The Bow Wow Club

by May, Nicola

‘It gets worse, as I don’t think it is either. To top it all off, I went to a wedding in Windsor - bearing in mind this is after I slept with him.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby, you never learn. How many times do I say keep your bloody legs shut, you hardly know him.’

  ‘I know, I know. Well anyway, it was him getting married at this wedding.’

  ‘No! The little toe-rag. What a complete wrong ’un. So do you think he tracked you down on purpose then?’

  ‘Yeah, I do actually. The fact he was near Piaf’s and then so near Rita’s in Stepney Green… as you say, it would be just too much of a coincidence.’

  ‘But why, duck?’ Margaret drained her glass.

  ‘The root of all evil, of course.’

  ‘Money? I don’t get it.’

  ‘And nor will he, Margaret, nor will he.’

  – Chapter Sixty –

  Michael awoke and groaned at the awful memory of what had happened the night before. The last time he had cried himself to sleep was the night that his mum had died. Not even Emily’s philandering had hurt him as much as the Ruby ‘graveyard incident’. He pulled himself out of bed, reached for his glasses and lit a cigarette. At least he would get a novel out of this painful experience. He had so much bloody material now.

  Let Love Win by Michael Bell

  Chapter 24: Michael opened his briefcase and began straightening out the pages of his novel that had been strewn all over the church hall and graveyard. Thank goodness he had managed to get them all. Well, he hoped he had anyway. Then ‘Damn it!’ Page 85 was missing. It had been windy so he guessed he was lucky only to have lost one. He would just print it off again when he was at Rural Writers’ next week. He just found it so much easier to edit in hard copy rather than on the screen.

  This aimless task, however, didn’t distract him from his turmoil within. This had to be it now. She would hate him. The hurt and anger in Ruby’s eyes had been so great. I mean, how could he have been so stupid to accuse her of lying about George being dead. Yes, he had only seen the wedding photo once, but that other guy had looked identical to George, he was sure of it.

  Oh, why had he been so stupid. He lay back on his bed and thought through the whole sorry scenario of earlier. Ruby had been right. He had felt her grief through her skin. Had held her beautiful soft body whilst sobs of pure emotion had engulfed her. And the embarrassment of The Bow Wow Club. Why hadn’t she mentioned that she was volunteering there? Such a lovely thing to do. He then remembered accusing her of sleeping with the vicar too. I mean, as if a man of God would sleep with a woman out of wedlock!

  ‘Michael, Michael - I’m home.’ Emily’s whiny voice rose up the stairs. ‘What are you doing, pretending to write a book again?’

  ‘Yes, I’m writing.’ His voice was monotone. He closed his eyes momentarily and thought of the very first night he had spent with Ruby in the Soho Hotel. When he had made love to her it just felt so right. Like they fitted together. And her smell. How he loved her smell. He loved cuddling up to her from behind when she was just dropping off to sleep. They fitted together perfectly, like Lego bricks. And when he woke at half-light and looked over to the contours of her sleeping face he just felt warm inside. In his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She felt right. It felt right - and despite the fact he had seen another man so obviously kissing her, now he had made everything irredeemably wrong.

  Emily bounded into the bedroom and threw several coloured shopping bags on to the bed.

  ‘Darling, I’ve found the most amazing maternity-wear shop. Everything is just so trendy. Even the underwear is to die for.’

  ‘Show me,’ Michael said quite roughly, annoyed that she was frittering away money they really didn’t have again.

  She began to pull clothes out of the bags.

  ‘No - show me the underwear on you now.’

  Emily looked at him and could see his sexual hunger.

  ‘Michael? It’s not like you to be so naughty on a Friday morning. I like it.’

  ‘Just do as you are told.’

  Emily was already aroused at his demands and quickly got herself into matching a cream and pale pink lace bra and panties, her perfect pregnancy bump evident now.

  It was over in minutes. There was no Lego brick spooning afterwards. Emily just jumped straight off the panting Michael and ran to the bathroom to shower.

  Michael lay back on the bed feeling thoroughly depressed. Without Ruby his life was a darker place. He had no escape route now. His love for her would have made him make the step to leave his selfish wife. But now, perfunctory fucking with no real love and a baby he didn’t even want was his future and he would just have to man up and get on with it.

  Michael had an appointment with the editor of a magazine so didn’t have time to address his sexual arousal. He couldn’t believe that every time he wrote a sex scene, he got a hard-on. Whilst wondering if writers of erotic fiction spent half their days masturbating, his mobile rang, making him jump.

  He didn’t recognise the number, but on sudden recognition of the voice coming back at him, he felt his heart shift like a tectonic plate.

  ‘Michael? Is that you? It’s Emily. I really need to see you.’

  – Chapter Sixty-One –

  Harry sheepishly pushed open the gate to the East End graveyard. The bunch of flowers he was carrying was nearly as big as him. He turned left and walked down to the bottom fence where a row of tall fir trees protected the many beautiful souls within. He saw Ruby; a lone figure crouched down chatting away to a white marble headstone. As soon as she saw Harry, she leaped up and brushed herself down.

