Ruby

by Marie Maxwell

  The Wheaton property was equally impressive, with thick wisteria growing up the walls, flowerbeds on each side and a walled garden to the rear. The house itself was L-shaped and stood alone on a corner at the top of the main street behind a high but neatly trimmed hedge. A large black car was parked on the drive near a detached garage, a fat ginger and white cat curled up on the car roof. He opened his eyes, looked at the newcomer and closed them again.

  Talking all the while, Mrs Wheaton led Ruby along a curvy path to a hidden entrance on the side.

  ‘We always use this entrance because the other one is the one the patients use to go into the surgery. I did tell you my husband is a doctor, didn’t I? But there are also doors in the house that lead from one to the other.’ She smiled. ‘Oh, and the cat is called Fred. He’s very gentle and lazy and loves children. Mr Yardley lives in the flat over the garage. He drives the car for the doctor and does all the odd jobs. You’ll meet him later, and we usually have a nurse staying with us. There’s a new one coming next week. She’ll live in the room at the back of the surgery. That’s why we only had room to take in one evacuee. It’s a very busy house and surgery.’

  With a hand placed in the middle of her back, the woman gently pushed a hesitant Ruby through an already open front door into a wide, square lobby with a tiled floor and half-panelled walls. Several dark wood doors led off it and there was an impressive staircase to the side that turned twice on its way to the first floor. Ruby’s first impression was that it was enormous, so enormous she couldn’t imagine sleeping even one night inside without being scared witless.

  ‘I’ll show you your bedroom in a minute, but first I want you to meet my husband. He’ll be through in just a moment.’

  Even as Mrs Wheaton spoke Ruby heard a clunking sound and turned around to see a man in a wheelchair heading across the tiled floor towards them. Ruby was petrified when she saw the man wheeling himself towards her. His head was down and she couldn’t see his expression.

  ‘George darling, this is Ruby Blakeley, the evacuee who’s going to be staying with us. She’s ten years old and from London. She’s also very nervous, understandably. Ruby, this is my husband, Dr Wheaton.’

  ‘Don’t be nervous, Ruby,’ the man said as he stopped his chair in front of her. ‘I’m pleased to meet you. I hope you’ll be happy during your time here; we look forward to having you for as long as you need to be here.’

  The man held his hand out to her and smiled. His face was friendly and his tone soothing but, despite all the niceness, a huge wave of homesickness swept over her and before she could reach out and take the proffered hand she started to cry. Her shoulders moved up and down in time with the huge gasping sobs that she tried desperately to control but couldn’t.

  Mrs Wheaton immediately bent down and pulled the little girl to her; she hugged her tight and, whispering gently, she continued to hold her until the sobs subsided.

  ‘There, I think the worst is over for you now so chin up. I’ll show you your room and then we’ll have dinner and get to know each other.’

  Later that night Ruby lay curled up in her bed and thought about everything that had happened during that long first day. She was exhausted, but although Mrs Wheaton had made her a cup of warm cocoa she couldn’t sleep. Her room was large and her bed was soft and welcoming, but she hated it and wished she was back home in the familiar boxroom, which she had to herself because she was the only girl. She also wished she had been able to bring some of her favourite personal things with her: the three china animal ornaments that had perched on her windowsill for as long as she could remember, the wooden box that contained all manner of secrets and mementoes, the mini-bolster that she liked to cuddle at night; but most of all she wished her mother was there with her.

  When they’d started to gather in the school playground in Walthamstow, Ruby had assumed that all the children were travelling alone, but then she’d realised that some of the mothers had cases with them also.

  ‘Why aren’t you coming, Mum?’ she’d asked tearfully.

  ‘Don’t fuss, Ruby. Only the babies have their mothers with them. You’re a big girl now, you don’t need me with you. Besides, I have to look after the boys.’

  ‘Why aren’t they being evacuated, then? There are big boys here.’ Ruby waved her hand around to make her point.

