Blue Moon (37 page)

‘Pardon me?’ said Ruby, startled.

‘“Where’s she working now?”’ said Lily, mimicking Albert sarcastically. ‘“What time is she off? Is she going to marry Jim?” On and on he went.’

Ruby pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I always made it very clear that I wasn’t interested. He was too old.’ She felt her face colour. Lily was practically the same age as her. ‘I mean, you’re nearly a year older than me,’ she went on, ‘and that makes all the difference.’

Lily nodded miserably. ‘I just want him back.’

CHAPTER 32

It was busy at the hospital. The wards were crowded and extra beds had been brought in to the middle of the room. Worthing had been suffering from a bad dose of carelessness. People were having accidents left, right and centre. It was strange how things like this happened, especially when there was no common underlying cause. The previous summer, a sudden hot spell brought patients suffering from sunburn, sunstroke and dehydration; during the winter the admissions went up because of falls on the ice and broken limbs, and in February there had been a cluster of influenza patients. In the run-up to Easter there was no real reason why the hospital should suddenly double its intake, but it did.

It made life difficult for the ward maids. Ruby struggled to get between the beds and it was hard to keep the floors clean, with so much extra traffic. She worked hard as usual, but once again she became aware that she was being watched. She would often ‘feel’ someone behind her, or standing in a doorway; but, if she spun round, that person would be gone or going. It made her feel uncomfortable and not a little nervous. Was she
doing something wrong? She always took great care about her appearance, pinning her hair under her cap and making sure she changed her coarse apron frequently. She tried to see to any extra requests as quickly as was humanly possible, but for the first time since she’d come to the hospital Ruby was unsettled.

At home, although money was a lot tighter without John’s rent, in some respects things were easier. She and her mother got along well. Bea’s health had improved, so she was able to take on a lot more of the household responsibilities, which meant that Ruby could occasionally have a little free time to herself.

Now that spring was just around the corner, it was time to do the spring-cleaning. The accumulated soot from the open fires had to be washed from the walls. Picture frames, mirrors and the mantelpiece, which had collected a film of grime through the winter months, had to be thoroughly cleaned. There were carpets to brush by hand and beat in the open air. And all that had to be done alongside the normal washing. Each week the sheets were boiled in the copper in the scullery, put through the mangle a couple of times, rinsed by hand and put through the mangle again, before they could be hung out to dry. Spring-cleaning meant that the window curtains and the heavy door hangings, which helped to conserve the heat during the cold weather, had to be washed as well. Bea was able, for the first time in many months, to do her fair share. As Ruby cleaned the windows with one part vinegar to four parts water, she understood why the government discouraged
married women from working. If she was a young mum, it would be difficult to do everything at home and hold down a job.

Jim came round most evenings, but the enthusiasm he’d brought back from Wimborne was beginning to wane. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in his own ideas, but, with virtually no resources, it was hard to see how he could even begin to fulfil his dreams.

‘I think people like us – when they’re on holiday – want more than a picture postcard,’ he told Ruby one evening. They were all sitting together in the kitchen. May was in bed, and Ruby was doing the ironing with the flat irons on the range. ‘What they want is a picture of themselves at the seaside.’

‘The likes of us could never afford a camera,’ Ruby laughed.

‘Exactly,’ said Jim. ‘That’s why I’m convinced there’s a vast untapped market out there for holiday snaps.’

‘Don’t just talk about it,’ said Bea. ‘Give them what they want.’

‘With all due respect, Mrs Bateman,’ said Jim, ‘my boss would never allow me to use his studio to feather my own nest. Photographs for the lower classes are not something he’d want to be associated with.’

‘Did anything ever come of you possibly taking over, when Mr Hayward retires?’ asked Bea.

Jim shook his head. ‘He isn’t interested in being a sleeping partner,’ he said. ‘He wants to cash in his assets and enjoy the rest of his life.’

‘I don’t suppose I blame him,’ said Bea. ‘He’s worked hard all his life.’

‘He’s putting everything up for sale very shortly,’ said Jim, ‘which is why I thought snapping day-trippers would be a good idea.’

‘There must be some way you could do it,’ said Bea.

‘What would you need, if you did do it?’ asked Ruby.

‘A darkroom, for a start,’ said Jim. ‘If I take pictures along the promenade, the holidaymakers are only there for a few days. They’ll want to take their pictures home with them.’

