Blue Moon (19 page)

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’

‘What’s it to be then, Bateman?’ Lance Corporal Willis asked, as he and Percy left the building.

‘I’d rather stick with it, without any distractions,’ he said.

‘Good man,’ said Willis.

Percy enjoyed the camaraderie in the barrack rooms. He had made two particular friends, Edgar Mills and Barnabas West – known as Barney to his friends. They were about his own age and, until they’d joined the BUF, both had been unemployed. Edgar came from the East End, which he said was ‘swarming with bloody foreigners and Jews now’, and Barney came from Kent.

‘Everything all right?’ asked Edgar, as Percy walked back in.

Percy nodded.

The men were relaxing after a hard day of physical training and lectures. Percy stripped down to his vest and sat at a small table to write a letter, while Edgar, already in pyjamas, lay on his bunk reading a book. Barney was sitting on his bunk in his bare feet while he darned a sock.

‘What are you fellows going to do, when you leave here?’ asked Barney.

‘A pal of mine knows a chap who is looking for long-distance lorry drivers,’ Percy said. ‘I got him to promise to take me on.’

‘Lucky sod!’ said Edgar, putting his book down. ‘I ain’t got nuffink yet.’

‘You need to talk to Mick Clarke,’ said Percy. ‘He’s got contacts in the East End. There’s a whole network
you can tap into, now that you’re a Blackshirt. What do you fancy doing?’

Edgar shrugged.

‘There’s plenty of builders looking for brickies,’ said Barney. ‘I fancy the idea of building for the future.’

‘There’s a rally over in Shoreditch next week,’ said Percy, writing the address on an envelope. ‘They’re looking for volunteers to help keep order.’

‘Those big rallies can get violent,’ said Edgar. There was a hint of anxiety in his voice.

Barney leaned over the side of his bunk and nudged him playfully. ‘You great lummox! You’ve heard what Mosley says: “Ejection will only …”’

‘“… be carried out with minimum force.”’ The other two joined in, to finish the oft-quoted sentence, and then laughed.

‘You’ll only get trouble if the Communists are there,’ said Percy in a more sober mood. ‘They come in and stir up the locals.’

‘Who’s the letter for?’ asked Barney. ‘Girlfriend?’

‘My mother,’ said Percy. ‘I promised her I’d write. My father has been to our local HQ asking after me.’

‘Nothing wrong, I hope,’ said Edgar.

‘I’m sure if there was, my father would have said,’ said Percy. He licked the gum on the envelope and stuck it down and then, propping it on his locker, added, ‘I might hang onto it for another couple of days, until I’ve got the address for my new digs.’

‘No point in buying two stamps just for your mother, eh?’ Barney teased.

‘But you’ve already stuck it down,’ said Edgar.

‘Blimey,’ Percy laughed. ‘So I have.’

‘Where do you come from, Perce?’

‘Worthing,’ said Percy. ‘It’s about thirteen miles from Brighton.’

‘Nice,’ said Edgar.

‘Not much there,’ said Barney, holding up his sock for them to admire, ‘except the fishing.’

‘I wouldn’t mind a bit of fishing,’ said Edgar. ‘I had a go at it once. Only in the canal, mind, but it was quite good.’

‘You can keep it, as far as I’m concerned,’ said Percy, his expression darkening. ‘I hate fishing. My old man is a fisherman.’

‘You don’t fancy following in your father’s footsteps then?’ said Barney.

‘No, I bloody well don’t,’ replied Percy. He could feel the old anger rising in his chest. ‘I hate the sea. I hate the smell of fish.’ He dropped his voice. ‘And I can’t say I felt that great about the old man, either.’

‘Give you a bad time, did he?’ asked Edgar.

‘Something like that,’ said Percy, standing up. ‘All I know is, no matter what I bloody well did, there was no pleasing him.’

The two men watched him balling his hands into fists.

‘Some blokes are like that,’ said Edgar. ‘Was he in the Great War? My uncle was never the same when he came back. He ended up in the nut house.’

‘He never talks about it,’ said Percy bitterly, ‘and I never ask.’

‘Perhaps you should, mate,’ said Edgar. ‘He might be a bloomin’ hero.’

Percy scoffed out loud.

‘I reckon the next time you see him,’ said Barney with a reckless abandon, ‘you should ask him.’

‘There won’t be a next time,’ Percy frowned. ‘As far as I’m concerned, my old man is dead. It’s all over between me and him now, and he can rot in hell for all I care. If I never see him again as long as I live, even that will be too soon.’

