Blue Moon

by Weaver, Pam

  The Lyons ice-cream boy went by calling, ‘Stop me and buy one …’ and she smiled to herself. The ice creams were loaded into a big box on the front of his tricycle, and the slogan on his crossbar also said: Stop me and buy one. The sun was still warm and bathers splashed in the sea. The tide was coming in now, and she knew that on the beach at East Worthing her father would be preparing the boat ready for fishing. She sighed and wondered what he would say when she told him she’d been given five pounds. For a moment or two she fantasized that he would smile and tell her it was wonderful. He would give her a bear hug and kiss her roughly on the forehead, in the same way he kissed May, and then he would grab her hands and they would dance around the kitchen, laughing and crying at the same time.

  A gull landed a few feet in front of her and regarded her with its cold eye. That’s when Ruby came down to earth. Her father wouldn’t be pleased about the money, would he? He’d probably stare at her like that gull, with its cold and untrusting eye, and question her honesty. And, even if he did believe her story, it wouldn’t occur to him that she might want to do something with the money herself. She could just hear him making his own plans for a new bit of fishing gear or a couple of new lobster pots.

  ‘Well, you’re not having it,’ she said crossly. ‘It’s my money.’

  Until she was sure what she wanted to do, she wouldn’t tell anyone about the five pounds. She would put the money somewhere safe – somewhere nobody could touch it – and then make up her mind. The sun came out from under a cloud and warmed her face. Ruby stood up and brushed the back of her dress down. She would go straight into town and open a Post Office savings account.

  Back home, Ruby pulled the suitcase out of the scullery, where she’d left it the night before. It felt quite heavy; she was disappointed. Obviously not much had been taken out yet, and she’d thought it would be really helpful. She’d been reading an article in one of the magazines left behind by a guest. In America, the Depression had bitten deep. Years of drought and deep ploughing had created ‘black blizzards’ as the soil, now with the consistency of dust, was carried away by the wind. The people were starving, and yet the article spoke of their resilience and how they helped each other by sharing their skills instead of paying money for services. The idea had created a strong sense of community, and it struck a chord with Ruby. The people in her own street were all going through some sort of hardship, to a lesser or greater degree. She knew, for instance, that Tilly Morgan’s girls – a couple of years younger than May – wore dresses that were far too small, and yet when her mother had offered Tilly a couple of May’s old dresses that were in perfectly good nick, Mrs Morgan had refused them. ‘Thank you very much, but I don’t take charity,’ Tilly had said stiffly.

  At the time Ruby had thought it just plain stupid but, on reflection, perhaps her stubborn pride was all Tilly Morgan had left. There had to be a way of sharing things that didn’t allow pride to get in the way. It was when she saw her mother and Aunt Vinny swapping a couple of cardigans that she had the idea.

  Bea gave her the old suitcase from under the bed, and Ruby put some of May’s old dresses inside. She herself had bought a frock from the second-hand shop, but when she’d got it home, she didn’t like it. That went in too; and Aunt Vinny contributed a few things, including some of Cousin Lily’s casts-offs. With a little room left in the suitcase, Ruby set out for her neighbour’s house.

  ‘We’ve been passing this suitcase around the neighbours,’ she’d told Thelma Brown, her first choice to try out the new scheme. ‘The idea is that you see if you’d like something from it, and put something that you don’t want in the suitcase, to replace it.’

  Thelma had looked a little sceptical until she opened the case.

  ‘Of course, it goes without saying that whatever you put in,’ Ruby went on, as Thelma held up one of Aunt Vinny’s blouses to the light, ‘should be clean and usable, but it doesn’t matter how many things you take out, so long as you put something back in.’

  Thelma looked up. ‘I’m not sure if this will fit.’

  ‘Try it on,’ said Ruby. ‘In fact,’ she added, as if she’d only just thought of the idea, ‘why don’t you keep the case for a day or two, and then pass it on to someone else. Tilly Morgan perhaps.’

  ‘I will,’ said Thelma, ‘and then I’ll bring it back to yours.’

