Blue Moon (5 page)

She glanced back and, to her amazement, saw her father striding away from them all down the hill. ‘Father’s walking home!’ she gasped.

‘Good riddance,’ said Percy.

‘But what about May?’ cried Ruby.

‘It’s about time May understood what Father is really like,’ said Percy.

‘Oh, she’ll be so disappointed,’ said Ruby.

‘She’ll get over it,’ said Percy flatly.

Albert was back. ‘Would you care to walk further down the meadow?’

‘No, thanks,’ said Ruby cheerfully. ‘You go ahead. I prefer to be on my own.’

Albert pushed his hands into his pockets and set off sulkily down the hill.

The meadow at the top of the lane was full of wild flowers. Ruby marvelled at the way the colours always seemed to blend together. The lady’s bedstraw and the scentless mayweed, which looked like the kind of yellow
and white daisies you’d find in any cottage garden, danced in the grass alongside the gentle violet of the field scabious and the more vibrant common knapweed. It was so lovely and peaceful. Why couldn’t life always be like this? If she wasn’t dodging Mrs Fosdyke, she was trying to keep the peace between Percy and Father. Life was like a war zone, even without Mosley and Mussolini and their cronies stirring up dissention everywhere.

Further down the meadow, Percy had run ahead of her and was trying to put a handful of grass down Cousin Lily’s back. She ran off screaming in delight. She might be getting engaged every five minutes, but Ruby couldn’t imagine Lily as a married woman. Ruby herself didn’t join in with the fun and games. Instead, she stood with her arms folded and enjoyed the view.

Jim came and stood beside her, and they watched a skylark soaring high in the air to hover above the grass.

‘Look at that,’ she whispered, without turning her head to look at him.

‘I wish I had my camera with me,’ said Jim. The skylark, singing its heart out, plunged a few feet and rose again. ‘Beautiful.’

She became aware that they were alone and, even more disconcertingly, Jim wasn’t watching the bird; he was looking at her. ‘You look so attractive, with the wind playing with your hair like that. I’d like to take a picture of you sometime.’

Ruby felt herself blush. ‘Oh, go on with you, James Searle,’ she said, pushing his arm playfully.

‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘You’re very photogenic.’

She turned away and the skylark dived down, probably having spotted some insects to eat. Ruby could feel herself becoming self-conscious. Jim was so handsome. When they were at school, all the girls liked him. Of course he was a couple of years above her year, and he’d never even looked at her. His name had been linked to Martha Greenway, and there was talk that perhaps they might marry.

The silence between them was becoming so awkward that Ruby felt the need to say something. ‘I heard that you’re working at Warwick Studios,’ she said. ‘How are you getting on with your photography?’

‘I’m really enjoying it,’ he said, his enthusiasm shining through. ‘I’m learning all about the business, and I’m being stretched all the time.’

‘So what comes next? Have you got any ambitions?’

‘Not sure,’ he said. ‘I’d rather like to be a newspaper photographer. There’s always good money to be made for on-the-spot pictures.’

‘So you’re driven by money,’ she teased.

‘Absolutely not,’ said Jim, suddenly serious. ‘I just want to be at the forefront of what’s going on.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Ruby, blushing. ‘That must have sounded rather rude. I didn’t mean it to. No offence.’

‘None taken,’ Jim smiled. ‘What about you? I heard that you went to work in Warnes Hotel. What’s it like?’

‘Very strict,’ said Ruby, ‘but I know I’m getting a good training and, if I ever wanted a reference, there’s none better than a good one from Warnes.’

‘And do you have ambitions?’

‘Well, that’s a first,’ Ruby chuckled, ‘someone asking me if I have ambitions.’

‘Why not?’ said Jim.

‘I know what I’ve got to do and what’s expected of me, but I’ve never even dared to think what I’d
like
to do,’ said Ruby.

‘Now’s your chance,’ Jim smiled. ‘What do you enjoy?’

‘Being with people, I suppose,’ she said. ‘I’m not supposed to talk to them, but I enjoy hearing what the guests have been up to. You meet such interesting people.’

‘Would you like to travel?’

‘That’s hardly likely to happen to someone like me,’ said Ruby wistfully.

‘But if you could …?’

‘I’d like to speak another language,’ she said, her eyes bright with excitement. ‘I love it when the foreign guests talk to each other. I try to imagine what they are saying.’

‘Who is this beautiful chambermaid?’ said Jim, making his voice sound like a foreigner speaking bad English.

