‘You stop that engine now, boy,’ he shouted.
The sound of the tractor died and the lane fell silent. In the distance the points in the shunting yards clattered and in the hawthorn hedge behind the cottages a blackbird began to sing.
Holt sat on the machine, his body rigid, his face an expressionless mask.
‘Now get down here quick and tell me what you’re doin’ on this thing,’ the MP said, as if speaking to a naughty child.
‘What’s up, lads?’ Henry called cheerily. ‘There’s no trouble here.’
‘There’s no problem here,’ John Bardley added. ‘Young Michael has been giving me a hand. There’s no trouble.’
‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ the MP said, glancing at the two elderly men on the pavement, ‘this here soldier is under arrest.’
‘Arrest?’ Wes gasped. ‘Arrest? What for?’
The MP ignored the question. ‘Get down and give me a hand here,’ he called to the jeep’s driver. ‘Let’s hope you boys all got passes, or the rest of you are in trouble as well.’
Con’s fingers trembled as he felt in his pocket for his pass.
‘What you arresting them for?’ Frank asked. ‘They’re here ’cos they’ve been invited.’
Without looking around to see who had spoken, the MP unbuttoned his holster and growled, ‘Get down, boy, like you was told.’
‘Now just a minute,’ John Bardley said, his face flushed with anger, as he stepped into the road and placed his hand on the tractor’s wheel. ‘This tractor is mine. Don’t you order him to get down off my tractor.’
‘This man is in public and out of uniform, sir. It is against army—’
‘This man has been grafting all day mending my bloody tractor. Why in hell’s name would he do it in his uniform! There’s no need for this. That’s my tractor, and this soldier has been helping me.’
The driver, who had been checking the black GIs’ passes, unclipped his holster and walked over to the farmer.
‘Back off, guy,’ he said softly.
When Mrs Bland – who had come out to check on her precious books – saw the MP pull out his gun, she strode over to join the white-faced farmer.
‘You’re on English soil,’ she said. ‘We don’t use guns against people here. This gentleman has explained why this young man is not in uniform. Now, any more nonsense and I shall write to your superiors.’
‘Aye, we’re all witnesses,’ Frank called. ‘If our police come, you’ll be in trouble. Your lads were in trouble in Liverpool last week for waving guns around.’
The fat MP didn’t flinch, but refastened the clip on his holster and nodded to the second MP who did the same. Then the two men walked over to the jeep, and the pink-faced sergeant looked around the silent group, his eyes resting for a moment on the faces of each of the three black GIs, before he climbed back inside and the jeep sped away.
Ruby stood in the doctor’s kitchen and wriggled uncomfortably: it was the first time she’d worn suspenders, and the contraption tugging the delicate stockings tightly against her thighs felt constraining, yet too fragile for its purpose. She’d tried walking around the cottage wearing the unfamiliar underwear, but the apparatus still felt unstable.
‘Well, you do look a picture,’ Alice Watts said. ‘You’ll have to be careful you don’t get marks on that frock. Use my overall. It’s behind the door.’
‘I’ve brought a pair of shoes to wear as well,’ Ruby said, pulling a pair of Sadie’s shoes out of her bag. ‘They’re a bit big.’
‘Well, push some paper inside. Your hair’s nice too. Nice touch with those hairslides. You look grown up with it down.’
The hairstyle had been Sadie’s idea. Ruby was going to plait it and wind it around her head but Sadie and Lou, who was visiting with her fiancé, had decided that it should be curled. Ruby had tried to argue that Frank wouldn’t want to sit there and wait, but he’d just smiled and winked at her. She’d spent most of the afternoon getting ready. First, they’d washed her hair, then put it in curlers and then used the curling tongs, until the smell of singed hair filled the cottage. When her hair was finished, Sadie had helped her put on her newly altered dress and said how nice she looked.
Ruby pulled on the faded overall and sat down next to Alice, who was preparing the vegetables for the evening meal.
