A Promise Between Friends (22 page)

‘It was meant to be,’ cooed Stuart. ‘Now, darling, don’t leave it too long before we speak again.’

After yet more hugs and kisses, Ruby found herself outside on the pavement with Nick and Kath. She noticed that Bernie had already climbed into his old car parked in front of the Buick.

‘Better be off,’ Kath said, rolling her eyes. ‘And I’m sure you both have a lot of catching up to do.’

Ruby smiled, glancing shyly up at Nick. ‘Yes, that’s true.’

‘Me and Bernie will call at your mum’s and tell Maggs you’ve decided to take a day off and I’ve persuaded you to stay the night at my place.’

‘But will she believe you?’

‘I’ll make sure she does. Remember, Maggs told you that she’d cook your dad’s dinner. And for once your dad will have to stay home and do the honours. Looking after your
mum for one evening won’t kill him. And Maggs will be on the doorstep to take over early tomorrow. So you two now have no excuse not to be with each other.’

‘Yes, darling, Kath’s right,’ Nick agreed, pulling Ruby close. ‘We’ll go to Angelo’s for dinner, then go back to my place.’

Ruby looked up into his brown eyes as butterflies flew wildly in her tummy. Angelo’s. The Italian restaurant that he had introduced her to and which they had made their own. Once again,
she felt tearful. She had missed him so much and now there was an explanation as to why he hadn’t come after her. So why was she hesitating?

‘Hurry up, Kath,’ Bernie shouted from the car. ‘This motor is guzzling the juice.’

‘Bye,’ said Kath, pushing Ruby towards the Buick. ‘Leave everything to me and Maggs.’

Nick took Ruby’s hand. ‘Say goodbye to your friends, darling.’

As Ruby waved to the faces gazing out at them, Kath jumped into Bernie’s car. With a roar it sped off in a cloud of black smoke.

‘What are we waiting for?’ Nick said in a husky voice. ‘I want to make the most of every minute now that I have you all to myself.’ Ruby wanted to say that this was the
best surprise she had ever had. Nothing else could compare to seeing Nick again. And to think that now she had him for a whole day and night, thanks to her best friend, Kath.

Nick was pleased to see that, as requested, Angelo had reserved them a secluded table in the corner. He felt truly remiss at the way he had neglected to find Ruby, but his
business disputes with Anna had been overtaken by a far more personal issue. Then, two weeks ago, in Soho, he’d bumped into Kath, of all people, a stately, willowy figure he couldn’t
miss in the crowd. He’d asked after Ruby and taken her for a coffee, there to arrange today’s get-together. The meeting was perfect timing. An unforeseen answer to a problem he’d
been wrestling with for some time.

Nick gazed across the table at the young woman seated opposite him. Ruby hadn’t lost her charm, though he could see that Anna’s influence had rather gone by the board. If Anna was
nothing else, she could certainly turn out a professional product. The grey suit and fur collar Ruby had chosen to wear didn’t do her justice. The light in her lovely blue eyes occasionally
sparkled, but then often she would look away from his gaze. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. But he intended to find out.

He smiled, showing his white teeth fleetingly. ‘Happy, darling?’

‘Yes, very.’

‘I hope so. I want tonight to be very special.’

‘Oh Nick. So much has happened. I’ve lots to tell you.’

‘Wait until we get home. We’ll make ourselves comfortable. And we’ll talk over every last detail.’

He grinned again, touching her hand, pleased that so far the day had gone satisfactorily. They’d enjoyed their meal of Angelo’s house spaghetti bolognese followed by whipped Italian
ice cream sprinkled with nuts and chocolate, which he knew was Ruby’s favourite. He’d told Angelo he wanted this occasion to be very special. And he’d been pleased to see that
Angelo had reserved them an intimate table in the corner. Complete with a slim lit candle and a vase of tiny red roses that he’d ordered especially, the mood was suitably romantic. He reached
across to grasp Ruby’s hand. ‘You look very lovely.’

Ruby smiled. ‘I wish you had warned me to wear something nice.’

‘If I had, I would have spoiled Kath’s surprise.’ He lifted a finger to scoop away the tear that slipped down her cheek. As he did so, the other diners looked round to wonder
why the lights had suddenly dimmed. A small group of musicians appeared at their table, two with violins, the other with a guitar. They began to play a love song and he sat back, enjoying the way
everyone in the restaurant was gazing at Ruby. She was a natural beauty. If he won her trust, then what was to stop his success?

