Let Love Win (10 page)

– Chapter Thirty-Five –

Ruby clicked open the gate to the Stepney Green residence that had been so familiar to her for so many years. A lively Jack Russell nipped at her heels.

‘All right, gel?’

Rita Stevens had been scrubbing her step. She wiped her hands down her apron and greeted her daughter-in-law with an awkward kiss on the cheek.

‘Monty!’ her cockney voice suddenly bawled. ‘Get down, you little bastard. Now, on ya bed!’

Rita was how you imagined a mum should be - slightly rounded with curly brown hair and a warm loving nature. She was a proper old East Ender and Ruby had always had a soft spot for her. She had lost Alfie, her beloved husband, only a few years before her beloved son, and Ruby couldn’t imagine how lost she must feel, being encased in this double bubble of bereavement.

In fact, Ruby had been working at a funeral directors as one of her twelve jobs, when George’s father had died, and had managed to sort a proper East End send-off for him, with black-feather-wearing black horses and a carriage. Rita had never forgotten this.

Completely ignoring his mistress, Monty circled Ruby madly as she entered the kitchen. He had been inherited, along with
Daffodils
in the Lake District, from the charming Lucas Steadburton. But, Patrick the cat had hated him so much it just wasn’t fair, and with Alfie’s sad demise it seemed the right thing for Rita to have him as company. A partnership that happily had worked extremely well.

‘So what brings you here then, love?’ Rita placed a steaming cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table.

‘I was doing a fitting just up the road, so thought I’d come and see my dear old mum-in-law.’

‘Less of the “old”, ta, Red.’ She softened. ‘How you doing anyway, darling?’

‘I’m actually feeling a lot better, thanks.’ Ruby didn’t think it right to mention Michael just yet. ‘Work has really picked up and I seem to have a day and a night now, instead of it all blurring into one.’

‘Fucking terrible, innit?’ Rita wiped away a tear. ‘Goodness knows how people coped in the Blitz when countless family members copped it. I mean, two is bad enough.’

‘And how are you?’ Ruby could see the sadness in the woman’s eyes.

Rita sighed. ‘I’m afraid I’m not out of the blurring stage yet. He was my son, Rubes. It’s not the right way round, is it? A parent shouldn’t outlive their child. He used to drive me mad with his muddy feet and his forgetfulness, but I’d live in a quagmire forever just to see his cheeky little face again.’

Ruby held back her own tears. ‘I thought I saw him the other day.’

‘Oh, love.’

‘Yes, I was in Covent Garden with Tony, and he walked passed Piaf’s. Well, whoever it was walked past Piaf’s. I swear, Rita, it was the spit of our George. Same height, same hair, same gait. I thought maybe I was just seeing things, as evidently that’s quite common when someone dies, but even Tony said he could see the resemblance.’ Ruby took a sip of tea. ‘Honestly, it could have been him.’

Rita leaped up, saying, ‘Well, this won’t get the house bloody cleaned, us chatting like this, will it?’ Ruby was quite startled at her reaction. ‘I must get on, love. Pop in again, won’t you?’

Ruby clicked the front gate shut feeling slightly perturbed.
Here’s your hat, here’s your coat, what’s your hurry?
This was so out of character for her mother-in-law, who would usually sit happily for hours and discuss ‘their’ George.

Maybe it was her new way of coping, and talking about him wasn’t therapeutic any more. Grief was such a difficult beast to handle.

Ruby headed to the bus stop making a mental note to visit again next week. Reaching into her pocket to check for her Oyster card, she found the fortune cookie that Tony had given her. She pulled it out of the golden wrapper and broke the crumbly biscuit in half. The piece of paper inside fell to the ground. She didn’t see the man in front of her in the bus queue go to pick it up too and they bumped heads.

‘
Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind
,’ the man read aloud, looking up straight into Ruby’s eyes and then down the full length of her body.’ Well, I’m not so sure.’

Still seeing stars, Ruby rubbed her head, then realising who it was, had to be steadied by the man’s arm.

‘I’m so sorry, I’ve obviously got a thicker skull than you,’ the posh shires accent added.

