by May, Nicola
‘Bless Simon, how hard must that be for him?’ Ruby relaxed and gave a chuckle. ‘He must think you look like a bloke.’
‘Yeah, thanks for that, mate. Anyway, the plan is in place. You are coming to the pretend clinic with me on Monday to get me spermed, so to speak, and we go from there. I will of course be going into labour 6 weeks prematurely, but James is a man and I’ve kissed the Blarney Stone so we can blag about it all, as and when necessary.’
‘Oh, Fi. On a positive note, how lovely that you are expecting a baby. I cannot wait to cuddle him or her!’
Ruby jumped up and did a little dance around the carriage. Which had now thankfully emptied or she would surely have been committed by now.
‘Can I be godmother? I mean, the little one already has a godfather. Ha!’
‘You can be whatever you like, madam, as long as you move out of the quiet zone immediately,’ a frosty-looking ticket inspector butted in.
‘Gotta go, mate. Being told off. Catch up later. Lots of love.’
– Chapter Fifty-Six –
Michael’s initial anger had subsided over the ‘the front door incident’ as he liked to call it. Maybe he had jumped to conclusions. He hoped he was a good enough judge of character to know that Ruby wasn’t capable of being unfaithful in a marriage. Yes, that man had looked exactly like George, but he had only seen one photo of the poor bloke. Maybe his mind had taken over rational thinking because his heart was so drawn to this amazing woman. Maybe, too he hadn’t taken the chance to understand enough about grief, in particular losing a partner. He had Googled ‘dating a widow’ the night before and couldn’t believe the amount of stuff that had come up. There were special forums relating to the topic. And he had found it heartening that he wasn’t the only one who was struggling with it.
So that was it, he would see Ruby again. He would be gentle and ask her how she was coping. He had to be with her, there was no question, but first he would arm himself with knowledge. Learn from people who had been through the same as him.
He had one mission - to be the best boyfriend of a widow that he could possibly be.
– Chapter Fifty-Seven –
Monty, the Jack Russell, barked loudly as Ruby clicked open the gate to her mother-in-law’s East End house.
‘Hello, Red, what a lovely surprise,’ Rita said, her welcome genuine. ‘Fancy a cuppa? The kettle’s on. How you been, mate?’
‘I’ve been all right, as it goes, although the man I mentioned who looked like our George and who I dated once or twice didn’t work out quite how I expected.’ Ruby decided she was thirsty. ‘Tea would be lovely, thanks.’
‘Ooh. Last time you had just spotted him in the street. Tell me more.’
Ruby reddened. It felt weird telling her about this.
Rita could sense her angst, and said: ‘Just ‘cos I’ve chosen to be a dry old spinster from now on, don’t mean you ’ave to be, Rubes. You’re young, got your whole life ahead of you. I couldn’t be ’appier to hear of you finding love again. Don’t get me wrong, if it had been minutes after our boy had gone I might ’ave ’ad a word. But not now.’
‘I’ve got a photo of him. It is just so spooky.’
Rita viewed the photo on Ruby’s phone and began to shake. Ruby steadied her and led her to a kitchen chair.
‘I know! I felt the same. It is like looking at George.’
‘Except for that little mole on ’is cheek, ain’t it?’ Tears rolled down Rita’s face.
Ruby wasn’t sure how to react. Rita Stevens’s wasn’t a crier and she was sure she wouldn’t want to be consoled.
‘It’s ’im - I know it’s ’im,’ the woman sobbed.
‘No, no,’ Ruby soothed, tears in her own eyes. ‘It’s not our George, it’s someone who just looks incredibly like him.’
‘That’s what I mean, darling. I’ve done summink terrible.’
Ruby screwed her face up. ‘Terrible? What do you mean?’
Rita sniffed loudly. ‘I was pregnant with twins, see. Me and Alfie were poor as church mice – that was before we set up our business and made a go of it. We made a pact that we would just keep one of ’em. Keep the one who looked like he needed more looking after.’ She could barely speak for crying now.
‘Little George was just so tiny. Just three pounds, had to go into an incubator.