  ‘I don’t think there are enough vases.’ She blushed at being caught in such a private moment.

  ‘No, these are for you. Here, let me lay them down here.’ He put them gently down on to the grave and noticed the wording on the headstone.

  George Stevens. Dearly beloved husband and son. Sleep softly in our hearts.

  He sniffed loudly. ‘That’s beautiful. Did you choose those words?’

  Ruby nodded and exhaled deeply, thinking how sad it was that she couldn’t have added the words ‘brother’ or ‘father’.

  She felt at peace here, and without fail if she was visiting Rita, she would pop along to the Stepney Green churchyard and leave a single yellow rose on George’s final resting-place. When he had first died she would make a weekly pilgrimage, despite it taking nearly three hours out of her day. As time had gone on it was monthly but this year she had made the decision that she would visit on birthdays, at Christmas and their significant anniversaries, plus of course whenever she visited Rita.

  George’s mum religiously kept the plot immaculate which put Ruby at peace and alleviated her guilt of not visiting so much any more.

  Ruby ushered Harry to a nearby bench. He noticed the plaque along the back of it. In memory of Ralph Weeks, still taking wickets in Heaven.

  ‘Why are people so mean to each other in life when this is where we all end up?’

  ‘You tell me that, Harry.’

  ‘I set myself up for that one, didn’t I? I am so sorry, Ruby - but I hope I can explain.’

  ‘Explain away. All I can say is that I am glad what we had was just a casual fling or I might not be quite so calm with you now.’

  Ruby noticed his shiny new wedding ring as he started his sorry tale.

  ‘I found out I was adopted when I was very young. Mum and Dad are great and have always been completely open. When I got to eighteen my inquisitive nature got the better of me and I just had to know who my real parents were. The fact I was informed that my real mother did not want to be contacted made me even more determined.

  ‘I took it on myself to find out everything I could about my heritage without anyone else knowing, so I would not cause any hurt. I even saw George when he was alive.’ Ruby gasped. ‘It was before you two got it together. He was at college. I knew that we could never meet face-to-face as he would so obviously suss we were twins, and Rita would ge
t hurt. I literally sat in the back of a student bar, astounded at how alike we were in looks, anyway.’

  Ruby couldn’t believe how surreal this situation was. Here she was, sitting on a bench with somebody who could quite easily pass as George. She had made sure that Rita was doing her shift in the local charity shop before arranging to meet Harry here. It would have just been too distressing for the woman to be faced with her other son.

  ‘I love Rita, Ruby. What a good woman. I am proud to call her my real mum. I have seen her from afar in so many situations it breaks my heart. I even was behind the trees here at my real dad’s funeral.’ He pointed to the fir trees. ‘But I also respect her wishes. I know she would feel ashamed if it came out in the community about me, but she has no need to. It’s just so sad, but I do understand. She is a proud woman too. It would be too much to bear if people started judging her for her decision. I know that.’

  ‘So why have a relationship with me? You must have seen how hurt I was, if you were still stalking us throughout our marriage, of course.’ Ruby put her hands through her fringe. ‘I really can’t believe you did that, Harry. It’s too weird.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to understand. Look - I’m going to be honest with you because I like you, Ruby. I didn’t think I would. I mean, I have never been out with a ginger in my life before.’

  ‘OK, OK, stop the shallow, unfunny crap and be honest with me then.’

  ‘In a word, money.’

  ‘I bloody knew it, you scheming little shit. All those innocent questions when we were out for dinner, about me being looked after by George financially. You just wanted a piece of the pie.’

  ‘Yep. I thought that I would surely get some of the inheritance, what with being a one hundred per cent blood brother. I had lost track of where George was living as he was renting for a long while, but I followed you from Rita’s one day and saw that you seemed to visit that Piaf’s café a lot. That’s when I hatched my plan. I knew that if I could get close to you, you would be so overwhelmed by my similarity to your Gorgeous George, you would spill everything about finances, et cetera and I could take what I could.’

  ‘You complete and utter bastard.’

  ‘Yes, I’m a wanker. But things didn’t go quite as planned, as not only do I like you. I fell for you too. Mad, I know. I’ve been with Lucy for seven years and don’t regret marrying her for a second. But, then there was you. The spirited, funny and feisty Ruby Stevens. My brother was a lucky boy. And if you hadn’t busted me at the wedding, I would have tried to sleep with you again, married or not.’

  ‘Your poor wife.’

  ‘She doesn’t deserve me, I know. I am completely ashamed now at my behaviour. You, George, Rita and my real dad are/were all bloody good people. How dare I upset you. So all I can do is say how truly sorry I am. You will never see me again, I promise that. I won’t check on what Rita is doing any more either. If she had ever caught sight of me, I know that it might have killed her. We - me and Lucy, that is - are flying to Geneva tomorrow anyway. I’ve got a new job. The plan is to build a new life, and for me to earn as much money as I can legitimately so that we can start a family.’

