by Pam Weaver
As soon as they’d gone, Jim sat at the kitchen table with a pencil, a ruler, paper and a dictionary. It was time to put his plan into action. The family might think him idle, but he had spent the past three months doing detailed research. He loved doing crosswords. Since the accident, it was his passion. Some were easier than others, but it hadn’t occurred to him for ages that each crossword puzzle was tailored to the readership of the magazine he was reading. A crossword in a magazine was easier to tackle than the one in The Times or the News Chronicle. Another thing that hadn’t occurred to him, until he’d made it his business to find out, was that the templates were similar. Eventually, by buying the magazines on a regular basis, he had worked out that each one probably had only ten or twelve templates, which were used in rotation.
Jim spent hours poring over them all and, when Ruby wasn’t around, copied the templates very carefully. The hard bit was putting the answers down. It could be tricky trying to find a word with an ‘e’ or an ‘f’ in the right place, so that it fitted in and matched up with another word going up or down. He messed up several templates before he worked out how to do it. Once the answers were in place, all he had to do was write down the questions. Cryptic crosswords were the biggest challenge.
He enjoyed doing it most with the monkey sitting on his shoulder, or on the back of the chair; and once he got going, he worked steadily. He’d have to do a lot of crosswords if he was going to make decent money at it, but he was convinced that once he got into a routine he could bring in anything from two to five pounds for each crossword that was accepted. For the first time in an age he felt he was getting somewhere. Concentrating on the words helped him forget the pain and discomfort. He’d never make a watch repairer or even a sign-writer, or any of the other jobs that the family had bandied about at one time or another. And he’d kept his plans from Ruby because he didn’t want her to build up her hopes and have her end up disappointed again. He knew he was a rotten husband, but he really, really cared about her, even though he could no longer show her. There were still times when he wished he’d never married her, but only because she deserved better than this.
His money from the slate club had already run out and the small policy he’d taken out while he was still a photographer, to help him if he ever got sick, was almost exhausted. He’d sold his photographic equipment, apart from the Contax camera that Thomas Kendrick had given him after he’d won a prize to spend a week under his tutorage in 1934. Soon he would be totally reliant on Ruby’s earnings and the thought turned Jim’s stomach. He had been emasculated, in more ways than one. This was why it was so important to him to find a way of making a living for himself. Perhaps the crosswords would be a start. He glanced up at the clock. Ruby would only be gone for two or maybe three hours. He’d better get cracking, but first he would drop a line to Mr Naiper-Raikes, the solicitor Mr Starling had told him about.
The Odeon cinema, which had been opened in March 1934, was supposed to resemble the sleek lines of an ocean liner. Just off the main shopping street in the centre of Worthing, its tall tower was illuminated at night. There was a large cafe in a curved extension in front of the cinema, with the foyer right behind. Inside, the auditorium was stunningly modern, with a huge multi-layered chandelier and an organ that came up out of the orchestra pit as it was being played during the interval.
As they waited in the queue to go in, Ruby pulled her mother aside and broached the subject of Edith Parsons’ need of a home. She had already mentioned it once, almost as soon as Edith asked her, but Bea was understandably cagey. Her lodger, a patient’s wife, was using the house while her husband battled for his life in hospital. Under the circumstances, Bea didn’t want to talk to her about leaving the property.
‘It seems rather insensitive,’ she’d told Ruby. ‘I don’t want to add to the poor woman’s problems.’
‘Of course not,’ Ruby had agreed at the time, but now that Edith’s wedding was fast approaching she felt she had to ask again.
‘It seems terrible to say this,’ Bea began, ‘but it shouldn’t be long now. He’s in the final stages, but please don’t say anything yet, darling.’
Ruby nodded. It was ironic that one person’s sorrow was another person’s joy. Of course she wouldn’t say anything to Edith, but she was excited for her. It looked as if her friend could start her marriage in her own home, after all.
