* * *
‘I want to talk to you, Bernard.’
Bernard lowered his newspaper and looked at his wife, his eyebrows lifting at the sight of her flushed face, a sure sign that she was in one of her rare tempers. Folding the paper carefully, he laid it on his lap, wondering what had happened to cause her evident anger. ‘I expected you back sooner than this,’ he said mildly. ‘I suppose you’ve been comforting Ruby. She must be feeling very upset at losing the old girl and…’
He jumped in surprise as she stormed towards him, saying loudly, ‘How on earth would you know how Ruby’s feeling? You haven’t seen her for nine years, yet you talk about her as if she’s just walked out of the room.’
Daisy stared at him for a long moment, then, turning on her heel, she whirled away from his startled gaze only to stop suddenly and face him again, her face set, as she determined to say what she should have said years ago. ‘I was going to add that people change, but they don’t, not really, not deep down where it matters most. Here you all are, you, Bertie and Ruby, all longing to see an end to this stupid feud, but not one of you willing to be the first to say that one simple word, “Sorry”. God, but it makes me so angry! You should have gone after them that day, Bernard, but no, you were so sure they’d come back to you cap in hand, begging forgiveness, that you were content to sit back and wait, but it didn’t happen like that, did it? And it never is going to happen like that because both Bertie and Ruby have too much of you in them to swallow their pride and admit that they were wrong. And why should they? You’re the one who threw them out in a fit of temper, so it’s up to you to shoulder the responsibility for the whole sorry business.’
Bernard tensed as he listened to Daisy’s words. Throwing the paper on the floor, he stood up quickly, and his anger matching hers, replied harshly, ‘What’s got into you? You come back here after being absent for the best part of the day and immediately start berating me for something that happened years ago! What do you expect me to do, eh? Run out into the street and hail the first cab I see and make my way to Ruby’s home and beg her to forgive me for being such a dreadful father? Or would you prefer I went to Bertie first?’ he sneered.
Daisy’s eyes bored into his until he was forced to drop his gaze. ‘You can bluster all you like, Bernard, but you know that what I’ve said is true. Unless you’re prepared to climb down and admit that you are in the wrong, you may never see either of your children again.’ Her anger had given way to pity at the sight of the conflicting emotions passing over Bernard’s flushed face, but there was nothing she could do to help him. Walking towards the door, she turned her head and said sadly, ‘You spent many unhappy years because of your father’s neglect and indifference. Don’t you think it’s ironic that you should end up doing the same to your own children?’
Bernard watched in silence as she went out, the words he wanted to say in retaliation dying in his throat. Slowly he returned to his chair and, picking up the fallen paper, he spread it on his lap, then stared down unseeingly at it.
* * *
It was a sheepish Michael who emerged from the bedroom the following morning. His eyes downcast, he sidled past the table where Ruby and the children were having breakfast and made his way to the scullery. Ten minutes later, washed and looking a bit more presentable, he came back into the room, a look of contrition on his face. ‘Morning, darlin’,’ he said hopefully.
‘Get down from the table, children, and go and play in the garden until I call you,’ Ruby told the two forlorn figures on either side of her. Without a murmur they clambered down, and, Danny taking Florrie’s hand, walked slowly out.
When the door had shut behind them, Ruby turned to Michael. ‘So, you’ve finally surfaced,’ she said coolly. ‘Will you be wanting any breakfast? You don’t normally, after a night out with your friends.’
‘Ah, now, darlin’, don’t start,’ Michael implored, his hand to his forehead, trying to elicit some sympathy, but his gesture was wasted. Looking into her cold blue eyes, he pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. Still playing for time, he put his head in his hands, saying wearily, ‘It’s heart-sorry I am about the way I behaved last night. I was upset. When we got back from the funeral, I felt so down, I had to get out of the house. I never realised how fond I was of the auld girl until I saw her being lowered into the grave, and…’ He winced as Ruby scraped her chair back.