‘Now, madam wants you to play at the start of the evening when the guests are arriving,’ she said. ‘Himself will open the door and do coats and the doctor will do the drinks. Then you can help in here. Once they’re in the dining room, Dick has to get the fireworks ready in the hall. Fireworks inside. I don’t know where she got the idea. She wants them to go off when the pudding’s being served. It’s to be decorated with these little sparkly things. She hopes her guests will think that’s all there is. Then we pull open the door and whoosh! All the fireworks go off in the hall.’
‘Lou and Sadie did my hair for me,’ Ruby said, dragging the colander into the centre of the large wooden table and taking out the last of the carrots for peeling. ‘Lou and her fiancé have come to visit.’
‘Is he nice?’
Ruby smiled, thinking of Frank’s rosy cheeks and black curls. ‘He’s happy just to be with Lou. He must be, because he’s spent most of his leave listening to nothing but talk about buttonholes, hymns and wedding breakfasts.’
Just before seven, Mrs Grey came into the kitchen to check on the progress of the meal.
‘Goodness, Ruby,’ she said. ‘I thought Alice had brought in another young lady to help. How grown-up you look.’
‘Quite lovely, she is, madam. Stand up, dear. Take off the overall and show Mrs Grey your dress.’
‘It’s quite charming,’ Mrs Grey smiled. ‘She’s such a find, isn’t she, Alice?’
Ruby’s cheeks turned a gentle pearly rose, and Mrs Grey had to agree that her new acquisition was indeed quite lovely.
‘Now, come and let me introduce you to Doctor Grey. I’ve told him how clever you are.’
In the sitting room the heavy brocade curtains had been closed. Two men wearing evening dress stood by the open fire. Each one was holding a crystal tumbler.
‘Darling, I want you to meet Ruby,’ she said. ‘Ruby, this is Doctor Grey. You remember, dear, I told you how well Ruby plays for my little gatherings, and she’s such a help to Alice.’
From her weeks spent mending and washing his shirts, Ruby knew that the doctor must be a large man with a thick neck and broad shoulders, but what she hadn’t expected was that he would be short, barely five feet tall. Doctor Grey, who had been standing with his back towards them, put his tumbler on the white marble mantelpiece and turned around. He had silver hair, and in profile, his handsome head reminded her of the plaster bust of a Roman emperor that she’d seen in the prop room at the Theatre Royal.
‘My wife has told me how helpful you have been and I’m looking forward to hearing you play,’ he said, as Mrs Grey bent slightly and draped her slender arm around his shoulder.
‘Doctor Grey and I would like you to play when our guests arrive, but I suppose Alice has told you this. Now, I’d like you to come and look at the way the dining room has been set out. It will help, if I need you to set out the table for me. Not tonight, of course, but we will be doing quite a bit of entertaining at Christmas and the New Year.’
‘Am I not to be introduced?’ the other man asked, stepping forward and taking Ruby’s hand.
‘This is my brother, Ruby, Mr Rollo. It’s thanks to Ruby, Rollo dear, that your music score arrived in order and not in an awful pickle.’
Rollo was tall and had his sister’s dazzling blue eyes and high forehead, but his hair was dark and slick with pomade. He would have been handsome, but his protruding front teeth pushed out his sensitive mouth into a fretful pout. When he took her hand, Ruby glanced down at her red rough skin in his smooth fingers, and was suddenly conscious of the home-made dress and borrowed shoes.
‘I’m glad you were here,’ he said, ‘to save the day.�
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‘Come on, Ruby,’ his sister said. ‘We need to check the table settings.’
The dining room was on the opposite side of the hall and looked out on to the gloomy front garden. The heavy curtains were black and gold, a theme that was echoed in the intricate floral wallpaper. The china was white, edged with bands of black and gold. The place settings were more complex than the ones used for the guests at Everdeane. Ruby didn’t say that she’d been taught how to lay a table, but listened politely as Mrs Grey explained where each piece of cutlery should go. Then she was asked to reset one of the places, and when Mrs Grey praised her for her quick fingers, it made her blush.
There were twelve guests for dinner. Two of the ladies were younger and prettier than the ones that came to the afternoon teas, but not as lovely as Mrs Grey, who had changed into an acid-green silk dress that showed off her long, graceful back. Her only pieces of jewellery were the discreet diamond studs in her ears and a diamond ring that flashed in the candlelight.
