Gracie

by Marie Maxwell

  ‘I was right on time. I waited for you for ages …’

  ‘Not to worry. I had so much to do I must have got behind. But you’re here now so in you come.’

  The woman who had opened the door was small and round with wavy faded red hair pulled back from her face and tucked up in an old voile headscarf that was tied on top of her head. She was wearing an enveloping flowery apron and neatly darned woollen slippers.

  Her appearance told Ruby that there was no way she had been getting ready to go out, and she felt hurt that the mother who had stated how desperate she was to have her daughter back home couldn’t even be bothered to walk down the road and meet her off the bus after such a long journey.

  Sarah Blakeley held the door right back, then turned and shouted. ‘Arthur? Your sister’s here. Come and take her cases to her room.’ She turned back to her daughter. ‘Ruby, you go back out and shut the gate before those little urchins across the street start swinging on it again. I’m just sorting your brothers’ tea and then we’ll have ours after with Nan.’

  Her eyes widened as she looked at her daughter properly for the first time. ‘You’ve grown, Rube – I nearly didn’t recognise you – and you look very glamorous, but a bit too old for your age. Did that Babs woman give those clothes to you?’

  ‘Yes, she made me lots of clothes and altered some of hers for me.’

  ‘Not really suitable for a fourteen-year-old …’

  ‘I’m fifteen, soon be sixteen,’ Ruby sighed.

  ‘Still not quite right, though. I’ll try them on later. I haven’t had anything new for years.’

  And that was the total of her welcome home from her mother after five years away.

  Ruby stood for a moment on the threshold and stared straight ahead at the faded wallpaper in the narrow hallway and the staircase that disappeared off into claustrophobic darkness. She didn’t even want to go in, let alone live there again. She wanted to run; but then she heard her grandmother.

  ‘Is that you home, Ruby?’ a voice called out. ‘Come and say hello to your old nan.’

  ‘Coming, Nan. Just going back to shut the gate.’

  As her mother turned and walked back to the kitchen, Ruby’s brother Arthur bounded down the hall past her and grinned. ‘Hello, sis, decided to come home at last? Ray said you’d landed on your feet in that big posh house. He said you’ve gone la-di-dah and we’ve got to knock it out of you now you’re back!’

  At seventeen and not much more than a year older than his sister, Arthur had always been closest to Ruby in all ways and she had never taken offence at him the same way she had with her other brothers. He was a lump of a boy who had always had a certain slow innocence and openness in his nature, unlike Ray and Bobbie, who could both be mean and devious when the mood took them. She was pleased to see that, on the surface at least, Arthur seemed the same good-natured lad she remembered and she hoped that Bobbie, the middle brother in both age and temperament, had maybe grown up and away from Ray. Life back home would certainly be easier if her oldest brother was the only unpleasant one in the family.

  ‘You could try, I suppose, or I could teach you how to be posh as well? It’s not that bad, you know, there’s nothing wrong with good manners.’ She laughed as she put an arm around his waist and hugged him affectionately, much to his embarrassment.

  ‘Get off,’ he muttered as he pulled away, making her laugh.

  ‘I’ve really missed you, Arf. You look so grown up now and you’re so tall. It’s a shame you didn’t come to the country, you’d have loved being out in the open. I had a friend Keith who you would have loved playing with. He even had a gun to shoot rabbits and pigeons. It was great fun – even school – and Uncle George and Aunty Babs were so nice to me. I love them so much.’ She paused as she realised exactly what she’d said. ‘But I love you all as well, especially you, and even Ray.’

  ‘We’re boys. Dad said boys who were evacuated were cowards.’ Arthur bristled and squared his shoulders. ‘Dad said we had to look after ourselves and Mum, and that’s what we did. We weren’t girls …’

  ‘Weren’t you scared you might get killed with all the bombs?’ Ruby asked curiously, still aware of the bombed-out houses she’d seen.