  That was a week ago, and now the suitcase was back. She undid the fasteners and lifted the lid. May’s dresses had gone, but some smaller clothes were in their place. There was a man’s pullover and a couple of skirts she didn’t recognize, but there was also a blouse she was sure she’d seen Norah Granger wearing on the day of the outing, when she’d helped Dr Palmer onto the coach. Ruby tugged at the pretty scarf, which had come from Cousin Lily. She had really liked it when she’d put it into the suitcase, but nobody had taken it out. When she’d put in the dress that she’d bought at the second-hand shop, she hadn’t taken anything for herself, so Ruby took it for herself now. With the scarf around her neck, she closed the case. It was time to pass it on to Florrie Dart.

  ‘What do you mean, you were given half a day off?’ Her father was incredulous. ‘What – just for pulling that old man into the coach?’

  ‘And another two and sixpence in my wage packet,’ said Ruby.

  Her mother gave her a hug. ‘Oh, Ruby, that’s wonderful. Well done.’

  Percy clapped her on the shoulder. ‘Good on you, Sis,’ he grinned. ‘Do that a few more times and you’ll be a rich woman.’

  May stayed where she was, with her elbows on the table and her head resting on her left hand. ‘Will you buy me some sweeties when you get paid?’

  They had just eaten their tea. When Ruby got back from Florrie’s place, she had gone straight up to the room she shared with May. She’d put her Post Office book in the wardrobe, right at the back, in an old handbag she never used. It was her secret. She wasn’t going to tell anyone about it; but, after their meal, she had to explain why she wasn’t going back to Warnes to turn the beds down.

  Her father stood up and, for one glorious moment, Ruby actually thought he was going to give her a hug, but instead he went to the hearth and picked up his fisherman’s boots. Sitting back in his chair, he pulled them on.

  ‘What gets me,’ he began, ‘is that you didn’t even do it yourself. It was Cecil and Albert Longman who did all the work. Where’s their reward then, eh?’

  ‘Couldn’t you – just for once – say something nice to Ruby?’ Percy demanded.

  ‘It’s all right for you, swanning around with your extra two and sixpence and a half-day off,’ said Nelson, ignoring his son, ‘but some of us work hard for a living.’

  ‘I work hard too, Father,’ Ruby bristled.

  Her father grunted. ‘Coming, boy?’

  ‘Trust you to go spoiling things,’ said Percy. ‘You miserable old devil.’

  Their father leapt to his feet, his eyes blazing and his arm raised.

  ‘Don’t you dare lay a hand on me,’ said Percy coldly. ‘Hit me and it’ll be the last thing you do.’

  ‘You should learn some respect,’ Nelson spat. He began to unbuckle his trouser belt. In an attitude of defiance, Percy stood slowly to his feet, his eyes fixed on his father’s face.

  Ruby pulled on her brother’s arm to stop him. ‘Percy, don’t.’

  ‘Respect is something you earn,’ Percy retorted.

  ‘Nelson, please,’ cried Bea, standing between them.

  ‘If he hits me again, Mother, I swear I’ll walk out of that door and never come back.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me,’ said Nelson, lowering his arm. ‘Get your boots on. The tide is on the turn.’ He looked away and the atmosphere in the room became less charged.

  Reluctantly Percy went to get his boots. Nelson swung round and looked at Ruby. ‘And you can give that two and sixpence to your mother,’ he said. ‘It’s about time you paid your way in this house.’

  Ruby’s face flushed.

  ‘Be fair
, Nelson,’ said Bea. ‘It’s Ruby’s money. If she hadn’t seen Dr Palmer and made Cecil stop the coach, nobody would have been any the wiser.’

  ‘Did anyone ask your opinion?’ Nelson demanded. Bea cowed. ‘No. Then keep your nose out of it.’

  Deflated and miserable, Ruby sat back down at the table. Avoiding her daughter’s eye, Bea busied herself by stacking the dishes, ready to wash up.

  ‘By the way,’ Nelson said to Ruby, ‘Albert Longman stopped by to see me about you.’

  Ruby frowned. ‘Albert Longman?’

  ‘It seems he’s sweet on you,’ said her father. He laughed sardonically. ‘Although what he sees in you, I can’t imagine. Your hair is as straight as a die and you’ve got no shape, but there it is. There’s none so blind, as they say, and he wants to court you.’

  ‘Albert Longman?’ said Ruby again.

  ‘That’s what I said, cloth ears,’ Nelson snapped. ‘Anyway, I told him it was all right.’

