Love Walked Right In

by Pam Weaver

  Her father reached across the table and grasped her hand. ‘And we love being with you too, my dear.’

  ‘How’s the guest house?’ her mother asked. ‘Are you getting many bookings?’

  ‘It’s a bit slow at the moment,’ Ruby admitted, ‘but in the summer months we’ve got a full house. I’ve even had to turn some people away.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Rex observed.

  ‘They’ll only be next door,’ Ruby laughed. ‘I’ve sent them to Mrs McCoody’s. She’ll look after them, I’m sure.’

  Rachel came back from the scullery, where she’d been changing the baby’s nappy, and they watched her putting little Alma back in her carrycot. May covered her up adoringly.

  ‘Did May tell you she’s enrolled in a ballet class?’ said Bea, suddenly breaking the spell.

  ‘Ballet!’ cried Ruby. ‘I didn’t know you liked dancing.’

  ‘Oh, but I do,’ said May. ‘And Miss Beech says I’m not too bad.’

  Ruby suppressed a smile. Whatever would Nelson have made of this? His little princess doing ballet.

  ‘Do you have to wear proper ballet shoes?’ asked Rachel.

  May nodded. ‘And a tutu.’

  ‘Can we come and watch you?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘They’ll be doing a show at the end of the summer term,’ said Bea. ‘I’ll make sure you get an invitation. It’s to raise funds for the sick and destitute.’

  ‘A worthy cause,’ said Percy, lighting up a cigarette. He took a long drag. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could do with a brisk walk along the sea front, to blow the cobwebs away. Anybody feel like coming?’

  The idea was greeted with great enthusiasm. ‘We’ll help Ruby stack the dishes first,’ said Bea. ‘It’s not fair to leave her with all the work.’

  Ruby protested, but her mother waved her away. The three women made light work of clearing the table and putting the leftover food in the meat safe and the pantry. Rachel emptied the teapot into the slop bucket under the sink, while Ruby rinsed an empty milk bottle and opened the back door to put it on the step for the milkman to take, when he called in the morning. As she put it down, she heard the sound of falling bottles and looked up sharply. The back doors of the two neighbouring houses faced each other, and Biscuit had knocked over all the milk bottles on Mrs McCoody’s doorstep. The brown cardboard tops had come off and the little cat was greedily lapping the milk, which had run all along the path. Suddenly Ruby froze.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ said Rachel, coming up behind her.

  ‘Oh, dear God!’ said Ruby, her voice breathy and anxious.

  Bea had come to join them too.

  ‘The cat has knocked over the milk,’ said Rachel with a chuckle. ‘So what?’

  ‘Not just one bottle,’ said Bea. ‘It looks like she’s knocked over all of them.’ She put her hand to her mouth as realization dawned. ‘Oh dear . . .’

  ‘What?’ said Rachel.

  ‘Mrs McCoody has a pint of milk a day,’ said Ruby quietly. The colour had drained from her face.

  ‘Well, there’s four there now, and all the tops have come off,’ said Bea. ‘One has spilled all over the drive, but the other two—’

  ‘Are completely solid,’ said Ruby. She looked at her sister-in-law. ‘If this was summer, you would expect milk left outside in the heat to turn fairly quickly, but it’s March. It’s not even warm.’

  The three women looked at each other as a feeling of dread washed over them all.

  ‘Now that I come to think about it,’ said Ruby, ‘that cat has been a pain for days. He’s been outside the kitchen meowing all the time, trying to get into the house, following me down the road.’ She paused. ‘Oh, Mum . . . Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’

  ‘May, you stay here and keep an eye on Alma, will you, dear?’ said Rachel.

  ‘Rex,’ Bea called over her shoulder. ‘Can you come here a minute, darling. I think we might need you.’

  By now Ruby was halfway down the drive, with Rachel hard on her heels. ‘Is Mrs McCoody very old?’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘Not really. She’s forty . . . forty-five. She runs Sunny Beaches on her own. Like I said, we sometimes recommend each other, if we’re already booked up and other trippers arrive.’

  By the time they reached the back door, Biscuit had fled and Bea and Rex were tearing down the driveway. Ruby knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Rachel peered through the kitchen window, but could see nothing. Several large flies crawled along the inside of the glass. Ruby tried the handle, but the door was locked.

