Blue Moon (39 page)

CHAPTER 34

Ruby was getting desperate. Her wedding day was getting ever closer and she still didn’t have anyone to give her away. There was no reply from Percy – not even to her second letter – and the family had a distinct shortage of male relatives.

Everything else was tickety-boo. Her dress was almost ready: just the hem to do and the cuffs on the sleeves. May’s dress was done, and Cousin Lily’s only had to have a second fitting before it could be completed. Her mother and Aunt Vinny had spent a rare day together in town and had bought their outfits. Bea had a lovely frock from Smith & Strange in South Street. Their clothes were normally way out of her league, but she had spotted a blue cotton dress with its own little bolero in the window; it was only twelve shillings and elevenpence and it fitted her perfectly. Aunt Vinny went for a navy dress with a white trim, and they complemented each other quite well. After that, the two of them had gone to the Dome to a hair-waving demonstration called ‘Waves of Desire’. An elderly woman who had been ‘Miss 1900’ in her youth sat with a lovely girl who had
just been crowned ‘Miss 1934’. They acted as models for the Eugene system of waving. Bea and Vinny would have loved to have a permanent wave but, at twelve and sixpence, it would cost almost as much as Bea’s dress!

Edith popped round to admire Ruby’s dress. It was hanging in the front parlour, which nobody used now.

‘It’s gorgeous, Roob,’ Edith said. ‘Oh, you’re so lucky.’

Ruby squeezed her friend’s arm sympathetically. ‘It’ll be your turn soon.’

‘I hope so,’ said Edith confidentially. ‘I can’t hold him off much longer.’

The two friends giggled. ‘What’s it like with Jim?’

‘We haven’t done it yet, but we struggle sometimes,’ said Ruby. ‘Still, we don’t have long to wait.’

‘Do you think it hurts?’ asked Edith. ‘When it goes in, I mean.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Ruby with a shiver.

‘Bernard showed me his once,’ said Edith, lowering her voice and coming closer. ‘Oh, Ruby, it was huge.’

Ruby made no comment, and her friend suddenly looked anxious, as if she’d betrayed a confidence.

‘So is Jim’s,’ said Ruby.

‘And hard,’ said Edith.

‘And pink,’ said Ruby, whereupon they had a fit of the giggles.

‘Who is going to give you away?’ asked Edith, suddenly serious again.

Ruby shrugged. ‘I’ve written to Percy twice, but he doesn’t reply. Either that, or they don’t give him my letters. That’s what happened the last time.’

‘Would you like me to ask Bernard?’ said Edith.

Ruby took in a breath. Of course! Bernard would be ideal. ‘Do you think he would do it?’

‘I’m sure he would,’ said Edith.

Ruby flung her arms round her friend’s shoulders and hugged her. ‘That would be wonderful.’ She had only met Bernard a few times, but he seemed very nice. He obviously loved Edith dearly. It wasn’t an ideal situation but, with no other men in her life, it solved a very pressing problem.

‘Then consider it done,’ said Edith.

Ruby paused as they walked out of the door. ‘The only thing is,’ she began, revelling in the naughtiness of their conversation, ‘after what you’ve just told me – you know, about Bernard’s thingy – I won’t be able to get it out of my mind.’

‘In that case,’ said Edith, ‘I’ll make a pact with you. You stop thinking about Bernard’s thingy and I’ll stop thinking about Jim’s.’ And, giggling helplessly, they joined Bea in the kitchen.

The crowds waited patiently. It was nearly time for the Albert Hall meeting. Percy stood in a long line of Blackshirts that snaked around the whole building. He had his back to the door with his feet slightly apart and his hands behind his back, and he remained at his post until the vast crowd had gone in, which happened with surprising speed.

As a flag-carrier, Percy then hurried to meet the others. The great man himself arrived not soon afterwards. This
was the first time Percy had seen him this close up. Mosley, tall with disturbingly dark staring eyes, a Roman nose, swept-back hair parted in the middle and a full moustache, was in full uniform, including jodhpurs and jackboots. As they waited for their cue, Mosley held his body stiffly. It was clear that he was becoming irritated by the delay, which Percy put down to nerves. He was nervous enough himself.

‘What are we damned well waiting for?’ Mosley demanded. He glared at Percy. ‘Who’s doing the bloody fanfare?’

Percy didn’t have a clue, but he knew he daren’t say so. Mosley didn’t suffer fools gladly.