He plucked one of the tiny red buds from the vase. ‘For you, my darling, the most endearingly beautiful of roses.’

He knew that was what she wanted to hear. What any woman would want to hear.

Bernie stirred his tea thoughtfully, recalling the happy hours he’d spent at this prefab many moons ago. He’d helped Mr Payne in the back yard, in the days when
there was a garden of sorts. When spuds had shot up beside the marigolds and wallflowers had spilled over the garden path. In those days, him and Pete had skived a good few days off school as they
had in Devon. It had been easier there. The teachers were always pleased to see the backsides of the dirty, smelly East End kids. And if they played truant, well so be it.

Pete was always up the library though, his head in a book. Doing it his own way. Always wanting to learn. He’d liked poetry too, but that was something he kept to himself; Pete had a soft
side to him he didn’t reveal to many. They had shared a lot as kids, but all that was to stop when Pete got his job with the toffs.

Bernie fidgeted restlessly as he sat with Mrs Payne and his sister. He knew that Kath wouldn’t leave her till Mr P got home. And even though Maggs had been reluctant to go, saying
she’d cook dinner, Pete knew Kath was determined to get Mr P’s attention. To persuade him back into caring for his wife and sharing the load with Ruby. But looking at Mrs P now, Bernie
doubted she was ever going to be the same again. She had that hollow, vacant look that sick people got and yellowy skin that made the bags under her eyes look like little purple pillows.

Bernie gulped down his tea. Mrs P hadn’t stopped rabbiting on about Pete. Well, he didn’t mind that. But it was the same thing over and over again. How Pete always brought home the
bacon. How her boy never failed to bung her a regular few quid. How he’d tell her she was the best mum in the world and what he was going to do when he made his mint. He’d pack Mr and
Mrs P off on the holiday of a lifetime. All round the world on a bloody cruise! Come to think of it, not a murmur of Ruby, who was doing the hard graft here. Her dad would have been well and truly
shafted if Ruby hadn’t come home. And that was a fact, Bernie thought, trying to dampen his irritation at Babs Payne’s whining voice: Pete this. Pete that. Saint flaming Pete.

‘Mind if I use the john, Mrs P?’ Bernie asked, suddenly standing up. ‘All this rosie is doing me bladder in.’

Mrs P looked up at him. ‘Course, love. And on your way tell Pete it’s teatime. He’ll be in his room, playing his music.’

Bernie glanced at his sister. She gave him an imperceptible shrug.

‘Yeah, course.’ He made his escape, closing the frontroom door softly behind him. He could hear Kath’s voice, then Mrs P’s. He thought how he’d soon be round the
bend too, if he was here much longer.

He fished for his fags in his pocket. Soon he was gulping back smoke, enjoying the nicotine kick. He’d given up so many times, like Kath had. Penny didn’t smoke, insisting it was a
killer for the dancing. Now he was even more self-conscious of the habit. Especially round Ruby.

Bernie paced the small hall, thinking of her and trying not to. He’d got a right old headache when he’d seen the way that character had slobbered over her!

Bernie closed his eyes, trying to dismiss the picture of Ruby in the smarmy geezer’s arms. He’d seen them in the driving mirror. Standing on the pavement all over each other. What
did she see in the charmer? What did Nick bloody Brandon have that he didn’t have? The spiel, that was it. The money and the motor. Bernie had to admit the Buick was some runner – even
he wouldn’t disagree with that.

Just as Bernie was about to turn round, his gaze caught Pete’s door. It was open a couple of inches. Inside he could see the wardrobe. He walked slowly towards it.

Nothing had changed in this room. Like Ruby had told him, it was kept as a shrine. There was a stillness here, as though the room was waiting. But waiting for who? Pete?

Bernie shivered. He shouldn’t be in here. Mrs P would have forty fits if she knew. But he stood his ground all the same, looking round, inhaling the mouldy, blistering walls, the cold
light of day spilling onto the bed. Pete’s bed. Where he died. Where Ruby found him. Poor cow.

Bernie sighed again, his gaze taking in the last earthly memories Pete would have had. He’d come home for the weekend, was in good spirits as far as everyone knew. Taken his mum out
shopping in the car. Walked Ruby to Island Gardens and gone out for a pint with yours truly. He’d been the usual Pete, a bit more flash than usual, perhaps. Boasting a deal was going down
with a right result in the offing. They’d parted on good terms, no questions asked. Bernie had learned to keep his curiosity to himself. He knew Pete liked a bit of brag and why not? His mate
was doing well for himself by all accounts.

