East End Angel (29 page)

The following day, Saturday, after Ruby returned from work, she and Pearl caught the bus to Poplar. With the news about the doodlebugs not coming over so much, Ruby was in a good mood. Gwen was minding Cynthia and Ricky had offered to cook supper. Pearl had left vegetables on the drainer and opened a tin of sardines for fish pie, to make it easy. Although he still wore his gloves he said his hands were much better. Each night Ruby washed the gloves out and hung them on the line to dry, making Pearl smile as she tugged at them like cow’s udders.

‘Ricky wants to show he’s still useful,’ said Ruby as they sat on the back seat of the bus. It was hot and the sun shone through the windows onto their bare arms. ‘It’s just that he don’t like showing his missing fingers.’

‘What about his burns?’ Pearl paused. ‘Don’t answer if it upsets you.’

‘It’s not that,’ Ruby shrugged. ‘It’s just that he don’t say much about what happened. The scars are still red across his chest and he don’t take his vest off.’

‘The pain must have been awful.’

‘He said he was lucky. Some of his mates didn’t make it, although they tried to hold on to the lifeboats.’

‘Didn’t the rescue ships come along?’

‘No, they didn’t want to be torpedoed themselves. If your ship goes down, you don’t stand much chance in the sea. And sometimes the merchant ships only have four escorts and the German wolf packs are huge.’

‘Wolf packs?’

‘That’s what they call the subs when they hunt in packs.’

Pearl sighed softly. ‘Little did we know what was going to happen at the beginning of the war when the
City of Benares
was torpedoed.’

‘Yes, all them poor kids on a harmless refugee ship sailing to Canada! It was said that even the Germans were sorry to have killed so many youngsters.’

Pearl nodded. ‘But our side has done bad things too, only we ain’t told about them.’

‘You sound like a right rebel.’

‘I don’t believe everything I hear on the wireless.’

Ruby shuddered visibly. ‘For myself, it wasn’t the Blitz that terrified me, it’s these doodlebugs. It’s that noise they make. It’s worse than the Luftwaffe. God, I’ll remember it all me life.’

They were silent for a moment, considering this, until finally Ruby said slowly, ‘Pearl, me and Ricky feel it’s not fair to put on you much longer. I mean, you’re sleeping on a camp bed and there’s us in the lap of luxury.’

‘I don’t mind.’

‘If this war does come to an end, Jim will be home.’ Pearl glanced at her sister. What kind of reply should she give? But Ruby was quick to continue. ‘If Jim is demobbed, he’ll want his bed back.’

‘It’s not happened yet.’

Ruby held up her hand to shield her face from the sunshine. ‘Actually, Mum and Dad want us to go and visit.’

‘I didn’t read that in her letter.’

‘Mum gave me her neighbour’s telephone number to ring. A girl called Patty.’

‘You kept that one quiet.’

‘I wanted to talk to Ricky before I said anything, as I didn’t know if he’d want to go there until he’s well enough.’

‘And does he?’

Ruby looked down. ‘No, he don’t, not yet.’ Once again they were silent until Ruby said, ‘I can’t wait to see our dresses.’

‘What will we do for shoes?’

‘Don’t know. We’ll have to see the colour first.’

‘I can’t afford new ones but I’ve still got me wedding shoes, so perhaps they’d be all right.’

‘The ones that looked as if the person who had them before had bunions?’ asked Ruby.

Pearl turned to see a big smile on her face and they didn’t stop laughing until the bus stopped in Poplar.

*    *    *

‘The measurements Emily gave me were perfect,’ said Hope Haskins in a quiet voice, pushing her spectacles along the bridge of her nose with the tip of her little finger. ‘The dresses fit perfectly. Look in the mirror.’

Pearl and Ruby stood side by side in front of the long mirror hanging on the wall. They had been surprised at how nice Hope’s house was inside, even though outside it was over the High Street tobacconist’s. The building was three floors high and the attic room was for Hope’s dressmaking business. It was a long climb up the narrow flights of stairs but was worth it. Amidst the rolls of materials, overflowing shelves and drawers was a long worktop stretching from wall to wall. Beside it stood a full-sized headless mannequin. In the corner was a treadle sewing machine and another counter hidden under a mountain of cotton, scissors, threads and boxes of pins.