‘Oh, I’m sure they’d never say that,’ Ruby laughed.

‘Have you ever thought of trying the WEA?’ he asked.

‘Whatever’s that?’ cried Ruby.

‘The Workers’ Educational Association,’ said Jim. ‘They do classes for working-class people.’ He paused. ‘They’re not very expensive.’

Ruby pulled the corners of her mouth down and shook her head. ‘Never heard of them.’

There was a short pause and then he said, ‘You know, I think every one of us gets at least one chance in life to change direction. It happened, for me, when I was watching Mr Hayward taking some pictures of the pier.’

‘I remember Percy telling me the story,’ Ruby smiled. ‘He asked you if you wanted to look into the viewfinder.’

Jim nodded. ‘I was fascinated right from the word go. I was just a kid, but Mr Hayward told me if I still felt the same about photography when I left school, I should come to his studios.’

‘And you did?’ said Ruby.

‘I nearly didn’t,’ said Jim. ‘The people in the Home wanted me to be a nurseryman. They even had a job lined up for me, in the glasshouses along the Littlehampton Road.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Ruby. For a moment she had quite forgotten that Jim was an orphan and was brought up in a children’s home. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you.’

‘Don’t be,’ said Jim. ‘It’s life.’

‘Were they upset that you didn’t want to work in the glasshouses?’

‘For a while,’ said Jim, ‘but then they could see that a love of the camera was in my blood.’

‘Making choices is fine for a boy,’ said Ruby. ‘Girls don’t have that luxury. Girls are expected to get married. They won’t have a lot of time for anything else, once children come along.’

‘One day you will get your chance to follow your
dreams,’ said Jim. ‘Just be sure of what you want, and don’t let anything get in the way.’

‘You sound like one of those agony aunts in magazines,’ Ruby chuckled.

They stood quietly side-by-side, and Ruby began to think of other things. Was Jim still stepping out with Martha? The last she’d heard, Martha had got a well-paid job with a titled family and was saving hard, because she and Jim were practically engaged. She chewed the inside of her mouth anxiously. In the end she had to ask him. ‘How is Martha? Does she still write to you?’ But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ruby could have kicked herself. Why did she have to bring up Martha Greenway?

‘She’s fine,’ said Jim. ‘She’s coming back to Worthing in a couple of months.’

‘It’ll be good to see her again,’ said Ruby. As a matter of fact she didn’t really care one way or the other, but it was something to say. Although she had nothing against Martha, she and Martha Greenway had never been the best of pals.

‘I guess so,’ said Jim with a shrug.

His remark puzzled Ruby. He’d made it sound as if he wasn’t bothered if he never saw Martha again.

There was a shout, and they knew it was time to go back to the tea rooms. Ruby shivered and rubbed her bare arms.

‘Cold?’ asked Jim.

‘It is a bit chilly,’ she conceded. He took off his coat
and threw it over her shoulders. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said.

As they walked back to the mill, Ruby pulled the sleeves around her. Jim’s coat was lovely and warm, and it smelled of him.

CHAPTER 3

The little concert was a great success and everyone agreed that it had been a lovely day. With the proceeds from the raffle as well, they had raised £4 19s. 6d. Of course May had been disappointed that her father wasn’t there to hear her sing her solo, but the encouragement and praise she got from everyone else more than made up for it. On the way home she fell asleep on Bea’s lap on the coach, and Albert Longman carried her back into the cottage, almost falling over a suitcase left by the front door. Ruby carried it into the scullery and put her sister to bed. By the time she’d done all that, Albert had gone and she was ready for bed herself. She had to be up at five the next day to make sure she was at the hotel by six. It wouldn’t do to upset Mrs Fosdyke.

Ruby began her new day at Warnes Hotel by cleaning the front step as usual, followed by the dining room and the hallway. After using the Vactric, she had to dust every piece of furniture, straighten every cushion and, in the winter, lay the fires. Now that it was summer, she had to dust around the big flower arrangement in the hearth and pick up any cigarette ends that the guests
had thrown into the empty grate. As she worked, a couple of flowers fell out of the vase. Winnie, the florist, wasn’t due in that day, so Ruby stuffed them back as best she could. She was sure Winnie would have made a much better job of it, but it was the best she could do.

