A Rare Ruby (2 page)

‘Can Tom help me?’

‘He’s had to go and get me some soap.’

Ruby tied the thick sacking apron round her waist and stood on the box next to her mother. Although she was as tall as her mother now she felt safer on the box as she leaned over the bubbling copper. Very carefully she wound the washing round and round the stick. She was always terrified of splashing the boiling water over herself as she pulled up as much washing as she could hold, then gently lowered it into the tin bath that stood next to her.

Her mother helped her carry the tin bath to the deep sink and tip the clothes out just as Tom came bounding through the scullery.

‘Just bumped into that Ernie Wallis. D’you know, he told me he was gonner take some of Mum’s customers away from her.’

‘I’d like to see him try,’ said Ruby.

‘Don’t stand there looking at your sister, give her a hand.’

Ruby shivered as she ran the cold water over the clothes and pummelled them up and down. When she’d rinsed them, she twisted them to get out as much water as she could, then lifted them into the tin bath again. ‘Tom, grab that handle.’

Between them they lifted the heavy bath and after many stops to rest, managed to manoeuvre it into the small back yard. Ruby took a breath when the cold hit her wet apron then penetrated through her thin clothes and on to her stomach.

‘That Ernie Wallis is a big bully,’ said Tom, peering under the fringe of his dull blond hair. He was nine years old, small and thin for his age, and the image of his mother. Although he looked frail, with two hands he expertly turned the handle on the big mangle as his sister fed the sheets through the wooden rollers and then placed them into a wicker basket.

Ruby gave him a big smile. It wasn’t fair. They couldn’t afford the slate he needed to write on at school, so he didn’t go. Although Ruby tried to help him with his sums and reading, it wasn’t the same as going and sitting in a classroom. She had loved going to school, and her teacher, Mrs Grey, was always saying that Ruby was a bright girl who should go far. But when her father had joined the army she’d had to stay at home and help her mother. And, after the war had ended, her father couldn’t work any more so they had had to move from their house.

‘I’m gonner bash that Ernie Wallis when I grow up,’ said Tom.

‘I don’t think Mum will like that.’ Ruby was grinning.

Tom quickly glanced around and moved closer to his sister. ‘He called Dad a silly old fool. He said I’ll be like him when I grow up. I won’t, will I?’

That remark took the grin away from Ruby. ‘Course you won’t. It was the war what done that. Dad’s shell-shocked.’

‘I ain’t ever gonner go to war.’

‘You won’t have to. That was the war to end all wars. Come on, help me put this lot on the line.’ Ruby thought about Ernie Wallis. He was tall and good-looking. When they’d both been at school she’d looked up to him. In fact, like most of the girls, she had adored him, but he always ignored her. When his father had been killed at the beginning of the war he’d been very upset and had had to leave school to help his mother support his three younger sisters. The last time she’d seen him he’d been pushing a pram with furniture on it; he hadn’t spoken to her. Was he taking the contents of their home to the second-hand shop? Was that why he was nasty to Tom? Was he angry with what life had thrown at him?

Ruby and Tom’s hands were freezing as between them they pegged the sheets on the line. Ruby pushed the clothes prop under the rope so the washing could catch the slightest breeze.

‘Can’s see it drying much today,’ she said, picking up the wicker basket.

That evening Ruby sat with Tom at the old table, trying again to teach him how to do his sums. In the washhouse, damp washing hung from the airing poles close to the ceiling. A line had been strung up under the mantelpiece, and the clothes horse, full of Mrs Barton’s washing, was taking all the heat from the fire. Ruby watched the steam gently rising.

‘Mum, I was talking to Milly in the dairy, she asked me if I knew of anyone who had a room to let.’

‘Well, we ain’t got a room. Ruby, I’ve told you before - I ain’t gonner have strangers walking about this place taking the mickey out of your father.’

‘But Mum, at least you’ll have a couple of shillings every week. It’s gotter be better than having all this washing all over the place every day, and having to pawn most of our things, and I could go out to work.’

