Blue Moon

by Weaver, Pam

  Jim disappeared and came back with a small man, aged about twenty-five to thirty, wearing a shabby suit and a shirt with frayed cuffs. He shook her hand warmly.

  Isaac repeated some of the things Jim had already told her, about being a cobbler back in Germany and how the new chancellor’s policies had made life increasingly difficult. Since his wife and child had tragically died, and his sister-in-law was missing, presumed dead, he had no family, so he’d decided to come to Britain while he still could. He was matter-of-fact about the details of his enforced exile and admitted that he had been unable to find work using his skills. He now worked for Worthing Parks and Gardens, and walked to their big nursery in the Durrington area every day. ‘I enjoy to work the flowers,’ he told her. ‘It is good in the open air. Healthy, ja?’ He beamed and thumped his chest, but Ruby could see the heartache behind his smile.

  With the nights beginning to draw in, there was no hope of doing lessons outside, so it was agreed that they would meet in Mrs Grimes’s dining room, twice a week for one hour. Mrs Grimes wanted two bob a week, starting with a month’s payment in advance. Ruby had come prepared and handed over eight shillings. Isaac said he would do the lessons for nothing, but Ruby insisted on giving him two pounds to start with, which they agreed would cover the first six weeks of lessons. She didn’t want to embarrass him, but in his present predicament, a few extra shillings might be helpful. ‘I’m not sure if I’ll be clever enough,’ she explained cautiously. ‘I have a little money saved, so I need to find out before the money runs out.’

  ‘Then we must work very hard,’ Isaac said.

  They shook hands again and Jim walked Ruby home.

  ‘How’s Martha?’ she blurted out during a lull in the conversation. There, she’d said it at last. She waited with bated breath. How much did he care about Martha, and where was she?

  ‘I don’t understand why you keep asking me about her,’ Jim said, with a puzzled expression.

  ‘One of the other girls told me you were stepping out with her,’ said Ruby.

  Jim threw back his head and laughed. ‘I have never stepped out with anyone,’ he chuckled. Then, suddenly looking very serious, he added, ‘But while we’re on the subject, if I was tempted to ask you to step out with me, what would you say, Ruby Bateman?’

  Ruby’s heartbeat quickened and she felt herself blushing like mad. She was grateful that it was getting dark or Jim might have seen her face. ‘If you did ask me to step out, James Searle,’ she said, willing her voice not to give away her excitement, ‘I would tell you I would think about it.’

  ‘I sort of expected you to say that,’ he said. ‘You’re an astute woman, Ruby. I would expect nothing less.’

  Jokingly Ruby wet her eyebrow with her finger and grinned. What did ‘astute’ mean? She might try and look it up in the dictionary in the hotel, if she got half a chance.

  Because the two of them dawdled so much, it took them three times as long as it normally did to get home. By the time they had arrived, Ruby had agreed to meet Jim again on Friday to go to the pictures, although neither of them had a clue what was showing.

  ‘I’ll meet you outside Warnes on Friday then,’ he said, as Ruby stepped inside the gate and onto the postage-stamp-sized garden. ‘We can decide then.’

  ‘All right,’ she said.

  Jim lifted his hat. ‘Night then, Ruby.’

  ‘See you Friday,’ she returned and, with a warm, excited glow inside, she went into the house.

  When she got home the next day, the meal was Ruby’s favourite: cottage pie with cabbage. She helped her mother dish it up, and everybody sat down. May was at Brownies and Tilly Morgan was bringing her home. Bea saved her a plate of food and put it over a pan of boiling water to keep hot. Their father said little except ‘Pass the salt’ and ‘Where’s the HP?’

  Ruby knew Percy planned to make his announcement tonight, and the anticipation of what might happen when their father discovered he was leaving made her nervous. She dropped her fork twice.

  ‘What’s the matter with you?’ Nelson said gruffly, the second time it happened.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Ruby, keeping her eyes on her plate.

  ‘Been out with the nitwit yet?’

  Ruby looked up. ‘What nitwit?’

