Ruby Chadwick

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Ruby Chadwick Page 30

by Anna King


  It was a pity that both Bertie and Amy would be at work at this time of day, for she would have liked to visit them. She only hoped that her sister-in-law wouldn’t object to the idea of their being neighbours. Realising that she was wool-gathering simply to postpone the moment of going out once more into the street, she took a deep breath, then, pulling on her gloves, she straightened her wide-brimmed hat and sallied forth on her journey home.

  * * *

  ‘Goodbye, Ruby, I’ll miss you and the children,’ Mrs Rodgers sobbed, wiping her overflowing eyes with a large white handkerchief.

  They were in the kitchen waiting for the cab Sir Charles had hired to take them to their new home. He had been so kind to Ruby these past few weeks, even going so far as to offer her the furniture from the lodge. She only wished he’d offered sooner, for it would have saved her a great deal of money. The purchase of the house, plus contents, had all come out of her own money; Michael was keeping his safely tucked away, an action that was causing Ruby deep resentment. Even so, she would have liked him to be with her today, but he had hurried out early that morning, saying something about a friend knowing of a shop going cheap down Aldgate way. He hadn’t even looked back; the knowledge that he would never again set foot in the place that had been his home for nine years had not made him sentimental. Not so herself, who had said goodbye to each and every room with a lump in her throat. Even the knowledge that her new home, completely furnished, was waiting had brought no comfort.

  ‘Will you write and let me know how you’re getting on, Ruby? I can’t bear the thought of never seeing or hearing from you again,’ Mrs Rodgers was saying.

  ‘Of course I’ll keep in touch. I have your sister’s address, and I can’t tell you how happy I am at knowing your future is so settled.’

  Mrs Rodgers’s face creased into a quivering smile. ‘Well now, Ruby, my sister’s been on at me for years to go and live with her, I’ve always liked Kent, but I had her ladyship to see to. I would never have left while she was alive, and also, I couldn’t have gone empty-handed; I wouldn’t have felt right.’

  The sound of the knocker interrupted them, and looking at each other, they rose to their feet. ‘I’d better get the children,’ Ruby said breathlessly. Walking unsteadily to the window, she tapped on it sharply to summon them in from their last romp in the garden.

  ‘Oh, Mum, is it time to go already?’ Danny said sadly.

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is, son. Now say goodbye to Mrs Rodgers. You too, Florrie. The cab driver is waiting.’

  Both the children were gathered to the kindly woman’s ample bosom for so long that she was afraid her old friend would smother them both. Watching the poignant scene reminded Ruby once again of the morning she had spent saying goodbye to the people she had spent the last nine years with. It had been an emotional experience. Mr Masters had retained his usual stiff composure until Danny had held out his hand to say goodbye. Then Florrie had put her arms out for a hug, and the old man’s stern face had crumbled, and gruffly bidding them all good luck he had turned away, but not before Ruby had seen the tears in his pale eyes. Rosie too had been tearful, and Ruby had had trouble prising the children away from her. Only Agnes had remained unmoved by the highly charged atmosphere, too full of her own plans to be concerned about anyone else. They had all gone now. Only herself and Mrs Rodgers were left.

  ‘Mrs Rodgers, we’ll have to go. The cabbie is waiting, come along now,’ she said gently, trying to keep her voice steady. The memories of the house were crowding in on her, causing her to feel unbearably sad. She could feel the presence of Lady Caldworthy everywhere and could almost hear the quavering voice saying, ‘Be happy, Ruby. Be happy.’ Taking Florrie’s hand, she stumbled to the front door, and only Mrs Rodgers’s stout arm prevented her from falling.

  Seeing the small group emerge from the house, the cab-driver jumped down and helped Ruby and the children into the coach.

  Her eyes brimming with tears, Ruby leaned out of the window and clasped Mrs Rodgers’s hand, glad now that Michael wasn’t here to witness her grief. As the cabbie clicked his whip, she cried in a choked voice, ‘Goodbye, dear friend! I’ll never forget you.’

