die until two years later. It had been almost as though she no longer wanted to live in a world without the small regal figure that had been a part of her life. Ruby had sat with her dear friend until the end, taking turns with Dr Benson to keep watch, and when the frail old lady took her last breath, they had both wept unashamedly.
The sun was shining on the day of the funeral. Ruby sat stiffly on the plush leather seat in Dr. Benson’s coach, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared out of the open window at the cortege in front. When the hearse driven by four horses, their black plumage swaying in the wind, slowly came to a halt, she waited until he had alighted, then holding out her hand she allowed him to help her down, her mother following close behind. They waited silently as the light oak coffin with three sets of brass handles was lifted from the hearse onto the shoulders of the pall-bearers.