  ‘Albert Longman, of course,’ said Nelson. ‘Him who wants to court you.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I told you, I don’t want to step out with Albert Longman.’

  ‘Why not?’ her father challenged. ‘He’s got a cottage for you to live in and all.’

  Ruby looked around the table helplessly. ‘Father, I’m too young to be courting,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to settle down with anyone.’ In her head she was thinking, Except perhaps with Jim Searle, but nobody else.

  ‘Huh,’ said her father. ‘You might live to regret that, my girl. You won’t get a better offer, and I can’t afford to keep you for the rest of your life.’

  ‘If he’s so wonderful, why do you call him such horrible names?’ snapped Ruby, suddenly finding the courage to speak out. She stared at her father defiantly. ‘You never have a good word to say about him.’

  ‘Then I reckon you two are perfectly suited,’ said Nelson, leaning forward with a jut of his chin.

  Ruby returned to her meal, although she had lost her appetite. She should answer back, but what was the point? He’d said enough for one night, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him see her upset.

  Nelson threw his knife and fork onto the tablecloth and picked up his plate to lick the gravy, and then, sitting back in his chair, he belched. ‘Where’s the tea, woman?’ A rancid smell filled the air and Ruby knew he’d farted as well.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said Bea, starting to get up.

  ‘I’ll do it, Mum,’ said Ruby.

  Her disgust for her father meant she was glad to get out of the room and away from him. Out in the scullery she splashed her face with cold water and filled the kettle. Forcing herself to calm down, she waited a second or two before she came back into the room to put the kettle on. Why did he say such terrible things? He never had a good word to say about her. When she’d left school, the headmistress had told Ruby she would make a good secretary, but when she’d told her father that, he’d poured scorn on the idea. ‘We’re working-class people,’ he’d said. ‘I’ll get you a job.’ So she’d skivvied for a couple of people and had ended up in Warnes. Oh, it was all right as far as jobs went, but at times she felt frustrated. She was capable of doing so much more than making beds, but she dared not question her father’s decision. What had she ever done to him to make him so spiteful? She should pluck up the courage to ask him outright, but she was too scared. Unlike Percy, who had suffered all his life from their father’s belt. Nelson had never laid a finger on her, but his vicious tongue left her wounded for days. She hated herself for being such a coward. Don’t be such a twit, she told herself crossly; words are just words. The old children’s rhyme came to mind: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me … It wasn’t true, of course. Sticks and stones might bruise the skin, but words went a lot deeper; words could destroy your soul.

  She could hear Percy’s voice as she walked back into the room to make the tea. Her father was on his feet.

  ‘What do you mean, you’re leaving?’ he shouted. ‘You can’t walk out on a hundred and fifty years of fishing in this family.’

  ‘Just watch me,’ said Percy. ‘I hate everything about it. I hate the sea and I hate being in that damned boat with you. I hate always being on the sharp end of your tongue too. I won’t put up with it for a second longer. When was the last time you said “Thank you” for anything?’

  ‘Oh, poor little lamb has his nose out of joint,’ said Nelson sarcastically. Then, changing his tone of voice, he added harshly, ‘Well, beggars can’t be choosers in this life, boy. You’re not going to sit around here all day on your lazy fat arse, doing nothing. You’re co
ming out on the boat with me.’

  ‘I’ll come tonight, but that’s the last time,’ said Percy. ‘After that I’ve got a job driving long-distance lorries.’

  For a moment Nelson seemed totally winded and sat down heavily. Ruby put the tea on the table in front of him and he rounded on her. ‘I suppose you knew all about this and didn’t bother to tell me,’ he cried. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t put him up to it, in the first place.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ she protested.

  ‘I told Ruby and Mother a couple of days ago,’ said Percy, ‘but I told them not to say anything. I knew the way you would react. Don’t worry, I’ll pay my way.’

  ‘You won’t be living in this house, that’s for sure,’ said Nelson.

  Bea put her hand to her mouth. ‘But, Nelson, Percy said he’d go out with you for one more night,’ she said nervously.

  ‘He’s not staying under my roof a second longer,’ Nelson shouted. ‘If you’re going, you can go now.’