The other bold boy (I couldn’t even bear to name him) was a much healthier five pounds. I knew he’d make it through, you see, so I let him go for adoption. It was the most terrible decision I’ve ever made in my whole life, and I still regret it every minute of every day.’
Ruby welled up. She gripped Rita’s hand.
‘I am SO sorry.’
‘I said to the adoption lady that I didn’t ever want him to find me because I was so ashamed. I asked that they send him to an affluent family so he would want for nothing, get a good education - you know. Make summink of himself.’ She shuddered with grief. ‘For twenty-nine years I have tortured myself, and when our boy was taken, that was my penance. The Good Lord took my Alfie and then our George because I had been so wicked.’ Her voice was high-pitched with emotion, and she wept.
‘No, Rita, no,’ Ruby implored. ‘You are such a kind woman. You did what you thought was right.’
‘But it wasn’t right, was it? We would have managed. People do. And, now I can’t ever change it. I know that is ’im. I just know it.’
‘I think it is him too, now,’ Ruby whispered. ‘He is going to be thirty on September the seventeenth.’
‘Oh, no!’
‘Do you want to meet him? I’m sure I could arrange it.’
‘No, I don’t.’ Rita was adamant. ‘It wouldn’t be right now.’
Ruby breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Promise me you will never tell a soul,’ her mother-in-law said.
‘I promise,’ Ruby vowed
‘So what’s he like, love?’ Rita went on, sounding stronger now. ‘You said earlier that he didn’t turn out how you expected.’
‘He didn’t turn out how I wanted him to be because he was marrying someone else. How dare he, eh?’ Ruby attempted a smile. ‘He is lovely, Rita,’ she lied. ‘Not our George, of course, but he’s a credit to you as his natural mother and to his adoptive parents too.’
Rita laughed through her tears. ‘What does he do?’
‘He works in the City, a big finance job. He’s doing really well.’
‘So he’s having a good life?’
‘Oh, yes. He is a great person and wants for nothing.’ Ruby took another deep breath, fearing that if she told any more lies she might be struck down.
‘That is enough for me, Rubes, coming from your mouth too. I can die ’appy now - and I mean, what a coincidence for you to meet ’im of all people!’
‘I know, it’s millions to one. Our George must be looking down on you. He wanted to put you at peace.’
Ruby put a comforting arm on Rita’s shoulder. And, at that precise moment she realised that her meeting with the city slicker was no doubt a far cry from a perfect coincidence.
– Chapter Fifty-Eight –
Michael pushed open the door to the church hall in trepidation. This had seemed the perfect solution. A self-help group to see you through the trials and tribulations of dating a widow or widower.
The website had stated - The Bow Wow Club – From Struggle to Joy! Well, he was definitely due some joy, that was for sure.
Greeted by a tall friendly black guy who made him feel completely at ease, it looked like he was the first to arrive.
‘So Michael, if it’s OK with you, I’m lacking in content today, so do you mind if we start with your story? Are you a widower?’
‘Erm no, but I’d been dating someone who has lost a husband. That is what this group is all about, isn’t it?’
‘Bloody marvellous, pal.’ Simon shook his hand. ‘Yes, yes, this is why I set this menagerie up. But it seems that the world and God’s dog turn up thinking it’s a bereavement centre.
Which is fine.’ He touched his dog collar. ‘We listen to everyone here, but there are people more specialised than me to deal with grief itself and I don’t think I always send them away with the right message.’
Michael took in Simon’s cropped ginger hair and Glaswegian accent, and thought he would make a great character in his novel. An eccentric vicar - every parish should have one!
People started drifting in and making their way to the kitchenette at the back of the room. He noticed a cleanshaven man in a smart suit who seemed to tic slightly as he sat down. A voluptuous fifty-something woman tried to bring her scruffy black dog to heel, and a good-looking lad who he thought smelled vaguely of woodsmoke mouthed ‘hi’ as he walked past.
