Nobody’s Darling

by Nobody’s Darling (retail) (epub)

  ‘You’d best get off or you’ll miss your tram,’ Lizzie said. ‘Leave the childer to me, and remember what I said… if they don’t pay you for the extra time, then you’re never to do it again. I’ll not stand for it.’ Like Ruby, Lizzie had been deeply humiliated by what had just taken place, but she wouldn’t let Ruby know it for the world. She was close to tears, and on top of that was the fact that Ruby was becoming more and more attached to Jeffrey Banks’s daughter who, unbeknown to Ruby, was her half-sister. By! If there was a way she could get Ruby away from that house without arousing suspicion, Lizzie would have done it long ago. But there was no easy way. And, like Ruby said, they badly needed the wages she earned, because now with Ted out of work and Lizzie’s crafty savings almost gone, the money the lass brought home was all that kept them from the workhouse. ‘And put yer coat on, ’cause it’s bound to rain,’ she instructed impatiently, muttering under her breath, ‘Pissy weather for July!’ When there came a bumping sound from the back bedroom, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘The buggers are awake,’ she groaned.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right, Mam?’ Ruby asked. She had hated the scene out in the street just now, and sensed that her mam was hiding her real feelings. Going to the parlour door she took her long-coat down and shrugged herself into it. Usually her mam was a bundle of good nature in the mornings, but today she was troubled and irritable. ‘I can stay behind and help you with the young ’uns if you want?’ Ruby suggested. She sighed within herself when Lizzie shook her head. ‘Be off with yer,’ was all she said. And Ruby didn’t need telling twice, because hadn’t she got a very important thing to do this morning? Something that would hopefully make that awful scene the last of its kind.

  When Ruby came to kiss her goodbye, Lizzie clung on to her, saying grimly, ‘Aw, lass, I pray your dad’ll find work.’

  ‘He will,’ Ruby promised. At the front door, she paused and listened, thinking she could hear her mam softly crying. All the way down Fisher Street then on to the tram-stop, Ruby prayed that she wasn’t promising the impossible.

  * * *

  The tram was only half full. The recent laying off of labour made itself felt in the empty seats that once had been filled, and there was a strange quietness where once there had been a busy murmur of conversation. There was something soul-destroying about being put out of work, and something equally soul-destroying about being left in work when a neighbour was made idle; though it was the lesser of two evils. All the same, on this particular morning there were still a number of mill-workers and foundry folk all making their way to work, neighbours from Ruby’s own street who knew and exchanged greetings with her, and those who were strangers yet nodded and wished her ‘good morning’. But there was no sign of Johnny. In her secret heart, Ruby had hoped he might be travelling on the same tram.

  It was just coming up to seven when she came in sight of Billenge House, a sprawling homely place situated at the top of Billenge End which led from Preston New Road. All the way along the lanes she’d expected at any minute to see Johnny making his way to Arnold Lodge, which was en route, but he was nowhere in sight and she supposed he must have caught an earlier tram, In one way she regretted not having met him, then in another she was glad. Lately, he was taking up too much of her thoughts, and there was no good could come of it.

  Turning in through the stone pillars, she went at a run down the wide carriageway that led to the stables and the back of the house; there were no horses kept here because no one rode. Neither Mr Banks nor his daughter had any yearning to hunt, and as they each preferred to stroll the few hundred yards to hail a carriage on Preston New Road, there was also no need for a carriage, although there was one gathering dust in the far stable, a magnificent black ensemble with plush red leather and handsome wooden wheels. There had been a time years back when the carriage was in constant use and in the rooms above the stables had lived a groom whose job it was to keep ready the two bay geldings; now, though, the groom was employed elsewhere and the geldings pulled one of Thwaites’ beer wagons. The carriage, however, had remained, to rot and rust, growing old alongside its owner. Its usefulness was long gone, its wheels never turning against the cobbles, nor the crack of a whip urging it ever onward. Once it was a part of daily life; once it had swiftly and efficiently carried out its duties, employed in the routine transportation of Mr Banks to his foundry. It was dressed in black silk and ribbons when they laid old Mr Banks to rest, and it had rushed the doctor to Cicely’s birthing some eighteen years before. There had been only one more duty. Soon after the child came into the world and brought her father joy, the mother went out of their lives and brought him sadness.

