Blue Moon (3 page)

Ruby made her way to the back of the coach, where her mother was sitting.

‘Glad you could make it, Ruby love,’ Bea smiled as her daughter came closer and kissed her cheek.

Bea Bateman looked older than her forty-two years. A constant nagging illness had worn her down. Every winter she would succumb to one cold after another, and when her chest was bad even breathing became difficult. Ruby was heartened to see that she was looking much better today and that she was wearing a new dress, an attractive peach-coloured two-piece with buttons down the front and a small belt at the waist. The white collar on the neckline was scalloped, as were the cuffs on her sleeves. Her skirt was straight with side-pleats, and she wore white peep-toed shoes. There was a bit of colour in her cheeks and she’d done something different to her hair.

‘You look really lovely,’ Ruby smiled.

Bea smoothed down her dress. ‘I’ve been saving up for ages to get this dress.’

‘The colour suits you,’ said Ruby, ‘and I love your hair.’

Bea patted her curls. ‘I tried finger-waving it,’ she
whispered confidentially, then added anxiously, ‘You don’t think I’m too old for it, do you?’

‘No, Mum,’ Ruby smiled. ‘I think you look fantastic.’

Ruby settled down. She was really looking forward to this afternoon and, after her fraught morning, it was good to be with the family. When the coach moved off, it was pleasant to feel the breeze playing with her hair through the open window, and it cooled her down. As May struggled to sit on her big sister’s lap, Bea handed her daughter a sandwich.

‘Ooh, thanks, Mum,’ said Ruby. ‘I had to go without lunch, to get away this early.’ True to her word, she didn’t say anything about Imogen Russell.

‘Did Mrs Fosdyke make trouble?’ asked Bea.

Ruby nodded. The ham-and-tomato sandwich was delicious. ‘For an awful minute,’ she said, as she pushed a stray crumb back into her mouth with her finger, ‘I thought she was going to make sure I was too late for the coach.’

Bea shook her head in disgust.

‘Why would she want to do that?’ May wondered.

‘Some people enjoy being unkind,’ her mother said simply.

Ruby glanced around. ‘Where’s Percy?’ There seemed to be no sign of her brother.

‘He and Jim Searle have gone ahead on their bicycles,’ said her mother. ‘They took a few others in tow as well.’

‘He’d better lay off the parsnip wine when he gets there, if he wants to get home safely,’ Ruby chuckled.

‘I don’t think he’d get drunk, with your father around,’ said Bea.

‘You know Percy,’ Ruby laughed, as she helped herself to another sandwich. ‘He’d do anything for devilment.’

The coach was one of the old Fairway Coaches. The company had been bought out by Southdown the year before, and some of the old stock sold off. Cecil Turner had snapped up this one, and used it mainly for works outings and day-trips. The coaches were in good nick but rather old-fashioned, so Cecil’s prices were dirt cheap. Ruby and her neighbours and friends could never have afforded to book the trip otherwise. They were going to drive around on a kind of mystery tour and then, after tea in the High Salvington tea rooms, some of them would take part in a small concert. They had managed to sell about forty-eight tickets, and all proceeds would go to the Dispensary for Sick Animals of the Poor.

They had just reached Broadwater bridge when the driver suddenly braked. A few people cried out in shocked surprise, and everybody stopped talking as he sounded the horn.

‘What the hell do they think they’re doing?’ his angry voice rang out.

They had encountered a crowd of young men marching down the middle of the street. Ruby hazarded a guess that there were about fifteen of them. Dressed entirely in black, they were clean-shaven and had smart Brylcreemed hair. Their leader, a fresh-faced man of about twenty, carried a Union Jack on a long pole. They
had attracted a crowd of angry onlookers, mostly men of the same age, and fists were flying. Everyone was jostling and pushing as the crowd shouted slogans like ‘Mosley out!’ and ‘Hitler means war’, whilst a few marchers had lunged into the crowd and begun hitting back.

Ruby frowned. What on earth was happening? Suddenly, the man with the flag on a pole swung it at the hecklers like a weapon, and an angry shout went up. Some ducked to miss the pole, but a couple of them were hit and fell backwards. It was then that she could see two more of the men in black shirts laying into someone who had been knocked to the ground.

‘I don’t like it,’ May whispered, with a frightened expression on her face.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s all right. They can’t get in here.’

‘I’m going back to Pa,’ said May.

When she’d gone, Ruby turned to her mother. ‘Who are they?’

‘They look like Mosley’s Blackshirts,’ somebody further down the coach said and, at the same moment, one of the men banged ferociously on the side of the coach with a silver-topped stick. After that, it seemed like all hell broke loose. Ruby drew in her breath as she saw the man who had been knocked to the ground struggle to his feet. It was Dr Palmer. His face was bloodied and his suit was covered in dust. His glasses were hanging from one ear only, and he took out a
large handkerchief and pressed it to a bleeding cut on his head.

