A Rare Ruby (9 page)

She tried to catch Beth’s attention, but Beth had her head back and, with her eyes closed, was softly singing.

‘Tom, how are you getting on with that colouring book?’ Ruby quickly pushed her chair back.

Tom looked up from the floor with a bewildered expression on his face. ‘All right. Why?’

‘Thought you might want some help.’

‘No.’

‘Ruby, do you mind if I have a lay down?’

Ruby looked at her mother. ‘No, course not. Mum, are you sure you’re all right?’ She’d noticed how silent Mary had been.

Her mother smiled. ‘Course I am. It’s the port. I’m not used to drinking.’

‘Don’t worry about the washing up, Mrs Jenkins,’ said Beth, sitting up and opening her eyes. ‘We’ll see to it.’

‘Thanks. This is the best Christmas we’ve had for years. I shall be sorry when you do have to leave us.’

‘You’re not going away, are you?’ asked Ruby, suddenly filled with gloom.

‘No, course not.’

Ruby watched her mother leave the room. This wasn’t like Mary at all. She always rushed about doing everything herself, yet she hadn’t protested at Beth’s offer. Ruby looked at her father, but now he had his eyes closed.

Beth was still singing as she began to clear the table, then she disappeared into the washhouse.

Mr Cox came over and put his arm round Ruby’s shoulder. ‘D’you know, you’ve grown into a very lovely girl.’ He ran his fingers through her hair. ‘This is very pretty.’

She pushed him away. ‘I’ve got to help Beth.’

‘That can wait. I’d like you to come upstairs. I’ve got something I’d like to show you.’

Ruby looked again at her father, who was obviously dozing. Tom was still busy drawing. Why was Beth taking so long? ‘I’m sorry, Mr Cox.’ She pushed him to one side and gathered up some plates. ‘I must help Beth.’

‘You could be sorry you’ve just done that,’ he hissed.

Shocked, Ruby stood stock still. What had she done? She didn’t want to spoil anything. Everything was going so well. Perhaps she was just being silly and seeing things that weren’t there. But somehow she knew she wasn’t. Would Mr Cox throw them out if she didn’t do what he asked?

She stumbled into the washhouse.

‘There you are,’ said Beth, who was at the sink and had her back to Ruby. ‘Grab that tea towel and you can . . .’ She turned. ‘Ruby, what is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ She put her wet hands round Ruby and held her close. ‘Your mum’s all right. She’s just tired, that’s all.’

‘I think I’ve just lost us this place.’

‘What? What are you saying?’

‘Mr Cox wants me to go upstairs with him, and I said no.’

‘What?’ screamed Beth. ‘The dirty old sod. Let me get at him.’

‘No.’ Ruby held on to her arm. ‘Please don’t say anything.’

‘I’ve met men like that all me life. You mustn’t give in to ’em.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to thump him for you?’

Ruby half smiled. ‘No, thanks all the same.’

Beth wiped her hands on the towel that hung on a nail behind the back door. ‘Now you listen to me, Ruby. I’m a few years older than you—’

‘Not that many,’ interrupted Ruby.

‘Well, I’ve been around and I’ve seen what those sorts of blokes are like. I never got on with me mum and dad and when the chance came to get away, I took it. It was hard at first but . . .’ She suddenly stopped and laughed. ‘Hark at me getting all silly and sentimental. It must be the port.’

‘You must miss your husband?’

‘Well, yes.’ Beth quickly returned to the sink to finish the washing up.

‘I thought he might have sent Danny something for Christmas.’

‘I expect he’ll bring it when he gets home.’

Ruby was still thinking about Mr Cox. Slowly she wiped the cloth round and round the plate. Just a few hours ago life had seemed wonderful. Now she was worried about all their futures.

‘Penny for them?’ said Beth.

‘They ain’t worth a penny.’ She had prayed that 1920 was going to be a new beginning, but what now?