  It was said that she had been deeply disturbed by the trauma of Cicely’s birth, but whatever the reasons for Anne Banks’s untimely disappearance, she died in a train-crash before she could explain them, leaving Mr Banks a widower and his daughter without a mother. The carriage which took her to Blackburn Railway Station had stood isolated and unused from that day to this. Only Cicely ever went near it, and that was when her father was out of the house. On these occasions she would sit in the leather seat and imagine how her mother must have felt on the night she ran away. All manner of questions would race through her mind, and she would wonder how any woman could leave a child so newly born, and desert a man who professed to idolise her.

  Billenge House was not a grand place. Instead, it was homely and welcoming, a low-roofed dwelling with several dormer windows, and lovely gardens all around. Inside the furniture was serviceable and much used: delightful bureaus and light-coloured walnut dressers with fine curved legs, comfortable floral-covered settees that cocooned you when you sat down, and all over the house the windows were dressed in pretty curtains depicting garden scenes and fine ladies beneath parasols.

  Cook gaped open-mouthed when Ruby came rushing in through the back door. ‘Good Lord above!’ she exclaimed. ‘You gave me a fright. Whatever are you doing here so early?’ She glanced at the big old clock on the wall whose face was round as her own, and saw that it was not yet seven. ‘You haven’t wet the bed, have you?’ she asked in a chuckle.

  ‘Course not!’ Ruby declared, and her sharp answer brought her a severe look from Cook, a large and formidable lady who liked to exercise order in her own kitchen. ‘It’s just that – well, I wanted to see Miss Cicely,’ Ruby explained in a more subdued voice. She didn’t want to upset Cook, not when as a rule they got on so well. ‘And I thought you might have need of me, what with the tea-party this afternoon and everything,’ she quickly added. Occasionally Cicely was obliged to please her father by receiving a number of ‘guests’ for tea; wives of prominent citizens and, as Cicely herself put it, ‘intrusive and nosy individuals’.

  ‘Hmmh.’ Cook regarded Ruby through curious eyes. ‘Can’t say I’ve ever heard of a servant coming in early to help out without being paid.’ A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she squinted her bright merry eyes into a scowl. ‘You’re not being paid, are you? I mean, you’ve not been asked behind my back, have you?’ She prided herself on knowing everything that went on in this. If there was extra money being paid out, then she should be first in line.

  ‘No, I’ve not been asked to come in early, and I’ve not been offered more money neither.’ Ruby was well aware of what was going through Cook’s mind. ‘Like I said, I thought you might be glad of me, and I really do need to have a word with Miss Cicely.’

  ‘I’ve never known such goings on,’ Cook tutted loudly, mimicking Ruby in an unkindly fashion. ‘ “Need to have a word with Miss Cicely’’ indeed! She shouldn’t encourage you in the way she does, and you shouldn’t take advantage of her lonely disposition.’ She continued to glare at Ruby, but when she saw that her words were not having the desired effect, she tutted again, adding sourly, ‘She’ll not be properly dressed yet, and anyway I dare say there’ll be time enough during the day when you can have a quick word with the mistress. Goodness knows she seems to have taken a very unhealthy liki
ng towards you.’ She was a little bit jealous.

  Wisely ignoring Cook’s attempt to antagonise her, Ruby went into the pantry. A moment later she reappeared, wearing a dark ankle-length dress and a little white pinafore. Her thick dark-brown hair was pressed down beneath a frilly white mop-cap, and while she busily fastened the upper corners of the apron to the bib of her dress, she noticed the suspicious manner in which Cook was observing her. ‘Is it all right then, if I go and see Miss Cicely now?’ she asked respectfully.

  ‘Huh! If I say no, you’ll probably sneak away from your duties to see her, and if I say yes, you’ll happen not be back down here within the hour.’ It was obvious to Ruby that Cook had got out of the wrong side of the bed, especially when she added with a grunt, ‘Pardon me if I seem difficult, Ruby Miller, but I was given to understand that you were employed here as general help, not as M’lady’s maid.’

  ‘I’ll only be a minute.’

