A Rare Ruby (30 page)

‘If she found herself a rich bloke she wouldn’t stay in that house looking after you.’

He gave her a smarmy grin and walked away to the seat next to the fire; it was the one he always sat in.

Beth was pleased when Mr Thompson called time and, as he ushered the last customer out, she said, ‘I’ll just pop out back and put the kettle on, then I’ll come and give you a hand with the glasses.’

‘You’re a good ’en, Beth, and no mistake.’

She smiled at him. She was so happy here. She knew that if he ever asked her to marry him, she would. It might come as a shock to those who thought she was already married, but she could live with that. He was good to her and he loved Danny and she knew he would look after her and her son.

‘Is your dad at home, Tom?’ she asked when she walked into the back room.

‘No, he’s working.’

‘Well, it is Christmas Eve and one of the busiest times. Tonight we’ll be rushed off our feet. Would you like me to come home with you and try to find out if Mr Cox has taken that money?’

‘It’s got to be him. Ruby and Dad would think they’d found a gold mine and they’d be full of it.’

‘Yes, you’re right. When I’ve made this tea I’ve got to help with the glasses so that Mr Thompson can bottle up for tonight. You keep your eye on Danny, then when I’ve finished we’ll go and see him.’

‘Thanks, Beth.’

‘Would you like to look after my son next Saturday when I have to go behind the bar at lunchtime?’

‘I don’t know. What if he cries?’

‘I’ll only be in the bar. I’ll pay you.’

Tom smiled. ‘All right.’

‘How’s the little lad?’ asked Mr Thompson when Beth returned to the bar.

‘He’s all right.’

‘Now, you’ve made sure that guard is firm in front of the fire?’

‘Course.’

‘Would never forgive meself if anything happened to him.’

Beth kissed his cheek. ‘I know. When I’ve finished here I’ve got to pop along with Tom. He’s had a bit of trouble.’

‘Nothing serious, I hope?’

‘No. I can handle it. But can I leave Danny here with you?’

‘Course.’

‘I’ll put him down for his afternoon nap. You can have a little rest when I get back.’

‘As I said, Beth, you’re a good ’en, and the best thing that ever happened to me.’

 

Tom was shaking when they went into the house. It was with fear and anger. Beth had warned him that Mr Cox might deny it, and he might even threaten Tom with the police. ‘After all, it wasn’t really your money, was it?’

Tom shook his head. ‘Shall I come up with you?’ he asked as he stood at the bottom of the stairs watching Beth go up.

‘Perhaps you’d better. Just in case he thinks I’m making it up.’

Beth knocked on his kitchen door. ‘Mr Cox,’ she called softly. ‘It’s me, Beth.’

There was no answer.

‘I don’t want to knock too loud in case he’s asleep,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘I don’t want him to have a heart attack. Mr Cox,’ she called again.

‘He must be out,’ said Tom, almost relieved. ‘Let’s leave it, shall we?’

‘No. I think he should know how you feel.’

‘But what if he’s gone to the police? He could be there now.’ Tom was full of dread. He ran down the stairs.

‘Tom. Tom. Come back.’

‘I don’t want to go to prison. Freddie’s dad and brothers are in prison,’ he shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

‘You won’t go to prison,’ said Beth, hurrying down to join him.

‘How do you know?’

‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. We can talk to Mr Cox.’

‘We might be too late.’ Tom’s voice was high and emotional. ‘He can keep the money.’

‘Make a pot of tea. Your dad should be home soon. Is Ruby finishing early today?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You’d better put a bit of coal on that fire, they’ll be frozen when they get home. I’m just going out to the lav.’

Tom took the big black kettle that sat on the range and poured some water into the teapot. He took the pot into the washhouse to empty. He looked through the washhouse window and through the late afternoon gloom he saw Beth - she was arguing with Mr Cox. He must have been in the lav.

 

‘Thomas, I’m very sorry about last Saturday,’ said Mrs Bell as they walked along.

Thomas had been very surprised to see her waiting for him outside the pub. ‘What are you doing here? And why are you waiting for me?’

‘I want to apologise.’

‘Apologise! What for?’

‘Last Saturday. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are a very warm and sensitive man.’ She touched his arm. ‘I didn’t like to say anything in there.’ She looked behind her towards the pub. ‘I’ve brought you a Christmas present.’