‘Is that possible?’ asked Ruby.

‘If I had a helper,’ said Jim. ‘I can’t take the pictures and do the developing at the same time. And hiring a place to do the developing would need capital.’

‘You could use John’s shed, couldn’t you?’ said Bea.

Jim and Ruby stared at her and then at each other. ‘That’s a very generous offer, Mrs Bateman,’ Jim began, ‘but you could get good rent money for that room. I’m not in a position …’

‘If you were family, we could all share in your venture.’

Ruby gasped. ‘What are you saying, Mother?’

‘I’m saying that if you and Jim were married sooner rather than later, we could all help out.’

‘It’s one hell of a risk,’ said Jim.

‘All marriages are,’ Bea grinned.

Jim’s face coloured. ‘I … I didn’t mean that,’ he began.

‘I know,’ said Bea. ‘I was teasing.’

‘I still need capital,’ said Jim, shaking his head.

‘Linton left me a little money,’ said Bea. ‘I’m willing to risk mine to give you a leg up.’

Jim’s mouth dropped open.

‘I didn’t know that!’ cried Ruby. ‘Oh, Mother, that’s wonderful. You deserve it.’

‘I’m not sure how much it is,’ said Bea, ‘but Mabel thinks it may be as much as fifty pounds.’

‘Fifty pounds!’ cried Ruby. ‘Oh, Jim.’

‘He’s left some to you and May as well,’ said Bea. ‘I shall save May’s in a Post Office savings account. It could be twenty pounds.’

‘Then you must have mine too,’ said Ruby. ‘Sixty pounds could go a long way.’

‘
Each
,’ said Bea. ‘He left you twenty pounds each.’

By now Ruby was laughing. Jim looked totally speechless, but there were tears in his eyes.

Bea smiled benevolently. ‘So what’s it to be, Jim?’

He grasped Ruby’s hands and kissed them. ‘Would you like to marry me this year, Ruby?’

‘Oh yes, Jim Searle. Yes, a thousand times yes!’

With Linton’s funeral over, and his will finally settled, the family turned their thoughts to Ruby’s wedding. It was going to be a low-key affair. Ruby decided to make her own dress, and Aunt Vinny volunteered to make a bridesmaid’s dress for Cousin Lily. Lily was less fragile now and, as a matter of fact, she had a new beau, although she was determined to take things a lot slower this time. Nick Wilkins was already besotted with her.

Friends and neighbours had promised to help with
the food by doing a loaf of sandwiches or a dozen cakes for the reception, and Jim’s boss said he would take a studio portrait picture for them on the day. They chose Saturday, August 5th; the following Monday was the summer bank holiday, which meant that Jim and Ruby could have a couple of days off before going back to work. By way of a honeymoon, Jim booked a coach trip with Cecil’s Turner’s coaches, which happened to be going to Eastbourne for the day.

Edith and the other girls were thrilled when Ruby told them about the wedding. Ruby had sneaked into the hotel the back way, and they were all in the staffroom when she told them.

‘If you have it after three o’clock, we should all be able to come,’ said Phyllis. ‘Oh, please say you’ll invite us.’

‘Of course I will,’ laughed Ruby. ‘And I want you all to come to the reception, if you can.’

‘We should be able to come for a while,’ said Edith, ‘but then we’ll have to get back to turn down the beds.’

‘Count me in too,’ said Doris. ‘I love a good party.’

‘Who’s having a party?’ The door squeaked open and Winnie made everybody jump as she came up behind them. She was carrying a vase of dead flowers and was on her way to the utility room to dispose of them.

‘You nearly gave me a heart attack,’ Doris exclaimed as she clutched at her chest. ‘I thought you were old Flossie Fosdyke.’

‘Ruby is getting married,’ said Edith, ‘and she’s invited us all to the wedding.’

‘Everyone?’ said Winnie. She turned to Ruby with a quizzical arch of her eyebrow.

‘Everyone,’ said Edith.

‘How lovely,’ said Winnie. ‘Then I should love to come.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Ruby.

‘I’m afraid I cannot buy you a present,’ said Winnie apologetically.

‘That’s fine,’ said Ruby. ‘Just come.’

‘I could always do your bridal bouquet.’

‘What?’ Ruby gasped. ‘Would you? Would you really?’

They heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. ‘Oh, Lummy Charlie – quick,’ Phyllis hissed. ‘It’s Mrs Fosdyke.’

The girls busied themselves with various bits of equipment, in an attempt to make it look as if they all had a legitimate reason for being there, while Ruby hid behind the door of the open cupboard.

‘What are you all doing in here, pray?’ Mrs Fosdyke boomed. ‘Hurry up, all of you. Breakfast has started, and you need to be doing the rooms. Fox, where is your cap? And Parsons,’ she called after Edith, ‘I shan’t tell you again: don’t run – walk.’

Behind the door, Ruby held her breath and prayed. If Mrs Fosdyke saw her there, she would probably accuse her of trespass and demand that she go to the office, and that would make her late for work. As it was, Ruby would have to run like mad to get to the ward on time. Mrs Fosdyke’s eagle eyes searched the room. Winnie ignored the housekeeper and continued washing out the
smelly vase, ready to use for some new blooms. After a few seconds Mrs Fosdyke left the room and Ruby emerged from her hiding place.

‘Is it a big wedding?’ Winnie asked.

Ruby shook her head. ‘Just some friends and neighbours.’

‘I suppose things are a bit difficult, now that your poor father has died,’ Winifred began.

Ruby was at a loss to know what to say. She didn’t know the florist very well and was tempted to think it a little impertinent of her to raise such a subject. ‘We get by,’ she said.

‘I’m sure you do, dear,’ Winnie smiled. ‘Now tell me, what colours would you like in your bouquet?’

‘Ruby, would you come into my office?’

It was late afternoon, and the sister had stopped Ruby working in the kitchen. She had been washing up a couple of plates, knives and forks. Oh dear. She’d turned up five minutes late this morning. She had run all the way to the hospital, arriving hot, perspiring and out of breath, but she was still late getting onto the ward. Had someone reported her? Had her past caught up with her at last? Maybe someone from Warnes had told them that she’d been accused of theft and sacked. Her face suddenly felt clammy.
Please, God, don’t let this be happening
. She had been so happy, what with the wedding and all. She glanced around as she left the room. It was spotless.

The short walk to the sister’s office seemed like a
mile as her thoughts raced hither and thither, trying to work out why she was being summoned.

‘Close the door, dear,’ said the sister as they entered her office. The friendliness of her tone made Ruby relax. If she spoke so kindly to her, she probably wasn’t going to give her the sack after all. She closed the door and stood to attention in front of the desk. It was only then that she realized that Matron was sitting in front of her. Her heart sank.

‘Ruby, we are delighted with your work on the ward,’ said the sister, ‘but we feel that you are capable of much more. Unknown to you, the sisters from other wards have been watching you at different times of the day.’

Ruby blinked in surprise. So that was why she’d had the feeling she was being watched.

‘And,’ the sister continued, ‘they would like you to teach their ward maids how to run their wards. We’ve all had a word with Matron here, and she has agreed that you should receive a promotion.’

‘We are aware that you are still very young, but we want you to supervise all the wards in the hospital,’ said the matron. ‘We are putting you in charge of ordering the linen, making sure every ward is as clean as your own. And, where standards fall short, we want you to show the other girls how to do it. Do you think you can manage to do that, Ruby?’

She could hardly believe her ears and she certainly couldn’t contain the smile that raced across her lips. ‘Yes, Matron,’ she said with as much restraint as she could manage. ‘I’m sure I can.’

They spent some time discussing terms and conditions, and decided that she should start her new post at the beginning of May. When Ruby walked out of the sister’s office, she was no longer a humble ward maid, but the wards supervisor of Worthing Hospital. The sad thing was that she wouldn’t have the post for very long. It was a pity that the Board of Governors and the government didn’t allow married women to work in hospitals.

Ruby’s promotion had sent everyone into a frenzy of excitement and congratulations. All their neighbours agreed that she deserved it and wished her all the luck in the world. A week later it was Bea’s turn to be excited. When Ruby came home from work, she couldn’t wait to show her something.

‘I’ve had two letters,’ she said, even before Ruby had taken her coat off.

‘Two?’

May was clambering onto her sister’s knee to show her something she’d made at school. It was a piece of canvas, which had some large holes. May had embroidered it in coloured wool. The pattern wasn’t symmetrical, though it was obviously meant to be, but it was both eye-catching and colourful.