Ruby, Bea, May and Rex were lucky to find a seat. As it was, they were unable to sit in the same row. Rex was in the row in front of them. The cinema was buzzing with excitement. When the Pathé News started, Ruby was glued to the screen as the soft voice of the King making his promises filled Westminster Abbey; and when the Archbishop of Canterbury lowered the crown onto King George VI’s head, the whole place erupted in spontaneous applause. The two little princesses, Elizabeth and Margaret Rose, looked so sweet in their long dresses with little bows all down the front. They each wore a crown themselves and were flanked by their grandmother, the majestic Queen Mary, and by the Princess Royal. When the main Pathé News presentation was over, the cinema-goers were in for a treat. There was another film of the coronation – a bit shorter than the first, but this one was in colour. Now Ruby could appreciate what Cousin Lily was talking about. The whole of London came to life as she saw the flags in The Mall and the colourful uniforms. She loved all the red and gold and was so lost in the film that it almost felt as if she’d been there herself.
When the show was over, Ruby spotted Bob Knight coming out of the cinema at the same time. He was with a group of friends, but when he saw Ruby he came over to say hello. Everyone made polite conversation, mostly about Lily’s wedding and how nice it was; but all the while Ruby was very aware of Bob’s closeness, and of her silky underwear. Her heart was racing and she felt dizzy with excitement. His dazzling smile as he left them seemed to be specially for her, and she knew her cheeks had gone pink. As she turned away, her mother said in a low breath, ‘Behave yourself. You’re a married woman, remember.’
Hugely embarrassed, Ruby blushed and looked away.
When she got back to the guest house, Jim was already upstairs. Ruby kept the light on as she undressed, to make sure he was looking at her.
‘Where the hell did you get that?’ he asked as she took off her dress. She was standing in front of him in her peach-coloured brassiere and matching panties. She fingered the lace on the leg. She loved the fact that it went all the way round, and that the long slit on her thigh went almost up to the elastic on the waist.
‘Do you like them?’ she said, parading before him. ‘This is what Rachel and Percy are giving me for my twenty-first birthday present. I bought them the day Rachel and I went to Brighton.’
Jim’s brow furrowed. ‘Your brother bought you that?’
‘Well, he didn’t actually see it,’ Ruby chuckled, ‘but it was a present from them both. It’s real silk, and it feels lovely. Go on, feel it.’
Jim’s expression was frozen and Ruby suddenly felt uncomfortable. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t you like it? It was very expensive.’
‘You look like a French tart,’ he spat.
Ruby was devastated. ‘I’d only wear things like this for you, Jim. I thought you’d like it.’
‘But you’ve been wearing it tonight,’ he said. ‘I can’t say I like the idea of my wife parading around the town looking like that. Supposing you had an accident and had to go to hospital – what would people think? Take it off, and put on some proper underwear.’
Tears sprang to Ruby’s eyes. She walked to the bed to get her nightdress from under her pillow, but then thought better of it. Jim had his head turned away from her, so she opened her drawer and took out the silk nightie. She had planned to save it until her twenty-first birthday, but when she slipped it over her shoulders, it fitted her like a dream, flattering her slim figure and perfectly complementing her complexion and her dark hair. Her breasts were slightly pushed up and the lace trim set it off beautifully.
‘Look, Jim,�
�� she said softly. ‘I’ll never wear this, other than in our bedroom. This is just for your eyes.’
Her husband turned his head and his jaw dropped. Ruby smiled. This was exactly the reaction she’d wanted. He had been sitting on his side of the bed while he took his socks off. He was ready to swing his legs up and pull the covers over himself. Instead he walked slowly around the bed. She smiled up at him as he approached, her eyes bright with happiness. He snatched at the top half angrily and she felt the stitching go. Then he drew back his hand and slapped her across the face – hard.
‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing,’ he said in a cold, measured tone she’d never heard before, ‘but I told you before, Ruby: the answer is no. Now get it into your head – it is not going to happen.’