  ‘You know your dad wouldn’t let them go. Just you, because you’re a girl. Now, no more tears. Look, everyone’s walking; you need to find your place with your friends. I can see Mary Flaherty over there – go and walk with her.’

  ‘Aren’t you even coming to the coach with me?’

  ‘No, I have to get back. I have to get to work or I won’t get paid. You know what Mrs Harrison is like if I’m late. But you write to me as soon as you know your address and I’ll write back. You won’t be away long, I promise!’

  The crocodile of children had started moving slowly, and Ruby took her place, but when she looked around to wave she couldn’t see her mother anywhere in the sea of faces. There were so many children that no one would have noticed that Ruby’s mother had gone, but still her face reddened and her disappointment was physically painful: her mother hadn’t even kissed her goodbye.

  Now she was in a beautiful bedroom that was probably six times the size of her boxroom back home. It was well furnished, with a proper wash-basin in the corner and a large yellow teddy bear with brown button eyes on the end of the bed. It was beautiful and luxurious beyond her imagination, but at that moment all she wanted was to be back at home with her mother in the crowded terraced house with an outside toilet and no bathroom.

  Ruby Blakeley was unhappier than she had ever been in her life. She buried her head under the fluffy pillow and sobbed silently until she was exhausted. Daylight dawned just as she dropped off, and next thing she knew there was a knock on the door.

  ‘Ruby? Are you awake? Breakfast is nearly ready. Ruby?’

  ‘I’m awake.’ Ruby replied cautiously.

  The door opened slightly and Mrs Wheaton put her head around it.

  ‘Then get washed and dressed and come down. I’ll be in the kitchen. Dr Wheaton has an early surgery this morning and then Yardley, the driver, will take him on his rounds so it’s just you and me. I’m looking forward to it.’

  Ruby climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the landing into the bathroom. She’d never been in one quite like it until the night before and was overawed again with the inside lavatory with a shiny metallic chain, and the huge white bath with claw feet and gleaming taps. Even at the age of ten Ruby was worldly enough to take it all in and wonder exactly how rich the Wheatons were to have a house that size.

  As she shyly took her seat at the table in the kitchen Babs Wheaton turned round from the range and put a plate in front of her with a fat rasher of bacon, a fried egg and a thick slice of fried bread. Just looking at it made Ruby feel sick but she knew she had to make an effort. The last thing she wanted to do was upset her host family on the first day.

  ‘Did you get to sleep, Ruby? I heard your bed creaking during the night but I didn’t want to come in and upset you.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ Ruby mumbled as she looked at the plate in front of her. ‘I just feel a bit sick now.’

  ‘Would you sooner have a plain slice of toast? You need something inside you, especially if you feel sick.’

  Babs Wheaton removed the barely touched breakfast plate and replaced it with another that had just a slice of toasted bread with a scrape of butter on it and a glass of milk.

  ‘Is that better? I know this is horrid for you but it will get better once you settle. In fact, today is a settling-in day for all the evacuees so we’ve both got a free day.’ She paused and looked at the child sitting at her table. ‘I think we should go for a walk round the village. I’ll show you the shops and we can look at the church. We might even bump into the vicar and his wife. They also played a big part in arranging this evacuation and finding accommodation for you all.’

 
‘I still feel a bit sick,’ Ruby muttered cautiously, not wanting to go anywhere, least of all to meet the vicar and his wife.

  ‘Then a breath of fresh air will do you good. Mind you, I think most of the children will be feeling sick today. It was a long journey for you all yesterday and you’re all away from home.’

  ‘Do I have to go to school tomorrow if I still feel sick?’ Ruby asked hopefully.

  ‘Oh, I think you’ll be fine by tomorrow and, if not … well, Dr Wheaton will have a look at you. And you won’t be going for the whole day. The school hours have changed because of having to fit in so many extra children; we can check when we get down there this morning.’

  Babs Wheaton’s tone was lightly firm and her smile was kindly, but Ruby knew instinctively there would be no point in arguing with the woman.

  Walking back down the hill through the village, Ruby started to relax. They visited all the shops, and Ruby was impressed that Mrs Wheaton was introducing her as if she was a genuine visitor rather than a child who had simply been dumped on her.