‘That’s as may be. But as I said, I don’t want anyone laughing at him, and I certainly ain’t having that means test man round. And I can’t see him’ - she raised her eyes to the ceiling - ‘letting me have anybody else move in. What sort of job d’you reckon you could get anyway?’

‘I don’t know.’

Suddenly her father began coughing. Ruby looked over at him. Her heart went out to him as he grinned back at her. Her mother must love him very much. She never got cross, nor shouted at him, even though his not working made life so difficult for them all. Ruby didn’t know where she got such patience from.

The following afternoon Ruby was in the dairy across the road, talking to Milly. Ruby liked Milly even though she was years older than Ruby; Ruby had known Milly all of her life. At one time, before Milly had to help in the dairy, they had played together and Milly would get told off for banging a ball on the wall of the shop. Milly’s parents owned the dairy, but they were getting on now. Most of the time, since her father had been taken ill and couldn’t stand all day, Milly was in the shop alone, although sometimes her mother would come down. Milly was nearly twenty, and knew most of what was going on round about and, despite their age difference, loved talking to Ruby.

‘Did you tell your mum about that poor young girl who wants somewhere to stay?’

‘Yes, I did, but you know me mum. ’Sides, we ain’t got much room.’

‘She’s got this baby.’ As Milly leaned over, her big bosoms rested on the counter. She was the only person Ruby knew who wasn’t skinny. ‘Her baby’s only a few weeks old. I think her old man’s in the Navy so he’s away a lot. She wouldn’t be any trouble.’

‘Where’s she staying now?’

Milly looked up at the door, pulled her cross-over apron tighter round her and leaned forward. She lowered her voice. ‘She’s with that Mrs Mann and her daughter. You know, they live in the next road.’

Ruby nodded, her dark searching eyes full of expression. ‘They frighten me.’

‘They frighten everybody with their ranting and ravings about the Lord coming and taking all the wicked ones.’

‘Does this girl come from round here?’

‘Don’t think so. I ain’t seen her hereabouts. ’Sides, if she did I reckon she’d be staying with her parents.’

‘I’ll ask me mum again. How does she pay her rent?’

‘She must get some sort of allowance.’

‘Now this weather’s turned Mum might think twice about it. All that washing hanging about - I don’t think it does me dad any good, sitting with all that steam round him.’

‘How is your dad?’

‘Mum don’t think he’ll ever be any different.’

‘Shame. He was such a nice man.’

Ruby watched as Milly put a dollop of dripping on the scales. She took it off and put it on a sheet of greaseproof paper, then very quickly added another lump. ‘What is it, bread and dripping for tea?’

Again Ruby nodded.

‘That’ll be tuppence,’ said Milly.

Ruby smiled. ‘Thanks, Milly.’ With the wind and rain beating against her face, Ruby hurried across the road.

‘Mum, Milly was telling me about this woman what wants a room. She’s got a baby and her husband’s away, she lives with that Mrs Mann.’

Mrs Jenkins’s head shot up. ‘Ruby, we’ve only got three rooms and a washhouse, and we was lucky to get this much space. Where would she sleep? And I can’t see Mr Cox being very pleased about it.’

Ruby knew they could have trouble with him, but her mother needed the money. ‘She could come in with me and Tom. P’r’aps she could bring a mattress. She could sleep next to us.’

Mary Jenkins picked the iron off the hob and, turning it over, spat on it making it sizzle. ‘I can’t see her paying to sleep on the floor. She must be better off where she is, she must have a room. Why does she want to move?’

‘Milly didn’t say.’

She smiled at her daughter. ‘You’re a good girl. Now you carry on with this while I cut the bread and make a bit of toast for tea.’

As Ruby moved the iron back and forth over the washing she began to think of ways to help her mother out. She should try to get a job. But what? It couldn’t be for long hours, as she needed to help her mother till Tom was old enough and strong enough to collect and deliver on his own.