‘Oh, this is lovely!’ exclaimed Ruby as she twirled around and the skirt of the plum-coloured dress opened in full.

‘And look at this embroidery on the waistbands,’ Pearl said as she smoothed her hands over her dress. ‘It’s so well finished.’

‘I’m glad you like them. The shade is enhanced by your colouring.’

Pearl thought how nicely Hope spoke. She used long words like ‘enhanced’. She had been very clever to make such stunning gowns. With a few nip and tucks, the dresses seemed complete.

‘Now, to the hems,’ said Hope, sitting back on her heels. ‘An inch higher, don’t you think, Ruby?’

Ruby, who was shorter than Pearl, nodded. ‘Yes, to keep up with the fashion.’

Hope made the change, then looked at Pearl’s slightly large bodice. ‘If you’ll raise your arms . . .?’

Once again she made the adjustments, taking pins from a sponge tied on her wrist.

‘That will do.’ She frowned, causing Pearl to smile as she looked so much like Colin. Not as skinny as Colin, but she had that same studious expression under her spectacles.

After the fitting, Pearl didn’t want to take off her dress. It reminded her of the feminine clothes she used to like to wear before the war. How could she have let herself go like this? All her attempts to resist utility wear had failed. And now there was little choice on the market stalls either.

Ruby slid the dress over her arms. Pearl tried hiding her grey underwear. Her petticoat and bras had had so many washes they were thin and discoloured. Her brown skirt and fawn blouse looked old and tired in comparison.

‘Do you need us again?’ Ruby asked, buttoning up her blouse.

‘I’ll let Emily know if I do.’

‘Can we see Em’s dress?’ Pearl asked.

‘I don’t see why not.’ Hope led them out of the room and down the stairs to the living quarters. Two small children were sitting with an older woman on the couch. ‘My mother and my children,’ Hope introduced. The boy was about six or seven, the girl a little younger. They looked up from the floor where they had been playing and said hello. The older lady, dressed in a smart suit with her hair coiled stylishly at the back of her head, merely nodded.

Hope took them into a bedroom. Pearl noted how well furnished it was, with an art deco suite of furniture and big double bed with a silk cover. Inside the shiny wardrobe was Em’s wedding dress.

‘I keep my finished pieces in here,’ explained Hope, carefully bringing out the gown and laying it on the bed. It was stunning, long and slender, with lace sleeves and a ruffled neckline.

‘Oh, it’s a dream,’ said Ruby, the envy clear in her voice. ‘Has it got a veil?’

‘Yes, I’m working on that at the moment.’

‘You’re so clever,’ said Pearl, noting the tiny, embroidered stitches around the cuffs. ‘Em’s a lucky girl.’

‘I would say that Colin is luckier,’ said Hope with a smile. ‘He has very high standards and Mother and I had almost given up hope that he’d find the right girl. Have you known Emily for long?’

Pearl nodded. ‘I used to work with her in the Borough Surveyor’s department.’

‘She speaks very highly of you.’

‘Does she?’ Pearl blushed.

‘And Cynthia, of course. Which reminds me, would you like me to make a dress for your daughter with the remnants of the material? She’s two, isn’t she?’

Pearl was delighted. ‘She will be, a week before Em and Colin get married.’

‘I’ll style it as a smock to allow for growth so she can wear it to parties afterwards. All the measurement I will need is her height.’

‘That’s good of you,’ said Pearl. Not that Cynthia had any parties to go to.

On their way out the two children both said goodbye politely, as did Hope’s mother.

Sitting on the bus, Ruby was the first to comment. ‘Ain’t they posh, Pearl? Did you hear the way Hope called her mum “Mother”? And those two kids – it was definitely the King’s English they spoke, not cockney like us.’

‘I’m not surprised, as Colin speaks well.’

‘Has Em ever mentioned her in-laws-to-be?’