Tom angrily brushed his dull blond hair from his eyes. He glared at Beth pushing her pram in front of him. Even though he was wearing the new scarf his mother had knitted him for Christmas and the gloves Beth had given him, he was fed up and cold. Christmas had gone and all the paper chains had been taken down and everything was miserable and back to normal. Most of the clean laundry had been delivered and his pram was now full of dirty smelly washing. As usual, when they reached the street where the buildings were, Beth told him he could leave his pram with her while he went up and delivered Mrs Bell’s washing. Tom was worried; he didn’t want to go up on his own as he had caught sight of a gang of boys larking about in front of them when they turned the corner. They had disappeared, and he guessed they would be waiting for him as soon as he was up the first flight of stairs and out of Beth’s sight.

‘Please, Beth. Come with me.’

‘Oh come on, Tom. You’ll be all right. I’m only down here. Besides, I ain’t dragging me pram all the way up there.’

Tom had been through this conversation before and knew it was no use. He picked up the neat pile of ironed clothes that were wrapped in a clean towel and made his way to the stairs. He stopped and turned. Beth looked about, then gave him a little wave.

Slowly he peered round the corner after the first flight of stairs and was surprised to find he was alone. With his head down he quickly started to run up the stairs two at a time. Mrs Bell lived on the fourth floor.

As he went round the second bend a scruffy boy barred his way. ‘Fought you’d missed us, didn’t yer?’

Three more boys came and stood next to their leader. His name, Tom knew, was Alfie Anderson. Tom’s legs refused to move. He was very, very frightened.

‘What you got there?’ asked one of the boys.

‘Only some lady’s washing.’ His voice was very high and faint.

‘Let’s ’ave a look,’ said Alfie, coming towards him.

‘He might have some funny drawers in there,’ said one of his mates.

Tom began to back away. ‘Leave me alone.’

‘’Ave yer got some funny drawers then?’ asked Alfie, grabbing the parcel.

‘Give it back!’ screamed Tom. He was feeling sick.

‘ “Give it back!” ’ repeated one of the gang in a silly voice.

‘Well, look at these.’ Alfie held up a pair of Mrs Bell’s pink satin and lace knickers. ‘My mum’ll like these.’ He stuffed them into his pocket. ‘What else yer got?’

The other members of the gang snatched the washing from Tom and began riffling through it. Loud shouts and whoops of delight filled the stairs as they held up the garments one by one, then, after a lot of arguing about who should have what, stuffed them in their pockets.

Tears filled Tom’s eyes as he stood helplessly watching them. He went to back away but Alfie put his foot out and Tom stumbled over it and sat on the hard concrete floor with a bump.

They were so busy and making so much noise that they didn’t see or hear Mrs Bell and a very large-built man come down the stairs.

‘What’s going on down here?’ shouted Mrs Bell. ‘And what the bloody hell d’you think you’re doing? That’s my washing.’ She snatched back a petticoat. ‘Where’s the rest of it?’

Tom couldn’t speak.

By now Mrs Bell’s companion had slipped past the boys and was blocking their exit. They were trapped between Mrs Bell and her man.

‘What’s this?’ she screamed, pulling at one of her garments, which was hanging from Alfie’s pocket. ‘It’s me drawers. I’ll bloody kill you. Charlie, go through their pockets.’

Charlie didn’t need a second telling. He was pinning the boys down on the hard concrete floor and those he didn’t catch quickly threw the garments to the ground and ran off.

‘Where’s your sister?’ demanded Mrs Bell, looking at Tom.

‘You shouldn’t be up here on your own.’

‘Me sister’s at work. I’m ever so sorry.’ Tears began to trickle down his cheek.

‘You’ve come up here on your own? Where’s the pram? You ain’t left it down there, have you?’

Tom shook his head. ‘Beth’s looking after it for me.’

‘Well, I hope she can look after herself, cos I reckon they’ll be giving her a hard time. That bloody Alfie Anderson wants locking up, and his mother and her drunken old man, and all her kids along with him.’

Tom wiped his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

‘Come on, love.’ Mrs Bell put her arm round Tom’s slim shoulders. Her perfume filled his nostrils. He’d never smelt anything so nice before. ‘Let’s go and see that this Beth’s still in one piece.’

They made their way down the stairs and out into the cold air.

‘About time too,’ said Beth, banging her arms and stamping her feet. ‘It’s freezing out here.’

‘This young man’s been having a bit of trouble. A gang of roughnecks set on him. Thought you might be having a bit of trouble with ’em yourself, being out here on your own. Did you see ’em?’ asked Mrs Bell.