Ruby remained mute, because there standing right in front of her, with the exception of a small mole on his left cheek, was the George look-a-like she had seen outside Piaf’s just days before.

– Chapter Thirty-Six –

With a heavy heart, Michael put the key into the door of his poky flat. He felt sick. He threw his coat on the sofa, put the kettle on and clicked open his laptop.

A Ring for Miss Ruby by Michael Bell

Chapter 22:
She had taken her ring off. A bare finger. No wedding band. A significant move for a widow - and what had he gone and done? Told her he didn’t want to see her any more. Had he made the right decision? Only time would tell. He sighed deeply. Why was love so difficult? Why couldn’t we be born with a homing device that drew us to just one person with whom we should spend the rest of our lives? Just put your finger on a touch screen and it would locate your match. They could be anywhere in the world. Any creed, colour, size. You would just be instantly attracted, fall in love and have babies and live happily ever after. But then again, would life be boring like that? Wasn’t half the fun meeting new people, touching new bodies, experiencing different characters, places and circumstances?

No, sod all that. At this moment Michael would be quite content with a homing device stuck on Ruby Ann Stevens’s forehead with his name on it.

Her green eyes had filled with tears earlier; those tears for her dead husband had made him just want to scoop her up and protect her forever. Dead husband. You couldn’t even say ‘ex-husband’. This dying young business wasn’t easy to get your head around, that was for sure.

Michael pushed his chair back and got up to make a cup of tea. He plonked it down on his desk and spilled some on the scraps of paper dotted all over it.

‘Bugger!’ To his surprise, he felt tears pricking his eyes. ‘Bugger, bugger, bugger.’ He sniffed loudly and went to the kitchen drawer to see if he could find another stray cigarette.

Coming back empty-handed, he took a deep breath and set his hands on the keyboard in readiness. He would wait for as long as it took. He had to submit his review on the Ferry Boat Inn to get a few quid in. Then he would get back into his book.

In fact, he would write like the wind and finish this damn novel. He had been wanting to do this for years. So now was the ideal time. He had no distraction other than the dark pull of an unrequited love. So his fridge would be filled with food, he could get sexual gratification from his sex scenes - and the hours would fly by. And by the time he had finished it, his beautiful Ruby would come to her senses and be running into his arms again.

He needed sex, so began to type furiously.

Emily was waiting at the door, nipples poking through her little vest, white stockings and suspenders accentuating her toned thighs…

– Chapter Thirty-Seven –

The Fireman (aka Nick) was in the small kitchen at the back of the church hall when Ruby arrived with four pints of milk. Despite being taller, he was also George-like in a way, with his London accent, short black quiffed hair, big blue eyes and boyish good looks. Today he had stubble and Ruby thought looked even more handsome than usual.

‘Here, let me.’ He took the milk off her and put it in the fridge, pushing against her needlessly as he did so.

‘Oi!’ Ruby thought at least she should pretend to make a bit of a fuss.

‘You loved it, really,’ the Fireman winked as he made his way out to the group, and Ruby had a recollection of her pre-George harlot status. She had even slept with Bentley, the owner of the old people’s home for ex-actors who was at least twenty years older than her. And then there was the handsome, bald and cocksure Adam. He had been so lovely but he wasn’t The One. George, who on paper wasn’t her type at all, was The One but now he had gone and she had to find another One.

But how could you do that, if the person you loved died and you still loved them? Calling someone a ‘minus one’ wouldn’t be very fair on the new beau, now would it? Maybe this would be a good discussion for The Bow Wowers. She must mention it to Simon.

Being here had, without a doubt, helped her understand more about relationships. And really this is why she had decided to make a go of it with Michael. But that had blown back in her face, hadn’t it? What could she do? The lovely tall and sexy Mr Bell had made his mind up. He had gone. Obviously didn’t love her enough to take it slow. But part of what he said had been right. He was the first man she had slept with. Yet with age comes the wisdom that the grass ain’t always greener and that people aren’t perfect. And she did feel ‘it’ with Michael. What she called her ‘love feeling’ when they were making love. A draw, a magnetism. ‘It’ just felt right with him.