  ‘And that’s all you’d better be! I can’t stop you, I suppose, being as it’s your own time.’ Her voice changed. ‘All the same, I could do with an extra pair of hands this morning, what with jellies to make and cakes to mix.’ She had been rolling the pastry on the pine table, but now she threw out her two hands and the flour shot into the air in a fine white spray. ‘Go on, and be quick!’ she ordered. ‘And while you’re at it, knock on that lazy girl’s attic door.’ She glanced up at the clock again. ‘See that? It’s gone seven and there’s still no sign of the wretched creature. In another hour the master and mistress will be coming down them stairs wanting their breakfasts. The table’s not yet laid, nor the dresser set out. On top of that, there’s a chill in the air, so happen the fire should be lit.’ With a noisy sigh, she plunged her hands into the flour bowl and sent up a mushroom of flour which tickled her nose and made her sneeze. She was still complaining when Ruby sneaked out of the room to make her way upstairs.

  On the way she crossed paths with the parlour-maid, a grim-faced soul with a thin piping voice. Above the sound of the grandfather clock which was presently striking seven, she wailed at Ruby, ‘I expect the ol’ bugger’s moaning, taking notice of that kitchen clock, which she deliberately sets fast. Well, I ain’t late, so I’m not hurrying.’ And she didn’t. Ruby suspected the rebellious girl might come to regret it.

  As Ruby had thought, Cicely was already awake and dressed. When the tap came on the door, she recognised it at once, quickly flinging open the door and showing great surprise when she saw it actually was Ruby there. ‘You’re early,’ she exclaimed, her narrow face alight with pleasure. Suddenly the smile fell away as she asked with concern, ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there, Ruby? Your family are well, are they not?’ While she spoke, she ushered Ruby inside.

  The room was bright and spacious, simply furnished according to the young lady’s taste; there was a large bed which was covered with a pretty floral eiderdown, a small oak dresser whose surface was filled with dainty little artefacts including a large china powder bowl, the most beautiful silver brush and comb set, hairpins and other such things as might suit the purposes of a gentlewoman; two tall oak wardrobes stood against one wall and a large cream patterned carpet covered most of the polished floorboards. The deep window-sills were filled with all manner of toys; brown teddy-bears, brightly painted wooden carousels, and a porcelain doll with a look of childish innocence that always put Ruby in mind of Miss Cicely herself; with its long fair hair and clear blue eyes, it was tall and elegant, softly rounded in all the right places, and except for the occasions when it was duly dusted, the doll was rarely moved from the sill, where it had lain these many years. In comparison, Miss Cicely could often be found in her room, and would only leave the house when circumstances obliged her to.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me bothering you, Miss Cicely, but I need to have a quiet word before the master sets off for the foundry.’ Ruby knew Mr Banks’s routine well. Mondays and Tuesdays he worked from his office at Billenge House, Wednesday was given over to receiving certain men of authority in his employ, Thursday was the day when he either rested in his room, strolled the surrounding countryside, or travelled into town to see his accountant or financial adviser. Friday was always the same; every Friday since Ruby had come to work at the house, and probably every Friday before then, Jeffrey Banks attended personally to his foundry in the heart of Blackburn.

  Today was Friday, and the reason for Ruby coming in early. Before her courage failed her, or before she might forget everything she had silently rehearsed on the way here, she quickly spilled out the story, feeling so nervous that the words tumbled one over the other and made her breathless. ‘Miss Cicely, I expect you remember me asking a while back whether there were any vacancies at your dad’s foundry?’

  Cicely looked puzzled, but then she smiled and nodded and Ruby went on, ‘Well, I weren’t just being nosy. There was a reason You see, my dad was finished at Arnold’s foundry some weeks back, and every day since he’s trudged morning and night from one end of Blackburn to the other, and still he ain’t found work. It’s bad, Miss Cicely, ’cause there’s only my wages coming in and it’s hard for Mam to keep us fed and pay the rent and Dad don’t know what to do next, and Lottie has to have new boots, and the coalman won’t leave coal no more because Mam still owes him, and…’

  Her voice broke, and feeling deeply ashamed that she was made to confide such private things to this quiet lovely creature, she cast her gaze to the floor, adding lamely, ‘I was wondering whether you could please ask your dad if he could find work for one more man?’ She looked up then. ‘He’s a good worker, Miss Cicely… the best!’ Having humiliated herself, there were tears in her deep blue eyes, but the pride shone through. ‘You only have to ask anybody and they’ll tell you that Ted Miller would break his back to do a good day’s work.’

