Ruby Chadwick

by Ruby Chadwick (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’m glad you think that way, Mrs Chadwick,’ she said, more calmly.

  Daisy, however, was quick to detect a note of triumph in her tone, and couldn’t resist adding, ‘I’m sure that even a woman of your experience would find it impossible to impart any knowledge to a girl of Lily’s intelligence.’ Smiling gently at the governess’s startled face, she swept past her into Ruby’s room.

  At the scene that met her eyes, the carefully planned speech she had rehearsed died on her lips. There in Ruby’s bed, lying between clean sheets, lay Lily, her face scrubbed clean, wearing one of her own nightdresses, the shining blonde hair lying in plaits over her chest, her eyes firmly closed as she slept her first carefree sleep in a long time. Beside her sat Ruby, keeping watch over her new maid.

  As she made to creep away, Lily’s eyes opened and, pulling herself upright, she called out softly, ‘Thank you, Mrs Chadwick. Thank you ever so much, you’ve saved my life!’

  Daisy blinked as she heard the trembling words, then said firmly, ‘Don’t talk nonsense, Lily! You are being over-dramatic. You’ve been ill, so you may rest until you feel well enough to take up your duties. You are here to look after Miss Ruby. Do you think you will be able to manage that task?’ She heard the sharpness of her own voice, and relaxed her face into a smile, the effect taking the sting from her words.

  Weakly stretching out her arm, Lily clasped Ruby’s hand in hers and, looking at her new charge, said fiercely, ‘Oh, yes, Mrs Chadwick, I’ll look after Ruby. I mean… Miss Ruby. I’ll never leave her unless she wants me to. And I’ll learn to speak proper so you won’t be ashamed of me. I can if I want to, honest!’

  Daisy looked at the earnest face and felt a lump come to her throat. In an effort to hide her emotion, she turned her attention to Ruby, and was met with the same look of gratitude.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ Ruby said, smiling broadly, her eyes alight with her new-found interest.

  Not trusting herself to speak, Daisy merely nodded and backed from the room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment. She hadn’t seen Ruby look so animated in a long time. It was as though new life had been breathed into her, and if that were true, all the fears and discomfort she had suffered that day would have been worth it.

  Walking slowly back to her own room, she reflected on what Lily had said about never leaving Ruby. Of course the poor girl was feeling grateful now – who in her position wouldn’t? But once she had recovered her strength and saved a bit of money, she would in all probability become bored and leave to find a position more suited to her natural temperament.

  But only time would tell. She would have to wait and see what the future held.

  PART TWO

  1895–1906

  Chapter Eleven

  The sound of a door closing brought Ruby out of an uneasy sleep. Forcing her eyes open, she listened intently for any other noises to explain what had disturbed her, but the house remained silent. Peering at her bedside clock, she could just make out the time from the watery grey light that was seeping through her open window – five o’clock. That could only mean that the noise must have been made by Bertie returning from his night shift. Hitching herself up on her pillow to prevent herself from falling back to sleep, she yawned loudly as she waited for her brother to pass her door. Minutes passed, and her eyelids began to droop, so she sat up straighter, opening her eyes as wide as she could manage. For her, this was the best time of the day when Bertie worked the night shift. He would always knock softly to see if she was awake before coming in, his face tired but animated as he told her about the evening he had had. Sometimes there was nothing much to tell, but Bertie could make even the most trivial incident sound exciting. When ten minutes had passed with no sign of him, she gave a sigh of disappointment and snuggled back into the warm bed. Maybe he had gone into the kitchen to make himself something to eat; he was always starving whenever he came off duty. But still, she told herself rebelliously, he could have forgone his hunger today of all days. He couldn’t have forgotten her birthday, could he? Not Bertie!

  Suddenly wide awake, she sat up again, all thought of sleep banished as she contemplated what the day had in store for her. There would be a party, of course, a dull affair as they usually were, but still a party, nevertheless. Dr Benson and his wife would attend, as they had done every year since they’d moved into this house, and then there would be a few of her dad’s friends and their wives to make up the numbers. The tables in the drawing room would be groaning under the weight of the food Cook would have spent all day preparing, most of which would end up back in the kitchen for the staff to enjoy at the end of the evening. She would put on her new dress and smile brightly for the guests, who in their turn would tell each other how marvellous it was that a girl of her tender years could be so brave in the face of such a terrible handicap. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, Ruby tried to banish the depressing picture from her mind.