  ‘No. We weren’t scared. And now the war’s over and we won! Ray said you weren’t away because of the bombs, he said the posh people wanted you because the bloke’s a cripple and she’s barren. Ray said—’

  ‘That is such rubbish,’ Ruby interrupted angrily. ‘Lots of different people took in evacuees and some of the hosts were really horrible to them. I was really lucky that I ended up where I was. Especially as no one from here bothered to check if I was OK.’

  But Ruby knew that she was wasting her time. Arthur really didn’t understand.

  ‘Ruby, are you going to come and see me?’ called Nan. Ruby turned away from Arthur and started towards the parlour.

  ‘I’m just going to see Nan and then I’ll tell you all about it,’ she said.

  Arthur picked up the cases and followed close behind her.

  ‘You’re supposed to be taking them to my room.’

  ‘I am. Didn’t Mum tell you? You’re going to be sharing with Nan in the parlour. Ray’s got your old room.’

  ‘You’re joking. I can’t share with Nan. And what about the things I left?’ Ruby turned and looked at her brother in horror.

  ‘I think Ma got rid. Ray took your room as soon as you went away. Can’t see him coming back in with me and Bobbie now he’s the head of the house, can you?’ Arthur laughed.

  ‘Why can’t Nan share with Mum?’

  ‘’Cos of the stairs, you idiot.’

  ‘Why can’t I share with Mum?’

  Arthur laughed. ‘I dunno …’ Pretending to spar, he skipped around and punched his sister hard on the arm, the way he used to when they were children, but now he was physically a man and the punch hurt.

  ‘Don’t do that, Arthur,’ she snapped at him. ‘Don’t hit me, don’t ever hit me. We’re not children any more. Adults don’t hit each other.’

  ‘Ooh, get you, Duchess. Ray was right. He said you think you’re better than us now.’

  Looking angry and still unaware of his own strength, he pushed at her and she stumbled backwards slightly.

  ‘Well, I’m definitely better than Ray, I promise you that,’ she snapped back angrily as she struggled to stay on her feet.

  The door was open so Ruby turned straight into what used to be the front parlour, where they would all have dinner on high days and holidays, and formal tea when the parish priest visited, but everything that had been in there was gone, including the familiar battered piano that Ruby had loved to try to play.

  Instead there were two narrow iron-framed beds with a bedside cabinet each, a wardrobe and a tallboy, which took up half the room, leaving just enough space for a chest of drawers with a jug and bowl atop and her grandmother’s armchair in the small bay of the window. Arthur dumped the cases on the bed nearest the door and went out again without saying another word. Ruby knew she’d hurt his feelings but she was upset herself. She was, however, determined to make it up to him later because she knew he was the only one who she could rely on.

  As she looked around all she could see in her mind’s eye was her bedroom back in Cambridgeshire, the large and airy room with a wide comfy bed, a huge walnut wardrobe with drawers underneath, a matching dressing table and a ruby-red chaise longue that Aunty Babs had covered to match the curtains.

  It was all hers but she’d had to leave it behind, and now she was standing in a room less than half the size, which she was going to have to share with her incapacitated grandmother. It just wasn’t fair and, try as she may, she couldn’t understand why they had wanted her back to cramp the house even further.

  Keeping a determined check on the tears that were threatening at the back of her eyes, she went over to the bay where her grandmother was sitting.

  ‘Hello, Nan. I’m back and it looks like I’m sharing with
you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not your fault, Ruby dear. The war’s meant we all have to make sacrifices, and Sarah was good enough to take me in so I can’t grumble. Now come up close so I can see you; my eyes aren’t what they used to be.’ As Ruby moved closer the woman grabbed her hands and pulled her down. ‘Ooh, you’re a proper young lady, you are now, by the looks of it. Ray said you’d grown up. Now tell me all about it while you unpack. There’s some coat hangers on the side. You’re going to have to use the picture rail for now to hang your clothes until I have a sort-out.’

  ‘I’ll unpack later, Nan, I’m so tired …’

  ‘All right, dear. Then can you help me through to the back? We can have a cuppa before tea. I don’t eat with the boys – they’re too noisy and there’s not enough room at the table. Me and your ma eat after they’ve all finished and gone out doing whatever it is that young men do nowadays. You’ll be eating with us, I suppose.’