‘Shit, bollocks, fuck.’ Jimmy staggered through the door. Ruby intuitively poured boiling water on to half a cup of coffee granules.

‘Black coffee for you today, Jimmy, it is then.’ She handed it to him, his rancid breath today laced with whisky, then put a mug of Diet Coke on Simon’s desk.

‘The bastards have sacked me.’ He twitched violently, sending coffee all over the floor. Ruby ran to grab his mug. ‘Oh Jimmy! Let me just clear this mess up and I’ll be with you.’ She hurried to the kitchen to get a cloth, just as Cali breezed in wearing a long pink kaftan-style dress that revealed her ample bosom.

‘I saw a glimmer of March sunshine this morning, so thought I’d don a frock today.’ Fanny the wonder dog barked loudly, then threw herself down on to the wooden floor exhausted.

Ellie appeared with Simon, chattering loudly.

‘AITCHOO! That fucking mongrel!’

‘Oh shut up, Simon - it’s not my Fanny I tell you. We all know you’re allergic to us really.’

Simon laughed. ‘And can I just say, your breasts are looking resplendent as usual, dear.’

Ruby laughed to herself; nobody other than Simon Dye could get away with a comment like that.

‘So what happened then, Jimmy?’ Ruby sat down next to the unkempt, overweight and very sad figure.

‘Somebody got offended by my swearing. I was serving a burger to this woman and for some reason couldn’t stop saying “tits”. I must have said it about ten times. I mean, she did have a fair pair, but she took offence and the gaffer of the burger van said it was the last straw. Most people love me there though, Rubes. The truckers have all got to know me. They probably swear more than me anyway.’

Ruby squeezed his hand and noticed his filthy nails. To be honest she wouldn’t want to be served food by him and suspected that his boss had just been waiting for a chance to get rid of him.

‘Oh, Jimmy. What are you planning to do for the rest of the week?’

He twitched violently again. ‘I am planning to drink, Ruby, that is what I am planning. I mean, what else is there to do?’ He caught a glimpse of Cali in her dress. ‘Tits, tits, tits.’

‘Alcohol is not the answer, you know that.’

‘It is at the moment - blanks it all out. I still miss her - Jenny, that is.’

‘I do understand, Jimmy, I really do.’ Ruby thought back to the nights she had drained countless bottles of wine and gone to bed in a stupor. ‘But you deserve happiness now. You will never forget her. And, you are not betraying her by moving on. There is room in your heart for someone else, I am sure of that.’

‘I don’t know if I believe you, young Ruby. But, I guess I can but try.’

‘Look, give me a couple of weeks. I need to sort a few things and I promise to help you get back on the work and love trail.’

‘You are such a darling.’ Jimmy smiled.

Ruby got another whiff of his foul breath. ‘Here, give me your phone. I am going to put a date in it. I need you for a whole day and you have to be sober and positive.’

‘Roger that!’ Jimmy clicked his heels together and saluted.

‘Roger what?’ Simon minced by them to the kitchen to fill his vodka mug.

***

Simon cleared his throat to conclude the evening’s session. ‘So that’s it then really. Lesson for today: if sex doesn’t feel right with the new love, give it a chance, try new things. It might be your mind not letting that love in.’ He drained his vodka mug. ‘And, more importantly, who’s coming to the pub? I don’t know about you but I need another - I mean I need a drink.’

He looked to the back of the room. ‘Ruby, can we tempt you this week?’ For some reason she had felt wrong mixing the traumas of the Bow Wowers with her own social life.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t tonight, I’m meeting a mate at O’Neill’s.’

‘Well, that’s just where we’re going, so come on - we can all walk together.’

Ruby smiled. ‘OK.’ They wouldn’t get there until ten fifteen, so if it was awful she wouldn’t have to bear them for long. For some reason Fi had wanted to stay the night with her, so she could catch up with her at home later as well.

***

Ruby signalled the universal drinking sign of a glass to lips from the bar and Fi automatically mouthed, ‘Large, please.’

‘Is that him? The sex-mad Simon you talk of? How hot is he?! And just look at that bulge.’

Ruby settled herself at the table close to the bar. ‘Fi Donahue, you are disgusting.’