  ‘Do you have a key?’ asked Bea, coming up behind them.

  Ruby felt sick. She should have thought about this before. Why hadn’t she put two and two together? Mrs McCoody was devoted to her cat. She would never have left Biscuit outside to fend for himself. If only she had been paying attention, she might have realized there was a problem sooner. She could only hope that she wasn’t too late. She lifted a flower pot by the step and they found the key underneath. It didn’t take a second to get the door open.

  ‘Let me go first, Ruby,’ said Rex, as the rank smell of something putrid drifted towards them. ‘Stay here.’

  He crossed the kitchen in four strides and disappeared down the hallway. Ruby couldn’t wait. Despite her mother’s protestations, she followed her father.

  The cloying smell was even sharper in the dark hall. It went into her mouth and stuck in her throat. Ruby pulled her cardigan sleeve over her hand and clamped it to her mouth as she went forward, but she couldn’t stop herself from gagging. The sound of buzzing filled the air as her head was bombarded by flies. A second later her father came out of the sitting room.

  ‘I think this is a job for the police,’ he said, taking Ruby’s arm and propelling her back towards the kitchen. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. She’s been dead for some time.’

  CHAPTER 2

  ‘So, when did you last see Mrs McCoody?’

  Ruby stared into the middle distance as she stirred her tea and tried to collect her thoughts. Finding her neighbour dead had been the most awful shock. Her father hadn’t allowed her to see the body, so perhaps that was why everything seemed so unreal. Ruby felt as if she was in some sort of ghastly nightmare. In a moment she would wake up and everything would be back to normal. She wasn’t close to Mrs McCoody, but she was appalled that her neighbour had been dead for so long before she’d realized anything was wrong.

  ‘Mrs Searle?’

  Ruby was sitting at the kitchen table with Jim and Sergeant Williams, who was taking everything down in his policeman’s notebook. The day that she had looked forward to and planned for so long was utterly ruined. It wasn’t often that the whole family managed to get together and this was the first time little Alma had been in her home.

  Rachel and Percy had taken May and the baby for a walk as soon as the police arrived. Everybody thought it best to shield May from what was going on, as far as it was possible. Rex was still next door and would stay there until the undertaker came to remove the body. The only outward signs that something had happened were the fact that every window in the house was thrown wide open and a lone constable stood guard by the gate.

  ‘Mrs Searle?’ Sergeant Williams repeated. His voice brought Ruby back to the here and now. ‘When did you last see your neighbour?’

  ‘Monday,’ said Ruby dully. ‘No, Wednesday. That was the day Mrs McCoody went to see her friend in the nursing home.’

  ‘Wednesday was the day I went to see the doctor,’ Jim corrected.

  Ruby gave him a quizzical look as she struggled to comprehend.

  ‘You came with me,’ Jim insisted.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Ruby. She kept remembering the flies and the awful smell. Why hadn’t she gone round when Biscuit kept worrying her? Why hadn’t she put two and two together?

  ‘Do you know which nursing home?’ asked Sergeant Williams.

  ‘Umm?’

  ‘The nursing home where Mrs McCoody�
��s friend was,’ said Sergeant Williams.

  Ruby shook her head. She had been told once, but she couldn’t remember it now.

  ‘What was her friend’s name?’ Clearly the sergeant didn’t want to give up.

  Ruby shrugged and then exclaimed, ‘Elsie. Her name was Elsie.’

  ‘Elsie who?’

  Ruby frowned crossly. ‘I don’t know.’ She looked away. Why didn’t the man go away, with his stupid, unanswerable questions? She felt a gentle hand go over hers and looked up at her mother.

  ‘Darling, you’ll wear the bottom of the cup out, if you don’t stop stirring that spoon.’

  Ruby glanced down and took the spoon out of her tea.

  ‘Do you think all this could wait until tomorrow?’ Bea asked. ‘Only my daughter looks exhausted.’

  ‘No, no,’ said Ruby, coming back to life. ‘I’ll be fine.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Jim’s right. We were at the doctor’s on Wednesday, so I must have talked to her last Monday.’

  ‘And you, sir?’

  Jim grunted and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Weeks ago.’

