All My Tomorrows (35 page)

Steve Cameron and Lucy seemed to be hitting it off rather well, and they all shuffled around so they could sit beside one another and continue their discussion about winter skiing – which was a passion that Lucy had never revealed to Ruby.

Michael kept his questions almost impersonal, never probing too deeply into her marriage or her life in London, and seemed happy to tell Ruby about his growing up on a ranch in Saskatchewan, and his interrupted career in the Canadian Mounted Police before he enlisted into the Royal Regiment of Canada.

‘Is it true that a Canadian Mountie always gets his man?’ Ruby teased.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he replied and grinned. ‘And the uniform helps to get the girl sometimes, too.’

Ruby laughed and resisted asking him if he had a girl at home. ‘I just bet it does. Is that why you chose to join a regiment with such a glamorous uniform?’

He looked a little bashful. ‘I always admired the Grenadier Guards, and the uniform is very similar. We even wear busbies when on regimental parade.’

Ruby giggled, feeling much easier with him now he wasn’t flirting with her. ‘I used to go and watch them changing the guard at Buckingham Palace with me mum and dad when I were little – and I never did work out ’ow they could see where they was going under all that fur.’

‘Bearskin,’ he gently corrected her. ‘And we lift our chins and look down our noses to see where we’re going, and I don’t mind telling you, it can get mighty hot under there at times.’

‘I thought it were freezing cold in Canada?’

He smiled at her. ‘It is in winter, with snow piled higher than the rooftops, but the summers are warm.’

The lights went out and they settled down to watch the main feature film. Ruby was still on her guard, but he’d shown no signs of trying to hold her hand or get fresh, and she’d enjoyed listening to his stories about Canada. He seemed to be a genuinely nice man – but then they all were until they got what they were after, she thought cynically. Better to keep him at a distance and her guard up than to fall foul of yet another sweet-talking predator.

The film slowly drew her away from the church hall and the people surrounding her and she found she was laughing at the jokes, her feet tapping along in time to the music as the dance routines swirled across the screen. It was a happy, lively film and she felt quite sad when it was over and the lights went back on.

‘Can we walk you girls home?’ asked Michael. ‘Or we could go to the pub and have a drink, if you’d prefer. We don’t have to be back on base until midnight and Steve has borrowed a car.’

‘We were planning on having fish and chips,’ said Lucy before Ruby could think of a polite way of refusing their offer.

‘Hey, that sounds a great idea. I’ve heard a lot about your English fish and chips, but never had a chance to try them out.’

Ruby realised she would be seen as a bit of a spoilsport if she demurred, so she linked arms with Lucy and they led the way back to the High Street and the chippy. There must have been a fresh delivery of fish, for there was plenty on offer, and Ruby ordered four cod with chips and plenty of salt and vinegar, and insisted each of them paid for their share – it might only be fish and chips, but they didn’t know these men well enough for them to buy their dinner.

The heat seeped through the newspaper as they carried their supper down to a low brick wall which stood in front of a bomb site. Despite the blackout, there was enough light from the moon to see that Cliffehaven High Street was bustling with life. The drinkers spilled out of the pubs onto the pavements to escape the noise of badly played pianos and the fog of cigarette smoke. Girls were dressed up to the nines and walked arm-in-arm in giggling gaggles down the street as the servicemen strolled about in hunting packs, and the Yanks roared up and down in their jeeps, wolf-whistling and catcalling every girl they passed.

‘It’s a lively little town, isn’t it?’ said Michael as he finished the last of his supper and lobbed the newspaper into a nearby rubbish bin. ‘How about we go for that drink now? The pubs are open for another half hour, so we’ve time.’

‘Me and Lucy have to be at work early tomorrow,’ Ruby said quickly before Lucy could answer. ‘And I gotta finish me letter to me ’usband so I can post it in the morning.’ It would do no harm to remind Mike Taylor that she was a married woman. ‘Ta ever so for your company.’

‘Do you have far to go?’ he asked. ‘Only Steve and I would gladly see you both home safely.’

Ruby could see that Lucy was beginning to waver and so quickly tucked her hand into the crook of her arm. ‘Nah, it ain’t far, but thanks for the offer. Goodnight.’ She turned away and set off at a brisk walk down the High Street.

‘Why didn’t you let them see us home, Ruby? We haven’t got to be at work tomorrow and they were ever so nice.’