Someone else waiting with them accidentally trod on Mosley’s toe and he exploded. ‘Good God, am I surrounded by bloody fools and imbeciles?’ He rounded on Percy again. ‘You,’ he barked. ‘Yes, you, boy. Get out there now. Go on, go on …’

Percy’s face flamed. No one had called him ‘boy’ since his father died. He didn’t like it then, and he sure as hell didn’t like it now.

At that moment the fanfare began and Mosley shoved Percy in the back. He was propelled through the curtain, and the roar that greeted him sent an instant tingle down his spine. Holding the flag upright with as much dignity as he could muster, he walked down into the arena and headed towards the massive organ, which seemed to be using every single one of its 9,000 pipes as it thundered a deafening peal. Another roar went up as everyone stood to their feet and he knew that Mosley had entered
the hall. The arc light swung away from him and Percy was left on his own to negotiate the stairs by memory, until his eyes became used to the gloom. The crowd, by now in a frenzy of excitement, chanted, ‘M-O-S-L-E-Y, Mosley’, as they clapped their hands and stamped their feet.

Percy reached the platform and someone came forward to receive his flag and place it in a specially constructed stand. His face was still hot, and he was furious. What Mosley had said was still ringing in his ears:
‘You, boy. Get out there now …’
He felt rather than saw Mosley come up behind him, and once again that rasping voice was right behind his ear. ‘Get out of the way, you nincompoop,’ Mosley hissed, his mouth tight with rage. As he turned to wave to the crowd, one of Mosley’s personal bodyguards pushed Percy to one side to make way for Mosley to climb the steps onto the platform. ‘Silly ass,’ he said as he walked past.

‘Silly ass, yourself,’ Percy snapped and knew in that moment that he was going to walk away from all this. Without so much as a glance in Mosley’s direction, Percy turned on his heel.

It took a while for the crowd to settle and then Mosley began his speech. He never used notes, but in no time at all he had his audience completely spell-bound. By the time the heckling started. Percy was almost at the back of the hall. He watched as the stewards moved in and removed the troublemakers. They did everything efficiently and with great skill, but it still troubled Percy.

A group of Blackshirts came up the stairs in front of
him, carrying a struggling body. As they stumbled by, Percy was disturbed by what he saw. The person was a young woman. Her clothes had been ripped from her upper body, exposing her underwear. One man had his huge hand pressed over her mouth and nose. Her head was being forced back, which must be causing her a great deal of discomfort, if not pain, and she clearly couldn’t breathe. Her eyes, wide and terrified, met Percy’s as he held the door open for the men to pass. They rushed her to the entrance and dumped her unceremoniously on the ground outside. Anxious that she might be badly hurt, Percy went to help. She was still on the ground, gasping for breath, and there was blood all over her hand. As soon as she saw Percy leaning over her, she recoiled.

‘It’s all right,’ he said softly. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

She looked up at him and he was horrified by the gaping wound on her cheek. The cut was bad, but even so, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

‘I think I had better get you to hospital,’ he said. ‘Are you able to walk down to the street? I can hail a taxi from there.’

The girl stood shakily to her feet. She was clearly weakened by her experience. Percy put his arm out to assist her and, although she nearly fainted a couple of times, they made their way to the road. As soon as they arrived at the hospital, the girl was whisked away.

‘You can wait there,’ said the nurse, indicating a row of chairs. She smiled admiringly at Percy’s uniform. ‘I
wish I could have been at the rally. I think Mosley is rather wonderful.’

Percy said nothing, but glanced up at the clock. The meeting would be drawing to a close by now.

The staff at Warnes Hotel were very helpful. Rex had arrived late on Thursday night and had woken up in the morning with a heavy head-cold. When the chambermaid, a delightful young woman called Edith, found him still in bed, she enquired if he needed a doctor. Rex felt like death warmed up and told her so. Prescribing himself hot lemon-and-honey drinks, aspirin and plenty of rest, he climbed back into bed.

Rex decided he couldn’t go to see Bea like this, and whatever had drawn him back to the town would have to wait. On Friday he woke up feeling a lot better. Edith made his bed and took his dirty washing to the hotel laundry. She had already made sure he had
The Times
and had been kind enough to look out a couple of books for him to read.
The Encyclopaedia of British Bees
looked as if it would be a bit dry, but
The Shape of Things to Come
by H. G. Wells looked a lot more promising and, at 420 pages long, Rex settled down for a good read.