 

As Ruby made her way to the market the following morning, her heart gave a little leap when she saw Ernie Wallis in front of her. He was pushing a pram piled high with bundles of washing along Rotherhithe New Road. Ruby knew he was fifteen; he was taller but thinner than her. He had a mop of dark hair that fell over his vivid blue eyes: no wonder all the girls at school had been in love with Ernie Wallis. She grinned. He was having a great deal of trouble getting the pram down the kerb as one of the wheels was badly buckled.

‘What are you looking at?’ he asked when he caught sight of her.

‘You,’ she said confidently.

‘Well, don’t.’

‘I can look at who I want.’ Although Ruby was shaking in her boots she just had to speak to him - hold his attention. She didn’t want him to ignore her any more. ‘Where are you going with that lot?’

‘Mind yer own business.’

Ruby was interested. He didn’t live round this way. ‘You told our Tom you was going to take some of me mum’s customers away from her.’

He laughed. ‘That brother of yours can be a right wimp.’

‘And that wasn’t very nice telling him he’ll grow up like me dad.’

‘Yer. I shouldn’t have said that. I was having a bad day.’

So he could be nice, thought Ruby. Since she was angry about his remarks she wanted to tell him off, but she also wanted to keep close to him. ‘D’you go to work?’

‘Course.’

‘Where d’you work?’ she asked as they continued along the road together.

‘What’s it to you?’

‘Just interested, that’s all.’

‘It’s only temporary at the moment. I’m looking for something better.’

‘Trouble is so are a lot of men.’

‘Know that, don’t I? You gonner follow me?’

‘No. I’m going to the market. Where are you going?’

‘As I said. Mind yer own business.’ He turned off and went towards Lower Road.

What was he doing going down there? Ruby wanted to follow him, but she knew he’d be mad at her and she didn’t want to get into his bad books as she still had feelings for him . . . but could it lead anywhere?

She wandered round the market looking for anything that was cheap or had been thrown away. Her mind was going over what Milly had told her about the woman who wanted a bed. She had to convince her mother that this would be good for them. Perhaps the woman would help her mother, then she could really start looking for work?

 

It was late afternoon when Ruby was delivering Mrs Barton’s washing. She was standing on Mrs Barton’s doorstep when Mrs Flynn, the next-door neighbour, came out.

‘Been looking out the window waiting for you. Could you do a little job for me?’

‘Yes, if I can.’

‘I’ll pay yer.’

Ruby’s eyes lit up. ‘What is it?’

‘Could you be a love and take me washing to the bag-wash? Me feet’s playing up something rotten and I can’t be dragging this lot down there.’

‘Would you like me mum to do it for you?’

‘No, ta all the same. I use the bag-wash off Lower Road. All I have to do is stuff it in a pillowcase and they wash it like that - that way I don’t lose any.’

‘You wouldn’t lose any if me mum did it.’

‘From what I gather your mum’s got enough on her hands. Besides, they put it in the big dryers afterwards. It comes back just damp and I can manage that.’

‘Is it ready?’ asked Ruby.

‘I’ll just get it. I’ll give you a couple of pence for your trouble. You’ll have to bring it back tomorrow.’

Ruby was overjoyed. Was luck on her side? Could she earn a bit more? ‘That’s all right.’ After she’d collected Mrs Barton’s money she loaded the old pram with Mrs Flynn’s dirty washing and made her way to the laundry.

 

Ruby stood in front of the imposing entrance. Under the large brick arch, which had the name ‘Stone’s’ painted on it, the cobbled path led to a dark, dreary-looking building with small narrow windows. It looked more like the workhouse than a laundry. Gingerly and very carefully, Ruby pushed her pram round the horse dung and past the delivery cart that had ‘Stone’s Laundry’ in large letters on the side. The horse was busy munching on his nosebag; there wasn’t a sign of the driver. Steam hissed and rose from the drains. When she got up to an open door, the noise from machinery took her by surprise.