  ‘Nor I you, Ruby. May God watch over you and the little ones. Goodbye, my dear. Goodbye!’

  Ruby was forced to relinquish her hand as the coach began to move off. Taking a last anguished look at the older woman’s face awash with tears, she pulled away from the window and sank back on the leather seat. Then, covering her face with her hands, she wept unashamedly while the children tried to console her.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  They had been in their new home for nearly three months, but it wasn’t until Ruby had seen Florrie off to school with Danny a week earlier that she had finally called at the office of one of the daily papers and asked for her advertisement to be inserted in the next edition. Now she sat waiting for her first customer to knock at the front door.

  For the tenth time that morning she looked at the clock, wondering if she dare leave her post to go and see Bertie, then shook her head sadly. Since Amy had left him, he had changed into a person she no longer knew. When she first heard the news, she’d hardly been off his doorstep, but his silences and sudden bursts of self-pity had left her at a loss as to how she could help him. She knew it would take a higher authority than herself to break through the hard, morose shell her brother had built round himself, and she was determined to speak to her father on Sunday, to try to make him see just how much Bertie needed him, now more than ever.

  The clock chimed the half-hour: twelve-thirty, and still no sign of a potential client. Nipping her bottom lip, she stood up and went into the bedroom to have another look at herself in her new outfit. Skirting around the brass double bed and mahogany wardrobe, she opened the top drawer of the tallboy and took out a clean handkerchief before turning back to face the full-sized mirror that stood in the far corner. Her fingers picking nervously at the tiny pearl buttons, she studied her reflection, uncomfortably aware that the red dress with its high-necked collar and leg-o’mutton sleeves was about five years out of date. According to Lily, she should throw out her entire wardrobe and make herself some new clothes more in keeping with the latest fashion. Turning away, she tutted impatiently. It was all very well for Lily to talk; she didn’t have a handicap to conceal. Although the new mode of simpler, straighter skirts and tailor-made costumes were giving women more freedom of movement, she still preferred the wide heavy layers of petticoats and skirts that successfully hid the void on the right side of her body. Lily was right, as usual. She couldn’t go on wearing the same clothes forever, and besides, it wasn’t a very good advertisement for her new business to be seen in old-fashioned garments.

  She went next door into her workshop, her eyes resting briefly on the new Singer sewing machine on top of a sturdy table. Going to a chest of drawers, she opened one and pulled out a length of blue cotton, nodding to herself. She’d start this evening. What she’d do would be to make a blouse out of the bale of white lace in the top drawer and use this blue cotton for a skirt. But she wouldn’t make it too narrow – oh no, she wasn’t yet ready to change her mode of dress overnight; she’d take it one stage at a time. Humming gently, she put the fabric back in its place and went back into the sitting room to wait. She was just about to sit down when the knocker sounded at the front door, making her start nervously. Wetting her lips, she smoothed down the front of her dress and, head held high, opened the door, ‘Oh, it’s you!’ she exclaimed, her voice heavy with disappointment.

  ‘Ah, now that’s a nice way to welcome your husband!’ Michael stood on the doorstep, twisting his bowler hat in his hands. ‘I thought I’d better knock in case you had a room full of half-dressed women in here.’

  Clicking her tongue in annoyance, she threw the door open wide. ‘Don’t be so stupid! And what are you doing home from work at this time of day anyway?’

  Michael raised his eyebrows in mock surprise as he shut the door behind him.
He was dressed smartly in a pair of narrow black trousers and grey morning jacket, underneath which was a crisp white shirt topped by a black cravat. He had used his money to buy a haberdasher’s in the middle of a row of shops in Aldgate. A former assistant there, by the name of Mr Midson, had come with the shop and as he knew all there was to know about running the place, Michael had been only too pleased to keep the grateful old man on. Michael spent most of his time talking to the women customers, charming them into buying articles they didn’t really need and standing in the doorway exchanging snippets of conversation with the other owners, who, like him, were content to let their assistants carry on with the hard work. Then of course there was always the pub to go to if he became bored, and Michael became bored very easily.