She was crying now. Her face hurt so much it felt as if he’d split her cheek, but as she could see herself in the mirror, she knew her skin was still intact, even though it was already very red. Her head was spinning too. She supposed it was because the force of the blow had made it jerk sideways. With her hand on her faming cheek, she watched in disbelief as Jim went back to his side of the bed and sat down. Although deeply shocked and surprised, her heart was pounding. She wanted to hit him back, scratch his eyes out, call him every foul name she could think of. But instead she could only stand and weep as a big black cloud of despair enveloped her. Dear God, for better, for worse – was this it? Did she have to put up with this for the rest of her life?
There was a terrible silence in the room and, when she finally found the strength to speak, her voice was quiet.
‘I hate you, Jim Searle, and I wish to God I’d never married you.’
He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. ‘So do I, Ruby. Believe me, so do I.’
CHAPTER 13
Jean wasn’t very well. She had been fretful and off her food for a couple of days and Lena was worried. They had woken up to find her hot and sweaty, her hair plastered to her head.
‘She’s got a temperature,’ said Lena as she picked her up. Jean whimpered. ‘We have to get a doctor.’
‘No doctors,’ said Eric. ‘If I get a doctor, there’ll be questions.’
‘We don’t have to tell him everything,’ said Lena. ‘She’s our baby and we came here to see your auntie – what’s wrong with that?’
‘No doctors,’ said Eric. He was beginning to get a bit browned off with the way things were going. He was crazy about Lena and would have done anything for her, but spending every waking hour in a locked-up house was not his idea of fun. They had to keep their heads down until everything calmed down, but he wanted to get out, get a job and have a normal life. They’d been in Worthing almost two weeks now and, apart from the occasional stare from the nosy cow next door and a word with the bloke behind the counter where he bought groceries, he hadn’t spoken to a living soul.
As the day wore on, the toddler was very limp. Her face remained flushed, even though Lena constantly sponged her down with a cold flannel. By lunchtime things hadn’t changed.
‘We have to do something, Eric,’ she wailed. ‘I don’t want my baby to die.’
‘Nobody’s going to die,’ said Eric. ‘Just let her sleep it off. She’ll be fine.’
‘If she dies, I shall tell the police it was all your fault.’
‘You’re the kid’s mother,’ he retaliated angrily.
‘And I shall say you kidnapped me and held me here against my will.’
Eric stared at her in disbelief.
‘Well?’ she challenged. ‘You never let us go outside the front door, do you?’
‘I don’t want nobody asking questions,’ Eric insisted.
‘Mummy . . .’ Jean whimpered. ‘I want my mummy.’
‘I’m here, darling,’ said Lena. ‘Mummy’s here.’
Jim was consumed with guilt. He couldn’t understand why he had reacted the way he did. For some reason the sight of that nightdress had sparked something truly ugly, deep down inside him – something that he had no idea was even there. Of course he knew that was no excuse, but he wasn’t a man given to violence or bad temper. He had always prided himself that he had control over his emotions. It wasn’t so terrible, what Ruby had done, but when he’d seen her dressed like that, it was as if all the frustration and anger he’d been trying to subdue these past months had boiled over. May God forgive him – he’d hit a woman. He had always despised wife-beaters, and now he was one of them. He couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. He churned it round and round for hours on end, until he felt emotionally crippled and exhausted.
He couldn’t concentrate on his crosswords. He was too angry: angry with himself, and angry with Ruby for starting all this up again. The trouble was, she honestly believed that a kiss and a cuddle would make everything all right. She was a romantic, but when it came to the harsh realities of life, she was still so naive. Why couldn’t she simply accept that he just couldn’t have sex. He didn’t want it. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t get it up any more. It was unfair and it was lousy, but there it was.