  ‘But I’m not in the least bit interested in Albert Longman,’ Ruby cried. The thought of it filled her with horror, and she could feel tears pricking the backs of her eyes. ‘I’ve never thought of him in that way. I don’t even like him.’

  ‘Well, you must have encouraged him somehow, or he wouldn’t have asked me,’ said Nelson. ‘Anyway he’s coming round Sunday. Come and kiss your pa, May darlin’.’

  ‘Father, he’s years older than me,’ Ruby insisted. ‘I don’t want to be married to an old man.’

  May climbed down from the table and Nelson picked her up. ‘Be a good girl for Pa, won’t you?’ he said, kissing her cheek and ignoring Ruby.

  ‘I will,’ said May and wriggled down. Stopping only to ruffle her hair, Nelson walked out of the room.

  ‘Father!’ cried Ruby.

  Percy turned to follow him, but then turned back to kiss his mother and sister.

  ‘Good fishing,’ said Ruby, giving him a sad smile.

  ‘Well done, Sis,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Whatever they gave you, you deserve it.’

  ‘But I don’t deserve Albert flippin’ Longman.’

  ‘You coming, boy?’ their father shouted from the street. ‘We haven’t got all day.’

  Percy patted her shoulder. ‘You’re right. You definitely don’t deserve Albert Longman.’ And they both grinned.

  CHAPTER 5

  The next few days were difficult for Ruby. Nothing was said, but it was clear that the events in Mr Payne’s office had for some reason annoyed Mrs Fosdyke. From her demeanour when she’d summoned her, Ruby guessed that Mrs Fosdyke had expected her to get a reprimand, or the sack. She had been as surprised as Ruby herself when she got an accolade and a reward. Ruby did her work efficiently, as usual, but the housekeeper followed close behind her, complaining about trivial things. ‘Those towels aren’t straight, Bateman.’ ‘Bateman, the curtains in room 34 weren’t pulled back far enough.’ ‘You’ve forgotten to put a serving spoon on the staff table again, and where’s the soap for the sink in room 38?’ The final straw came when Ruby returned to her perfect linen cupboard to put in some clean sheets.

  ‘Morning, Ruby,’ Winnie, the florist, called cheerfully as she walked by.

  ‘Good morning,’ Ruby smiled. For some reason she had difficulty in getting the linen-cupboard door open and, when she finally did, she discovered that Mrs Fosdyke had pulled everything from the shelves onto the floor. Her heart sank and tears sprang to her eyes. She was going off-duty in ten minutes, and refolding and stacking everything into neat piles would take at least an hour.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said Winnie sympathetically. ‘That’s a shame. I’d offer to help but …’

  ‘Blimey, Roob,’ said Edith, coming up behind her. ‘What has the old witch done now?’

  ‘I wondered what Mrs Fosdyke was doing,’ said Winnie. ‘That was a bit unkind, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I really wish I hadn’t been given that extra half-day off,’ said Ruby miserably. ‘She’s made my life hell ever since.’

  ‘Don’t let the bugger get you down,’ said Edith. ‘She likes to see she’s upset you. Don’t give her the satisfaction.’ She bent to pick up some pillowcases. ‘Come on, let’s get started.’

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ said Winnie, collecting her things and going upstairs. ‘I’ve only got a couple more vases to do, and then I’ll come and help.’

  ‘That’s all right, Mrs Moore,’ said Edith. ‘Ruby and I’ll get it done in no time.’

  ‘You don’t have to stay either, Edith,’ said Ruby, blowing her nose. ‘Why should you give up your afternoon as well?’

  ‘Because you’re my pal,’ said Edith, ‘and besides, with two of us on the job, we’ll get it done in no time.’

  Ruby could have hugged her.

  ‘You’ll never guess,’ said Edith.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve got a gentleman caller.’

  Ruby’s eyebrows shot up.

  ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ beamed Edith.

  ‘I – I’m not,’ said Ruby, slightly flustered. ‘It’s just that you used such an old-fashioned expression.’ She hoped Edith believed her. She didn’t want to hurt her feelings, for the world. ‘Who is he? Do we know him?’

  ‘His name is Bernard Gressenhall,’ said Edith, ‘and he works at Potter & Bailey in Montague Street – on the bacon counter.’