‘What?’

She delved into her handbag.

‘Mrs Bell—’

‘Please, call me Rita.’

‘Rita. I can’t . . .’

‘Merry Christmas,’ she said, handing him a small package. ‘I won’t be in tomorrow lunchtime as I’m going away with a gentleman friend. I hope you have a nice Christmas.’ She pulled the luxurious black fur collar of her coat closer to her face, leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

She turned and hurried away, leaving Thomas Jenkins bewildered. At the corner of the street she turned and waved. He smiled, waved back and touched his cheek. He really didn’t know what to make of that woman.

 

Tom rushed out into the yard.

‘Ah, here’s our little thief. You thought you was being clever, hiding your ill-gotten gains on the ledge in there, didn’t you?’

‘How d’you know it was stolen?’

‘Come off it. I wasn’t born yesterday. When I saw you drag that box in the lav I wondered what you was up to.’

‘But . . . How . . .?’

Mr Cox pointed up to his kitchen window. ‘Saw you from up there. Thought it was a bit odd, so I decided to come down and see what it was all about.’

Tom felt deflated. He had never thought to check up there. Mr Cox’s kitchen window overlooked the yard. He often looked down on what they did. Tom had to think quickly. ‘How d’you know I wasn’t saving it for Christmas?’

‘What? Where would you get twenty-five bob from?’

Tom heard Beth take a quick breath. He hadn’t told her how much there had been.

‘It ain’t from chopping up wood,’ continued Mr Cox.

‘I think you should give it back to Tom,’ said Beth. ‘After all, his needs are greater than yours.’

Mr Cox laughed in her face. ‘So you’re encouraging this little sod to steal?’

‘Course I’m not.’ Beth’s voice was full of anger.

‘You lot are all tarred with the same brush.’ He poked her shoulder with his finger. ‘You ain’t a relation, you’re just a trollop, you ain’t married neither. I’ve made it me business to find out all about you. I know where you’ve come from. Right old lot they are an’ all.’

Tom looked from one to the other.

Beth was seething. ‘Don’t you poke me. How dare you talk to me like this? You’re barred from the pub.’

‘You can’t do that, it ain’t yours. I know what your little game is - you’ve set your sights on poor old Thompson. Wait till he knows all about you.’ He went to walk away. ‘And you wait till I tell his father and that stuck-up sister of his about this. Then, when I’ve spent half of it, I’ll go to the police.’ He laughed. ‘I’m really going to enjoy this.’

‘You can’t, you can’t,’ yelled Tom.

‘And who’s gonner stop me?’

‘Me.’ Tom lunged at Mr Cox and knocked him against the wall.

He quickly regained his breath and balance. ‘You little sod, come here. I’ll kill you.’

‘No you won’t!’ said Beth, hitting him with her clenched fists.

‘You cow.’ He threw his hands across Beth’s face and she fell heavily to the ground.

Tom and Mr Cox stood and looked at her lying still on the damp concrete.

‘You’ve killed her,’ said Tom softly.

‘Course I ain’t. Get up, you silly cow.’ He touched her with the toe of his boot.

Beth didn’t move.

‘You’ve killed her!’ repeated Tom, his voice rising.

‘Shut up.’

‘You’ve killed her!’ shouted Tom, falling to the ground beside Beth. He put his hand under her head. He slowly brought it out and looked at it. It was covered with blood. He sat on his haunches for a moment or two then leapt to his feet. ‘You’ve killed her. You’ve killed her,’ he yelled, pummelling Mr Cox’s chest with his fists.

‘I said shut up!’ Mr Cox was trying to get hold of Tom’s hands.

The last thing Tom felt was a blow to the side of his head.

 

Ruby looked across at Florrie and Molly. They had been laughing and singing all morning. They were full of what they were going to do tonight and over Christmas.

‘Why don’t yer come ter the pub with us?’ shouted Florrie. ‘It might help ter put a smile on that miserable face of yours.’

‘I can’t. I’ve got to get home,’ said Ruby.

‘Why’s that, yer gonner see yer lover boy? I’ve heard he only likes older women. I bet he’s giving Mrs W. a present.’