  Ever since the accident all those years ago she had had to endure such gatherings, and for her parents’ sakes she had bitten her tongue many a time to stop herself from screaming at the stupid insensitive people who tended to treat her as a curiosity, rather than as a person in her own right. Dr Benson and his wife were the only people outside her immediate family that she had any time for, and it was these two whom she planned to waylay that night to try to enlist their help in persuading her dad to let her find employment. For a moment her courage wavered as she imagined his reaction when she informed him of her intentions, but she must do something; she couldn’t remain forever tied to her family’s side. They had protected and cosseted her for nearly eight years and she was grateful, but lately she had begun to feel stifled, trapped as surely as if she were imprisoned in a cage. Some young women in her position would probably relish such a sense of security and be content to spend the rest of their days safely cocooned in the bosom of their family, but Ruby wasn’t made that way. Her character was too strong for her to remain dependent on others, no matter how good their intentions or how much she loved them. She had no idea as to how she would accomplish her independence, but that didn’t worry her overmuch; there was always a way. She firmly believed that if you wanted something badly enough and were prepared to fight for it, any obstacle could be overcome.

  Reassured, she settled herself down in the bed once more, as she had a long day ahead and, more important, a battle to win. Wondering vaguely why Bertie hadn’t knocked on her door, she gave an impatient shrug followed by an enormous yawn before closing her eyes. She would no doubt find out later. Maybe he was too tired to talk this morning, or maybe… All thoughts were cut off as sleep finally overcame her.

  * * *

  Holding a glass of milk in one hand and a large sandwich in the other, Bertie crept silently past Ruby’s bedroom, careful to avoid the loose floorboard that always emitted a loud creak when stepped on. Normally there was nothing he enjoyed more than to talk to his sister in the early hours of the morning, when, despite his numbing tiredness, the desire to talk about his work overcame the need to get some much-needed sleep, but not tonight. Safely inside his room, he put his breakfast down on the round polished table that stood by his bed and began to undress. Wearily he took off his heavy serge jacket, making a mental note to polish the silver buttons before he went back on duty. When he was fully undressed, he laid the navy uniform he was so proud of over the wicker chair alongside the tall round police helmet. Then, sitting down on his bed, he held his head in his hands as he tried to keep back the tears that had been threatening ever since he had found the small body several hours earlier, but the effort to keep his emotions in check proved futile. Slowly the tears began to fall, bringing with them some small measure of relief from the tension that had been tearing at his body. Filled with shame at his weakness, he got unsteadily to his feet while wiping a hand angrily across his red-rimmed eyes. Stop it! he told himself savagely. Pull yourself together, man! You’re a police officer – you can’t fall to pieces every time you
see a dead body.

  Pacing the carpeted floor, he tried to put the picture that had been tormenting him from his mind, but to no avail. Walking over to the window, he cooled his head against the glass, and as if looking into a mirror, he saw again the tiny blue body of the baby he had found lying in a shop doorway as he had made his rounds. He wouldn’t have noticed it but for the two stray cats sitting beside it pulling at the dirty piece of blanket that partly covered the naked body. He had put the tiny scrap of humanity inside his jacket, in the vain hope that if he could get some warmth into the child he could bring it back to life. Then, running as if his own life depended on it, he had arrived back at the police station breathless and agitated to be met by the scathing comments of his desk sergeant.

  Red-faced with humiliation, he had stood silent while the sergeant had berated him for reacting like a young schoolboy to a sight which, although tragic, was no excuse to forget his position as an officer of the law. These things happened all the time: young girls got themselves pregnant, women, already burdened with too many mouths to feed, often abandoned their babies in the side streets and alleys. Only last week two newborn infants had been fished out of the river. Bertie had listened to the tirade, not trusting himself to speak, and now at home in his warm comfortable room a world away from the streets he had just left, he wondered bitterly if he was cut out for the job he had dreamed about since a young boy. More to the point, was it worth it? To say that his father had been disappointed in his choice of profession would be an understatement.