  Whistling under his breath, he eyed her warily before saying, ‘I thought I’d come home and see how you were getting on. But if you want me to go, just say the word.’

  ‘Oh… take no notice of me. I’ve a lot on my mind at the moment. Are you home for the day, or is this your dinner hour?’

  ‘Well, I could manage a bite if you’re going to cook…’ He saw the look on her face, and hastily added, ‘But don’t trouble yourself on my account. I can get something at the pub.’

  ‘I was just about to make a cup of tea, if you want one. Then, if no one turns up within the next hour, I thought I’d pop down to see if Bertie’s in. I’m worried about him; he seems to be getting worse.’

  Michael sat down, his eyebrows drawing together in annoyance. ‘And what will you say if he is in, eh? The last time you went down there, you came back in tears. Now, I’m telling you for your own good, Ruby, leave well enough alone. I know he’s your brother, but to my mind he doesn’t want to be helped. Why, he even turned on George last week, didn’t he? Told him to get out and not interfere… No, there’s nothing else you can do. Leave him. He’ll come round in his own good time. Now… promise me you’ll not go down there?’ He bounced his head at her, his face solemn. ‘You know I hate to see you upset. I’m only thinking of you, darlin’.’

  Ruby looked away, unable to stand his hypocrisy. He had no concern for Bertie, and would be more than pleased to keep the relationship between them strained, but she’d be damned if she would! Placing her hands on her hips, she faced him angrily. ‘You’re not thinking of me. You’re thinking of yourself, as usual! I should have known better than to confide in you. But you’ve made me realise that I can’t stand by any longer and see him suffer. I was going to wait until Sunday, but now I’ve decided to go and see my dad tonight. I know George and Mum have tried to get him to go round to see Bertie, and now it’s my turn. I’ll make him see sense if I have to drag him down here myself!’ Her stomach lurched at the prospect of facing her dad, for since they had resumed their old relationship she had gone out of her way to keep the peace between them, even to the point of backing down on occasions, but no longer.

  ‘What do you mean – you’re going round tonight? You were there only a few days ago, and I can’t look after the children, I have someone to meet later on. No, Ruby, I don’t mind you going there once a week, but I’m not having you traipsing off there whenever the fancy takes you! I’m telling you…’ He was on his feet now, his eyes glittering with anger.

  ‘Don’t you dare tell me when I can visit my parents! I’ll go whenever I choose. As for the children, I’ll ask Mrs Williams from next door to look after them.’

  ‘Aye, at a shilling a time. And how do you propose to get there? You can’t travel by tram at night, and we can’t afford a cab. It would be different if you were earning, but…’ he indicated the room, ‘it doesn’t look like your bright idea is going to work, does it? I told you it was a stupid idea, but no, you wouldn’t listen, you always think you know best… Now for the last time…’ He broke off as the knocker sounded loudly at the front door.

  Ruby was across the room in moments, and when she saw the young woman standing nervously on the doorstep she smiled broadly.

  ‘Excuse me, are you Mrs Ruby O’Brien? I – I’ve come about the advertisement.’

  ‘Yes, I’m Mrs O’Brien. Please come in.’ She stood aside to let the woman enter, then quickly moved out of the way as Michael stormed past her.

  Gripping the door, he hissed at her, ‘Remember what I said, and don’t wait up for me. I don’t know what time I’ll be home.’

  Ruby nodded curtly before turning to her first customer. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Miss… ?’

  ‘Oh, me name’s Ada, and I would like a cuppa! I’ve come in me dinner-time so I can’t stop long.’

  As Ruby walked towards the kitchen, she could sense the woman’s eyes on her, and thought, ‘I’m going to have to get used to this, and the best form of defence is attack!’ When she emerged a few minutes later with a tray, she set it down on the table and said cheerfully, ‘I see you’ve noticed my leg. I had an accident when I was a child, but I don’t suppose you’re interested in my past history. Now, Ada, how can I help you?’