‘I did hear a bit of a racket, but they rushed past me quick.’

‘D’you happen to know any of ’em?’

‘No. I don’t come from round this way.’

Mrs Bell looked quizzically at Beth.

Beth quickly looked away. ‘Come on, Tom, we’d better get a move on.’

‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ asked Mrs Bell.

‘Shouldn’t think so. As I said, I don’t come from round this way.’

‘Funny. You look very much like someone I used to know.’

Beth gave her a slight smile. ‘I pity her then. Come on, Tom.’

They moved away. Tom looked back at Mrs Bell who stood for a moment or two looking in their direction, then she shrugged and with her arm through Charlie’s, turned and walked off.

All the way home Tom worried about what his mother would say. The time she had spent ironing Mrs Bell’s delicate washing, and how it was all creased. He had even forgotten to collect the money and the dirty stuff. This wouldn’t have happened if Ruby had been with him. He wished he were dead.

 

‘What d’you mean, you got set on be some boys?’ His mother was very angry. ‘You should stand up for yourself.’

‘It was that Alfie Anderson’s gang,’ said Tom.

‘I don’t think he would have stood much of a chance. After all, there was four of them,’ said Beth, walking outside to the lav.

She closed the lav door. She didn’t want them to talk about it. Why did she go with Tom when she knew he was going to the buildings? What would the Jenkinses say if they really knew all about her? Would they let her stay in this house? She knew she had to keep out of that Rita Bell’s way. She had a mouth on her, that one.

 

That night, when Tom finally managed to get Ruby on her own, he told her everything that had happened.

‘And Beth didn’t help you?’

‘No.’

‘That’s not like her.’

‘She’s always worried when we go round the buildings. She’s always looking round. Sometimes I have to leave her and the pram a couple of streets away.’

‘That’s funny. I didn’t think she come from round that way. I wonder what she’s frightened of?’

‘Ruby, what about Mrs Bell’s washing and Mum’s money?’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll go when I finish on Saturday.’

 

The next day Ruby in turn told Elsie about Beth, Tom and Mrs Bell.

‘Poor little bugger. He must have been scared out of his wits. Four of ’em, you said. Did they hurt him?’

‘No. I’ve come across that Alfie Anderson before. He saunters around with his gang as though he owns the place. He really is a nasty piece of work. D’you know I once told him and his gang off for chasing a cat. He told me to mind me own business, then said he was gonner skin it and have it for his dinner.’

Elsie looked horrified. ‘No,’ she said, putting her hand to her mouth. ‘The horrible little bugger. But you always managed to keep him at bay.’

‘Only cos I had Tom with me and we always took a big stick.’

‘Good for you.’ Elsie laughed. ‘This Mrs Bell sounds a right old tom.’

‘She’s all right. She’s got some lovely underwear.’

‘She needs it in her profession.’

‘She must make a lot of money. She always looks very nice.’

‘Here, you ain’t thinking of going on the game, are you?’

It was Ruby’s turn to laugh. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do.’

‘They say that you only have to lay back and think of England.’

Ruby looked very serious. ‘Why do they say that?’

‘I dunno. It’s just something I was told.’

Ruby’s mind went back to Mr Cox and Christmas night. All evening he had tried to sit near her. She gave a slight smile. It had been a bit like musical chairs without the music. She had tried not to look at him, and Beth had somehow managed to keep him at arm’s length without it being too noticeable. But what would happen when Beth went? Would she be able to keep him at bay then? And should she tell her mother?

 

Ruby didn’t take the pram on Saturday, as she was going straight from work to collect Mrs Bell’s washing. She had told Elsie she wouldn’t be going to the market.

‘D’you want me to come with you?’ asked Elsie as they met outside the laundry gate.

‘Would you mind?’

‘No, in fact I’d quite like to meet your Mrs Bell.’

As usual they had to pick their way through the rubbish.

‘Christ. What a dump,’ said Elsie as they climbed the stairs at the buildings.

The normal sounds of men shouting, kids crying and women screaming filled their ears.

‘And it stinks,’ said Elsie, holding her nose. ‘Would have thought she could have afforded somewhere better than this to live.’

‘She must like it. I think she’s been here a long while.’

‘How did your mum get to take in her washing?’