‘I wonder what it’ll be, Florrie,’ shouted her friend.

‘I’ve gotter good idea,’ she said, laughing. ‘She must like ’em young and with a bit of go in ’em. She’ll certainly get that with that Ernie Wallis, won’t she, Rube?’

Ruby ignored her.

‘Thought the miserable cow would have let us go a bit early today seeing as how it’s Christmas Eve,’ said Molly, standing up and moving towards Ruby.

The door opened and Mrs Watson walked in. Molly quickly pretended to straighten her frock and sat down again.

‘You’ll be pleased to know that the management is going to let you go at two today, instead of making you work till four. I think that’s very generous of them, don’t you?’

Ruby heard Florrie comment very low that she thought a Christmas box wouldn’t come amiss; fortunately Mrs Watson didn’t hear that.

Soon after Mrs Watson had left the room the hooter went for them to leave.

‘Right, I’m off,’ said Florrie, gathering up her belongings. ‘See yer ternight in the Beak,’ she yelled to Molly.

Ruby let them rush out. As she left she decided to go to the market. She gave a little smile. She had to admit that the thought of Tom getting a legless chicken had worried her a bit. He had been acting very secretively lately and she couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t got himself in with a wrong lot. There were plenty of kids running about who didn’t go to school or work, and they could be a problem; she hoped Tom wasn’t mixed up with any like that. He was definitely going to school after Christmas; they would find the penny a week from somewhere.

She loved the market at Christmas. There was always an air of excitement and lots of colour and decorations. The stallholders always seemed cheerful despite the cold wind that had come up. She hoped it didn’t rain, or it could turn to snow it was so cold. Her boots always wore out quicker in the wet, and her chilblains would come back again. Since she’d been in the ironing room she hadn’t had them nearly so badly.

She had a few pence to spend and wandered from stall to stall gazing at all the many delights that were on display. She stopped at the fruit and veg stall. I hope Tom managed to get some decent veg, she said to herself. On impulse she bought two oranges that were wrapped in silver paper. They looked so very pretty. One could go inside Tom’s Christmas stocking. The other one she would give to her father. What wouldn’t she give to be able to buy things she wanted? Even though her father was bringing in a few extra shillings at the moment, the rent was the most important thing, and she always had to make sure it was put to one side. It was a dark cloudy day and with the fog that was always hanging in the air, it never really seemed to get light. After an hour or two she decided it was time to go home. I hope Tom’s kept that fire in, I’m frozen, she thought.

 

Thomas Jenkins hurried home. He had to be back at the pub later on, but George had told him not to come in till just after seven, which gave him just a short while to get Ruby and Tom a present. George had been very good; he had given him two shillings extra. What could he get them? He felt like a kid again, it was years since he’d been able to buy something. It was before the war; he and Mary would go out on Christmas Eve to buy the children’s presents. That was a lifetime ago. He missed Mary so much. With his hands thrust into his pockets, he could feel the small packet Mrs Bell had given him. He hadn’t opened it. Should he? Did he want Ruby to see it? He could tell her a customer had given it to him, which was the truth, but what if it were something very personal? He stood on the street corner and tore away the paper. He opened the small box and was taken aback. It was a pair of mother-of-pearl cufflinks. He stood looking at them. Why should that woman give him something as expensive looking as this? What were they worth? He looked up the road. He could see the three brass balls of the pawnshop. He grinned. This could be the best Christmas present she could have given him. He put them into his pocket and went along to the shop.

 

‘Tom, Tom,’ shouted Ruby, lighting the mantle in the passage. ‘I hope you’ve kept that fire in, I’m frozen.’

She walked into the dark kitchen. ‘Where the hell have you got to?’ She threw her handbag and the oranges on the table and lit the gaslight. ‘Oh no, the fire’s nearly out.’ Without taking off her hat and coat she fell to her knees and, holding up a sheet of paper in front of the fire, gently blew on the dying embers trying to bring a bit of life back into them.

The kitchen door opened.

‘Hello, Dad.’

‘What you doing, love?’

‘Trying to get a bit of life into this. You wait till I see Tom. I told him to keep an eye on the fire.’

‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve just got in meself.’

‘I’ve had a good day.’

Ruby smiled up at her father. ‘That’s good.’