A Rare Ruby (14 page)

Ruby marvelled at her mother’s patience with her father as the sorry bunch slowly made their way back to Hill Street. She knew she would never possess such understanding.

Milly was sweeping the pavement outside her shop when she caught sight of them. She threw her broom to the ground and rushed across the road. ‘What’s happened? Can I help?’

‘Would you mind opening our front door, Milly?’ asked Ruby.

‘No, of course not. Has he had an accident?’ She reached up and took the key from the ledge above the front door and held it open for them to file through.

‘Sort of,’ said Ruby, hovering round her father and mother.

‘Sit him in his chair,’ said Mary Jenkins. ‘Ruby, pop up the pub and get a small drop of brandy.’

Ruby was breathless when she got to the pub and, bursting inside called out, ‘Please, could I have a small drop of brandy?’

‘You’re in a bit of a hurry, gel,’ said a customer who was standing at the bar.

Ruby ignored him and asked again, ‘Could I have a small brandy please?’

‘Sorry, love,’ said Mr Thompson, ‘but you’re too young.’

‘It ain’t for me, it’s for me dad. Mr Jenkins.’

‘What, Thomas Jenkins?’

Ruby nodded.

‘He been taken bad again?’

‘Yes. A horse almost knocked him down.’

‘No.’ Mr Thompson handed Ruby a glass with the brandy in. ‘You can give the glass to Beth to bring back. What happened?’

Ruby very quickly told him. ‘I’m sorry. I forgot to pick up any money.’

He smiled. ‘That’s all right, love. Have this one on me.’

Milly was still at the house when Ruby returned.

‘Here, Thomas, drink this.’ His wife held out the glass. His hands were shaking and he had to steady it with both hands.

Milly moved closer to Ruby and in a loud whisper asked, ‘Your mum told me what happened. D’you think you should call the doctor?’ She directed her question to Mary Jenkins.

‘Can’t afford it. He’ll be all right in a day or two. He’s just a bit shook up, that’s all.’ Mary Jenkins looked very worried. ‘The cut ain’t very deep. I’ve washed it and put a bit of iodine on it.’

‘Your mum said the horse didn’t actually hit him.’ Ruby could see Milly was very concerned.

‘No, but it came very close and was very fast.’

‘I wonder what made him so frightened?’

‘It was something to do with the war. He ain’t told us a lot about what happened,’ said Mary Jenkins.

‘Shame,’ said Milly.

‘Yes. He’s been doing so well since Beth’s been here, she’s been a Godsend the way she cheers him up.’

‘I’d better get back,’ said Milly.

‘How’s your dad these days?’ asked Mary Jenkins.

‘Much better, thanks. But he can’t stand for too long.’

‘He must be grateful to you and your mum.’

‘He gets a bit fed up at times.’

Ruby sat looking at her father. ‘I’m so sorry, Dad.’

‘I told you, Ruby, it wasn’t your fault,’ said her mother.

Milly touched Ruby’s shoulder. ‘People like that want locking up, Ruby. Pop over later and let me know how he is.’

She nodded. ‘Thanks, Milly.’

Milly left and Mrs Jenkins looked a little calmer. ‘I’ll make a cup of tea,’ she said.

‘I’ll do it, you sit with Dad. By the way, Mr Thompson said to give the glass back to Beth.’

‘Did you tell her?’

‘No. She wasn’t in the pub.’

‘That’s funny, she said she was going up there this morning. ’

‘I think I saw her in the park.’

‘Oh yes. That’s right. She had to go somewhere for him.’

Ruby didn’t mention that she thought she’d seen her with Alfie Anderson; she would see what Beth had to say about it first.

It upset Ruby to see her father, who in these past weeks had been getting more like the man he used to be, slip back into his old ways. He was sitting once more with his blanket round his hunched shoulders rocking back and forth. If only he would tell them what had happened during the war. If he talked about it, it might help him, and them, to understand.

It was now well past their usual dinnertime and Mr Cox came striding into the kitchen. He sat himself at the table. ‘Dinner’s late.’

‘Yes, I’m sorry. We’ve had a bit of an upset this morning.’ Mrs Jenkins lifted the steaming saucepan off the range and took it out into the washhouse.