  ‘Father,’ Ruby began, ‘if you would just see reason—’

  ‘See reason?’ her father bellowed. He took a swipe at her, but instead knocked the tea flying. Bea jumped up to stem the ensuing flood, but it was too late. The two men stared at each other, with Nelson pointing to the door. ‘Get out!’

  ‘Well, if that’s how your feel,’ said Percy, getting to his feet.

  ‘No, Percy, please,’ cried Bea. ‘Nelson, you can’t …’

  ‘It’s all right, Mother,’ said Percy in a kindly tone. ‘This day has been a long time coming, and it’s fine by me.’

  The door burst open and May ran into her father’s arms. She looked so sweet in her Brownie uniform and, oblivious to the atmosphere in the room, she prattled away, full of the lovely evening she’d just had. ‘I practised my Brownie promise,’ she said, ‘and Brown Owl said I was the best. “I promise to do my best, to do my duty to God and the King and to help other people every day, especially those at home.”’

  ‘Bravo!’ cried Nelson. ‘There’s my clever girl.’

  Percy turned away and went upstairs. Bea and Ruby turned to follow, but even though he was distracted by May, Nelson spotted them. ‘Leave him,’ he hissed. ‘And get this mess cleared up, woman.’

  Miserably, the two women did as he told them. A little later Percy came back downstairs with a suitcase.

  ‘Bye, Mother.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ May wanted to know.

  ‘He’s going on holiday,’ said Nelson.

  ‘Oooh,’ said May, ‘can I come too?’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to leave your poor old pa, would you?’ said Nelson.

  Bea looked broken-hearted as she hugged her son.

  ‘I’ll write,’ Percy said, but they both knew he wasn’t much of a letter-writer.

  ‘Where will you stay?’ asked Ruby, holding out her arms as well.

  ‘That’s enough of that nonsense,’ said Nelson, getting to his feet. ‘Time this child went to bed and, unlike some around here, I’ve got a living to make.’ With that, he pushed himself between Percy and Ruby and held the door open until his son had gone. Then he slammed the door and, turning the key in the lock, went into the scullery to change into his work things.

  CHAPTER 8

  Ruby woke with a start.

  In her dream, she was sailing around the burning pier in a boat with a Union Jack flag. Jim Searle was right behind her, banging the sides of the boat with a silver-topped cane. As the dream faded, she realized that she had woken up because someone was hammering on the front door. She flung back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shuddering as she felt the cold floor under her feet. She stood up, her heart already pounding. Her sister May, beside her in the double bed, stirred sleepily.

  The banging got louder.

  ‘What’s that?’ May sat up. Her voice was apprehensive.

  ‘Somebody at the door,’ said Ruby, scratching her tousled hair. A flash of lightning lit up the room; the weather outside was wild. Ruby snatched her dressing gown from the bedpost. Whoever was at the door was determined no one should sleep. Something must be terribly wrong. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going.’

  Stupid thing to say. She was already frantic with worry herself. She raced barefoot downstairs. The blood beat in her head and her hands trembled as she struck a match and lit the gas lamp on the wall. As the light grew stronger, the shadows fled, but the chill morning air cut like a knife through her nightdress as she drew her dressing gown around her and tied the cord. The banging had woken her mother in the back room. Ruby heard her cough.

  Downstairs at last, she pulled open the front door and the cold morning rushed in uninvited. Albert Longman stood on the empty street, his hand raised to bang on the door again. His hair was all over the place and his grey eyes were as wild as the wind. She stared at him crossly. ‘What on earth do you think you are doing?’ she demanded. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’

  ‘It’s your father,’ he blurted out.

  Ruby’s blood ran cold.

  ‘They found your father’s boat,’ Albert blundered on. ‘It was empty. He must have gone overboard …’

  She heard a far-away boom and another flash lit up the sky.

  ‘That’ll be the maroon for the Shoreham lifeboat,’ said Albert as they both turned to look. ‘One of the other fishermen ran to the telephone by the pavilion to get help. I came here to tell you.’