‘Because walking us home might give ’em ideas if they should pass a dark alley or a shop doorway,’ Ruby replied. ‘Nice they might be, but give ’em an inch and they’ll take a mile. Trust me, Lucy. I know what I’m talking about.’

‘But Steve’s not like that. I’m sure he isn’t – and neither is Mike.’

‘You know what they’re sayin’ about the Yanks, Lucy. Over-paid, over-sexed and over ’ere. Who’s to say the Canadians ain’t just the same?’

Lucy tugged on her arm, forcing her to stop walking. ‘You’ve been sharp all evening. What’s got into you, Ruby?’

She drew a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t mean to be so cross. But you’re only seventeen, and you don’t really know nothing about either of them to judge what they’re like. They could be married for all we know – or engaged – and I bet that at the very least, they’ve got girlfriends at home who are trusting them not to stray.’

Lucy looked thoughtful as she dug her hands into her coat pockets. ‘You kept very quiet about Mike,’ she said finally. ‘How come you know him?’

‘We met on the train coming down here,’ she replied with studied nonchalance. ‘I never expected to see him again, so it was a bit of a shock him turning up like that out of the blue.’

Lucy giggled. ‘You’ve gone all red, Ruby. But I can’t say I blame you. He obviously likes you, and is quite the thing, isn’t he?’

Ruby did her best to appear unfazed. ‘I’m a married woman, Lucy,’ she reminded her – and herself, ‘and blokes that ’andsome are dangerous.’

Lucy gave a shiver of delight. ‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘Lovely, isn’t it?’

Ruby giggled as she once again linked arms. ‘Come on, Lucy. The sooner you gets home, the sooner you can dream about ’im.’

Chapter Nineteen

RUBY LAY IN
the comfortable bed and watched the sky turn pearly grey as she thought about the previous evening. She’d probably been a little hard on Mike and Steve, darkening their intentions with her cynicism, but Lucy was far too naïve for her own good, and she’d felt responsible for her. And yet she regretted being so bossy, for she’d enjoyed the evening, and against her better judgement would have liked to see Mike again, for she’d found him interesting to talk to. Hopefully he would take her none-too-subtle hint that she wasn’t interested, and stay away from now on, for he was an added complication to her life that she simply didn’t need.

Ruby’s thoughts turned inevitably to her mother and Ray. It was frustrating and very worrying not to know what was happening up in London, and because she couldn’t give anyone her address, there was no way of discovering if Ray was still alive – or, more importantly, if her mother was safe. Perhaps, once Peggy came home, she’d ask if she could use the telephone to call the Tanner’s Arms.

Deciding this would be a good idea, she then turned her mind to the difficult task of getting into Peggy’s bedroom. She had no idea of Doris’s daily routine, and if she was discovered poking about in the cupboards, there would be hell to pay. Ron and Cordelia were part of this secret plan of escape, and it seemed logical to ask one of them to get the clothes, or at least distract Doris while she went in there.

Ruby finally climbed out of bed. It was still very early, but the habits of years were deeply ingrained, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep again. Having washed, she dressed in trousers, blouse and sweater, in preparation for the promised ride on Rita’s motorbike, and then spent a few minutes applying make-up to hide the grazes on her face, and the still-angry red scar on her forehead.

When she eventually went into the kitchen, it was to find Ron washing out Harvey’s food bowls and boiling up a mess of bread, egg and milk for his ferrets while Doris tutted her disapproval and warmed Daisy’s bottle.

Cordelia was eating porridge and scanning the newspapers. She looked up and smiled at Ruby. ‘Good morning, my dear,’ she said brightly. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’

Ruby glanced out of the heavily taped kitchen window. ‘It looks as if it might be quite sunny,’ she replied before ladling some of the porridge into a bowl and pouring a cup of tea.

‘If you like your eggs runny, then you should only put them in for a minute or two,’ said Cordelia. ‘I’d eat that porridge first, if I were you. Eggs need watching.’

Ruby frowned at this and then saw Ron twirling his fingers by his ear and realised Cordelia’s hearing aid wasn’t working.

Cordelia seemed oblivious to this. ‘Have you got any plans for your day off? Only the WI has arranged a charabanc outing for the Cliffehaven pensioners, and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you came along with me.’

Ruby grinned at the thought of an outing with a busload of pensioners. ‘Ta ever so, but me and Rita are going out on her bike today,’ she said loudly and clearly.