  When, two years earlier, he had informed Bernard of his intention to join the police force, his father had at first tried to talk him out of the idea, thinking it just a whim on the part of a young impressionable man, but when he had finally realised that Bertie was deadly serious, he had been furious. He had reminded him of the expensive education he had paid for him and George, an education that would be wasted as a lowly police constable, and the people he would be forced to mix with. Bertie had fought back, telling his father that he wouldn’t always be a constable; he meant to rise in the ranks and would make good use of his education to achieve that goal. The argument had raged for hours until finally Bernard had stormed from the room, shouting that he would give him six months to come to his senses, and if at the end of that time he still refused to change his mind, he could find somewhere else to live. At the end of the allotted time, when Bertie showed no signs of leaving the constabulary, Bernard had relented on condition that he change out of uniform as soon as he entered the house, preferably by the back entrance.

  Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Bertie walked back to his bed. The fact that his father was ashamed of the job that he himself loved was deeply upsetting, and he had only been allowed to remain at home through the tearful intervention of his mother. He had been more than willing to leave and find lodgings, for at that time the atmosphere in the house had been unbearable. Now, nearly two years on, the tension had eased somewhat, although his father still insisted that he should on no account wear uniform in the house for fear of his friends seeing his eldest son dressed in such a lowly garb. His mother, bless her, after the initial shock, had given him her blessing, but he knew she suffered agonies every time he went out of the house, fearing that some dreadful fate would befall him as he walked the crime-ravaged streets of the East End.

  George, at the tender age of 16, had taken his place working alongside his father in the salubrious stockbroker building in the city. Bertie knew that George had no love for the daily business of buying stocks and shares, finding it dull in the extreme, but George had always been complacent as a child, and the years hadn’t changed him. He still wanted to please everyone, to be everyone’s friend, and to achieve that purpose he would always take the line of least resistance. Whether he was happy with his life, none of the family could ever really tell, for George always kept his feelings close to his chest, preferring to say and do what people expected of him rather than what he wanted for himself.

  Picking up the sandwich, Bertie looked at it for a moment before returning it to the plate in disgust. He was no longer hungry; all he wanted to do now was to sleep, to banish the picture of the tiny blue body from his mind. If only he could go to his father, to talk to him about his work, to be able to unburden himself and so relieve the tension that seemed to be tearing at his very soul. But that luxury would always be denied him. Not only was he forbidden to wear his uniform proudly, he was also under strict instructions never on any account to talk about his work in the presence of the family. Only Ruby was interested in his job, and when they were alone, she would ask, no demand, to be told all about the people he met in the line of duty.

  As she came to mind, he opened his heavy eyes briefly. God, it was her 18th birthday today, and he would bet all the money he had in his pockets that she had been waiting for him to come to her room. Again he felt the prickle of tears start to form behind his closed eyelids. Poor Ruby, stuck here in this house all day, never venturing further than the shops in the West End, and then by private carriage, always accompanied by either his mother or Lily. She never complained, but Bertie knew what agonies of mind she must be suffering to have to live a life full of restrictions. His beautiful little sister who had loved nothing more than to run and jump, play leap-frog and rounders, who had been forever getting into mischief and loving every minute of it, her blue eyes always sparkling with laughter. He was sure that she had come to terms with her disability, but it was difficult to know for certain as she rarely spoke about it. She had worked hard over the years to manage her false leg, and was now so adept at walking that no one would ever know of its existence. She limped, of course, that was only to be expected, and some days were worse than others, but at least the need to be measured and fitted periodically for a new leg was no longer there, as she would be unlikely to grow any more now.

  He hoped she wasn’t waiting for him to visit her – he couldn’t face anyone at the moment, and he would never be able to tell her about the baby, that horror was something he would have to bear alone. He was thankful that he had two days’ leave, for he was in no hurry to return to the station and face his sergeant. He was still feeling ashamed and humiliated at the way he had behaved but, being the man he was, he couldn’t have reacted in any other way. How the sergeant could remain unmoved at the sight of such a pathetic scrap of humanity was beyond him. He could hear him now, bellowing at him, as he’d stood mutely with the baby still cuddled close to his chest.