He wondered what all of their back stories were. Life was a funny beast. You had to deal with all sorts of obstacles as they cropped up, usually without warning. It would have been so much simpler for him to fall in love with someone who hadn’t been bereaved, but then that would be too easy. There was only one Ruby Stevens and it was she whom he had chosen to love.
‘Right, chop chop!’ the leader shouted. ‘Our delicious red-headed volunteer is en route from the East End and is going to be a bit late, so you have to help yourselves to tea, et cetera. She’d break my balls if we didn’t start on time.’
Everyone grabbed a drink and custard creams and settled into the semi-circle.
‘So, today everyone, I want you to welcome Michael. Say hello to Michael.’
‘Fuck, shit, bollocks,’ Jimmy burst out with, and Cali glared at him. When they were together in the bedroom, there was never so much as a ‘tit’.
This was to be the couple’s last session. But they had wanted to give Simon and Ruby a gift before they left as felt they owed it to them both, for one, transforming Jimmy into a fanciable creature and two, for bringing them together in such a bizarre circumstance.
Luckily, Eric the widower, whom Cali had been dating for a matter of months, had actually seemed quite relieved to be rid of such an insatiable beast.
The Fireman smiled warmly at Michael and gestured to him to go on.
‘So, er. Yes. I’m Michael. I’m thirty-seven years old and I live in Clapham. I’ve been dating a widow since December.’
It felt like he was at some sort of addiction meeting. Well, he was, in a way: addicted to somebody he loved.
Ruby quietly let herself into the back door so as not to disturb the meeting. On seeing the new Bow Wow member, she froze to the spot like a rabbit in headlights. No, she had to be mistaken. It couldn’t be, surely?
She dived into the kitchen and peered over the hatch, then began ducking up and down like a meerkat. She couldn’t let him see her, he would be mortified. It must have taken such courage for him to come here. She tried to catch Simon’s eye and mouth that it was him. She was worried that everyone present might be able to hear her heart beating through her chest.
Michael went on. ‘Her husband had only been dead just over a year when I met her and I literally felt like I was in a tug of war - but with somebody who didn’t exist any more.’ Michael cleared his throat. ‘One minute we were sailing along nicely and the next minute we’d got shipwrecked with no chance of ever carrying on with the voyage. It was then I decided to set her free. You know - let her go and see if love would win. It was a long, agonising wait but I knew it had to be done if I was doing to stay with this beautiful flame-haired creature.’
Simon made a sympathetic face.
‘I thought we were making progress recently because she texted me saying that she missed me and wanted to meet. I couldn’t get through on her phone, so decided to go to her house with her favourite flowers.’
‘Yellow roses?’ Simon was completely absorbed in Michael’s story and missed Ruby’s cut-throat sign to him behind the hatch.
‘Yes, how did you know that?’
‘Because don’t all women like yellow roses? They are a sign of… um… a transitioning relationship, I think,’ Simon blustered, wishing that Ruby had never told him that they were her favourite bloom.
‘Ah, right, you vicars must hear all the stories and know these things.’
‘Please go on,’ Simon urged. The group was transfixed.
‘Well, I rounded the corner to her place and she was on the doorstep kissing a man.’
A united groan.
‘And it wasn’t just any man,’ Simon managed. ‘It was - I think… her dead husband!’
Ruby was so shocked she fell backwards and knocked into a mug tree, causing three of them to smash to the floor with a ginormous clatter. She lay on the lino hoping nobody would investigate, but it was too big a commotion to go unnoticed..
Nick looked over the hatch. She smiled up at him.
‘Ruby! What on earth are you doing?’
She knew her cover was blown. She stumbled up and appeared in the hatch looking dazed.
‘Ruby? What the… ?’
Glowing with embarrassment, Michael stood up, grabbed his open briefcase and ran to the door. In his haste to leave, papers flew out all over the graveyard.
Ruby leaped over the hatch and began to run after him.
‘Michael, I can explain!’
He turned around with tears in his eyes. ‘Explain!’ he shouted from ten feet away. ‘This is something else I didn’t know about you, Ruby. You are obviously the “delicious red-headed volunteer”. So are you shagging someone here too?’