  ‘We were never close,’ said Ruby quickly, ‘but we got on all right. We helped each other out, if we had too many guests, but we didn’t spend much time in each other’s houses.’

  She suddenly felt awful again. Perhaps, if she’d been more caring, she might have noticed that Mrs McCoody’s washing had stayed on the line for the best part of a week.

  ‘There were so many flies . . .’ said Ruby quietly.

  ‘She had the electric fire on,’ said Sergeant Williams. ‘The room was very hot.’

  Ruby shuddered. ‘How did she die?’

  ‘It appears to be natural causes,’ said Sergeant Williams.

  ‘How old was she?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘Fifty-two,’ said the sergeant. ‘Do you recall if she had any relatives?’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘Mr McCoody died some time ago. He had TB. As far as I know, Mrs McCoody has always been on her own.’

  Sergeant Williams closed his notebook. ‘I know this has been a traumatic time for you, Ruby, but you mustn’t blame yourself in any way. There was probably nothing any of us could have done.’ He rose to his feet. ‘If you think of anything else I should know – no matter how small – you know where to contact me.’

  Ruby gave him a thin smile. ‘Oh, Mum,’ she said as he left the room, ‘why on earth didn’t I twig? Do you think I could have saved her, if I’d been more neighbourly?’

  ‘You heard what the sergeant said,’ said Bea. ‘You mustn’t go blaming yourself, darling. We all lead such busy lives.’

  Her mother was right, but it was of small consolation to Ruby. She hated the thought of Mrs McCoody all alone in her sitting room for perhaps as long as four or five days, with only the flies for company.

  Ruby laid her head on Jim’s shoulder. They were alone and she was sitting on the arm of his chair. Her mother, Rex and May had just gone, and Percy, Rachel and little Alma were halfway home already. Ruby was feeling utterly drained.

  Jim patted her leg tenderly. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself, love,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I can’t stop myself thinking about that washing,’ she said, returning once again to the same old question. ‘Why didn’t it register with me that it had been there since last Monday?’

  ‘Monday isn’t the only day you do the washing, when you have a guest house,’ he said. ‘You know that yourself.’

  ‘But she didn’t have any guests.’

  ‘You know that now,’ said Jim, ‘but she didn’t always tell us when she’d got boarders in, did she? Ruby, it’s not your fault.’ He turned his head to look at her. ‘It’s not your fault.’

  Something stirred between them. His hand on her thigh seemed to gain heat. He lifted his head as she lowered hers and, as their lips met, a pulse of electricity was unleashed. That first kiss was clumsy, but she was aware of his hand cupping her cheek and then he pulled her head towards him. His tongue probed her mouth and Ruby responded eagerly. This was the first time in what seemed like a lifetime that he’d kissed her like this. It had been so long – too long. Every cell in her body ached for him. Her heartbeat had gone through the roof and she could already feel herself expanding and moistening her panties. God, she wanted him. She wanted him so badly. His hand found its way into her blouse and she moaned softly as he touched her bare skin. Her hand followed the line of his body, unfamiliar now, travelling from his chest to his waist and on towards his crutch. ‘Oh, Jim . . . Jim . . .’

  But the moment she touched him, his whole body stiffened. Confused, Ruby covered his face with kisses as she murmured his name. He shifted in the chair and grasped her wrist. ‘No, Ruby,’ he said gruffly, pushing her away. ‘I can’t.’

  Ruby was devastated. ‘Darling, please.’

  ‘I can’t face it. My legs – they’re not up to it. It’ll be too painful.’ He pushed himself out of the chair and stood up with his back to her.

  ‘Even if we don’t . . . you know,’ Ruby began desperately, ‘we could still have a cuddle, couldn’t we?’

  ‘I’m tired,’ he said, avoiding her eye. ‘I’m going to bed.’

  She reached out for him, but he’d picked up his sticks and moved away. She wanted to burst into tears and scream, What’s the matter with you? Aren’t you a man any more? But instead she sucked in her lips and bit back the tears as she watched him shuffle towards the door.

  ‘Do you want me to make a drink for you?’

  ‘No thanks,’ he said, without even turning round, and as he left the room and closed the door, she was left staring at the wood. She cried for a bit; silent tears, but every bit as painful as those with sound. What had happened? For one wonderfully glorious moment she had thought the old Jim was back, but just as before, he would only go so far before the feeling evaporated. She’d always thought the male sexual drive was the one that needed taming, but she was left with every fibre in her switched on, hungry for satisfaction and with nowhere to go.