  Ruby didn’t answer; she just couldn’t think what to say. She was both horrified and saddened as she looked at the elderly woman with stooped shoulders and cloudy eyes, who was peering up at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. One hand rested atop a wooden walking stick and the other gripped a vast dark grey crocheted shawl around her shoulders.

  During the five years she had been away Sarah Blakeley had visited her daughter every other year on her birthday, but as Ruby hadn’t been home at all she hadn’t seen her grandmother in all that time, and she was shocked to see how much she’d aged.

  It was on one of the birthday visits that her mother had told her that Nan, already a widow, had been bombed out of her own house in Stepney and had come to stay with the family, and after her eyesight had deteriorated there was no way she could live alone. So there she had stayed, despite the overcrowded accommodation.

  ‘Shall we go through to the back now, Nan? How do you want me to help you?’

  ‘Just let me take your arm. It’s the rheumatics, they kill me in this weather and make me feel ancient.’ She laughed. ‘Oh, it’s good to have you home. You can help your mother around the house. Those boys are such hard work for her, what with her job and me being no use to her any more.’

  ‘I’ve not come home to look after the boys, Nan. I’ll help when I can but I’m going to be a nurse. I’m going to get a job and save up to start training when I’m eighteen.’ Ruby smiled down at her grandmother hanging on her arm.

  ‘Ooh no, Ruby, I don’t think the boys’ll let you do that. Oh no, dear, no.’ The woman’s voice rose sharply and she shook her head so violently Ruby took a couple of steps back. ‘They said you were coming home to look after me and help your mother in the house. That’s why they wanted you home … and they’re a real handful for your poor mother, especially with no father to make them take heed.’

  ‘I’m not doing that. If I can’t go to school then I’m going to work.’

  The old lady pursed her lips and blew out air noisily. ‘I wish it was so, but I don’t think so, dear, I really don’t …’

  Ruby stopped listening as she wondered how to stop Ray from taking over her life now, as Nan had reminded her, their father wasn’t around to control the boys.

  Ruby hadn’t seen her father since the day she had been shipped off to Cambridgeshire, but she had rarely given him a thought. Frank Blakeley had always been so distant with her that she might as well not have existed in the family; it was as if she were invisible. He would, however, often rough and tumble fiercely with his sons to teach them to be men, and discipline them harshly for the smallest misdemeanour, his belt being the favoured tool of formal punishment, or his hand around the back of the head for an instant reprimand.

  It was usually Ray who was the recipient of the fiercest beatings because he just would not give in. Ruby and Arthur would cower together, staying as quiet as possible when their father was beating Ray into submission, each of them praying for him to apologise and end it, but he rarely would. It meant that afterwards, despite the pain and the silent tears, Ray would be victorious.

  Believing that girls were the responsibility of their mothers, Frank had never laid a finger on his daughter; but he had never interacted with her either. The news that he was dead had been a shock and she had felt sad – he was her father after all – but nowhere near as upset as some of the other evacuees had been when they had received similar news during the war. In the years she was in evacuation George Wheaton had been more of a responsible father figure to her than her own father had in the previous ten, and she adored him for it.

  ‘Mum?’ Ruby said as she helped her grandmother down the step into the back room. ‘Are you there, Mum?’

  She had expected her brothers to all be there to welcome her back; for her mother to be waiting for her; but no one seemed to be around.

  The room was long and dim, with a single standard lamp alight in the corner; it was dominated by an impressive round table with large bulbous feet, which was covered in a shiny oilskin tablecloth and encircled by six hard-back chairs. The alcoves either side of the chimney breast had built-in dressers, which were filled with assorted crockery, serving dishes and the best sherry glasses. A wooden canteen of cutlery had pride of place on one side, and two large Chinese-style vases, which had previously stood either side of the fireplace in the parlour, on the other.