As Ruby played, she watched the guests arrive. They behaved as if they were characters in a film and called each other ‘darling’. They said things like, ‘Darling, how wonderful’, and ‘I love your dress, darling’. Doctor Grey poured out the drinks, and Mr Watts took their coats. One of the guests was Captain Edward O’Donal, who was in charge of the newly arrived truck companies at the nearby camp. Mrs Grey took him by the arm and introduced him to some of the other guests. Then another American arrived with Mr and Mrs Prendergast. He was called Captain Leary. She hadn’t seen any of the other guests before, except for Mrs Grey’s brother and Father O’Flynn, and she didn’t hear their names. The handsomest man, except for Doctor Grey – who was too short to be really handsome – was Captain O’Donal, who reminded her a little of Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind.
Once all the guests had arrived, Mrs Grey led them into the dining room. This was Ruby’s sign to leave the piano and go to help in the kitchen. Alice looked very hot. She was cross with Mr Watts, who was already dressed in the suit he wore for serving the guests, and was getting in her way.
‘At last,’ she said. ‘Look, Ruby’s here. They’ve gone in. That soup’s going to be cold. Ruby, you go and help, and don’t forget, serve from the left.’
The soup was oxtail. As it was being served, Mrs Grey explained to the two Americans who Guy Fawkes was, and that before the war there would have been bonfires. Ruby noticed that, as he listened intently to the story, Captain O’Donal’s dark eyes reflected the flames from the candles. Doctor Grey smiled adoringly at his wife, and when Father O’Flynn pretended to be shocked and said that as a good Catholic she should have been on the side of poor Guy Fawkes, everyone laughed.
Alice had told her to leave the dining-room door open, so that they could find out when the diners were ready for the second course.
‘We’ll give them twenty minutes,’ she said. ‘Bring the trolley and the vegetable dishes from the pantry. Then go and stand by the door. Listen for the clattering to stop, or for them all to start talking.’
The main course was mock goose: a savoury dish made mainly with layers of lentils and onion. Alice pulled it out of the oven and prodded it.
‘This was his idea,’ she said. ‘He didn’t want his guests to think he was getting any extra, or anything on the black market. Rack of lamb would have been so much nicer. I’ve had to use all my onions and all the apples to make a sauce. There’s no taste to it, if you don’t put other things with it. He wanted roast potatoes. What does he imagine I have to roast them in, I’d like to know. There’s no meat. There’s no goose, so there’s no goose fat.’
When the soup plates had been collected, Mr Watts carried in the ‘goose’ and put it on the plates for Ruby to serve. Then he followed her with the dishes of potatoes and vegetables, waiting for each of the guests to help themselves. When she had served the ‘goose’ Ruby went back to the trolley for the sauce and gravy.
‘I wonder, Captain,’ Mrs Grey said, as Ruby served him with apple sauce and gravy, ‘if you could help me with my latest project.’
‘Well I’ll do anything I can, ma’am,’ he said, as Ruby served the apple sauce.
‘Oh, call me Diana, please.’
The captain coloured slightly, and Ruby almost caught Mrs Prendergast’s shoulder with the gravy boat. Diana was the perfect name. Diana Grey.
‘I’ve already enlisted Mrs Prendergast’s help and some of the other ladies. We are hoping to organise cultural tours around the local factories. We thought art. A touring exhibition of paintings would be just the thing. And when Mr Prendergast told me you were in charge of the newly arrived truck companies …’
‘It’s such a shame,’ Mrs Prendergast said from the opposite side of the captain, ‘there are so many collections that are in storage. It would be a way to allow people to see them. Not the most valuable, of course. An opportunity to educate …’
‘I’d be happy to help, if I can.’
‘We also thought, if it was successful, of trying to get an orchestra, or at least a small group, a quartet or a trio,’ Mrs Prendergast added.
‘Edward could probably help you there as well, ma’am,’ Captain Leary said. ‘Our black soldiers sing really well. Very musical.’
‘Well, that would be a wonderful idea,’ she said, ‘if your men aren’t too busy.’