Ruby enjoyed this part of her work the most, because she wasn’t alone. The other cleaners and chambermaids joined in and they all worked together. Few people were up at that time of the morning. Breakfast wasn’t until eight-thirty, unless a guest specifically asked for an earlier one, so even the kitchen staff didn’t appear much before seven. As part of her privileged position, Mrs Fosdyke didn’t come on duty until eight forty-five, so the girls could chat as they worked. There was too much to do to indulge in frivolity, and Ruby kept them in line, but at least they could catch up with everybody’s news.

Most girls were about Ruby’s age, although Phyllis Dawson had been in the hotel for more than twenty years. They called her a ‘simple girl’ because there were things she couldn’t understand and she got very upset if she was told off, but Phyllis had a sweet nature. She liked working with Ruby, so she stuck close.

Edith Parsons came from the area of Worthing called Heene, where she lived with her widowed mother and three siblings. A rather plain girl with dowdy clothes, Edith was a little older than Ruby and she had already had a hard life. Her father had died of tuberculosis about a year ago and, young as she was, Edith was the main breadwinner in the house. Her mother took in
washing and cleaned at the local public baths to make ends meet, but Ruby knew Edith had little time for fun.

Doris Fox was by far the prettiest of the chambermaids. At nineteen, she had blonde hair and blue eyes and a fashionably slim figure, perfect for the long-line dresses so favoured at the moment. She was stepping out with a taxi driver she’d met at one of the dances at the Assembly Hall, and Ruby felt it wouldn’t be long before she left to get married. Unemployment wasn’t as bad in Worthing as it was in other parts of the country, but no self-respecting hotel employed young married women. A woman’s place was in the home, especially once children came along; and besides, there were plenty of single young women who would jump at the chance to work for a prestigious employer like the Warnes Hotel.

‘So come on, Ruby,’ said Doris. ‘Tell us all about yesterday.’

Ruby made sure they were all doing specific jobs, and then Doris, Edith and Phyllis were all ears as she told them about her rescue of Dr Palmer, and about the concert they’d all enjoyed on the hill.

‘We began with a couple of old Sussex songs,’ she said. ‘“Sussex Won’t be Druv” and “Sussex by the Sea”.’

‘I like that one,’ said Phyllis, and immediately started humming the tune.

‘Everyone was touched by May’s sweet solo,’ Ruby went on. ‘I saw several people wiping away a tear or two as she sang and, when she’d finished, the applause went on for a very long time.’

‘Aaah,’ sighed Doris. ‘I wish I’d been there.’

‘Nice doing things as a family,’ said Edith wistfully.

Embarrassed, Ruby turned her head. She had deliberately left out the bit about the row with Percy, and her father stalking off in a huff, but then some things were best left private. She was now on her hands and knees, dusting the ornamental legs of an Indian-style table. Once it was dusted, she put a little polish on a cloth and gave the legs a shine. She loved the smell of lavender and took pride in her work.

‘I suppose your brother went up on his bicycle?’ said Doris.

‘He did,’ said Ruby. ‘Quite a few of the cycling club went with him.’ She named a few names, including that of Jim Searle.

‘Oooh,’ said Edith. ‘Did Martha come as well?’

With a little stab of jealousy, Ruby shook her head.

Doris pulled the corners of her mouth down. ‘So did Dr Palmer stay to the bitter end?’ she asked.

Ruby nodded. ‘I was quite surprised,’ she said. ‘I mean, the singing wasn’t the sort of quality he must be used to.’

‘But he enjoyed it,’ said Doris.

‘Actually, he was quite generous in his praise.’

‘How did he get home?’ Doris was putting a vase of limp flowers onto a trolley, ready to push it into the outside kitchen. ‘You never brought him back here in the coach, did you?’

‘We did,’ said Ruby. ‘Right to the door.’

‘Blimey,’ said Doris. ‘Talk about lowering the tone. A coach outside Warnes Hotel. Whatever next?’

The four of them laughed, although Ruby had a sneaky feeling that Phyllis didn’t really understand why.

They heard pots and pans clanging in the kitchen and knew that the chef must have arrived and that breakfast was on its way. Before long, a delicious smell of bacon filtered through, and it was time to move into other areas of the hotel. They wheeled the flowers into the outside kitchen and laid the table in the staffroom. Breakfast for them would come much later, between nine and ten, and would have to be taken in haste, and in shifts. No guest had to be kept waiting, so their needs came first. Ruby was grateful for her meals. Some were much better than she could expect at home, but she often ate cold bacon and congealed eggs because she had been delayed in coming to the table.