  That evening she was surprised when Mrs Wheaton explained about the evening meal; Ruby hadn’t expected to be included for every meal and a part of her didn’t want to be. The whole situation was far too overwhelming for a ten-year-old away from home for the first time.

  ‘We don’t stand on ceremony at mealtimes but we do expect promptness and good table manners. Now you sit here …’

  Ruby took her seat nervously and sat perfectly still and quiet, with her hands in her lap and her eyes down.

  ‘Now, young Ruby, tell us a little about yourself and your family.’

  Ruby looked up through her eyelashes at the man sitting adjacent to her at the head of the table. Her mouth was dry and the nausea she had felt that morning started to rise again.

  ‘We know your father is away at war and that you have two brothers at home—’

  ‘Three brothers.’

  ‘Ah,’ Dr Wheaton smiled, ‘the lone girl in a family of boys. No wonder you’re so quiet; I doubt you ever get a word in.’

  Both Dr and Mrs Wheaton tried hard to bring her out of herself and into a conversation but she remained mostly silent and scared.

  ‘Would you pass me the gravy, please, Ruby?’ the doctor asked.

  Silently Ruby leaned forward and picked up the glass saucer holding the jug, but her hands were shaking so much she couldn’t hold on to it. As she went to pass it she felt it slip away and land in the middle of the table, splattering the thick hot gravy everywhere, including down Dr Wheaton’s shirt. His wife jumped up from her chair and, with a quickly snatched tea towel, tried to minimise the mess as the doctor wheeled his chair backwards away from the table. But the brown liquid had already made its mark.

  Paralysed with fear, Ruby could only watch the chaos she had caused. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry …’

  As the man moved his wheelchair towards her, so she cowered down in her seat fearfully. She was horrified she could have done such a thing, and terrified of the consequences. In her head she could hear her father’s angry voice, and she could see the whiplash that was his hand as he banged one or other of her brothers around the head for the slightest perceived misdemeanour. A dropped gravy boat would have earned the boys a sound thrashing with his belt and Ruby a banishment by her mother to her room with nothing to eat or drink until the next day.

  ‘Ruby, it’s OK, it’s just gravy. It doesn’t matter,’ Barbara said gently. ‘It was an accident. We have them all the time in this house. I often drop things, and so does my husband. Now let’s get this cleared up and then we’ll start again.’

  Eyes wide, Ruby looked from one to the other. ‘I’m sorry.’

  George Wheaton moved very slowly back beside her. He smiled and then gently ruffled her hair. ‘Promise me you won’t ever be frightened of either of us again, Ruby. Promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  Six

  Walthamstow

  ‘Any letters for me?’ Ruby asked as she closed the front door behind her. It was always the first question she asked the moment she walked into the house. As she slipped off her coat and hung it on the hallstand she looked around hopefully.

  ‘No, and I wish you wouldn’t keep going on about it. I’m not as stupid as you think I am, Ruby. I know you mean letters from the bloody Wheatons and you know how much it gets me and your brother going when you keep asking. It’s finished – all of it. You have to forget it.’

  Head on one side, Ruby stared at her mother. She couldn’t understand her constantly defensive stance towards the Wheatons, a couple who had done nothing wrong by her at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  ‘I can’t forget about it. And anyway, why should it bother Ray? Or you? I lived with them for five years, they looked after me as if I was their own daughter, and I really want to hear from them.’

  ‘Well, they couldn’t have thought that much of you as they haven’t even written. Anyway, you should be pleased you had a real family to come back to. Lots of evacuees ended up in orphanages, you know. Homes were bombed, whole families killed, and that was it. Instant orphans. You’ve got all of us … well, apart from your father.’

  Sarah Blakeley looked over her shoulder at her daughter and they locked eyes. She was kneeling halfway up the stairs, brushing the narrow carpet to within an inch of its life with a brush and dustpan, and Ruby knew the brass stair rods would be next for a vicious attack of Brasso, followed by the polishing of the banister. Every day of the week was marked by different chores and meals, and nothing was ever allowed to interfere with that domestic routine. Sarah’s whole life was run to a meticulous timetable.