‘And I take it that’s the Fireman, chatting to old Goldilocks over there?

You’re right, I would do him as well! I almost feel like dating a widower so I can come to your Bow Wow Club.’

‘You haven’t seen Jimmy yet. That might change your mind.’

‘Oh, I don’t know… remember when Bert was still a tramp and not living with Margaret, I woke up next to him under his mac in a doorway one morning.’

‘Only because you were too pissed to see the house numbers.’

‘Well, I can’t say I haven’t lived it. Now, I just put up with the frigidity of James Kane and his non-committed gene.’

‘Fi, it can’t be that bad. You two have a great relationship.’

‘
Had
, Rubes. He just doesn’t want sex any more, keeps harping on about me losing weight. He’s got to be having an affair. I mean - look at me. Yes, I’m a size twelve but it’s curves, not fat - right. All the men I’ve slept with before - and yes, we both know there have been a few - have been gagging for a piece of the Donahue booty. That’s why I’m staying with you tonight. He needs to miss me, needs to want me for a change.’

Simon winked over at them both.

‘Bloody hell, Rubes. He is just amazing. I have never slept with a black man before either. Just look at the size of him! He could swing me around the chandelier with just one of those big strong arms alone.’ She squirmed slightly on her seat.

‘Fuck!’ Ruby suddenly said loudly.

‘What?’ Fi jumped.

‘I cannot believe I forgot to tell you something SO bloody important.’

‘What? Go on. Is it Michael?’

‘No. Aw, bless. Don’t mention Michael. He doesn’t even return my texts at the moment. However, this isn’t about him.’

‘Sorry, mate. So what is it then?’ Fi leaned forward.

‘I went over to Rita’s in Stepney Green the other day, was dropping a dress off. Anyway, I was about to get on the bus home and I only bumped into the George look-a-like I mentioned. And honestly, he is his double. I felt sick. The only difference is a small mole on his left cheek and he speaks like he has a dozen plums in his mouth.’

‘Well, don’t people say that everyone has a double somewhere in the world? Did you get a photo?’

‘Er, no. Can you imagine? “Excuse me, you look just like my dead husband, smile please”.’

‘So how did you feel?’

‘It was just weird. He gave me his card.’

‘
What!
Why? And his name is?’

‘We both bent down to pick something up at the same time and bumped heads, and he said the least he could do was buy me a drink for hurting me. His name is Harry Bowman-Green, so there is no connection. It’s just a really odd coincidence.’

‘Well, no man ever gives his card out in a non-business way unless he wants to shag you, that’s a fact.’

‘Hmm. I want to see him again though, despite him seeming quite cocky. It is just like looking at George.’

‘Are you sure that’s good for you, though Rubes?’

‘No, I’m not sure. But it doesn’t look like Michael’s coming back, does it?’

‘Well, from what you’ve been saying no, so OK go for it but be careful of that heart of yours. It has started to heal, so don’t let it get any more cracks, not yet eh?’

Fi got up and kissed Ruby on the forehead as Simon approached them.

‘Ding, dong, you must be the ravishing Fi I’ve heard all about.’

‘And you must be sexy Simon, leader of the pack.’ Their eyes locked.

‘So what are you two lovely ladies doing now the pub’s closing?’

‘Just back to mine for a coffee and bed probably,’ Ruby offered.

‘What - you’re sharing a bed? Nice work, ladies.’ His Scottish accent obviously came into play when he was aroused too.

‘Simon! What are you like?’

But he ignored Ruby’s profession of innocence.

‘So do you take your coffee black?’ Simon directed at Fi.

‘I might.’ She ran her tongue around her lips and pouted.

Simon revealed a bottle of rum secreted beneath his jacket.

‘Got any cream, Rubes? I say back to yours and we get the Jamaican coffees going.’

***

It had been an age since the Amerhand maisonette had been subject to the sound of a full-on mattress-squeaking sex session.

Ruby’s attempts to deter them had been completely overshadowed by their obvious lust. So all she could do now was put a pillow over her head and pray that the bowed Victorian ceiling wouldn’t cave in, and that in the morning her naughty mate wouldn’t regret her drunken antics.