Then, a day later, Pete was no more. He’d tipped a bottle of pills down his throat together with a bottle of booze. So what had happened in those twenty-four hours to change the course of
his life?

Even now, Bernie shook his head. He was mystified. Glancing distractedly at the wardrobe he remembered Ruby had said she found the diary there. Had she put it back again? He went over, looked
warily around, before opening the door. He went on his haunches, shuffled Pete’s shoes and saw the catch. He lifted it. Nothing there. Ruby must still have the diary. He replaced the shoes
and closed the wardrobe.

Then it hit him, like a brick. Pete was hiding his secrets. In his diary. Why else keep one? Why hide it? The clues to his death had to be there. The diary wasn’t just some old bit of tat.
It was Pete’s legacy.

Bernie straightened up. His heart was beating fast. Who the hell was Joanie? She was on every page. She was the one person who knew the most about Pete. The real Pete. The joker Pete, the
boaster, the clever bugger. Joanie knew the face under the mask. Past Pete’s schmooze and all his verbal.

Bernie studied the picture on the wall. The one beside the wardrobe. The dog in the top hat. Another nod to Pete’s worship of old Winnie.
If you’re going through hell, keep
going
.

So what was Pete’s own private hell?

The picture was lopsided and Bernie reached out to square it. Funny, he didn’t even like touching it. The frame was good quality but dust-coated. The glass was smudged. Odd that, as
according to Ruby, Mrs P liked his room kept spotless.

Then suddenly the picture seemed to fly from its hook. ‘You clumsy bugger!’ he muttered to himself, reaching down to retrieve it. ‘Thank Christ the glass isn’t
broken.’

Slowly, he turned it over.

He read, then reread the handwritten lines on the back.
For Pete, my love, my world. Forever yours, J. 1951.

And underneath, a label.

Cuthbertson Studio. Fine Prints and Photography
.

Ruby didn’t want to open her eyes, just in case she woke up in her own bed. Had she dreamed the incredible night of lovemaking? She had never really believed she would
find herself back in Nick’s arms again. Often, she’d tricked herself into believing that fate would reunite them. Reason enough to propel her through the daylight hours spent caring for
her mum, and the dark ones, spent alone. But now it had really happened.

In the dim light, Nick pulled her gently towards him, kissing her eyes, nose and finally her mouth. His hands travelled down to her hips, moving her into the shape of his strong body. She
murmured in delight. ‘I’ve wanted this for so long.’

‘So have I.’

‘What did Anna tell you?’ She had said it before she could stop herself. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to know.’

‘I’d rather we forgot Anna.’

‘Yes, but did she tell you about Mr Steadman?’ Ruby pressed.

Nick released his hold on her, then, turning on the bedside light, he searched for his cigarettes. ‘Young lady, you have just effectively put an end to my romancing. Here, take
this.’ He held out a Gauloise.

Ruby sat up beside him, covering her naked breasts with the sheet. Obediently she put the cigarette to her lips. A few splutters later, they were both laughing.

‘You’ll never make a smoker.’ Nick slid his arm around her.

‘No, but I tried.’

‘You’re like a little princess, with no vices at all.’

She snuggled against him. ‘My biggest vice is being crazy about you.’

‘So you’d call that a vice?’ He ground the cigarette out in the ashtray.

‘Course not. But I keep worrying I’ll never see you again. Or that Anna, like the wicked witch, will cast a spell on us somehow.’

‘She’ll never do that.’ He ran his fingers up and down her arm, making her shiver. Then, playing with her hair, he said in a subdued tone, ‘Hey, you’re safe here
with me now.’

‘She played a cruel trick,’ Ruby insisted. ‘Mr Steadman wanted me to wear a belly-dancing costume.’ Ruby looked up at him, at the square shape of his jaw and the smile he
was trying to hide. ‘It’s not funny, Nick.’

‘No, but knowing you, I can imagine your reply.’

‘I threatened to go to the newspapers. I thought that would give him a fright.’

‘I’m sure it did.’ He clasped her chin in his fingers. ‘Nothing surprises me where Anna’s concerned. Sorry, little princess, but I did try to warn you.’

To her shame, Ruby knew she had walked into Anna’s trap with her eyes wide open. ‘I can see how she earned her reputation.’

‘I’m glad that’s evident now. I hope you’ll never get involved with Anna again.’