‘Don’t you dare give Mabel as an excuse to get drunk!’ she shouted. ‘You’ve never needed one before, and while we’re on the subject of Mabel, I hope you didn’t spend all the money she left you. I only got a hundred more than you did, and we’re going to need every penny – unless of course you already have another job lined up.’
Michael stared up at her, his mouth agape. ‘What are you saying? She must have left you more than that! She always said she’d leave you well provided for.’
Ruby glared back. The confrontation she’d been dreading was being made easier by her anger at his stunned expression. ‘Well, she must have thought that £500 between the pair of us was provision enough. And now I’ll leave you to look after the children. I still work at the house, and I have a lot to see to.’
As she made to pass, he grabbed her arm. ‘Just a minute! You can’t drop a bombshell like that in me lap and just walk away! We need to talk. This changes everything… I had plans… I had it all worked out…’
‘Let go of my arm, Michael, you’re hurting me.’
The icy tone of her voice made him release his grip, then, bunching his hands into fists, he banged on the table. ‘The mean auld bitch!’ he muttered furiously. ‘She must have had thousands tucked away, and all we got was a measly £500 between us. Jasus, she must have had a good laugh at our expense, and after all we did for her, the spiteful auld…’
‘That’s enough, Michael! I won’t listen to another word. Mabel was my friend, a kind dear friend, and what’s all this about “all we did for her”? You never did anything except to suck up to her, waiting for her to die. But she saw through you, Michael! Oh, yes, she might have been old, but she wasn’t stupid!’
He got to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor. ‘Don’t you ever talk to me like that again!’ he roared, his face red with outrage. ‘I’ve never sucked up to anyone in me life! And as for you… Well, ye can forget about buying our own house; we’ll rent somewhere when we leave here. As you’ve pointed out, we’re going to need every penny, and I’m not going to waste any of it on a bloody house! Do you hear me, woman?’
Ruby lifted her chin high and said calmly, ‘There you are mistaken, Michael. I’m not taking the children into some slum just so that you can have more drinking money in your pocket. If needs be, I’ll buy a house out of my own money; I have enough. And I’ll find another post to support us if you won’t. But, if I do, I’ll go alone. I’ll work to support my children, but not you.’
Michael tried to control the workings of his face, and then began to laugh. ‘Ah, that’s rich, darlin’! And what do you intend to do? Will you tell me that? You’ve had it soft here… it’ll be different elsewhere. And there’s not that many places that’ll hire one-legged help.’
When her hand came up, he grabbed at it, and pulling her close to him, added, ‘Aye, the truth hurts, doesn’t it? Well, remember that little fact when you think back to what you’ve said to me this day.’
Wrenching her hand away, she yelled, ‘You cruel bugger! Well, let me tell you, Michael O’Brien, I can achieve more with one leg than you ever could with two. I’ll show you I can manage with or without you… it’s your choice.’ She continued to glare at him, panting, and when she got no response, the thought that had been whirling in her mind all night burst from her stiff lips. ‘And I’m going to see my father. Tomorrow, if possible. It’s-It’s time the rift… was healed, so don’t— don’t try to stop me. I’m going… whether you like it or…’
She got no further before he grasped her arm again and once more was leaning over her, muttering, ‘Begod you’r
e not! You made your choice nine years ago when you married me. I’ll not have you running back to him now, so you can put that idea out of your head!’
She could feel his hot breath fanning her face and turned her head away, but not before she’d seen through the bluster to the uncertainty in his wide eyes. She felt his grip on her arm loosen, and still not looking at him, said, ‘You can’t stop me, Michael, and don’t even think of trying. You’ll only come out the loser.’ She limped quickly to the door and slammed out of the lodge.
