by May, Nicola
Leaving the bathroom, she looked up at Patrick in all his black and white feline stuffed glory and put the ring gently in a lidded pot on the side.
‘Patrick, I think our Gorgeous George may have been looking down and found me a proper boyfriend. What do you reckon, old fella?’
– Chapter Thirty-Three –
Michael lit a cigarette. He hadn’t smoked since the day that he had found Emily shagging Justin.
He had been reliving the awful drive back from Devon with Ruby all week, and when he found a stray fag in the back of his messy drawer, he just had to have it.
‘Once a smoker, always a smoker’ his mother used to say to him. Ironic really that she had died of lung cancer and had never smoked a cigarette in her life.
He hung out of the kitchen window of his poky flat so as not to stink it out.
Feeling sick after his spur of the moment vice, he made a gagging noise with his throat and clicked open his laptop.
A Ring for Miss Ruby by Michael Bell
Chapter 20: Why oh why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? But that wasn’t him. He did wear his heart on his sleeve and at least she knew how he felt now. Bloody games! Why did people play games in relationships? And if she liked him as much as he felt that she did, why was it a problem? Maybe it was him not understanding enough about bereavement. He had felt at a loss when he split with Emily, but unlike in death he knew he could see her again if he really wanted to. But he did understand about bereavement. His mum dying had been the single most dreadful thing that had ever happened in his life. Thinking back to that time, he did remember the complete feelings of isolation and pain, knowing that he would never see her ever again.
He lived for the moment because who knew when their moment was going to end - and that’s why he was so impulsive. If people couldn’t handle that then it wasn’t his problem. If somebody loved you enough they would surely just take you how you were.
Yes, he loved Ruby but he couldn’t force her to love him. That was it, decision made. She obviously didn’t feel for him. He was just the rebound that is so common in any sort of split. The kindest thing for her and him would be to let her go. It was obviously too soon for her to recognise her true feelings.
If he set her free and she came back to him, then that would be it. Love would have won.
– Chapter Thirty-Four –
‘Wuby, Wuby, Wuby, Wuby,’ Tony Choi sang in his best Chinese version of the Kaiser Chiefs hit whilst patting the chair next to him in Piaf’s. Daphne du Mont came running out, put a big bright red ring of lipstick on Ruby’s cheek, then zoomed back behind the counter, as the queue lengthened.
‘I have ordered hot chocolate and cold cakes. We have time for some fun together, yes?’
‘We have until midday, so a good hour or so before I meet Michael.’
‘Good-oh. I love a Saturday - no work, just my friends and time for play.’
‘Talking of work, how is life in the sexual-health clinic these days?’
Ruby thought back to her twelve jobs in twelve months mission and the mirth that working with Tony had caused.
‘Still full of stinking kippers and warty wilberforces.’
Ruby snorted. ‘You are just hilarious, Tony Choi.’
‘Do you remember when George came in and you thought he had the crabs, and he was just strimming the grounds?’ Tony asked innocently. ‘I’ve never seen anyone shoot under a desk so fast. Ah, dear, poor George - we loved him, didn’t we?’
‘We did, Tony, but it’s time I started to move on.’
Norbert, Daphne’s very attractive German toy boy, brought over their drinks and cakes. He too kissed Ruby on the cheek and carried on with his business.
‘How is this new one, by the way?’ Tony added sugar to his coffee.
‘He’s great, as a matter of fact, and I need to be nicer to him. I’ve been fighting my feelings, but just need to let them roll, I think.’
‘Yes, you must. He sounds like a kind man, Wuby. Here, take this fortune cookie. Do not open it until later. I have a feeling you may need it.’
‘Tony, I do love you.’
‘See? You can say it to me.’
‘How did you know about that?’ Ruby screwed her face up.
‘With age comes wisdom, my little wed-headed friend.’
Ruby took a slurp of her hot chocolate and looked to the busy Covent Garden street. She suddenly let out a gasp. Tony grabbed her arm tightly.
‘Did you see what I just saw?’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Tony replied in a whisper.
