Love Walked Right In

by Pam Weaver

  ‘No,’ she protested. ‘No, no . . .’ but her anxious cries only seemed to inflame him all the more. When he started fumbling with his own clothes, she could feel that he was fully aroused. She tried to reach the saucepan again, planning to bring it down on his head, but the pan spun away and the handle slipped from her grasp. Then he pushed her head down onto the draining board and splayed her feet with his own leg. Her face was pressed hard against the plate shelf. The thick ring on his finger cut into the side of her ear, and she wept helplessly as she felt his clumsy hands pulling her knickers down.

  When it was all over, he finally stepped back and adjusted his clothes. Rivka was sobbing with the pain. She felt as if she had been ripped in two, and moaned slightly as she straightened herself up. Her lip felt as big as a balloon and her right eye was half-closed. Her cheek throbbed where he had pushed her face against the plate rack. There was blood coming from her ear, but that was nothing compared to the raging agony she felt between her legs. She turned to look at her assailant. He had his head down as he brushed the front of his white shirt; there was a splatter of her blood on the end. Snatching up the drying cloth that she was still holding in her hand, he dipped the end into the washing up water and sponged the blood away. ‘Bloody German tart!’ he muttered.

  Tasting blood, Rivka licked the inside of her mouth and became aware that one of her teeth was loose.

  Properly dressed again, the man picked up his drink and examined his cigar. It was almost bent in two. ‘Oh, bugger, look at that,’ he complained.

  Their eyes met for a split second. Rivka held his gaze long enough to gather all the spittle she could and then she spat in his face. In a flash he raised his arm as if to hit her, but behind them both a woman’s voice called out, ‘Are you still in the bathroom, darling? Are you all right? You haven’t been taken ill, have you?’

  Rivka bent painfully to pull up her knickers while the man, using the same tea towel that he’d used to wipe his shirt tail, soaked up the globule of saliva on his chin and tie. ‘Just washing my hands,’ he called casually. ‘I’ll be half a tick.’

  Rivka had her back to Mrs Hobden when her employer came into the room. ‘I was getting worried,’ she said. ‘You were gone such a long time. There’s still time for another rubber, if you want one.’

  ‘Why not,’ he chuckled. Mrs Hobden ignored Rivka and they left together.

  As soon as she was sure she was alone, Rivka made her way painfully up the back stairs to her room. About half an hour later Mrs Hobden rang through for hot chocolate. Ten minutes after that she went to the kitchen to see what was keeping her employee. The kitchen was still in a state of chaos, but there was no sign of her serving girl. On the way out of the room Mrs Hobden noticed a few spots of blood on the floor. Her hand automatically went to her throat. Don’t tell me the stupid girl has cut herself, she thought acidly; if she’s got blood all over my sheets, I’ll damn well take it out of her wage. It didn’t occur to her that in all the months she had worked for her, Rivka had never once received a wage.

  When Mrs Hobden burst into Rivka’s attic room, she wasn’t there, either. As she stood in the middle of the room, completely nonplussed, the wardrobe door swung open. The coat hangers swung together. The wardrobe was empty.

  For Ruby, Christmas turned out to be a family affair, but with two foreign guests. Ruby’s latest girls from the Deborah Committee had arrived five days before the holiday began. As it was impossible to move them on during the season, they were still at Sea View. Sisters Heidi and Frida were only in their teens. They had escaped from Germany, but they knew their parents – both professional people – had been taken to a concentration camp. Terrified and traumatized, they were relieved to find that Ruby was kind to them. As Jews, they didn’t celebrate Christmas, but these were exceptional days and they were glad to be included with the family and, above all, safe.

  Of course May was far too old to believe in Father Christmas, but he had finally heard her request for a yellow bicycle. First thing in the morning, having opened a rather flat-looking envelope, she was over the moon to find a note telling her to look outside, where she found a yellow bicycle at the side of the house. She biked down to Ruby’s place to show her sister, and throughout the day spent every moment she could riding around the empty roads.

  The whole family met at Bea and Rex’s home to spend the day together. Percy and Rachel had motored from Shoreham during the morning, bringing little Alma and her presents with them.