  Ruby was convinced that her mother worked herself into the ground, both at home and at work so that she was permanently exhausted and therefore too tired to think about her grindingly monotonous life. Ruby felt for her, but at the same time couldn’t understand why she didn’t do anything about it. Being subservient to a husband was to be expected, but to answer in this way to a son was something else entirely and, as far as Ruby was concerned, not what her mother should accept.

  ‘Yes I know, Mum, and I am grateful you’re all alive and the house is still standing,’ Ruby continued, trying but failing to keep her tone reasoned, ‘but just because I have family here doesn’t mean I can’t have a second family there. They were good to me and you should be pleased.’ Her voice got stronger along with her frustration. ‘A lot of evacuees were treated like skivvies. I heard about one who only ever slept in a barn, even in winter, and he wasn’t allowed to go to school, and he had to work all day on the farm to earn a meal.’

  ‘Don’t you shout at me. And grateful?’ Sarah laughed drily. ‘To them? I should be grateful that they tried to keep my only daughter? It was only because of Ray going up there that they let you come home at all. Just because they couldn’t have their own they wanted to keep you to look after the crippled doctor in his dotage. They’ve ruined you, given you ideas above your station so you won’t settle back here. They did it deliberately.’

  Ruby knew her mother was repeating Ray’s words and that it was pointless to argue, but she couldn’t help it.

  ‘That’s not true, you know it isn’t. It’s just what Ray says …’

  ‘It is true, Ruby, it is! Me and Ray both met them, don’t forget. Both of them pretending to care but looking down on us all the while. Now stop keep going on about them and how wonderful they are. I mean, how come they’ve no kids of their own, him being a doctor an’ all? Unless he’s not a real man down there.’

  Ruby was near to tears at the injustice of it all, but still she wouldn’t back down.

  ‘Why are you so horrible about them, Mum? They did their best for me and they still want to, I know they do. I could have a career, I could have—’

  ‘Shut up, Ruby. Just shut up, shut up, shut up!’ Sarah stood up. She stepped down the stairs and looked at her daughter, and Ruby could see the tears of anger in her eyes.

  ‘I do
n’t understand …’

  ‘That’s because you don’t want to.’

  Ruby paused when she saw what looked like genuine hurt on her mother’s face. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. Just forget I said anything!’

  Ruby stopped arguing. She could see that her mother would always follow Ray’s lead and support his opinions. It puzzled her that her own mother didn’t want the best possible for her, but she could also see there was no point in arguing about it.

  But she was worried. She’d heard nothing from the Wheatons since their first letter and she couldn’t understand how they could have forgotten about her so quickly. She’d written to them several times telling them how she felt, how she wanted to go back but wasn’t allowed. She had opened up her heart and they hadn’t responded, making her wonder if something was amiss.

  Because her mother allowed Ray to have the upper hand in the household, Ruby’s life was becoming increasingly unbearable. In fact, it was becoming the same as her mother’s: a grind of mind-numbing domesticity. Her hopes of escape were pinned on her grandmother’s support and the hope that the Wheatons still wanted her to live there.

  She grabbed her coat again. ‘I’m going to the phone box. I’m going to telephone them. They wouldn’t have forgotten my birthday last week, I know they wouldn’t. Something must be wrong …’

  ‘Don’t you dare go running off, Ruby. You come back here this minute! Don’t you dare phone them. I’ll send Ray after you …’ her mother shouted after her as she slipped out of the front door without closing it, but Ruby took off down the road regardless.

  She had no idea where she was going until she was halfway down the street and saw the open gate. On the spur of the moment she swerved in and cautiously knocked on the front door.

  ‘Well, if it isn’t Ruby Red!’ Johnnie Riordan smiled as he opened the front door and saw her standing nervously on the step. ‘Long time no see, missy. I thought you might have done a runner. What’s up? You look upset.’