‘Michael, stop it!’ She ran to him.
‘So who was that man? I get a text from you saying you missed me and wanted to see me, and then I see you kissing him! Please tell me the whole dead husband thing is not a charade.’
‘How bloody dare you, Michael Bell. You know how much grief I have been through. You have felt it through my skin. So don’t you ever say that again.’
‘So who is he, then?’
An owl hooted and the leaves rustled on the trees surrounding the graveyard.
‘He’s…’ Ruby remembered her solemn promise to Rita. ‘He’s just someone I know, that’s all. Look, this is just too much.’
‘So, have you slept with him?’
Her anger, combined with guilt, rose as bile in her throat. ‘I don’t feel that you deserve an explanation. I mean, how could you think I would be so cruel as to lie to you about George being dead.’ Ruby turned and stropped back towards the church hall.
‘But you were kissing him!’ Michael screamed at her.
‘Yes, yes, I was, because you weren’t exactly knocking my door down, now were you. I texted you, you ignored me.’
‘My phone wasn’t charged, yours was constantly engaged. I was on my way to see you.’
Ruby pushed her way through the Bow Wowers, who were now dining out on their argument. Michael walked back towards the hall.
‘I don’t want to talk to you.’ Ruby shouted from the doorway.
‘Don’t flatter yourself, love. I’m just coming to pick up my papers.’ He stormed towards the church gate. ‘And to think we had something special. I must have been mad.’
‘OK, show over.’ Simon handed Ruby his vodka mug, which she promptly drained in one.
‘Look, I’m sorry to have mucked up your evening, everyone,’ she said, shamefaced. ‘I’m going to head home.’
‘Tits!’ Jimmy shouted and rushed up to Ruby to give her a hug. ‘If it’s any consolation, I can tell that he loves you. He cared too much about you sleeping with the other one not to. Who is the other one anyway?’
‘Men!’ Ruby shouted on her way out, noticing a stray piece of Michael’s paper that had blown into a tree outside. She stuffed it into her handbag untidily.
***
Stomping up West Hill to home, she clocked a fire engine coming the other way and thought of Nick. Bless the Fireman: whatever happened, he would always understand her.
– Chapter Fifty-Nine –
Margaret was putting a charity bag of clothes outside her front door when Ruby stomped past.
‘Oi, little lady
, what’s wrong?’
‘Margaret, it’s far too late for one of your in-depth chats.’
‘Nah, it’s never too late for you, missy. Come on in for a sherry. It looks like you need one.’
Ruby curled her legs up in the familiar wing chair in front of the fire and took a sip of sherry from the schooner taken from Margaret’s old-fashioned china cabinet.
‘Where’s Bert?’ she asked.
‘Already gone up with his crossword - you know what he’s like.’
‘I’m so glad I sort of got you two together.’
‘He’s an annoying bugger half the time, but I do love him. I still cannot believe he was homeless.’
‘Well, they do say that some people are just one pay cheque away from homelessness. If you don’t have a good support network, that is.’
‘Thankfully, young Ruby, that is what you’ve got, and with what you’ve been through, you’ve bloody needed one. So tell me, why are you looking so troubled, duck?’ The ever-wise Margaret waited for Ruby to tell her about the other morning, rather than jump in.
‘I’m confused.’
‘Men?’
‘What else. And my head is exploding. I have a massive secret which I know I can trust you with, Margaret.’
‘Of course you can. Now come on, just tell me, get it off your chest, duck.’
‘You’ll never guess what, but George had a twin brother.’
‘Do you know what, I saw somebody walk past here the other Saturday and had to sit down because it was such a shocker. He’s a dead ringer, ain’t he?’
‘Yes, he is. It’s such a sad story.’
‘You don’t have to tell me if it’s too difficult.’
‘I need to tell you. I just feel for Rita so much. Basically, she didn’t think that she and Alfie could cope financially with bringing up two babies. Harry, that’s his name. Well, they had him adopted.’
‘That poor woman! So, this all makes sense now. He was the one you saw walk past Piaf’s and bumped into at the bus stop in the East End. Doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.’