Michael stared at the closed door for a long time, then, picking up the fallen chair, he sank into it wearily. God, he hadn’t meant to say those things to her! What had possessed him? Yet even as he asked himself the question his mind shouted back, ‘Face it man, you were banking on the auld girl’s fondness of Ruby to enable you to set yerself up for life. But what’s more, you wanted to show that toffee-nosed family of hers that you were a man to be reckoned with.’ That’s what was hurting him most, the realisation that without the thousands he’d been hoping for, he could never be on an equal footing with his father-in-law. He passed a hand over his bleary eyes. And now she was going back, back to the house he had been barred from. He knew that, despite his words, she would do as she liked, and he also knew that he didn’t have the strength of character to stop her. In many ways she was stronger than him, and it was this knowledge that had always made him feel inferior to her, and always would. What had she said to him? ‘I can achieve more with one leg than you ever could with two!’
Suddenly he felt very alone, and very afraid.
* * *
Ruby strode purposefully up the garden path, the metal tip on her leg tapping out a staccato on the flagstones. Pausing outside the kitchen door, she waited until her breathing had returned to normal before opening it. The familiar sight of Mrs Rodgers on her knees blackleading the stove brought her back to a sense of normality.
‘Why, Ruby, I didn’t expect you to come over today,’ the old lady said in surprise. ‘Sir Charles came in here last night after you’d gone and told us you’d be having a few days’ rest.’
‘Well, he didn’t say anything to me, so I’d best carry on working until I’m told differently,’ Ruby replied lightly, then, looking round the empty kitchen, she asked, ‘Where is everyone? I thought I’d find you all in here making plans for the future.’
Mrs Rodgers sat back on her heels, her sharp eyes taking in the puffiness of Ruby’s eyes and the high colour in her cheeks, and thought, ‘I bet there’s been high jinks over in the lodge this morning!’ Although Ruby hadn’t told them anything last night, the solicitor, Mr Cox, had stopped off in the kitchen for a cup of tea on his way home, and with a little prompting had informed them of the small legacy Lady Caldworthy’s former companion had received. Mrs Rodgers wouldn’t have liked the job of telling Michael, because, as they all knew, he had been expecting much, much more. Wiping her hands carefully, she answered, ‘Mr Masters is upstairs with Sir Charles, and Rosie and Agnes have gone into town to get some groceries. It’s not worth having them delivered any more, not with things as they are at the moment. I thought it better to buy from day to day until Sir Charles decides exactly when he’s going to close up the house. I hope I did right?’ she added anxiously.
‘Yes, of course. I should have thought of it myself,’ Ruby hastened to reassure her.
Mrs Rodgers’s homely face broke into a warm smile. ‘Oh, Ruby, you’ve had more than enough to think about without worrying over trivial matters like food and drink! I don’t know how you managed it all, really I don’t. What with looking after her ladyship these past few weeks when she was really bad, and then arranging the funeral, not to mention taking care of the children… you must be worn out. And I’d like to bet you haven’t had a decent meal for weeks, have you?’
Shaking her head, Ruby replied, ‘I haven’t felt hungry, Mrs Rodgers. And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go over what has to be done in the house before we all leave.’
Heaving herself to her feet, Mrs Rodgers put down the blackened cloth and starting to wash her hands, said over her shoulder, ‘There’s not much left to do, Ruby. We only finished spring cleaning last month, don’t you remember? It was just before her ladyship got taken bad.’
Ruby didn’t answer, but merely stared down numbly.
Spring cleaning, that time of year that everyone in the house both loved and hated. Curtains and covers were taken down and washed, the carpets pulled up and carried out into the garden, where the winter dirt and grime were beaten out with wicker carpet-beaters. Then the furniture was draped with dust-sheets, while the house was cleaned from attic to cellar. When the cleaning was completed, everything was put back into place, leaving the entire house smelling of beeswax and soap. It was back-breaking work, but when it was finished there remained the satisfied feeling of a job well done. And now it really was over, for never again would she supervise and assist in the yearly ritual of this house. Ruby felt the first droplets of tears splash onto her hands, and leaning over the table, she rested her head on her arms, and wept.
