‘In fairytales that happens!’ Esme piped up, and Evie handed her a napkin to wipe her face.
‘In fairytales you have to overcome adversity, my love, you have to rise from humble beginnings.’
‘Ruby did.’
Evie wanted to tell her about Ruby’s start, about the care homes, and then living with her foster mother, and how much she’d felt like an outsider. How the careers advisors had told Ruby that girls from the estate shouldn’t dream so big. That singing wasn’t a career. And she’d proven them wrong.
Evelyn looked at her, lips twitching like she wanted to say more, ‘Shall I show you the library then, darling?’ She held out her hand to Esme, who took it instantly.
Evie watched as they climbed the winding staircase up to the landing, passing a few different rooms until they stopped at the far end of the corridor. The older woman paused, hand on the doorknob, building the tension as she asked Esme ‘Are you ready?’
Esme nodded grimly, her lips set in a thin line as she simply stared at the closed door.
The room was wonderful. Floor to ceiling windows with huge maroon draped curtains that fell heavily onto the dark wood. Bookshelves were on almost every wall, reaching the ceiling, and Esme gasped and ran over to the portable ladder that slid across the shelves.
‘Wow, you weren’t kidding,’ Evie looked up in awe.
Evelyn raised a perfectly drawn-on eyebrow, ‘I never joke about books, wine or men, darling.’
‘Good to know.’ She suppressed a smile, and watched as Esme skipped about before flinging herself onto one of the array of chairs arranged in a circle in the centre of the room. Evie loved how mismatched it was – a turquoise loveseat, a dark, worn Chesterfield, and a ludicrously high-backed throne. The coffee table was set low, and there were cushions on the floor around it. There were wine glass rim marks on the coffee table, which Evie found strangely endearing.
‘I used to entertain in here,’ Evelyn smiled, looking around at the walls, conjuring memories. ‘It’s always everyone’s favourite room. We used to sit around, listening to records, talking art and politics. Drinking too much. It was a wonderful time.’
‘Was that when you were a model?’ Evie asked tentatively. If Wikipedia and a couple of biographies were anything to go by, Evelyn Glass been the muse/lover of many an up-and-coming London artist. It all sounded terribly important and romantic back then. What she really wanted to ask was if Ruby had been around during some of these parties.
‘Yes, offering up a pretty face in return for being remembered eternally,’ Evelyn rolled her eyes and turned to Esme. ‘Esme, what do you want to be when you grow up?’
‘A marine biologist,’ she said without pause, and then opened one of the musty books and sniffed, ‘oooor a librarian, with a weekend job as an ice cream taster.’
The adults laughed, ‘You’ve really thought this through, Ez!’
Esme widened her eyes, ‘It’s a real job! I asked!’
‘Wouldn’t you ever get sick of ice cream?’ Evelyn asked the little girl.
‘Do you ever get sick of books?’ she replied, and turned back to the shelves.
Evie shared a look with the woman, snorting quietly. ‘Don’t worry, you get used to being chastised by a ten–year-old… eventually.’
‘It’s refreshing… I think.’
Evie perched on the Chesterfield, tilting her head, ‘Did you not like being a model? It sounded like you were the toast of the town back then. Parties and galas and exhibitions…’
Evelyn smiled softly, ‘Oh yes, the men loved me, wanted to take me away from it all. The older women wanted to protect me, the younger ones were desperately waiting for me to age so I’d no longer be a problem… I just wanted to make art. I started out as a photographer, you know. But the only things anyone was interested in were my self-portraits.’ Evelyn rolled her eyes, ‘And then it was all Warhol and pop art and Carnaby Street… it was a wonderful time, of course, but… well, I often wished I’d made something beautiful, instead of just being beautiful for a brief time.’
‘You’re still very beautiful!’ Esme said from across the room, not even looking up.
‘You’re very kind,’ Evelyn replied, amused.
‘She also only speaks the truth. It’s a terribly dangerous habit I’m trying to curb.’