Rex decided to sit by the balcony so that he could see the sea and watch the promenaders. For that reason he was glad he’d chosen Warnes rather than the Savoy this time.

‘You seem to be in a bit of a hurry today, Edith,’ he said, as she put his drink on the table beside him.

‘Oh, I am, sir,’ she smiled. ‘A friend of mine is getting married tomorrow and I am to be a bridesmaid.’

‘Ah,’ said Rex with a nod.

‘Mrs Fosdyke has given me a lot of extra jobs, to make up for the fact that I’m going off early,’ said Edith, glancing around the room to check that everything had been done.

‘Then I’m very grateful that you’ve looked after me so well,’ said Rex, feeling slightly guilty.

‘And that’s not all,’ Edith went on. ‘As my friend’s father has passed away and her brother can’t be found, my fiancé is going to give her away.’

‘Well, it sounds to me like you’ve got everything under control,’ Rex smiled indulgently.

‘Yes, sir.’ Edith hesitated. ‘Will that be all, sir?’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Rex. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,’ said Edith, giving a little bob.

He smiled as she left the room, a smile that quickly died as he heard the housekeeper’s ringing tones of disapproval.

‘You’d better get a move-on, Parsons, if you want that time off tomorrow. Number thirty-six hasn’t been touched yet, and then there’s the linen cupboard to tidy.’

‘Yes, Mrs Fosdyke,’ he heard Edith say.

‘You girls expect far too much these days.’

Rex frowned. The woman was hardly being reasonable. It was
his
fault poor Edith was behind with her work, and yet the girl herself hadn’t made him feel the least bit awkward about it. There was a sharp rap on
the door and a tall, thin woman in a dark-grey uniform entered the room. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin had a rather unhealthy pallor, as if she didn’t get enough fresh air. ‘Good morning, sir,’ she said with a smarmy smile.

Rex took an instant dislike to her.

‘My name is Mrs Fosdyke, and I’m the housekeeper. I know you have been unwell and I came to see if everything is all right.’

‘I must compliment you,’ he said, watching her chest already swelling with pride, ‘on your charming staff. I couldn’t have been better served. Nothing has been too much trouble for Edith – is that her name?’

Mrs Fosdyke’s mouth tightened. ‘That is as it should be, sir.’

‘On the contrary,’ smiled Rex. ‘I’m sure she has a very heavy workload, but she has gone out of her way to help me. I believe I heard you say she has some time off tomorrow?’

‘She’s going to a wedding.’

Rex held Mrs Fosdyke’s stony stare with a pleasant smile. ‘I hope helping me doesn’t get in the way of that. I do so hate unfairness, don’t you?’

Two bright-pink spots appeared on her cheeks as Mrs Fosdyke prepared to leave. ‘Please pick up the telephone if you require anything else, sir,’ she said, closing the door softly.

CHAPTER 35

The hospital staff had decided that the girl should stay in overnight. Percy was given special permission to see her before she went up to the ward. Once again, when he walked into the cubicle, she recoiled. No woman had ever reacted to him like that before, and it made Percy feel very uncomfortable.

‘I’m sorry my colleagues were so rough with you,’ he said. She was bewitchingly beautiful, with her large, dark eyes and flowing black hair. The wound on her cheek had been cleaned and dabbed with iodine. It was only now that he noticed she already bore a facial scar, which had been reopened by the rough handling she’d received. It began at the corner of her right eye and went down her face, onto her neck, and disappeared under her blouse. When it was inflicted it must have been a life-threatening injury.

‘I’m grateful for your help,’ she said with an air of defiance, ‘but I hate all that you stand for in that uniform.’

Percy was shocked. When he’d joined the BUF, apart from a few Communist agitators and some mischief-makers, there was little opposition to the Fascist movement.
They attracted more trouble now, but he’d always put that down to the opposition becoming more organized. Recently he’d had his own misgivings, but he’d felt that he would be swimming against the tide by voicing them, so he’d knuckled down and tried to make a go of things. After the way Mosley had treated him tonight, though, he knew he wouldn’t be going back. But he was curious to know why the girl was so vehemently against them. ‘You are not from this country,’ he observed. ‘Do you mind telling me why you dislike them so much?’

‘In Germany, where I come from,’ she said, ‘Hitler’s jackbooted followers have already killed hundreds of innocent people. You think your Mosley is going to bring about a utopia, but he will only bring misery and death.’