  ‘You’d better toughen up, Chadwick! You’ll get used to it, and a sight worse, before you’re much older. Now clear off home. You’re no good to me in the state you’re in.’ The words echoed in Bertie’s brain as he silently punched his pillow. He’d never get used to it, never. And if the day ever came when he could be as hard faced as his sergeant, he would give up the job, but until then he would struggle on the best he could. Giving his pillow one final punch he settled himself down in the bed, but it was a long time before he finally succumbed to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Oh, you look lovely, Miss Ruby! That colour blue really suits you,’ Lily said happily as she piled the long chestnut hair on top of Ruby’s head.

  Ruby smiled back faintly as she inspected her reflection in the ornate dressing table mirror. Yes, she had to agree she did look nice, but to what purpose? No one was going to see her – that was, no one who would really appreciate her in the way she craved to be noticed. When Lily had finished her hair and stood back to get a better look at the whole effect, Ruby leaned forward, her elbows resting on the dressing table, her face cupped in her hands as she stared at herself in the mirror. She saw a young woman clothed in an expensive dress of midnight blue, the top of which was cut decorously to cover her breasts but left the wide expanse of her neck and throat bare, framing perfectly the diamond necklace she had received from her father for her birthday. She fingered it nervously and then moved her hand to the matching earrings that hung heavily from her lobes. The set had belonged to her gra
ndmother, and had escaped her Uncle David’s clutches only by chance. At the time he had been busily collecting as many valuables as he could while he could, but these had been safely stored in a vault at her grandfather’s bank to await re-evaluation. She had protested strongly that the precious jewels should be given to her mother, but Daisy had smiled and said they would look much better on a younger neck, and besides, they had been saving them for her for years. The pride and happiness on her parents’ faces had stopped any further protests she might have made, but why did she feel so uncomfortable about taking the expensive presents they insisted on showering upon her? Suddenly, inexplicably, she began to shake, and rose clumsily to her feet.

  ‘What’s wrong, Miss Ruby? Don’t you feel well?’ Lily asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine, Lily, don’t worry yourself. I’m just excited about my birthday, I suppose.’ She saw the doubtful look that passed over Lily’s face. ‘As a matter of fact, I do feel a little faint, it must be this dreadful corset you’ve strapped me into. I’m not used to being so restricted. Now I know why Mother refuses to wear one except on special occasions.’ But the words were spoken quickly, too quickly to hold any real conviction.

  Lily looked down at the bowed head of the girl she had looked after for nearly eight years and felt a pang of apprehension. The blatant lie about the corset was merely an excuse to fob off any probing questions, but Lily wasn’t going to be put off. Walking quickly across the room, she made sure the door was closed before returning to Ruby’s side, and then in a clear voice she asked firmly, ‘What’s the matter, Miss Ruby? And don’t give me that old flannel about your corset being too tight. It’s not the first time you’ve worn one, so don’t try to con me. I know you too well!’

  Ruby looked up into the face of her dearest friend and wondered how she could explain something she herself didn’t understand. Swallowing twice, she wetted her lips, then, her voice low and soft, she said, ‘I don’t belong here, Lily. Not in this house, in these fancy clothes and especially not decked out in diamonds. It’s hard to explain, but I feel out of place, somehow.’ Raising her eyes to Lily’s, she ended simply, ‘I belong in the East End, among the people I grew up with. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I always have. I thought I’d get used to living this life, but the older I get the more uncomfortable I am. Bertie feels the same way; that’s why he does the job he does. I know it’s difficult for you to understand as I don’t really understand it myself. The only thing I’m sure of is that if I live to be a hundred I’ll never be comfortable living in the lap of luxury, and neither will Bertie. He stays only because of Mother… and me, of course. If it weren’t for us, he’d have left years ago. George is the only one who has settled into his new life; maybe because he’s younger than Bertie and me. Oh, I don’t know. I only know I can’t stay here much longer. I have to be free to make my own way in life.’