  As usual, the family opened their presents before dinner. Alma, now just over a year old – one year and three weeks old, to be exact – was alert, although slightly puzzled by the celebrations. She managed to tear the wrapping from a couple of her presents, but in the end she liked the box that her bricks had come in better than anything else. When she hit the side of it with her fist, it made a satisfyingly hollow sound, and yet she was strong enough to pick it up and wave it around.

  May had given everyone a carefully drawn picture, and Rex had given Bea a string of pearls, which were greatly admired by everybody. Rachel had a fox-fur stole from Percy, and Ruby got a hand-knitted cardigan from Jim. ‘Lena made it for me,’ he whispered as she unwrapped the tissue paper. ‘Good, isn’t she?’

  Ruby nodded and pecked his cheek.

  ‘Shall we do it now?’ he asked.

  Ruby shook her head. ‘Teatime,’ she said.

  Their Christmas meal was amazing. Bea had enlisted the help of Ruby’s German girls and they had the luxury of a chicken, which they ate with roast parsnips, carrots, cabbage and roast potatoes. Bea had made the Christmas pudding herself and carried it to the table on a silver platter in a blue haze of faming brandy, to a round of applause and some cheers.

  By twenty past two, everyone was feeling full and the men were a little sleepy. While Bea, Ruby and Rachel did the clearing up in the kitchen, the German girls were sent outside with the children – May on her bicycle and Alma in her pram – for a walk by the sea.

  ‘You should have asked them to do the clearing up,’ said Rachel. ‘It would be good practice for them.’

  But Bea had wanted it this way. It was a good opportunity to be alone with her girls and to catch up with all their news. She was delighted to hear that Rachel and Percy were doing very well with the transport business. Rachel was still doing her best to rescue those who had fallen foul of the authorities in Germany, but it was becoming more and more difficult.

  ‘I’m not sure how many more the Deborah Committee can get out,’ she said, scraping the leftover food into the pigs’ bin by the sink. ‘There are fewer and fewer travel permits being issued. These two may well be the last.’

  ‘What then?’ asked Bea. She was drying up and putting things back into the kitchen cupboards.

  Rachel stared somewhere into the middle distance. ‘You know, I’ve got a horrible feeling Hitler wants to kill every single Jew in Europe.’

  ‘Surely not,’ said Bea stoutly. ‘This country would never allow it.’

  ‘You really think war is inevitable then?’ asked Ruby.

  Rachel and Bea glanced at each other. ‘I’m afraid so, darling,’ said Bea.

  ‘We may not be seeing too much here, in sleepy old Worthing,’ said Rachel, ‘but children in council residential schools around London already have to have compulsory gas-mask practices.’

  ‘I’ve given up being treasurer of the Townswomen’s Guild and I’m joining the ARP instead,’ said Bea. ‘As soon as the new year starts, we’ll be actively preparing for war, and Mrs Hayward says she wants us Worthing women to be at the forefront of preparations here in the south.’

  ‘Mrs Hayward?’ said Ruby. ‘I’ve never heard you mention her before.’

  ‘Haven’t I?’ said Bea. ‘She’s a lovely girl. About your age. You’d like her.’

  ‘Some of the women I know in Shoreham who joined the ARP have already packed it up,’ said Rachel. ‘The men seem to be reluctant to give them anything to do, except make the tea.’
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  ‘Typical!’ said Bea, pulling a face. ‘Don’t they realize that when war comes to this country, we’re going to need every single person we’ve got, if we want to stop Hitler coming across the Channel?’

  Ruby, who was setting the tea tray, gave an involuntary shiver.

  ‘If you can spare the time,’ said Bea to Ruby, ‘why don’t you join us, darling?’

  Her reply was lost when Rex called from the sitting room, ‘The King’s speech is coming up.’

  They carried the tea tray in. Everyone made themselves comfortable and, just in the nick of time, the German girls came back with May and Alma. The baby was fast asleep in her pram, so Rachel left her in the kitchen. May came and sat at her mother’s feet with a bar of Cadbury’s chocolate and her new drawing pad. Rex turned the radio up and everyone fell silent, but it was a little uncomfortable listening to the King’s message. Although he didn’t stammer or stutter once this time, it was clear from his slow and awkward delivery that he was struggling to get the words out.