He pulled a towel from his locker and threw it over his shoulder.

‘But surely you’d want to go back and see your mother?’ said Edgar, a little shocked by the vehemence in Percy’s voice. ‘What about your brothers and sisters?’

‘Perhaps he hasn’t got any,’ Barney observed.

‘I’ve got two sisters,’ said Percy, picking up his washbag. ‘Ruby is seventeen and May is seven.’

‘Well then,’ Edgar pushed, ‘you’ll want to see them, surely?’

‘I’m telling you now,’ said Percy, his eyes flashing, ‘while my old man is alive, I’m never going back.’ He headed for the door, then paused. ‘I have my reasons, but don’t ask me.’

‘You’d better hurry up with your ablutions,’ Barney called. ‘They’ll be playing “Sunset”, and it’s lights out in ten minutes.’

The door closed.

Edgar glanced at Barney. ‘Blimey. I’ve never seen him that worked up before.’

‘Not much love lost there then,’ Barney observed.

Edgar pulled down the blanket on his bed. ‘Poor ol’ Perce. I wonder what his old man did to him.’

It was Ruby’s first day off for weeks that she didn’t have to go to an inquest, see the undertaker, attend a funeral or have to sort out something to do with her father’s death. Freda Fosdyke had refused to give her any extra time off to settle her father’s affairs. With Percy being away, everything fell on Ruby’s shoulders, and she was tired: tired of having to put on a brave face; tired of having to think ahead; and tired of work. Apart from the rest of the formalities when the inquest would resume next Thursday in the new Town Hall, Ruby was back to the old routine.

She relaxed in bed for a bit, while her mother took May to school. Her
Pall Mall
magazine, which she’d smuggled home, had all but fallen to pieces, but she glanced through the pages again. There had been a terrible moment when her mother almost used it to light the fire, so now Ruby kept it upstairs with her other one.

‘What on earth do you want to keep that old thing for?’ Bea had asked. ‘You’ve already read it, haven’t you?’

Yes, she had … but that didn’t stop Ruby wanting to read it over and over again. She was excited today. Jim had the same day off, and they planned to catch
the bus to Brighton. The summer season was over of course, but in the run-up to Christmas the shops would be festive and it would be a welcome change of scene. Ruby dressed warmly because the weather was chilly, although thankfully it was dry. She hurried towards the pier head, where they had promised to meet. Jim waved as she came into view and she returned his greeting. Her excitement mounted. A whole day with Jim. What could be nicer?

He paid her fare and they sat at the top of the Southdown bus. Someone got off at Shoreham, which meant they could sit in the front seats. Ruby felt like a queen surveying her country as they looked down on the narrow streets and the winding road beside the port. Then they came to the wider roads of Hove and Brighton itself, busy with traffic and heaving with shoppers. Once they saw the great statue of Queen Victoria looking out to sea, Ruby knew it wouldn’t be long before they got out. The West Pier, then the Palace Pier, and they’d arrived at Pool Valley bus station. It was time to get off.

‘Shops or pier?’ asked Jim as their feet touched terra firma.

‘Pier,’ said Ruby. It was no contest. She longed to feel the wind in her hair and to fill her lungs with the salty sea air.

‘It’s the next inquest on Thursday,’ she reminded him, as he paid their tuppence each to walk on the Palace Pier.

He nodded.

The ice-cream kiosks, the kiss-me-quick hat stalls and the deckchairs were gone, but Jim bought a stick of rock for May, and Ruby bought them both a plate of cockles, after she’d noticed his lean and hungry look as he spotted them. The seller sprinkled them with a little white pepper and some vinegar, and they sat on a wooden bench to eat them. ‘When I was a kid living in the Home,’ said Jim, ‘we used to do this.’ He had his back half turned and, when he turned back, he pretended to take a winkle from his nostril, looked at it and ate it.

‘Ugh, you’re disgusting!’ she laughed as she gave him a playful shove. ‘I hope somebody gave you a smacked bottom.’

‘Nobody saw us except we kids,’ he said with a grin.

‘Were they all right with you?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I mean, they weren’t unkind to you or anything?’

Jim shook his head. ‘It wasn’t a bed of roses, but it was all right. The only thing I missed out on was having my own family. I never felt like I belonged.’

‘I wish Percy was here.’ Her voice was small.

‘I’ve been back to the BUF HQ four times now,’ said Jim, ‘but they still won’t tell me where he is.’

‘I don’t think that’s right,’ Ruby complained.