Evelyn looked at the little girl, head buried in her book. ‘I just wanted to create something real, something that was mine. I seemed to just belong to other people for so long. Married the wrong people.’ She sighed and looked out of the window, ‘I wasn’t terribly good at life, I have to admit.’
Evie looked around at the room, ‘You said your husband built this room for you.’
‘Reggie,’ Evelyn’s face lit up, ‘my darling, darling Reggie. He was a comedy writer, family had money, and I… well, I just loved him. He never saw me as the others did. In fact, I was hanging around on a set and moaning to him because I was convinced I’d started getting wrinkles. He told me he’d been waiting for a sign that I was only human, and asked me to marry him.’
‘Before you’d even been on a date?’ Evie asked.
Evelyn shrugged, ‘I didn’t say yes right away. But I knew I was going to. Sometimes, after a few mis-steps, things work out. We had twenty-seven beautiful years together. And I got to know that I made at least one good decision in my life.’
‘Do you have kids?’ Esme piped up, looking at the collection of children’s books on the bottom shelf. Evelyn smiled softly, shaking her head.
‘No, and that was fine for a long time. I had a very full life, and even after Reggie passed away, I had my groups and my charities. But I do have a tendency to take in strays and waifs…’ Evelyn shook her head a little.
‘How did you meet Ruby?’ Evie asked bluntly, the question she’d been dying to ask since they’d arrived.
Evelyn smiled, ‘It seemed fated actually. We’d seen each other at a few parties, and of course I’d heard of her, the new golden child on the scene…’
Evie leant forward from her perch on the edge of the Chesterfield, and Evelyn sat opposite her, sinking into one of the armchairs.
‘I remember it exactly.’ Evelyn grinned. ‘She was wearing this leopard print catsuit, with these red sparkling stilettos, and she walked straight up to me and said “you’re Evelyn Glass and I’ve looked up to you forever”.’
Evelyn laughed, and Evie nodded, realising that she’d remembered correctly. ‘I thought that was you, she’d mentioned you when we were younger. I remembered because of our name.’
‘She talked about you too, all of you,’ Evelyn smiled softly, ‘and the miraculous thing was, I’d been looking for her for years, I’d wanted to meet her desperately. She reminded me so very much of myself.’
‘I’m sure she would have been honoured to know that,’ Evie patted her hand, ‘she was always looking for role models and proof that it could turn out all right. She was Lula Mae in Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Dorothy on the yellow brick road. Although she hated the idea that anyone would choose to go back to monochrome. Badgeley was always black and white, before and after her.’
Evelyn shook her head, ‘She always wanted everyone to see a girl who was a mixture between Lolita and a dame from a forties noire movie. I knew she was hurting. The record company was putting so much pressure on her towards the end, threatening to sue if she didn’t produce the album she’d promised them.’
‘Was she at the studio a lot?’
‘Who knows with Ruby? She rented the space for a couple of years, but barely used it. I knew she was running out of money, so I asked if she minded if I rented out the downstairs to Killian. I think they became good friends for a while. But she doesn’t keep people close for long,’ Evelyn shook her head, ‘or didn’t, rather. She didn’t keep people close. I don’t know the last time she used the space, I’m afraid. She’d already started retreating by then, wasn’t taking anyone’s calls.’
‘She was good at running,’ Evie shrugged, looki
ng at Esme in the corner, wondering how much of this she was taking in.
‘I should have done more. I saw her falling apart, I’ve seen what this industry does too many times, and… well, I got to know the real her. At least for a little while. That was a gift.’
They sat in silence for a moment.
‘You don’t know how much the space means to us…’ Evie took her chance, and leaned over to squeeze her hand ‘… to all of us.’
Esme walked over, still clutching a dusty book, ‘We’re going to make it special for Ruby. My mum’s going to make cakes.’
Evelyn looked up, ‘I hear your mum is quite the actress too. What about you, Esme? Any arty skills?’
Esme shrugged, ‘I’m an okay dancer. And I like to paint.’
‘She’s also a pretty good actress when it comes to crying wolf to get out of doing the dishes,’ Evie winked and stuck out her tongue, relieved to lighten the mood.