  ‘Many of you will remember the Christmas broadcasts of former years when my father spoke to his people as the revered head of a great family. His words brought happiness into the homes and hearts of listeners all over the world. I cannot,’ the forty-two-year-old king went on, ‘take his place.’ Then, referring to the promise that he and the Queen had made at their coronation, he said, ‘We have promised to try and be worthy of your trust and this is a pledge we will always keep.’

  Ruby shifted in her seat as the King went on to speak about the world being in the grip of shadows of enmity and fear. At the end of the speech he wished everybody ‘God’s blessing, health and prosperity in the year that lies ahead’. And, as the radio fell silent, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

  Rex stood up and switched it off while Bea served more tea. The mood in the room was sober.

  ‘Ruby and I have something to tell you,’ Jim suddenly blurted out.

  Ruby tried to stop him, but it was too late. She blushed deeply as everyone turned to look at her. ‘I’m going to have a baby,’ she said, lowering her eyes.

  The room erupted in happy squeals and kisses. Jim was slapped heartily across his back by the men, and Rex got out his best malt whisky and some decent sherry. May seemed slightly bemused by all the excitement, but she looked pleased. It took a couple of minutes for Heidi and Frida to cotton on, but they were just as delighted as the rest of the family. The men raised their glasses and the women their sherry, as they toasted Ruby and Jim. Jim seemed to be enjoying every minute, but Ruby could only manage a rather self-conscious smile.

  When all the fuss had died down a bit, Rachel leaned into her and, giving Ruby a hearty nudge, whispered in her sister-in-law’s ear, ‘What did I tell you? No resist a pretty pair of silk knickers.’

  On Boxing Day the weather had deteriorated, but they did it all over again, only this time at Percy and Rachel’s place. It was the first time Ruby and Jim had been to the house in Shoreham. Percy and Rachel lived in an impressive Edwardian house, spread over three floors. It was just off the seafront and, with central heating, was lovely and warm. Rachel had decorated it beautifully. The sitting room was cream and rose-pink with a light-green carpet in the middle of the parquet floor. There were three deeply squashy sofas. Percy’s office had oak panelling and the furnishings were russet-red. Upstairs Alma’s room was a delight in pale yellow, with a huge mural of a fairy castle. The kitchen was twice, maybe three times, the size of Sea View’s and very modern. The flooring was of a geometric design while the cupboards were green, and the tins, bread bin and canisters had a jazzy red pattern. There was a modern electric oven and two sinks.

  They ate in the dining room, which had a huge oak table that seated everyone comfortably. Rachel introduced the family to gefilte fish, which was stuffed carp poached with onions, eggs, seasoning and vegetable oil; it was delicious and much lighter than the meal they had all enjoyed the day before.

  In the afternoon they left Alma with her nanny and took May to the pantomime. This year it was Cinderella and it was held in the newly opened Odeon theatre. A beautiful and modern building, its facade was clad in faience tiles and had a series of six projecting ribs in the centre over the entrance. May loved the show and she wasn’t the only one. Bea nudged Ruby, who nudged Rachel as they caught sight of Rex, totally absorbed and shouting, ‘He’s behind you’ during one of the routines. They sang the silly songs and ate ice cream in the interval. Ruby thought she had never been happier, and even Jim joined in with the actions during the final sketch.

  When they came out of the Odeon, it was snowing. On their way back, Rachel squeezed Ruby’s hand in the back of the car.

  ‘Promise me,’ she whispered, ‘if anything happens to Percy and me, you’ll take care of Alma.’

  Ruby was puzzled. ‘Why – what’s likely to happen?’

  ‘Promise me,’ Rachel urged.

  Ruby was alarmed to see a tear glistening in her eye. ‘Of course I will,’ she said.

  Rachel sighed and, patting her sister-in-law’s arm, said, ‘Thank you, darling.’