‘Didn’t I see your daughter in the pub?’ he shouted.

‘Yes, you did,’ said Ruby. ‘I was buying me dad a drop of brandy.’

‘This laundry lark must pay well if you can afford to buy brandy.’

‘It was medicinal.’

He laughed. ‘I’ve heard that one before.’

Ruby was finding it hard to keep her patience with this man. ‘Me dad was in a accident.’

‘Don’t give me that. He never goes out.’

‘We went for a walk this morning.’ Why did she have to tell him all this?

‘Ruby. Take these plates in.’

She jumped up, pleased to be able to get away from Mr Cox.

When they were sitting down Mr Cox asked, ‘Where’s the girl?’

‘She’s doing something for Mr Thompson,’ said Mary Jenkins.

He grinned. ‘I bet she is. It’s well past closing time, so what’s she up to?’

‘It’s none of my business,’ said Mary.

‘She wasn’t behind the bar this lunchtime.’

‘As I said, it’s none of my business. Would you like some apple pie?’

Ruby wanted to smile. He hadn’t seen the size of the maggots that had been in the apples when she picked them up from behind the barrow. If she had her way she would have dished him up a couple.

 

It was evening when Beth came in.

‘Sorry I’m late, but I had to go over Jamaica Road way and hang about waiting to see someone.’

‘Did you manage to get some dinner?’ asked Mrs Jenkins.

‘Yes, thanks. Mr Thompson gave me some money to get meself a sandwich. Good job I took Danny’s bottle with me.’

‘Ruby thought she saw you in the park,’ said Tom.

‘Is that where you went?’

‘Yes. But we had to come home cos someone nearly knocked Dad over.’

‘No! Where is he? He didn’t have to go to hospital, did he?’

‘No, he’s gone to bed,’ said Mary Jenkins, and she told Beth what had happened.

‘I’ve seen those blokes on horseback. They think they own the park.’

‘I was going to come and ask you to walk with us,’ said Ruby.

‘It wasn’t me. I told you, I was over Jamaica Road.’

But Ruby knew that part of Southwark Park ran along Jamaica Road, so she could have been in there.

That night when they were in bed, Ruby decided she had to find out more about Beth. She sat up and, hugging her knees, said, ‘Beth, I know it was you in the park and you was talking to Alfie Anderson.’

‘Who’s he?’

‘One of the boys at the buildings.’

‘Never heard of him.’

‘It was his gang that set about Tom.’

‘I said at the time I didn’t see who it was and I certainly don’t know who this boy is.’

Ruby lay down and looked up at the ceiling. She knew it had been Beth, the pram was unmistakable. What did Beth have to hide? Ruby wanted to be friends with Beth, but how could she be if she wouldn’t tell her the truth?

But then she had to think of her father. He thought the world of Danny and the little lad’s presence had helped him so much. His face lit up whenever Danny was around. Now he was sitting up and crawling about Thomas was even more interested; he had even offered to feed him. So despite any of her own misgivings, she had to think of her father - even more so after today. He’d need all the love and help they could give him.

Beth too lay wakeful. She was getting worried. She should have been more careful. She knew they would hate her if they knew the truth about her.

 

One Monday morning a couple of weeks after the horse incident, Mrs Watson called Ruby and told her she was taking her out of the washroom and putting her in the pressing room, as one of the women was ill. There she would have to lift the huge, heavy lids on the pressing machines, then help fold the sheets making sure there weren’t any wrinkles. Although it was hot and hard work, the pay would be the same if she could keep up. At least in this room she had dry feet and legs and it was only her arms that ached, manhandling those lids. A week later Ruby was filled with dread when Mrs Watson called her out and told her she was moving her again. She couldn’t bear the thought of going back into the washroom.

‘You’re going in the ironing room, but first I want to see if you can iron a shirt. If you’re any good you can start in the collar room then go on to the finishing room.’

Ruby had been told that everybody hated the collar room. You couldn’t earn good money in there because the collars were so shiny and slippery, as fast as you piled them up so they would fall about, and you seemed to spend most of your time picking them up off the floor.

‘You want to think yourself lucky, you’re getting to know all the various stages of the work here,’ said Mrs Watson. ‘Most of the finishers start in the collar room.’