  In characteristic manner, Cicely reached out and placed her hand on Ruby’s shoulder. ‘If your father is anything like you, Ruby, he must be a real asset to any employer.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Cicely.’ Ruby’s embarrassment quickly melted beneath the gaze from those soft pale blue eyes. ‘Will you ask your dad then?’

  ‘I will ask him, you know that,’ came the reply. ‘But you must also know that there are the beginnings of a depression, and my father has said that employers are more cautious about taking men.’

  ‘But you will ask?’ Ruby boldly insisted.

  ‘I’ll do it this very minute.’ She paused before asking the next question, because she knew how fiercely proud Ruby was and how it must have cost her dearly to bare her heart just now. Yet she also knew that Ruby saw herself as being responsible for her family, so was encouraged to speak what was on her own mind. ‘Ruby?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Cicely?’

  ‘Your family is going through a hard time, I think. Won’t you let me help?’ She felt Ruby’s shoulder stiffen beneath her touch and instantly regretted her offer. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said simply, drawing her hand away. ‘I meant well.’

  ‘I know. And you mustn’t think I’m not grateful.’

  ‘But you won’t let me help?’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘Us Millers have never taken charity. We’ve always worked for what we’ve got. That’s all my dad wants now… a chance to work.’

  ‘I understand, Ruby, and I’ll do what I can.’

  I know. Thank you, Miss Cicely.’ She stepped away then ‘I’d better get back down to the kitchen. There’s a deal of work to be done, and Cook needs me to help her get ready for your tea-party this afternoon.’

  Cicely groaned. ‘Think yourself fortunate you don’t have to endure such trials,’ she said, and Ruby agreed.

  ‘Will you let me know what the master says?’ Ruby wouldn’t rest until she knew.

  Cicely nodded her head, half-smiling as she quietly regarded this young girl whom circumstances had matured before her time. Cicely thought it wouldn’t be long before Ruby was snatched up by some handsome young man who would cherish her forever. With dark blue eyes and strong
proud features, she would stand out in a crowd. There was something else too, something that set Ruby above other girls of her own age; it shone out of her, like a light from within, a kind of strength and determination which told the world that here was a force to be reckoned with. Yet she was good and loyal, and it was that which had first drawn Cicely Banks to befriend her. She had never regretted it, because now in spite of the differences between them and the fortunes bestowed on them by accident of birth, she had come to love Ruby almost like a sister. ‘Don’t worry,’ she told her now. ‘As soon as I’ve spoken to my father, I’ll come and find you. But please, Ruby… don’t let yourself be too disappointed if my errand isn’t successful.’

  She daren’t think on it. Nor could she speak just then. Biting er lip, she merely inclined her head to let the young woman know she understood. Then, with her heart in her mouth, she retraced her steps to the kitchen where Cook received her with an anguished cry, ‘About time too!’ She was in the act of grabbing a cloth to wrap round the great pan on the stove, and with the deftness born of practice, lifted it from the heat effortlessly. ‘I’ve only got one pair of hands,’ she complained bitterly, ‘and just when I need you most, both you and that useless article of a girl go missing. Must I do everything myself?’

  ‘I was as quick as ever,’ Ruby protested.

  ‘Well, you weren’t quick enough then, were you?’ Cook glanced at the table. ‘See that?’ she asked sullenly. ‘I’m not paid to work myself into the ground, you know. You can be sure I’ll have something to say to the pair of you when this little lot’s been seen to.’ Cook had been desperately busy in Ruby’s absence, because the tureens which were standing on the table when Ruby first arrived, were now set out in a more orderly fashion, with their lids tipped to one side. Soon they would need to be filled and sent up by dummy-waiter to the dining room, the many aromas of freshly cooked kippers, muffins browning in the oven, bacon sizzling on the hob and newly-baked bread all mingled together as Cook darted about, lifting lids and opening doors and getting herself in a dire state.