  By the time they set out for Worthing, Ruby and Jim were ready for their beds. Once they got home, Ruby filled a hot-water bottle for Jim while he fed Wilfred and put down a dish of food for Biscuit. They were just about to go up to bed when Ruby looked at Jim with a quizzical expression.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘What was what?’

  ‘That scratching sound,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Obviously the cat trying to get in,’ said Jim, but just then Biscuit wandered across his feet and headed for his saucer. Jim pulled a face. ‘It’s just the wind,’ he said.

  ‘There it is again,’ said Ruby and, picking up the poker, she went to the back door. ‘Who is it?’ she called through the wood. ‘Who’s there?’

  She thought she heard something. It was barely audible and almost like a small sob. Cautiously, and with Jim right behind her in the wheelchair, Ruby opened the door. The freezing night air rushed in, but there was nobody on the doorstep. Ruby was just about to close the door when they both heard a small moan and then she looked down. A bundle of rags lay on the path. A hand came up and Ruby was filled with compassion. It must be some poor old tramp who had nowhere to go. It was Christmas, for heaven’s sake. Jim would never allow him in, but she could at the very least give him something hot to drink, and maybe some warm clothing, before sending him on his way.

  It was only as she drew closer that she saw they didn’t have a tramp on their doorstep. It was Rivka.

  CHAPTER 22

  Rex slipped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. ‘Are you all right?’

  Ruby nodded dully. They were sitting in the waiting area outside the ward. It had been a very long night. As soon as Ruby had realized it was Rivka lying on their back doorstep, every other thought had been shelved. It had taken every ounce of her strength to get the girl inside. Totally exhausted, Rivka was a dead weight and frozen to the marrow. Somehow or other Ruby hauled her into the chair by the range, and she and Jim swathed her in a blanket. By now Rivka was drifting in and out of consciousness.

  ‘How did she get here?’ Jim asked.

  ‘Walk,’ said Rivka in one of her lucid moments.

  Jim and Ruby glanced up at each other. Walked – all the way from Pulborough? But that was twelve miles or more. When had she set out? She must have walked all night to have arrived by lunchtime. Had she been on the back doorstep all afternoon and evening?

  ‘When did you set out?’ Jim asked, but Rivka had closed her eyes and her head lolled on his chest.

  To make her more comfortable, Ruby eased off her shoes. ‘What could have happened, to make her walk all that way?’ The girl’s feet were swollen and bleeding, and blue with cold. Her footwear was totally unsuitable for outdoor walking, especially at this time of year. ‘I think we’d better call my father.’

  Jim nodded.

  Thank God for the telephone. In a little under twenty min
utes, Rex was on the doorstep with his doctor’s bag. He had no hesitation in making the decision that Rivka should be in hospital and phoned for a St John ambulance.

  Rivka didn’t regain consciousness until much later in hospital and by that time the doctors had decided that she needed to go to theatre. As they wheeled her in, Rex came to Ruby with the bad news.

  ‘She’s been brutally raped,’ he said simply.

  Tears sprang to Ruby’s eyes. ‘How could someone do that to a vulnerable young woman who has been brought here to keep her safe?’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘I thought everyone had been vetted by the Deborah Committee.’

  ‘You can’t know what’s in someone’s mind,’ said Rex. ‘It’s appalling, but it happens.’

  ‘How is she?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘In a bad way,’ Rex sighed. ‘There’s some internal damage and she’s lost a lot of blood. Walking all that way didn’t help.’

  ‘But she will survive, won’t she?’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Rex. ‘She’s in good hands, and right now I’m more concerned about you. Come on, I’m taking you home.’

  ‘I’d like to be here for her,’ said Ruby.

  ‘And so you shall,’ said Rex, ‘but not now. In your condition you need to get some sleep, and Jim will be worried sick about you. You can come back later today at visiting time.’

  It was two days later and Rivka was still in hospital when Ruby finally contacted her sister-in-law. Rachel and Percy had been up to London to visit friends, and Ruby caught the bus to Shoreham to tell her face-to-face. Rachel’s jaw dropped when she heard what had happened.