  * * *

  ‘Ruby, I am pleased to see you!’ an agitated George said with relief as he opened the door to his sister. Almost tearing the coat from her back, he hopped from one leg to the other, his eyes darting furtively towards the closed parlour door before adding urgently, ‘I was just on my way round to Bertie’s, I’m really worried about him. I stopped off on my way home yesterday, even though he went for me the last time I went round. Anyway, the door was wide open, and at first I thought the place had been burgled. Then I saw him. Oh, Ruby, I hardly recognised him. He was slumped across the settee reeking of drink. I couldn’t rouse him, hard as I tried, and the house, my God, it was filthy. When I think of how proud he was of his home, and how fastidious he’s always been about his appearance, I thought for a moment I’d stumbled into the wrong house. I was going to come down to you, but… well, I know how Michael feels about us all… and…’ Gulping twice, he ran a finger round his collar and added, ‘I tried to talk to Father. I really did, Ruby, but the moment I mentioned Bertie’s name, his eyes clouded over and— and I was too afraid to push the subject. I’m not strong enough to tackle him on my own; he still… frightens me at times. I feel so ashamed for being the way I am, but I can’t tell Mother. If she knew the awful state he was in she’d go round, and God knows what the effect would be on her if she were to see him as he was yesterday. But she was saying at dinner that she planned to visit him this weekend. Will you talk to Father, Ruby? You’re… you’re stronger than I am, and he’ll be more likely to listen to you. He respects you. Please, Ruby? I’m so afraid for Bertie. If he goes on like this, he’ll end up killing himself.’

  Ruby looked at his round chubby face and thought sadly that despite his 25 years he was still a young boy and would likely remain so to the end of his days.

  Unnoticed by them, Lily had entered the hall, her normally happy face grave. ‘George told me about Bertie, Ruby. Will you…?’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Ruby answered sharply, ‘That’s the reason I came round. I’m as concerned about Bertie as you are. He is my brother, after all.’ Handing Lily her hat and coat, she walked stiffly to the parlour.

  ‘Why, Ruby, this is a lovely surprise,’ Daisy cried happily, then, her face dropping, she said, ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there? Has something happened to the children?’

  ‘No, there’s nothing wrong. I just felt like a visit without them for a change. I never get the chance to talk in peace when they’re around.’ Scanning the cosy room, she asked, ‘Where’s Dad? Is he still at work?’

  ‘No, of course not! He’s in the library; there’s some paperwork he has to catch up with. Why do you ask?’

  ‘No reason; I just wondered where he was,’ Ruby answered defensively.

  Daisy looked at her daughter for a moment, then, putting down her needlework, she pulled herself to the edge of her chair and said firmly, ‘What’s wrong, Ruby?’ She held up her hand to ward off any interruption. ‘Don’t tell me this visit is merely social; I kn
ow you too well, my girl! Is it something to do with Michael? Are you two in trouble of any kind?’

  Ruby rubbed her forehead wearily. She should have known better than to try and deceive her mother. Resting her hands in her lap, she said softly, ‘It’s Bertie, Mum. He’s not getting any better. What I mean is, he’s not making any effort to pull himself together, so I thought I’d try and talk to Dad, to see if I can persuade him to go to see him. I’ve tried to snap him out of his depression and so has George, but he won’t listen to us. And, Mum, he’s— he’s a lot worse since you last saw him. As for me, I’m afraid I’ve stopped going. I thought if he was left alone he might come round on his own, but George saw him yesterday. He was drunk, Mum, and not just tipsy, but dead to the world. I didn’t know how bad he was until just now. I only came round tonight because I was feeling guilty about not doing enough, but now I’m glad I did.’ She stopped as she saw the look of alarm cross her mother’s face. ‘Oh, Mum, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! But listen, I’ve just had an idea. Do you think Dr Benson would go and see him? Bertie always respected him, and he might be able to give him something. What do you think?’

  Daisy shook her head despairingly. ‘I’m afraid poor William is past caring for the sick. He’s been ill himself for a number of months and is planning to leave London and take up residence in the country. No, it’s up to your father now, and if he still refuses to make his peace with Bertie, then I’ll go myself. I’ll stay by his side until he’s well again.’

 

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