‘It’s not lying if you truly believe what you’re saying,’ Esme said wisely, pushing her glasses up and refusing to be baited.
‘Quite the philosopher.’
They sat quietly for a moment, watching the soft dusky light from the window bathing the room in a glow. There seemed to be no words, just sharing a quiet, perfect moment in a magical place.
‘Just… make something special, darling. Make some art that means something to you. Even if you don’t do the lessons and workshops and exhibitions and all the big dreams that you have for that place. Just use it to make something.’ Evelyn spoke as if they were already in a conversation, as if she’d finally said what she was desperate to say. ‘That’s what Ruby wanted. For you lovely girls to create.’
‘I will,’ Evie promised.
‘But we’re going to make it an amazing magical space too!’ Esme insisted, ‘For Ruby!’
‘For Ruby, and for us,’ Evie nodded.
They left that afternoon with the promise to make it a weekly occurrence, and Esme had her very own invitation to come and use the library whenever she wished, as long as an adult walked her over to the house. Evie felt all sorts of strange and wonderful emotions as they walked home together. Esme’s head was already in a book, which was a relief, as all Evie had to do was ensure she stopped at the roads and didn’t trip over anything. Ruby had spoken about them over the years, their memories had meant something to her. And she’d been friends with the moody carpenter. Evie couldn’t even imagine what that would have looked like. Could she imagine Ruby curling up with a mug of tea and smiling with a man, being open and friendly? No, it didn’t seem possible.
She felt drained as they made their way back to the studio, Esme thundering up the stairs with her arms full of books, desperate to put them on her new little bookcase. The door at the bottom of the stairs opened, and Evie thought about the carpenter. She thought that maybe he was mourning their friend too. She needed to be softer, she thought, taking a deep breath and pasting a smile on her face.
He appeared, sullen and scowling, ‘Could you get the child to try not to thunder up and down the stairs like that?’
So much for that.
‘The child is, wait for it… a child. They tend to thunder places.’
‘The funny thing about kids is they do what they’re taught to do by adults.’
‘Know a lot about kids, do you?’ she asked pointedly, watching as his face pinched, those beautiful blue eyes turning even colder.
‘About as little as you do, I’d say. Try to be quiet.’ He slammed the door in her face, and she was left feeling even more agitated than after their last interaction. Ruby must have destroyed him, like every other poor sucker she’d left broken-hearted in her wake.
***
‘The Careers woman lost it with me,’ Ruby grinned, throwing herself down on the grass next to them. Evie threw her a packet of crisps. Since Evie had mentioned to her mum that Ruby never seemed to have any lunch, her mother had started packing extra food into her bag each day. No one said anything necessarily, but Ruby always beamed at her with a sort of embarrassed appreciation.
‘What did you do now?’ Chelsea asked, lying on her back in the sunshine, arm across her face to shield her eyes.
‘She asked me what I wanted to do when I was older and I said “be famous”.’
Ruby grinned at all of them, crunching crisps between her white teeth.
‘And she said…’
‘Well, she started out all helpful and understanding, trying to explain I’d actually have to do something to get famous. I said I quite liked that Popstars show and maybe I’d audition for that.’
‘Oh boy,’ Mollie shook her head, picking bits of bread out of her jam sandwich where she noticed a couple of mouldy dots. ‘So then what?’
‘Eventually I convinced her that I was such a bimbo airhead that I’d decided I wasn’t really going to make a career plan because something would probably just work out because I’m pretty, and things work out for pretty people.’ Ruby laughed, ‘You should have seen her face. It was like I’d told her I shagged her husband! And then I said if all else failed I’d just become a groupie for the Chilis and travel around in their tour bus giving blow jobs all day.’
‘You said that?!’ Mollie squawked, choking on her sandwich. Evie pounded her on the back until she stopped coughing, and drank half a bottle of water.
Tears were leaking from Ruby’s eyes as she clutched her stomach and nodded, ‘Yep! I said that! Come on, they need something to laugh about in the staff room.’
‘But what did she say?’
Ruby sat up straight and looked rather proud of herself, ‘She said I was a very silly girl with messed up priorities, and if I didn’t work on taking myself more seriously, I was never going to amount to anything.’