  As her grandmother sat at the table and shuffled herself comfortable, Ruby went through the scullery to the back door, which was wedged open with an old iron pot. She stepped out into the back yard, trying to ignore the outside lavatory, which she knew she would have to get used to using again. Just the thought of it made her feel nauseous.

  ‘Mum? Where are you?’

  ‘Out here, Ruby, just getting the washing in. I should have done it hours ago. Can you come and help me?’

  ‘Nan wants her tea. I said I’d make her a cup of tea while she waits. I thought the boys would be here to say hello.’

  ‘Well, Nan will just have to wait until I’ve finished this, unless you want to heat it up for her. It’s in the oven with yours. The boys have gone off somewhere like they always do and there’s all this needs doing. Good job it’s been a nice day, but it’s already starting to get damp.’ Her mother looked at her and smiled brightly. ‘Now come over here and I’ll show you whose clothes are whose. The boys don’t like it if their clothes get all mixed up!’

  ‘The boys, the boys. Don’t you want to know what’s been going on for me? I’ve been away for five years. Five years,’ Ruby said flatly without moving. The washing line was stretched the length of the small back yard, which was part paved and part vegetable garden. A small corrugated roof extended out from the scullery and provided cover for the mangle. At the end, the gate that led out into the back alley was open.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Ruby, we’ve got plenty of time to catch up on everything now you’re back for good. Back where you belong, not up there with those snobs. Here, hold this for me …’

  Still smiling, Sarah pushed a battered laundry basket at her. Looking down, she remarked, ‘Those shoes are a bit too grown up for you. You’re only fifteen and they’ve got a heel …’

  ‘And they’re too big for you,’ Ruby replied quickly with a smile, aware of the way the conversation was about to go. ‘My feet are huge.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ her mother replied seriously, still looking at her daughter’s feet. ‘I can stuff paper in the toes.’

  Ruby didn’t answer. She didn’t want an argument, but she could see her mother was going to find it hard to accept that Ruby had gone away a child and come back an independent young woman with a mind of her own and ambitions to fulfil.

  At that moment, standing in the back yard with a washing basket of clothes in front of her, she knew that she couldn’t stay in Walthamstow. It had been her home when she was a child but now that she had seen a different way of life it was alien to her. She’d tried to do the right thing but she could see that her return had actually been nothing to do with her personal
ly. It was simply a power struggle, with her mother and Ray asserting their position over the Wheatons.

  She watched as her mother quickly took the washing off the line and transferred it to the basket Ruby was holding out. She pretended she was listening to her mother’s instruction about whose clothes were whose but she was already mentally composing her letter to George and Babs Wheaton, telling them she wanted to go back.

  But even as she was doing it she knew that the letter would be the easy part. Persuading her mother andRay would be the problem.

  THREE

  Ruby found life back at the Blakeley family home far more difficult to deal with than she had ever expected and, as the weeks passed, it got worse rather than better. She looked after her grandmother, helped around the house and ran errands for her continually overworked and dog-tired mother. She did her duty as she saw it, the duty she had gone home to do, but nothing seemed enough. Alongside that she generally irritated her bombastic brother, Ray, as much as she could, her view being that if she annoyed him enough there wouldn’t be any objections to her leaving and going back to Cambridgeshire.

  As the days passed she became increasingly obsessed with getting back to the Wheatons, and it always took several seconds when she woke up in the morning to remember where she was and then for the overwhelming sense of injustice to rise again. But her mother refused point blank to even discuss Ruby’s return to Melton.

  ‘Mum? I’m off to the High Street,’ Ruby shouted, quickly pulling the front door closed behind her and hotfooting it away from the house. She wanted to escape before she was given an even longer list of things to do and items to try to buy. She resented always having to do the shopping, especially with rationing making it such a chore, but at least it got her out of the house and away from her mother’s ongoing domestic grumblings, and Ray’s tormenting, which was made worse by her middle brother, Bobbie, slavishly agreeing with his every word. Arthur remained her friend as best he could, but his fear of upsetting his oldest brother meant he would always run off and hide rather than get involved.