  Ruby was beyond anger. She stood up silently and walked towards George’s grave. Harry followed.

  ‘Say goodbye to your brother,’ she whispered venomously. ‘Because what you just said means you can never come here again either.’

  ‘I know that.’ Harry’s voice was cracked with emotion. He touched the marble headstone. ‘It’s never goodbye, mate, just see you later.’

  Ruby started to cry. It was as if she was having to say farewell to her George all over again. Harry rushed to comfort her. She halted him with her hand. ‘No. Please don’t. I don’t need anything from you. Ever! Goodbye, Harry.’

  ‘Be happy, Ruby,’ he replied. Then he discreetly dropped something into the top of the bouquet of flowers that were still lying on the ground. Leaving Ruby deep in her thoughts, he walked back up to the car park.

  He hoped she would be pleased when she found it. It was an act of kindness of sorts, he thought - giving something back when he had been so wicked.

  The day he had set up the stealing of her handbag in London, he had expected to find her address and bank details.

  But what he didn’t expect to find was the treasured wedding ring that his twin brother had so lovingly given to her.

  – Chapter Sixty-Two –

  Ruby opened her front door and threw her keys on to the kitchen table. What a morning! She looked at herself in the mirror above the fireplace and grimaced as her red-eyed, blotchy face looked back at her.

  Harry would be packing up his life in the UK. It was such a relief for her that he was moving overseas. She could put the whole sorry affair behind her. Guilt flowers as well? I mean, what was he thinking of. She couldn’t bear the thought of having them in the house as it would remind her too much of his evil ways. So she had just left them on George’s grave. She didn’t like seeing bouquets on graves as a rule, but as there were no spare vases she thought for this once it wouldn’t matter, and Rita could clear the old paper and dried stems away when she next visited.

  She picked up the wedding photo from the fireplace and held it to her chest.

  ‘Oh Georgie boy, what a mess. How you would have loved to have had a twin brother, and if he had been brought up with you, how different he might have been.’ Nature, nurture had a lot to answer for, she was sure.

  She was hungry and scrabbled in her handbag looking for a cereal bar she had put in there that morning. Along with a couple of used tissues and an old train ticket, she brought out a screwed-up piece of A4 paper. The terrible memory of the recent fight with Michael in the graveyard crossed her mind. She flicked on the kettle and unfurled the crumpled document.

  On noticing the page header she gulped, then began to read hungrily.

  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 then? 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, tears for her dead husband that 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.

  Ruby wanted to read more. What a dark horse that Michael Bell was. Mind you, she hadn’t told him she was going to the Bow Wow Club. It was quite a nice quality in a brand new relationship that you didn’t feel you had to share everything in your life straight away. Kept it fresh. Her mum always said to her to keep a bit back at first, to let them wonder and want.

  She made herself a cup of tea, reached for the custard creams and reread the page again. Bless him, wanting to put a homing device on her. Bless him, wanting to scoop her up and protect her forever. He obviously did love her. And as for the wedding ring, she had no idea how much of a barrier that had been. He had been so patient with her, it must have been so painful for him too. And there she was so wrapped up in her own grief and misery she didn’t even notice. Why on earth had she not given this kind, lovely man a chance? But no, in true pre-wedding Ruby Matthews style she had cast aside a deep love for a shallow dalliance with someone who took h
er eye. Granted he was the spitting image of the love of her life, but it had still been wrong. Why hadn’t she taken heed of Tony Choi’s so obviously fixed fortune cookie - ‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.’ If she started using her head and not that butterfly heart of hers, she would find true love again. In fact, it had been staring her in the face all along, and because of her bloody-mindedness and to be fair her ‘grief glasses’, she had mucked up again.

  Michael had had every right to be angry. Harry could quite easily have passed as George and he had kissed her at the door. Now she truly realised how much he loved her, of course he would be upset, jump to conclusions. But even after this he had taken it on himself to go to the Bow Wow Club to try to learn how to make things right again. What a man!

  A man writing a romance novel as well. She loved that idea. From the little piece she had read, he was good too. Rather than being annoyed that he was taking their love affair as the main plot, she was rather flattered. I mean, who wouldn’t want a mention in a book. She just hoped he wasn’t too graphic about their sex scenes, Ruby thought. Her mother might read it!

  She had to give Michael another chance. He gave her ‘the love feeling’ when they were in bed. He was sexy, good and kind - and most importantly, he loved her warts and all. Yes, that was it. She would finish off the wedding dress she had been working on and have a good night’s sleep to try and make herself look a little more human. Then, in the morning, she would go to him.

  She always harped on about men coming to her. But no, this was different. She had wronged Michael when all he wanted to do was make her happy. Now, to find his address…

  She ran to her messy drawer and began to hunt for the business card he had given her all those months ago on that cold December day.

  ‘Watch out, Mr Strong Hands,’ she said aloud. ‘Ruby Stevens is coming to get you.’

  – Chapter Sixty-Three –

  ‘You sound weird, Rubes.’ Fi always called at inappropriate moments.