Cordelia wrinkled her little nose. ‘Nasty smelly thing,’ she muttered. ‘I really don’t see the attraction, but Rita seems to like nothing better than to charge about on it. I suppose she’s told you about the races she organises?’

Ruby nodded. ‘Yeah, and I think it’s a brilliant way to raise money for a Spitfire. She told me there’s almost three hundred quid in the kitty, so with only another couple of hundred to go, she’s almost on target.’

‘Rita is not the only one who helps to raise funds,’ said Doris as she fed Daisy her bottle. ‘Aye sit on several highly respected charitable committees in the town and it has always been our aim to provide Cliffehaven with its very own Spitfire.’ She sniffed. ‘Motorcycle racing is hardly the most appropriate way to fundraise.’

Cordelia fiddled with her hearing aid, clearly confused by the conversation she couldn’t hear properly.

‘It doesn’t matter how it’s raised,’ said Ron, ‘and I wouldn’t mind betting that Rita pulls in more money with her races than you do with your snooty tea parties.’

Doris looked down her nose at him and made no comment as she finished feeding Daisy. Having wiped her face clean with a damp flannel, she carried her into the hall and strapped her into the pram with some of her toys.

‘I would appreciate it if you could lift the pram down into the back garden, Ronan,’ she said on her return. ‘Daisy needs some fresh air.’

‘Aye, I’ll do that when I’ve fed Flora and Dora.’

He stumped down the cellar steps and Doris gave an exasperated sigh. ‘It comes to something when ferrets take precedence over a granddaughter,’ she muttered. She eyed the sink full of dirty dishes with distaste and turned back to Ruby. ‘When you’ve finished eating you can do the washing-up,’ she said in her commanding voice. ‘There is also a pile of dirty nappies that need seeing to, and as it’s your day off, you might as well do something useful to earn your keep.’

‘Ruby and I will see to the washing-up,’ said Cordelia firmly. ‘But the nappies are down to you, Doris. I did warn you they needed doing every day, and as you’ve taken it upon yourself to organise Daisy, then you must also see to the less pleasant tasks.’ Cordelia regarded her without affection. ‘After all, Doris, you’re the only one in this house with time on your hands, and so far, you’ve managed to avoid doing both the dishes and the laundry.’

‘I had plans for today,’ she said stiffly.

‘It’s still early enough to do the washing and get it on the line before you have to be anywhere.’

There was a hint of panic in Doris’s expression. ‘But I don’t know how to light the boiler, and my manicure will be ruined.’

‘Ron will show you how to light the boiler,’ said Cordelia, ‘and there are rubber gloves under the sink.’ She smiled at Ruby. ‘I can’t do much with this arm in plaster, but if you see to the dirty crocks, I’ll put everything away and tidy up.’

Doris wrinkled her nose as she reached under the sink for the bucket of nappies and rubber gloves, and carried them at arm’s-length down to the scullery. ‘Ronan,’ she ordered, ‘hurry up and bring Daisy into the garden, and then you must show me how this infernal boiler works.’

Cordelia rolled her eyes. ‘Do you think that woman regards all of us as her servants?’ she asked in exasperation.

Ruby grinned. ‘Yeah, I think she does,’ she agreed. Now that Cordelia’s hearing aid was working properly, Ruby saw her chance to have a quiet word with her. She turned on the taps and began to fill the sink with hot water. ‘Peggy asked me to do something for her today,’ she said quietly, ‘and I’m going to need your help.’

‘What’s that, dear? Peggy’s going away?’

Ruby realised she couldn’t hear her properly over the sound of the running water, and Doris was still too close to talk any louder, so she shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she replied.

‘She’s not going away, dear,’ said Cordelia with a chuckle. ‘Or rather, she
is
leaving, but I’m not allowed to say because it’s secret.’

Ruby put her finger to her lips. ‘I know,’ she mouthed.

Cordelia was looking a bit flushed as she giggled and nudged Ruby. ‘I do love secrets, don’t you?’

Ruby nodded and again put her finger to her lips to warn Cordelia to keep quiet. Her only option now was to get Ron on his own. As she began the washing-up, she could hear him telling Doris how to light the boiler, and her loud complaints about being forced to do such menial work when there were others in the house far more suited to such tasks. It seemed Doris really did think they were all her servants. It was a puzzle to Ruby that two sisters could be so very different, for Peggy wasn’t in the least bit grand or snobbish.