‘Oh, Ruby! I know, love, I know!’ Mrs Rodgers was standing by her, her heavy hand stroking her long auburn hair, and Ruby, with a heart-rending cry, turned and buried her face against the warm fat body of the motherly woman at her side. ‘I miss her, Mrs Rodgers! I can’t believe she’s dead.’ The words seemed to be torn from her aching throat. ‘I loved her, you know. I really loved her.’ She felt the body she was clutching at begin to tremble, and tightened her hold.
Sir Charles stood quietly in the doorway, his eyes taking the scene in, then without a word he walked away, leaving the two women alone with their grief.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘I’m afraid it’ll take a bit of time to get to Brixton, missus. Most I people are coming ’ome from work this time of day. You in a ’urry?’ the cabbie shouted through the top of the horse-drawn carriage.
Ruby looked up at the cheerful ruddy face and replied, ‘No, no hurry. My time is my own.’
‘Right you are, missus.’
Sinking back on the blue leather seat, Ruby faced the two small figures and smiled reassuringly at them. ‘Cheer up, you two, there’s no need to look so glum! We’re going to see Nan and Aunt Lily. I thought you’d both be pleased of a day out.’
Danny peered at her from beneath his straw boater, his face sullen. ‘What about “him”?’
Ruby’s hands tightened in her lap, then, her face set, she answered, ‘If you mean your grandfather, then say so. And yes, he will be there too.’ When she received no response, she leaned over and took his small hand, saying, ‘Listen, Danny, there’s no need to be frightened. We’ll just stay for an hour or so, and then we’ll go home.’
‘But what if Grandad doesn’t like us, Mum? I wish Dad was with us. Why didn’t Dad come? Is it because he doesn’t like Grandad?’
Ruby gently squeezed his hand, wondering just how much he had overheard of the argument she had had with Michael that morning. The night before, for the first time in their married life he had slept on the settee, and the moment she had emerged from the bedroom he had started in on her again, rehashing the argument from the previous day. He had seemed more concerned about the visit to her parents than about the money, and had tried to prevent her from leaving the lodge with the children. First he had pleaded and cajoled, and when that hadn’t worked, he had stormed off into the garden, muttering furiously.
‘Look, Mummy, a monkey! Can we go and see it?’ Florrie cried excitedly, at the sight of the organ-grinder and his pet monkey on the pavement.
Ruby looked affectionately at her daughter and then past her to the sight outside the window. The street was packed with stalls, the people milling around the pavement and into the road, causing problems for the many cabs and carriages that were trying to make their way through the seething throng. Following Florrie’s pointing finger, she looked at the man holding the gaudily dressed monkey by a chain, while his other hand wound a w
ooden handle that produced a tinny musical sound. All around was noise and a sense of vitality, and although the sights and sounds were distracting Florrie, they seemed to be having little effect on her son. ‘Not now, dear,’ she admonished gently before returning her attention to him. There was a miserable, frightened look in his eyes, and she swallowed nervously. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to bring them with her; neither was it fair to use them as a barrier against her father, but she couldn’t face the thought of going to the house alone. She chose her next words carefully.
‘Your dad has never met your grandfather. They— They had a row a long time ago, and now I’m going to try and make it up with him. Do you understand, Danny?’
The blue eyes so like Michael’s stared back at her, a well of tears forming on his black eyelashes. ‘Oh, don’t, Danny! You’ll upset Florrie. Now come on, son, we won’t stay long, I promise.’
Half an hour later they were standing on the doorstep, Ruby’s hand hovering uncertainly over the brass knocker. Taking a deep breath, she quickly rapped twice on the door, then stepped back in sudden fright, grasping the children’s hands.
When the door swung open to reveal a startled Lily, she smiled at her old friend and said, ‘Well, are you going to let us in, Lily? Or do we have to go round to the tradesmen’s entrance?’
‘Ruby, what are you doing here?’ Lily faltered, looking over her shoulder as though fearing some unknown force would descend upon them.
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