‘Since the new GIs arrived they’ve made themselves very popular,’ Father O’Flynn said. ‘They come to our church dances. The other GIs seem to keep more to the camp. They invite the local people there, but they don’t come to our social events very much. Can we expect the soldiers from your camp to be organising dances for our young people, Captain O’Donal?’
‘I, well … We don’t have the facilities … And the American clubs …’
‘The clubs are quite a way out of the village, but I know the youngsters have always looked forward to their visits there and—’
‘The clubs are white only, sir,’ Captain O’Donal said.
Ruby noticed Captain Leary shift uneasily in his chair. As she moved on to Doctor Grey, he smiled at her and helped himself to the apple sauce.
‘Is that not rather inappropriate at this moment in history?’ he asked, putting the sauce back on the tray and motioning to Ruby that she could move on to the next diner, a young lady with bulging eyes and dark hair. ‘After all, your men are here to join with us in fighting … And the war is surely a rejection of Hitler’s racial theories.’
Mrs Grey, who was sitting opposite her husband, looked up, and Ruby saw the little fold between her eyebrows deepen.
‘Thank you, Mr Watts,’ she said. ‘You can leave the rest of the vegetables and the sauce. We’ll help ourselves.’
Ruby moved on to Rollo, the last person to be served. He waved her away and turned to his sister.
‘Did I tell you what the latest fashion is in town?’ he asked. ‘All the fellows are having the collars of their shirts changed. You know, pinstriped collars on a checked shirt, that sort of thing. Apparently, some fellows have done it for the war effort, because it saves cloth, I suppose. But now it’s caught on as a style.’
As she slipped out of the door, Ruby was pleased to see that Mrs Grey was smiling again.
The dessert was stewed pears and plums. Mr Watts had taken off his jacket and was beating the mock cream that was to go on the top.
‘If them things have to stand up in it,’ Alice said, nodding to the thin fireworks on the table, ‘it’s got to be stiff. You’d best take it in yourself, Dick. I don’t want Ruby getting sparks on her dress.’
‘I’ve the rest of the fireworks to do,’ he complained.
The trolley had been wheeled back in and now had a bucket of sand with fireworks – Roman candles and silver fountains – stuck in the top.
‘Ruby can push the trolley in the hall and then you can light it. I don’t know why he lets her do these daft things. Thirty-five if she’s a day and behaves like a spoilt child. We’ve worked for the doctor and his mot
her for years. Haven’t we, Dick? Never had all this,’ Alice said, waving the dishcloth in the direction of the trolley. ‘I don’t know what his dear mother would make of it. Indoor fireworks. It’s a disgrace. Prendergast is here as well. Anyone else who did this, and he’d be after fining them.’
‘He asked him last week, when they was coming back from a meeting. Prendergast said it would be all right, as the trees would hide any light.’
When the dessert was ready, the cream held the fireworks in place. Then Mr Watts put on his gardening gloves and carried the tray into the hall, where Alice lit each little sparkler.
‘Get them things put out as soon as you can. I don’t want marks on the linen,’ she said.
Almost as soon as they were lit, the little fireworks began to fizz and tiny sparks burst into life. Ruby opened the dining-room doors and everyone cheered them. She helped Mr Watts to serve the fruit in small crystal dishes and then they slipped out, closing the doors behind them. Mr Watts lit the larger fireworks on the trolley, and as the coloured balls of light escaped from the Roman candles, he pulled the door open again to squeals of surprise from the young ladies, followed by applause from the other guests. She and Alice watched the bubbles of colour from the kitchen door. Ruby was pleased that Mrs Grey’s guests were impressed by the show, but she agreed with Sadie that the children would have enjoyed them more.
‘You ever been to a bonfire, dear?’ Alice asked.
Ruby could remember the noise of the fireworks. She’d been afraid. She remembered her father holding her and the smell of bay rum on his hair.
‘Once, when I was small. I felt sorry for the guy. There were Catherine wheels and rockets, but I remember the treacle toffee the best.’
‘Before the war, there was always a big bonfire on the rec. The children spent weeks collecting the wood.’
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