  The people who worked at Potter & Bailey wore long aprons over their clothes, so it was hard trying to recall any distinguishing features. However, Ruby did vaguely remember a rather jolly man with dark hair who worked on the bacon counter.

  ‘He’s ever so nice,’ Edith went on. ‘He’s got a brother in the army, and his dad works on the railway. We’re off to the pictures on my day off.’

  ‘Good for you,’ smiled Ruby. ‘I wish there was someone I was keen on. Though there is someone interested in me, it seems,’ she said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Apparently,’ Ruby said confidentially, leaning closer, ‘Albert Longman asked my father if he could court me.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby,’ cried Edith. ‘He’s such a bloomin’ big-head.’ They were folding sheets as a team, and the cupboard was quickly taking shape. They heard a rustle behind them and froze, thinking it was Mrs Fosdyke, but it was only Winnie Moore coming back downstairs. ‘Oh, you gave us a scare,’ said Edith.

  ‘Sorry, dear,’ she said. ‘Can I give you a hand?’

  ‘We’ve nearly finished,’ said Ruby, ‘but thanks for offering.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ said Winnie with a nod.

  Edith waited until she was out of earshot and then said, ‘You don’t like Albert Longman, do you?’

  ‘No, I don’t. He may be good with children – that’s what they all say – but he’s old. He’s boring.’

  ‘All right, keep your hair on,’ Edith laughed. ‘Do you fancy a stroll when we’ve finished this? There’s hardly time for me to get back home, before I have to come back to turn the beds down.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ruby, ‘why not? I might even treat you to an ice cream, if you like.’

  ‘Oooh, thanks, Roob,’ said Edith.

  The weather was quite good as they came down the staff stairs, but when they stepped into the street there was an acrid smell in the air.

  Edith took a deep breath. ‘Whatever’s that?’

  ‘It smells like a fire,’ said Ruby, and at almost the same moment a fire engine came hurtling out of High Street and into the Steyne, its bell clanging. People were running along Marine Parade, but it wasn’t until they turned the corner that they saw the heavy pall of dark-grey smoke.

  ‘The pier!’ cried Ruby. ‘The pier is on fire.’

  They hurried along the road, hardly able to believe their own eyes. Hundreds of holidaymakers, some still in their bathing costumes and others with wet towels over their mouths, had formed a human chain and were struggling to salvage articles from the Southern Pavilion. As they broke into a run along Marine Parade, a group of men were trundling
a grand piano along the walkway, and by the time they got onto the pier themselves, they were met by people carrying plush seats, tables and chairs. It was obvious that the people of Worthing were anxious to save whatever they could from the inferno.

  Ruby was so upset she could have cried. The lovely pier, where she’d walked as a child, was going up in smoke. Where would the men who fished off the end go now? Where would the Waverley paddle steamer dock if the pier was gone? Who would want to come to Worthing if there was no pier?

  The firemen had rolled out a hose, but some well-meaning civilians had accidentally knocked one of the joins apart before the water could reach the seat of the fire.

  ‘Look out!’ someone cried, as another man reversed a car onto what remained of the walkway. Ruby and Edith helped the rescuers load it up with bits of furniture and anything else they could lay their hands on. It was imperative to take it to the shore, and safety. Another human chain, from the iron steps to the water’s edge, was passing buckets of sea water up and was dousing the decking. Dodging a photographer who was taking pictures, Ruby and Edith decided they could be of more help by joining them.

  Fit young men then began attacking the wooden planks halfway along the pier.

  ‘What on earth are they doing?’ Ruby cried, dismayed. ‘Why are they pulling it apart?’

  ‘To try and stop the flames from taking the whole thing,’ said a man with a handkerchief on his head, knotted at each corner. ‘I’d help them too, if it weren’t for me bad back.’

  Some men had picks and some had crowbars, whilst others prised the planks away with whatever they could find. They were doing quite well until a man stepped back, not realizing that the decking behind him had already been removed. There was a terrified scream, and seconds later he hit the water some fifteen feet below. By some miracle he missed the girders on the way down and wasn’t hurt. Ruby was relieved to see him being picked up by the coxswain of the Worthing Inshore Rescue boat, who was patrolling the area in the sea around the pier.

  Underneath them, and a little further along, a fireman had attached a workman’s ladder to one of the steel girders and began aiming the hose at the underside.