‘No. But once Colin did. Don’t you remember? It was when they looked after Cynth that weekend. He said that him and Em sometimes looked after his sister’s children.’

Ruby was pensive. ‘I’d like my kids to grow up somewhere nice like North London. I should start watching me p’s and q’s. Ricky speaks nice and I don’t want to let him down.’

‘Where was he born?’ Pearl said, trying to recall what she knew of Ricky’s background.

‘Blackheath. On the other side of the river.’

‘How did he come to the island?’

‘His parents were well off, but they died and Ricky had to make his own way in the world. I suppose he just landed up here. But he’s always wanted to better himself. It’s just unlucky that the navy put paid to his dreams.’

Pearl glanced at her sister. ‘But you’ll make other ones between you.’

‘I don’t seem to be getting pregnant.’

Pearl smiled. ‘You will when you don’t try.’

Ruby turned away again. Pearl wondered if this was what was worrying her. She wished she could tell her sister that once she too had thought that, after a miscarriage, another child might not come along. Yet Cynth had been born, a healthy bouncing baby, conceived the night that she and Jim had slept on the couch together. Pearl sighed to herself. The secret of her affair with Ricky and miscarriage could never be shared. It was a memory that she alone had to bear.

‘What about a wedding present?’ asked Pearl, looking out of the window at the shops.

‘Dunno,’ said Ruby disinterestedly. ‘It will have to be cheap.’

‘What about linen?’ said Pearl. ‘If we started saving now, we’d have enough coupons between us. You could give sheets and me pillowslips. We could embroider E and C on the corners to make them personal.’

Ruby shrugged. ‘If you like.’

Pearl knew that whatever they gave would be appreciated by Em, even if it was only sheets and slips. But she knew that Ruby was ashamed because they couldn’t buy something that would befit Em’s grand new lifestyle in North London.

On 7 September, the Chairman of the War Cabinet Committee for defence against German bombs, Duncan Sandys, made an announcement. ‘Except for possibly a few last shots of V1s,’ he confidently told the nation, ‘the attacks on London are over.’

‘No more doodlebugs, thank God!’ Ruby exclaimed that night as she sat on the stool in the bedroom, brushing her hair. ‘Won’t it be wonderful?’ She glanced over her bare shoulder to the bed where her husband lay.

He was reading a newspaper and she knew he didn’t want to be disturbed. What was going through his mind? Why couldn’t she penetrate the wall he’d built round him since leaving hospital? Was he like this because of his injuries? If only they had made love and could enjoy each other physically. But lately his desire for her seemed to have cooled. If she looked at him, as she wanted to, with desire, he turned away. If she looked elsewhere and talked instead, that irritated him too.

Returning the brush to the drawer, she stood up. Her deep blue nightdress was the one she had worn for their hotel rendezvous. He had wanted her so much then. Was it her fault that the physical side of their marriage wasn’t working out? She would give anything to make him want her like that again.

She shivered in the cold room and folded back the eiderdown. ‘Ricky?’ she whispered as she slipped in beside him.

He didn’t reply and Ruby slid her arm around his waist. He gave her a brief glance, but his eyes showed no expression.

‘Can we talk?’

‘What about?’ he murmured, still reading the paper.

‘Well,’ she began a little resentfully, ‘can you put that down. Or is what you’re reading more important than us?’ She touched the buttons of his long-sleeved vest lightly, knowing how self-conscious he was of the scars underneath.

He folded the paper away. ‘So, what is it you want us to talk about?’

‘Everything,’ she answered, relieved to have caught his attention. ‘Like what we’re going to do with our lives. Where we’ll live. How many children we’ll have—’

‘I’ve not had the sniff of a job,’ he interrupted her angrily, ‘and we haven’t got a bean to our name, no savings and very little to cover the costs of daily expenses. How can you expect me to comment on a future?’

‘But we should make plans.’

‘There are none to make.’

‘Don’t say that.’ She ran her hand down to his thigh. ‘I thought after we were married—’

‘You thought,’ he snapped, pushing her away, ‘that marriage would somehow cure this unsightly body of mine and solve all the problems that now seem to be ten times worse than they were before.’