‘Is she allowed to say that?’ Mollie gasped.
‘Nope,’ Chelsea shrugged, her tone already bored, ‘but it just proves the point, doesn’t it? If she was even a tiny bit good at her job, she would have asked Ruby why she had such low self-esteem and didn’t think she deserved anything better than sucking a rock star’s cock for the rest of her life. Instead, she punished you for thinking that way.’
‘I do deserve lots more than that,’ Ruby shrugged, ‘I just don’t necessarily want to tell some woman – who couldn’t achieve more than talking to a bunch of bored sixteen-year-olds every day as a career – about my dreams.’
‘So go on then Rubes, what are you going to do with this one magical life you’ve been given?’ Evie asked, pretending her water bottle was a microphone and tilting it towards Ruby.
‘Well, Evie, it’s very simple really,’ Ruby went into interview mode, pushing back her hair and clasping the ‘microphone’ seriously, ‘I’m going to run away to London and become a performer. I’m going to sing and dance and entertain people. And then when I get tired of that I’m going to teach little girls who no one takes seriously that they can do whatever the fuck they like.’
She dropped the mic, holding her hands out as she bowed, and the girls clapped dramatically.
‘If anyone could do it, it would definitely be you,’ Chelsea laughed, rolling over on the grass to look at her friend.
‘Well when you get out of brainiac academy you can come and be my dance instructor. If you’re not too posh for all that by then.’ Ruby grinned.
‘In what fucking world will I ever manage to be posh?’ Chelsea laughed, ‘I’m going to go to Oxford and show them what a chav really is.’
‘And they’ll be quaking in their elbow patches,’ Ruby laughed.
Chapter Five
‘Good morning, I’m calling from Red Ruby Representation,’ Evie trilled on the phone the next morning, going onto tiptoes to stretch out her calves. Mollie wandered in, head tilted as she mouthed ‘who’s that?’ but Evie just winked and waved it away.
‘And how can we help you this morning?’ the bored receptionist asked.
‘Well, one of our clients is a little… disappointed by the work you guys have been doing. I wa
s hoping I could talk to our connection, Chelsea Donolly, if she’s available.’
The receptionist paused, ‘We don’t have a Chelsea Donolly here. Do you mean Chelsea Donovan?’
‘That’s the one!’ Evie replied seamlessly, hoping she’d got the name of the company right.
‘I’ll patch you through.’
The phone buzzed briefly, and Evie paced back and forth as she watched Mollie prepare Esme’s breakfast, make coffee, and stretch, her massive blonde curls scrunched up around her face. Esme trundled in, the same huge hair and sleepy-eyed scowl. Watching them together, being so similar, was eerie.
‘Good morning, this is Chelsea Donovan,’ Chelsea’s voice rang through, clear and self-assured, and Evie didn’t pull any punches.
‘You changed your name? I get you don’t want any connection to your previous life, Chels, but come on!’
Mollie looked up in alarm, and ushered Esme back into the bedroom with her bowl of cereal, turning up the sound on their little TV.
‘This is a business line Evie, it’s not for idle chitchat.’
‘Well maybe if you answered your mobile you’d realise my chitchat isn’t idle at all!’
Chelsea sighed, ‘I’m really busy here, okay? Work is manic, I’m sorry I can’t suddenly drop everything because you’ve moved to London.’
Evie felt herself getting irritated, and took a couple of deep breaths, ‘I don’t want to argue. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I just want you to make a teeny, tiny bit of effort here. Out of some respect for our friendship.’
‘We haven’t been friends for years, Evie! I’m sorry Ruby died, but I’ve been getting on just fine by myself these last few years,’ Chelsea snorted. ‘I can’t just reframe my life because you’re here.’
‘I’m not asking you to change your entire life! I’m asking if there’s some space for us!’ Evie felt herself starting to yell, ‘Although maybe you would have to change everything! Maybe we don’t know Chelsea Donovan at all! Who are you now Chelsea, where do they think you’re from?’
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday Page 7