Ruby smiled.

‘You’ll be on piecework in there, so you have to make sure you work hard to earn your money. No chatting or larking about and you have to do it again if it isn’t up to scratch.’

In the ironing room the heavy gas irons were joined to the gas supply by a long pipe that ran overhead. The long tables they sat at were attached to the concrete floor and every so often they would work loose. The girls were younger than those in the washroom, but they were very loud, laughed a lot and were very bitchy. As soon as someone went out of the room they would talk about them. Ruby tried very hard to keep herself to herself. She didn’t laugh at their coarse dirty jokes - some of which she didn’t understand anyway - and after the first week earned herself the nickname of Miss Stuck-up.

When she was moved into the finishing room, the girls were worse.

One older girl looked Ruby up and down when she walked in.

‘Guess what? They called her Miss Stuck-up in there,’ she said, pointing towards the ironing room. ‘I’m Florrie, by the way. Don’t know why you’ve got your nose in the air, you’re only a bit of a kid, a laundry girl like the rest of us.’

‘I ain’t stuck-up. It’s just that I don’t like some of the things they said and did.’

‘See what I mean, gels? She don’t like what we say and do.’

Ruby didn’t like Florrie at all; she was flashy and crude. She was always telling everyone how good she was at her job and deserved something better. She was very proud of the fact that she didn’t wear drawers in the summer and thought it was great fun when the tables worked loose and the young maintenance lad had to crawl under the table to fix them. She told the rest of the girls she’d sit with her skirt up and her legs open and shout out: ‘All right, lad! Got yer eyeful?’

The poor young men used to come out all red-faced and embarrassed.

‘One of these days someone’s gonner grab hold of that if yer keep flashing it about,’ said another of the girls.

‘I’d like to see ’em try,’ said Florrie.

Although the job was better Ruby missed the women in the washroom with their jolly tales of their homes and families. She knew she would never find a friend in here, not like Elsie. One Saturday, when Ruby was out with Elsie, she told her about her latest move and Florrie.

‘That Florrie can be a right cow. I’ve had a couple of bust-ups with her in the past meself. She’s only doing it to make you feel small.’

‘She succeeds in doing that. I don’t know where to put me face sometimes.’

Elsie laughed. ‘You are a funny little thing. That’s a good job in the winter, and a dirty joke helps the time pass. At least you won’t get those horrible chilblains on your feet and hands in there.’

Some Saturdays Elsie brought Mary, one of the girls from the tea factory, with her. Since Elsie and Mary worked together they seemed to have much more in common than Ruby did with Elsie, now they had the same things to talk about, and sometimes Ruby felt like a stranger when they invited her along. Ruby hadn’t told Elsie she was sometimes seeing Ernie, she didn’t think she would approve of that.

Although the long warm nights meant Ruby could help her mother and Tom, she felt like life was slipping past her. She would be fifteen next month. She wanted something exciting in her life, but knew she’d never find it at the laundry or round Rotherhithe. If only she and Ernie could go somewhere interesting. It must be lovely to get away. Some evenings they would walk to the docks and stand and marvel at the big ships.

‘If it wasn’t for me mum I’d go to sea,’ said Ernie, leaning against the wall.

‘Would you?’

‘Yer.’ He threw the butt end of his cigarette over the wall and watched it float away.

‘I wish I could do something better with my life.’

Ernie looked at her. He held her hands and she thought she would die with pleasure. She liked him so much, but did he like her in the same way, or did he just need someone to talk to?

‘You’ve got plenty of time to do something more with your life. You’re . . . what? Still only fourteen?’

Ruby pulled herself up to her full five feet four and straightened her beret. ‘I’ll be fifteen in a month’s time.’

He smiled and Ruby thought her heart would burst.

‘You’ve got plenty of time then.’

Her mother had laughed at her when she told her she wanted to be more like Beth.

‘She’s always so full of life and enjoying meeting people at the pub.’

‘It’s your age. You’re getting restless,’ said her mother.

‘I wish I could work in a pub and meet different people.’

Beth, who had overheard, laughed. ‘You don’t see a lot of different people, it’s mostly drunks who ain’t interested in you, only what you’re serving, and making sure they’ve got a full measure.’