The coach still hadn’t moved. Ruby flew down to the front. ‘Cecil, we have to help that man,’ she cried. ‘I know him. He’s a doctor.’

‘Sit down, girl,’ growled her father as she drew level with him. ‘Don’t interfere.’

‘It’s best to do as your father says,’ said Albert with a smile.

Ruby frowned. She might have been surprised by his remark, but her concern for Dr Palmer was so strong that she wasn’t listening. She had to do something. Pulling the door open, she leaned out as far as she dared. ‘Dr Palmer! Dr Palmer, over here, quick. You’ll be safe in here.’

Cecil Turner stopped the engine. ‘Ruby, get back inside,’ he said anxiously. ‘Let me. It’s no place for a girl.’

‘Ruby!’ barked her father.

Moments before Cecil pulled her back into the coach, Dr Palmer looked up and saw Ruby. He headed towards her, but then someone bumped into him and he almost fell over again. He was clearly very dazed. Although the fighting was getting worse, it was spilling away from the coach, so Albert Longman pushed past Ruby and went outside. He and Cecil got Dr Palmer inside, and the door closed just as the first police whistle sounded.

‘Ooh, Albert,’ said one of the girls further down the coach, ‘you were amazing.’

‘You’re ever so brave,’ said another.

Albert’s chest swelled and, basking in the glow of his success, he wet his fingers in his mouth and, pressing his hair down at the front, grinned at Ruby. He seemed oblivious of the other girls’ giggles.

Two of the other passengers, who were sitting together at the front, helped Dr Palmer into a seat and produced a mug of tea from a flask. He was clearly very shaken.

Cecil jumped into the driver’s seat and cursed out loud. ‘Looks like we’d better get out of here,’ he shouted as he put the engine into gear. ‘If the police come aboard to ask questions, we’ll be here all day; ’ang on to yer ’ats, folks.’

The vehicle lurched forward, but then a boy brandishing a toy gun appeared in front of the windscreen and Cecil jammed on the brakes again. ‘Bloody ’ell.’

The boy was shouting, ‘Bang-bang!’ Nelson yelled at him and the boy stuck out his tongue. Nelson jumped to his feet. ‘Cheeky young tyke,’ he shouted, shaking his fist angrily.

‘Let it go, Nelson,’ said Cecil. The fight was on the move again, and the weight of the bodies outside buffeted the coach.

Ruby’s father ignored him and, climbing down the step, attempted to open the door. It wasn’t a wise move. The coach jerked and Nelson fell sideways, hitting his head on the rail. Quick as a flash, Albert and one of the other passengers dashed to his aid and then, with one hand on the horn, Cecil finally managed to get away from the melee outside.

Nelson moaned as Albert held a handkerchief to his nose.

‘What on earth did you think you were doing, Nelson?’ Cecil cried, as he kept an eye on the road.

‘No boy his age sticks his tongue out at me like that,’ Nelson countered angrily. ‘What he needs is a damned good hiding.’

‘Oh, come on. He was just a lad having a bit of fun,’ said Cecil. ‘I’ll admit he was a bit daft, getting in front of the coach like that, but no harm done.’

Nelson grunted.

‘Keep your hair on, Nelson,’ said Cecil good-naturedly. ‘You were young yourself once.’

Bea had come to the front of the coach to help her husband, but he knocked her hand away. ‘Don’t fuss, woman.’

Dr Palmer’s attitude was totally different. He knew that he’d been rescued, and wasted no time in telling everybody how wonderful they were. It had obviously been quite a shock to get beaten up, and Ruby could see that his hands were still trembling.

‘I’m afraid we can’t take you back to Warnes, sir,’ she said, ‘but would you like us to put you down somewhere? You could get a bus back to town, or maybe a train?’

Dr Palmer dabbed his sore cheek. A livid bruise was forming. ‘Where are you all going?’

Ruby explained about the mystery tour and the concert.

‘You’re welcome to tag along too,’ said Cecil over
his shoulder. He was coming up to Offington crossroads, the events at the bridge being far behind them now.

‘Then I shall elect to do just that,’ said Dr Palmer, closing his eyes and relaxing against the headrest, ‘if you don’t mind. I think I should enjoy a ride around the countryside.’

Ruby was still concerned. He was no spring chicken and he had had a nasty experience. She glanced anxiously at the people gathered around them. ‘Do you think he’s all right?’ she whispered.

‘The old boy does look a bit pale,’ Cousin Lily whispered.

‘The old boy is perfectly fine,’ said Dr Palmer, without opening his eyes. ‘A little tired, that’s all. Let him rest for a while and he’ll soon bounce back.’