  For a second Ruby couldn’t speak. She found it hard to take in what he was saying. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What were you doing with Father?’

  ‘I wasn’t in the boat with him,’ said Albert, ‘but I’ve been writing an article about local fishermen. Ruby, this is wasting precious time. Have you any idea what time he went fishing?’ Albert ploughed on. ‘That boat could have drifted for miles.’

  ‘Who is it?’ her mother called.

  Ruby shook herself. ‘What about Percy? Was he with my father?’

  ‘Percy? I don’t know,’ Albert shrugged. He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I only turned up as the boats were coming in. No one mentioned Percy. What time is it now?’

  Ruby glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Nearly five,’ she said and, for the first time, she realized that it was raining hard and that Albert was getting soaked. ‘Come in, Albert.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m very wet.’

  ‘Ruby?’ Her mother was on the stair, her voice cracked and breathless. ‘What’s happened? Who’s there?’

  ‘It’s about Mr Bateman, Mrs Bateman,’ said Albert. ‘Some fishermen found his boat with nobody in it. They’ve brought it up on the beach, but there was no sign of Nelson.’

  They heard Bea draw in her breath.

  ‘You never know,’ Albert added quickly, ‘he could have swum ashore or something.’

  ‘You say the boat is on the beach?’ said Ruby, springing into life.

  ‘I’m on my way back there,’ said Albert.

  ‘Wait for me,’ Ruby cried as she raced back up the stairs, passing her mother on the way.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Bea asked after her receding back.

  ‘I need to see his boat for myself,’ Ruby said. Part of her knew it was ridiculous and there was little point in going, but the other part of her felt that if she didn’t see the evidence with her own eyes, she would never believe it. Albert wouldn’t have come all the way here to tell a lie, but he was no fisherman and he could easily have made a ghastly mistake.

  Back in her bedroom, May was sitting up yawning. Ruby threw off her nightdress and pulled on some warm clothes.

  ‘Where are you going?’ May asked.

  ‘I just have to pop out for a bit,’ said Ruby. ‘You lie down and go back to sleep. I’ll be back in no time.’

  ‘Who was banging on the door?’

  ‘Albert Longman.’

  May grinned. ‘Is he here to ask you out?’

  ‘Something like that,’ said Ruby, pulling up her stocking.
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  ‘Father said you two suited each other,’ May yawned. ‘He said you were both a couple of numbskulls.’

  Ruby faltered, bristling with anger.

  ‘What does “numbskull” mean?’ said May.

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ said Ruby, recovering herself and pushing her feet into her shoes. ‘Now, go back to sleep, there’s a good girl.’

  May yawned again and then lay back and rolled onto her side. Ruby stopped only long enough to pull the covers right over her shoulders and then dashed downstairs. Albert was still by the door, with a large puddle of water forming by his feet. Pulling on her coat and a scarf, Ruby kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘Try not to worry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  Bea had a handkerchief to her mouth. ‘Oh, Ruby, that water will be so cold.’

  ‘Don’t give up on him yet,’ Ruby said. ‘And don’t forget, he’s got Percy to help him.’

  Her mother leaned heavily on the banister. ‘Percy was there too?’

  Ruby could have bitten off her tongue. Of course Percy wasn’t there; she had quite forgotten about the events of last night. ‘Oh no,’ she said, remembering something odd that she had seen last night, ‘but we can’t be absolutely sure, can we? He did tell Father he would do one more night.’

  ‘Please God,’ said Bea, ‘Percy wasn’t there.’ Her shoulders drooped and it seemed to Ruby that she’d just aged ten years.

  Ruby swallowed hard. Her mother was no fool; she knew all too well that the weather was really bad. It was a wonder she didn’t say something like, ‘Listen to that wind howling, Ruby. The boat is seaworthy, but your father is not as strong as he used to be …’ But neither of them wanted to put anything into words. It was as if voicing it out loud might make their worst nightmares come true. So Ruby looked at her mother’s anxious face and did what she always did at such times. Lighting her own face with a bright smile, she said, ‘It’ll be fine. You know Father. He’s as tough as old boots.’