  Ruby washed her face and combed her hair before she entered the bedroom. Jim was already under the covers and pretending to be asleep. Part of her wanted to make a scene, even shout at him; but then she thought that perhaps if she gave him another chance, maybe, just maybe . . . She undressed, but didn’t put her nightie on. Climbing into bed, she switched off the light and moved closer to him. With her arm over his waist, she kissed the back of Jim’s neck and his left ear. There was no response, so she pressed herself suggestively into his back.

  ‘Ruby, stop it,’ he said.

  ‘Jim, darling . . .’

  ‘I said no.’ His voice was harsh. ‘Behave yourself.’

  ‘Behave myself?’ she said crossly. ‘Are you made of lead or something? We’re married, for God’s sake.’ He didn’t respond. Hot tears sprang into her eyes again. ‘Jim, talk to me.’

  But there was only silence.

  Ruby moved away and, sitting up, reached for her nightdress under the pillow. ‘Is this how it’s going to be for the rest of our married life?’ she demanded. ‘I’m not made of stone, you know. You treat me like a leper. What’s wrong with you? There was a time when you couldn’t keep your hands off me.’

  Her husband remained infuriatingly silent. Ruby banged her pillow and threw herself back down on the bed. ‘Answer me, Jim.’ By now her voice was bordering on the hysterical. ‘Why don’t you want me any more?’ What’s wrong with me? Don’t you love me any more?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Ruby,’ he said in an exasperated tone, ‘do you have to be the drama queen every time?’

  Ruby felt her face flush with pent-up anger. ‘Jim, it’s been more than two years.’

  He turned over angrily. ‘Yes, it’s been two years.’ The light was off, so she couldn’t actually see his face, but as he spoke she could feel a fine spray of spittle coming from his mouth. ‘Two years and four months, since you persuaded me to go to that damned rally at the pavilion and I ended up with half a ton of people falling
on top of me.’

  Ruby opened her mouth to say something, but Jim wasn’t finished yet.

  ‘Ever since that day, I’ve endured such hell,’ he spat. ‘I’ve lost my livelihood, I’ve lost everything I ever dreamed of, I can’t work – and I can’t even bloody walk properly. I tell you, I’m sick of it.’

  ‘Well, it’s hardly been a walk in the park for me, either,’ she snapped.

  ‘I can’t see why not,’ he retaliated. ‘You’ve got everything you want: this house, the guests. You rule the roost, don’t you? Mrs Congenial Landlady, woman of means.’

  ‘Are you punishing me then?’ she cried in disbelief.

  ‘Me, me, me,’ he said. ‘It’s always about you, Ruby. All about what you want. All about what makes you happy. What about me?’

  He turned his back again, and Ruby was left gobsmacked and trying to understand his stinging rebuke. Was she really that selfish? She had moved heaven and earth to care for him. Why was Jim so angry with her?

  ‘Do you really hate me that much?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘I don’t hate you, Ruby,’ he said, his voice muffled by the pillow. ‘I just want to be left alone. Now go to sleep.’

  Go to sleep? How could she go to sleep when he’d just said all those things? She’d always thought that, in some respects, they were lucky. It had never dawned on her that Jim actually blamed her for what had happened, but clearly he did.

  The guest house relieved them both of the worry about where the next penny was coming from; and, if they didn’t have the guest house, they wouldn’t have anything like this standard of living. Jim had got some sickness money from an assurance policy he’d taken out, but that only lasted for two years. He’d paid into a slate club at the pub as well, but that only gave him a few shillings a week and would come to an end shortly.

  Trembling, Ruby lay there and, trying to grasp the enormity of Jim’s bitterness, struggled to recall the sequence of events on that fateful night. He was right: she had been the one to suggest going to the British Union of Fascists meeting at the Southern Pavilion, but only because she was concerned that, after so many survivors of the regimental firing squad had themselves been murdered, Colonel Blatchington might be in danger as well. Jim had never supported her in her investigations. In fact he’d pooh-poohed the idea and told her she would be labelled a crank. Ruby had suggested that, by warning the colonel, he would be on his guard.