The passengers melted away, but Ruby and Bea lingered with him a little longer. Ruby was pleased to see that the rise and fall of his chest had calmed and the colour was returning to his face, but the bruise on his cheek was quite pronounced and his bottom lip was swollen.

‘Would you like to sit in my seat?’ said Albert.

Dr Palmer opened his eyes. ‘Still here, Miss Bateman?’

Ruby took in her breath. ‘How did you know my name?’ she blurted out.

‘It’s hard to ignore Mrs Fosdyke barking her orders,’ he said, resettling himself more comfortably in his seat. ‘Bit of a dragon, isn’t she?’

Ruby grinned. ‘It’s not for me to say, sir.’

‘Then take it from me,’ said Dr Palmer, closing his
eyes again, ‘she is. Now, run along and let me rest. I’ll be fine.’

As Ruby and Bea made their way back to their seats, friends and neighbours alike asked, ‘Is he all right?’ as they walked past. Her mother said, ‘Yes, thank you,’ but Ruby had a sneaky feeling that they weren’t asking about her father.

Once the coach had got under way, everyone’s relief was palpable, but the incident had them talking for quite a while.

‘I honestly thought they were all coming inside, when Mr Bateman opened the door.’

‘Fancy beating up a doctor, for goodness’ sake. Whatever next?’

‘From what I could see, they weren’t doing anything except marching down the street with a flag. It was the rest of those hooligans who were causing trouble.’

‘My cousin went to a BUF meeting once. He saw Mosley himself.’

‘Well, I for one don’t want to hear him. Looks like they’re nothing but trouble, to me.’

‘What does BUF stand for?’

‘British Union of Fascists.’

At the front of the coach, Albert Longman leaned over the back of his seat. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Mr Bateman? That was quite a whack you got.’

‘I’m fine,’ said Nelson as he dabbed his sore nose. ‘It’s my own fault, for having such high standards.’

Albert grunted in a sign of appreciation.

Nelson gave him the handkerchief back. Holding it
between his thumb and forefinger, Albert was unsure what to do with it.

The coach journeyed on and everyone settled down. Bea leaned towards her daughter. ‘Who is that man you pulled onto the bus?’

‘One of the guests at Warnes,’ said Ruby. ‘He’s very nice.’

‘I hope you’re not getting yourself too involved,’ Bea remarked cautiously.

‘Mum!’ said Ruby. ‘He’s old enough to be my grandfather!’ She paused. ‘Father didn’t upset you too much?’

Bea sighed and shook her head. ‘I was only trying to help him.’

‘I know.’ Ruby squeezed her hand. ‘I’m surprised he came. He doesn’t much like family outings.’

‘May persuaded him,’ said Bea. ‘That girl could persuade the Pope to join the Baptists.’

Ruby giggled.

Her mother had made a joke of it, but Ruby could see she was still upset. She kept hold of Bea’s hand and they spent a few minutes wrapped in a companionable silence.

Outside the window the pretty Sussex countryside sped by. From Crockhurst Hill they motored on to Arundel, and then they were on their way to Bury Hill, but Ruby’s thoughts were miles away. She was remembering the way Dr Palmer had helped Miss Imogen. Not many men of his age would have been so sensitive to her predicament. He hadn’t judged her, and he’d done his best to help her keep her secret. That’s why it was
so hard to understand why he’d been treated so badly by the Blackshirts. Why on earth would anyone want to beat up a nice man like that?

CHAPTER 2

Cousin Lily, who had been chatting to some of their friends and neighbours, made her way to the back of the coach and sat next to Ruby. She was a pretty blonde, and petite. Ruby admired her lightweight pale-lemon lawn dress with tiny white dots all over it. As she moved, it flowed around her body, showing every contour.

‘I’ve just got engaged,’ she announced as she sat down beside them.

‘What – again?’ The words slipped out of Ruby’s mouth before she’d had time to think.

‘Well, it is a whole month since I broke off with Tommy Dixon,’ said Lily indignantly. She held out her left hand for them to admire her ring.

This was Lily’s third engagement in two years. As soon as she’d left school, she’d got herself engaged to William Warner, breaking it off almost as soon as she’d put on the diamond solitaire he’d given her. Ruby felt sorry for him. She knew it had taken William the best part of a whole year to save up for the ring, but as soon as his mother found out what he’d done, the engagement was off. Tommy Dixon hadn’t fared much
better, either. He and Lily had been stepping out for about three months when he’d given her a pretty ring with a diamond cluster and a small emerald at the centre. The engagement had lasted barely a month. Ruby had been sad to see Tommy go. He was a nice man. And now here Lily was with another ring: a minuscule ruby inside a diamond-shaped setting.