‘Neither do I,’ said Jim. ‘All they do is tell me he’s safe and being well cared for.’

‘He’s missed Father’s funeral,’ said Ruby, ‘and it looks like he’s going to miss the inquest as well. Do they realize his father has died?’

‘I’ve told them every time,’ said Jim.

He reached for her hand and enclosed it in his own.
Ruby’s heartbeat quickened. His hand was warm and big and gave her a delicious feeling. It was almost worth not having her brother around if Jim did this sort of thing. She didn’t think Percy would be heartbroken about his father, but she thought he should know about his death. Technically he was the head of the family and should take on his responsibilities. Why should it fall solely on her shoulders? Perhaps he’d enjoy fishing, now that he didn’t have to be with their father. She knew Nelson’s caustic criticisms were the cause of a lot of the trouble between them.

‘How are you getting along with Isaac?’ Jim asked.

‘We’ve got him fully installed in the old parlour,’ Ruby smiled. ‘He thinks it’s heaven on earth. Do you know, the only thing he brought from Germany to remember his family by was a half-finished place mat that his wife made.’

‘So sad,’ said Jim.

‘Right now,’ Ruby went on, ‘he’s trying to get the outhouse ready to use as a workshop. It’s a bit small, but he reckons he can fit everything in.’

‘It’s a marvellous thing you’re doing,’ said Jim, giving her hand a squeeze.

Ruby’s heart soared. ‘It benefits us all,’ she smiled.

Their cockles eaten, they stood again and strolled along the rest of the pier. A few fishermen were dotted along the boards, but it didn’t seem to be a good day for catching anything. Having ‘done’ the Palace Pier, they strolled along the front to the West Pier. It started to rain.

‘How about we find somewhere to eat?’ Jim said. ‘And then I’ll take you to the pictures.’

Ruby snuggled into his arm. ‘I’d like that,’ she smiled.

Down one of the narrow side-streets Jim found a small cafe with checked oilcloth on the tables. It looked clean and he could afford the prices. They ate egg and chips, and then they saw Paul Robeson in
The Emperor Jones
. Ruby loved his singing and enjoyed the story very much. On the bus home, Jim put his arm around her shoulders and she dozed, contented. They had spent enough time talking, so they walked back to her place in a companionable silence. By the front gate he slipped his arms around her waist and drew her close.

‘This has been the best day of my life,’ he said softly. ‘You’re a fantastic girl.’

Ruby took in her breath, and then tenderly and gently his lips met hers.

Once she was indoors and Jim was whistling his way down the street, he didn’t notice a shadowy figure following close behind.

CHAPTER 14

In contrast to the opening of the first part of Nelson’s inquest, the weather on the day it was reconvened, Thursday November 23rd, was cold and wet. People entered the room on the right of the new Town Hall on Stoke Abbott Road, shaking their umbrellas and removing wet coats. The floor in the entrance became wet and dirty in no time. Ruby pushed her damp hair away from her face, and water ran along the brim of Bea’s hat, trickling onto her collar.

The chairs were set out in rows. They were very modern, made of tubular steel with beige canvas seats and backs. There weren’t many, but Ruby noticed that if more were needed, there were plenty of others stacked together at the back of the room. The room itself had bare walls, and because of the weather outside it was dark. After a while someone put on the electric lights, although there were so few that it made little difference. Afterwards she tried to remember if the walls were wooden or just painted a dark colour. The floor was covered in dark-brown linoleum, and the light coming in through the rectangular windows was diffused by
their small Crittall frames. They were ushered into two seats near the front, facing the trestle table that served as a desk for the coroner.

Once settled, Ruby turned to see who else was in the room. A couple of policemen, some of the fishermen she’d seen on the beach that morning, and Coxswain Taylor of the Shoreham rescue boat, the man who had come to their house. A group of men sat to the left of the coroner’s chair, and Ruby guessed they must be the jury. She recognized a few of them as well: Mr Whittington, the fishmonger from Montague Street; Mr Watts from the shoe shop in Chapel Road; and Mr Pressley, who had a jeweller’s shop in South Street. There were others she knew, but couldn’t put a name to the face. She wished with all her heart that Jim was coming, but she knew he would be working.

The coroner, Dr Thomas Fox-Drayton, arrived promptly at ten-thirty and enquired whether the jury had been sworn in. After explaining why they were all assembled once again, he began by asking Bea some questions. She confirmed Nelson’s age, occupation and his address and that he had been in good health.