Right now, he couldn’t bear to look at her. It was a mixture of hurt and shame, but he was hard pushed even to understand his own feelings, he felt so mixed up. Sometimes, when he was sure that he was on his own, when she’d gone to the shops or something, Jim wept. He wept for his parents; he wept for what might have been; and he wept because he couldn’t redeem himself.
Ruby wept too. She wept because the moment Jim slapped her face, something in their relationship died. The trust was gone. And if she couldn’t trust him, how could they ever be happy again? She didn’t want to, but she always ended up going over and over everything that had happened in those awful months after the accident. She was no paragon of virtue herself, but she had made a bit more of an effort to save their marriage than he had. She’d tried to get him back on his feet. Look at the hours and hours she’d spent massaging his legs when he first came out of hospital. In the end he’d told her to stop, and when the family nagged him for not doing the exercises any more or refusing to go to the swimming baths, she’d stuck up for him.
She’d given Jim everything for his comfort, but whatever she’d done, it wasn’t enough. She’d encouraged him the best way she knew how, but he’d simply given up. It was as if he didn’t want things to get any better. And now he’d turned violent. Was it so wrong to do what she’d done? All she’d wanted was her husband back again. Rachel had told her there were other ways of doing it. She’d blushed when her sister-in-law had been so frank, but she was grateful at the same time. Apparently Jim didn’t have to work with his legs.
‘When he’s ready for you, why don’t you sit astride him,’ Rachel had said. ‘Lower yourself onto him. That way you can both enjoy each other, and it won’t put Jim under any strain.’
The more Ruby thought about it, the more it made sense. She would have told him her idea that night, but Jim wouldn’t even discuss making love. That slap had done a lot more than hurt her cheek. She felt broken inside; broken, unloved and doomed to live out this childless sham of a marriage. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Their conversation was monosyllabic, and she spent her days either avoiding him or going out of the room when he came in.
When the Sunday-to-Friday guests arrived, Ruby knew she would have to give them a plausible explanation for the bruise on her cheek. It had gone from red to blue and, worst of all, she was left with a very distinct finger mark.
‘You’ll have to excuse the way I look,’ she said with an apologetic smile, ‘but as you can see, my husband has difficulty in getting around. I saw him stumble and went to grab him, but unfortunately I ended up as the casualty. I look a bit of a sight, but everything is perfectly fine.’
She wasn’t sure how much of her story they believed but, having arrived on Sunday, they told her on Monday evening they would be leaving in the morning after breakfast, because ‘Something has come up’. Ruby guessed they had spent the day searching for another guest house. That made her even
more annoyed with Jim. Now he was losing her business, as well.
Whenever she walked into the room, Wilfred the monkey eyed her nervously. It was as if he sensed the tension between her and Jim. Biscuit behaved as normal, but then as long as he had food, Biscuit was anybody’s. She and Jim never spoke about what happened that Saturday night. When she had washed it, Ruby folded her lovely underwear and put in towards the back of the drawer. Through her tears, she did her best to mend the nightdress, but the lace around the neckline was irreparably damaged. It was such a shame. Perhaps she would never have anything so beautiful again.
With the Vacancies sign up in the window and no guests, Ruby was free to do as she pleased for at least a couple of days. Rachel was bringing two more refugees on Friday, but in the meantime Ruby decided to catch the bus to Chichester. As she walked towards the gate, she heard her mysterious neighbour calling from Mrs McCoody’s. She hadn’t seen much of the family since they’d arrived. They’d kept themselves to themselves more than most, but now Mrs McCoody’s nephew looked worried.
‘Excuse me, love. Do you know where’s the nearest doctor? Only our Jean has been took bad.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Ruby. ‘Dr Quinn is at the other end of the road. There’s a sign outside the door. You can’t miss it.’
The man went to get in the van.
‘I’ve got a telephone,’ said Ruby. ‘It’ll be quicker. What name shall I say?’
‘Er . . . Bill Tucker.’ He hesitated. ‘You’re all right, love. I’ll use the van.’