Ruby got up, sped to the door and raced down the street. It was a Saturday morning in the busiest tourist spot in London, so she had no chance of finding him amongst the crowds.
Her face was red when she came back in and she was shaking. Daphne came running over and held her. ‘Ruby, darling, what is it?’
‘I just saw George.’
Tony’s face was white.
‘No, darling, of course you didn’t, just someone who looks like him. It’s quite common for that to happen. It was just someone who looked like him, darling, I promise.’
Ruby took a deep breath and composed herself.
‘That was awful. Tony, you saw him too, didn’t you?’
By now, Tony had regained his composure. Whoever it was did look very much like George – had been his complete Doppelganger, in fact, and it had also completely shaken him.
‘Yes, he d-did look like a bit like him,’ Tony spluttered. ‘But Daphne’s right, you just wanted it to be him.’
Ruby sat back down and fingered her glass of hot chocolate. She had identified him on that fateful day, for goodness sake. Kissed him on his beautiful cheek and said goodbye. When would this nightmare ever end?
Just as she started to cry, Michael walked in.
Tony stood up, saying tactfully, ‘Herro, Michael. I think she burned her mouth on the hot drink.’
The eccentric Chineseman kissed Ruby and shook Michael’s hand.
‘You don’t have to go - Tony, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, pleasure to meet you. I must go though. I have shopping to do.’ He waved at Daphne and Norbert on his way out, he too feeling slightly unsettled at what had just happened.
Michael felt nothing but love for the sweet, vulnerable girl in front of him. He crouched down next to her and hugged her tightly. But he had come here for a reason and he had to follow it through.
‘Is it George?’ he said really quietly into her left ear.
‘Yes. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry.’ Keeping his coat on, he sat down and held her hands across the table. He was shocked to see her wedding finger bare.
‘Your ring? You took it off.’ Michael bit his lip. ‘Why?’ He closed his eyes momentarily. Maybe he shouldn’t say what he was going to say.
‘Because it’s time I gave you a chance Michael, stopped being so silly. You love me. I would be foolish not to listen to my head for once.’
Michael felt sick. When did anyone ever make a love decision with their head? He couldn’t believe the words he was now hearing from Ruby, but he had to carry on for his own sanity.
‘But look at you, Ruby, your heart is still saying George and as much as I do care about you, I don’t think you are ready for this, not yet anyway. Why don’t you take a bit of time out for yourself?’
‘I don’t want to be on my own,’ Ruby replied quietly. ‘I’ve spent enough bloody time rattling around in that flat.’ She sniffed.
‘Oh Rubes.’ He lifted her left hand and kissed her now even more beautiful bare wedding finger. ‘Let’s just take time out, for both of us. My heart can’t take the will she/won’t she any more.’
‘Oh, Michael. I know that it must be so hard for you, but bear with me. I’ve had a big think and you are such a good man. Can’t we just take it slow and see what happens?’
Michael covered his face with both of his big hands as if doing that would make this dreadful situation go away. He felt his
bottom lip starting to tremble. He took a deep breath and composed himself.
‘Please don’t do this to me, Rubes.’ He looked to the sky to stem the tears that were pricking his eyes. It had taken him so long to get to this decision, thinking it was completely the right one. And now here she was, this beautiful creature in front of him, deciding she wanted to make a real go of it.
He squeezed both her hands tightly. ‘No.’ He was very definite. ‘I’m going to go now, Ruby. All I want is for you to be happy, and I think this is the right decision for us both.’
He stood up and kissed her on the cheek.
‘Goodbye, darling.’
Turning the corner to the tube, he was glad of the rain to disguise the tears that had begun to gently fall down his cheeks.
– Chapter Thirty-Five –
Ruby clicked open the gate to the Stepney Green residence that had been so familiar to her for so many years. A lively Jack Russell nipped at her heels.
‘All right, gel?’
Rita Stevens had been scrubbing her step. She wiped her hands down her apron and greeted her daughter-in-law with an awkward kiss on the cheek.
‘Monty!’ her cockney voice suddenly bawled. ‘Get down, you little bastard. Now, on ya bed!’
Rita was how you imagined a mum should be - slightly rounded with curly brown hair and a warm loving nature. She was a proper old East Ender and Ruby had always had a soft spot for her. She had lost Alfie, her beloved husband, only a few years before her beloved son, and Ruby couldn’t imagine how lost she must feel, being encased in this double bubble of bereavement.
In fact, Ruby had been working at a funeral directors as one of her twelve jobs, when George’s father had died, and had managed to sort a proper East End send-off for him, with black-feather-wearing black horses and a carriage. Rita had never forgotten this.
Completely ignoring his mistress, Monty circled Ruby madly as she entered the kitchen. He had been inherited, along with Daffodils in the Lake District, from the charming Lucas Steadburton. But, Patrick the cat had hated him so much it just wasn’t fair, and with Alfie’s sad demise it seemed the right thing for Rita to have him as company. A partnership that happily had worked extremely well.
‘So what brings you here then, love?’ Rita placed a steaming cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table.
‘I was doing a fitting just up the road, so thought I’d come and see my dear old mum-in-law.’
‘Less of the “old”, ta, Red.’ She softened. ‘How you doing anyway, darling?’
‘I’m actually feeling a lot better, thanks.’ Ruby didn’t think it right to mention Michael just yet. ‘Work has really picked up and I seem to have a day and a night now, instead of it all blurring into one.’
‘Fucking terrible, innit?’ Rita wiped away a tear. ‘Goodness knows how people coped in the Blitz when countless family members copped it. I mean, two is bad enough.’
‘And how are you?’ Ruby could see the sadness in the woman’s eyes.
Rita sighed. ‘I’m afraid I’m not out of the blurring stage yet. He was my son, Rubes. It’s not the right way round, is it? A parent shouldn’t outlive their child. He used to drive me mad with his muddy feet and his forgetfulness, but I’d live in a quagmire forever just to see his cheeky little face again.’
Ruby held back her own tears. ‘I thought I saw him the other day.’
‘Oh, love.’
‘Yes, I was in Covent Garden with Tony, and he walked passed Piaf’s. Well, whoever it was walked past Piaf’s. I swear, Rita, it was the spit of our George. Same height, same hair, same gait. I thought maybe I was just seeing things, as evidently that’s quite common when someone dies, but even Tony said he could see the resemblance.’ Ruby took a sip of tea. ‘Honestly, it could have been him.’
Rita leaped up, saying, ‘Well, this won’t get the house bloody cleaned, us chatting like this, will it?’ Ruby was quite startled at her reaction. ‘I must get on, love. Pop in again, won’t you?’
Ruby clicked the front gate shut feeling slightly perturbed. Here’s your hat, here’s your coat, what’s your hurry? This was so out of character for her mother-in-law, who would usually sit happily for hours and discuss ‘their’ George.
Maybe it was her new way of coping, and talking about him wasn’t therapeutic any more. Grief was such a difficult beast to handle.
Ruby headed to the bus stop making a mental note to visit again next week. Reaching into her pocket to check for her Oyster card, she found the fortune cookie that Tony had given her. She pulled it out of the golden wrapper and broke the crumbly biscuit in half. The piece of paper inside fell to the ground. She didn’t see the man in front of her in the bus queue go to pick it up too and they bumped heads.
‘Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,’ the man read aloud, looking up straight into Ruby’s eyes and then down the full length of her body.’ Well, I’m not so sure.’
Still seeing stars, Ruby rubbed her head, then realising who it was, had to be steadied by the man’s arm.
‘I’m so sorry, I’ve obviously got a thicker skull than you,’ the posh shires accent added.
Ruby remained mute, because there standing right in front of her, with the exception of a small mole on his left cheek, was the George look-a-like she had seen outside Piaf’s just days before.
– Chapter Thirty-Six –
With a heavy heart, Michael put the key into the door of his poky flat. He felt sick. He threw his coat on the sofa, put the kettle on and clicked open his laptop.
A Ring for Miss Ruby by Michael Bell
Chapter 22: She had taken her ring off. A bare finger. No wedding band. A significant move for a widow - and what had he gone and done? Told her he didn’t want to see her any more. Had he made the right decision? Only time would tell. He sighed deeply. Why was love so difficult? Why couldn’t we be born with a homing device that drew us to just one person with whom we should spend the rest of our lives? Just put your finger on a touch screen and it would locate your match. They could be anywhere in the world. Any creed, colour, size. You would just be instantly attracted, fall in love and have babies and live happily ever after. But then again, would life be boring like that? Wasn’t half the fun meeting new people, touching new bodies, experiencing different characters, places and circumstances?
No, sod all that. At this moment Michael would be quite content with a homing device stuck on Ruby Ann Stevens’s forehead with his name on it.
Her green eyes had filled with tears earlier; those tears for her dead husband had made him just want to scoop her up and protect her forever. Dead husband. You couldn’t even say ‘ex-husband’. This dying young business wasn’t easy to get your head around, that was for sure.
Michael pushed his chair back and got up to make a cup of tea. He plonked it down on his desk and spilled some on the scraps of paper dotted all over it.
‘Bugger!’ To his surprise, he felt tears pricking his eyes. ‘Bugger, bugger, bugger.’ He sniffed loudly and went to the kitchen drawer to see if he could find another stray cigarette.
Coming back empty-handed, he took a deep breath and set his hands on the keyboard in readiness. He would wait for as long as it took. He had to submit his review on the Ferry Boat Inn to get a few quid in. Then he would get back into his book.
In fact, he would write like the wind and finish this damn novel. He had been wanting to do this for years. So now was the ideal time. He had no distraction other than the dark pull of an unrequited love. So his fridge would be filled with food, he could get sexual gratification from his sex scenes - and the hours would fly by. And by the time he had finished it, his beautiful Ruby would come to her senses and be running into his arms again.
He needed sex, so began to type furiously.
Emily was waiting at the door, nipples poking through her little vest, white stockings and suspenders accentuating her toned thighs…
– Chapter Thirty-Seven –
The Fireman (ak
a Nick) was in the small kitchen at the back of the church hall when Ruby arrived with four pints of milk. Despite being taller, he was also George-like in a way, with his London accent, short black quiffed hair, big blue eyes and boyish good looks. Today he had stubble and Ruby thought looked even more handsome than usual.
‘Here, let me.’ He took the milk off her and put it in the fridge, pushing against her needlessly as he did so.
‘Oi!’ Ruby thought at least she should pretend to make a bit of a fuss.
‘You loved it, really,’ the Fireman winked as he made his way out to the group, and Ruby had a recollection of her pre-George harlot status. She had even slept with Bentley, the owner of the old people’s home for ex-actors who was at least twenty years older than her. And then there was the handsome, bald and cocksure Adam. He had been so lovely but he wasn’t The One. George, who on paper wasn’t her type at all, was The One but now he had gone and she had to find another One.
But how could you do that, if the person you loved died and you still loved them? Calling someone a ‘minus one’ wouldn’t be very fair on the new beau, now would it? Maybe this would be a good discussion for The Bow Wowers. She must mention it to Simon.
Being here had, without a doubt, helped her understand more about relationships. And really this is why she had decided to make a go of it with Michael. But that had blown back in her face, hadn’t it? What could she do? The lovely tall and sexy Mr Bell had made his mind up. He had gone. Obviously didn’t love her enough to take it slow. But part of what he said had been right. He was the first man she had slept with. Yet with age comes the wisdom that the grass ain’t always greener and that people aren’t perfect. And she did feel ‘it’ with Michael. What she called her ‘love feeling’ when they were making love. A draw, a magnetism. ‘It’ just felt right with him.
‘Shit, bollocks, fuck.’ Jimmy staggered through the door. Ruby intuitively poured boiling water on to half a cup of coffee granules.