Blue Moon (41 page)

‘Greedy boy,’ she giggled.

He let go and picked up something from the bedclothes. ‘What’s this?’

He held it up and Ruby froze. ‘Where did that come from?’

‘It must have rolled from under the pillow as you got out,’ said Jim.

He looked up at her and saw her look of horror. It was one of the lead bullets. Jim sat up and snatched the pillow away from the bolster.

‘Perhaps someone put it there as a joke?’ he suggested.

Ruby climbed back into bed, a little unconvinced, but as soon as her new husband started kissing her again, all else was forgotten.

CHAPTER 36

Bea had enjoyed her daughter’s wedding. Although she had been at the forefront of the plans and preparations, when she arrived at the kitchen door, her sister Vinny packed her off.

‘You go out there and enjoy yourself,’ she said. ‘This is your daughter’s wedding. You shouldn’t be working.’

They’d never been kissing sisters, but impulsively Bea pecked Vinny’s cheek.

‘Oh, get away with you!’ said Vinny, waving her away, but Bea couldn’t help noticing the faint smile etched on her lips.

The rest of the wedding breakfast had been everything she’d wanted, and more. It was quite a gathering, with at least forty of them. The sandwiches were lovely and moist, the cakes seemed never-ending, and the tea brewed in a large galvanized teapot was good and strong. The buzz of conversation convinced her that everyone was enjoying themselves. After the speeches they toasted the bride and groom, using some of Susan Marley’s elderberry wine, and then Ruby and Jim cut the cake. Bea had made it herself and, thankfully, there was plenty to go round.
She was glad she’d used the square tin rather than the round one. It made it so much easier to cut small slices.

Cousin Lily leaned over her aunt and put a piece of cake in front of her. ‘There you are, Aunt Bea. It looks fantastic.’

Her pretty locket swung out in front of her and Bea froze. ‘Where did you get that?’ she whispered angrily.

Lily’s face coloured and she straightened up. When she’d put on the locket that morning she hadn’t given a thought to the fact that Bea would be at the wedding. Turning on her heel, she headed for the kitchen again. Bea followed. Luckily the room was empty.

‘I asked you where you got that locket,’ said Bea. Her face was flushed and angry.

‘I’m sorry, Aunt Bea,’ said Lily, clearly embarrassed. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind. That man gave it to me.’

‘What man?’

‘The man who gave me that letter after the inquest.’

Vinny came up behind them. ‘What letter?’

‘He didn’t give it to
you
, did he?’ said Bea, ignoring her sister. ‘That locket is mine. You were supposed to pass it on to me, weren’t you?’

‘What’s going on?’ asked Vinny.

Bea held out her hand and Lily, her face a picture of misery, handed the locket to her. ‘I wasn’t going to keep it,’ she said. ‘I only borrowed it.’

Bea raised one eyebrow. ‘You shouldn’t have taken it at all,’ she said tartly. ‘I’m very disappointed in you, Lily.’

‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ Vinny insisted.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lily, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind.’

‘You never even asked me,’ said Bea, turning to leave.

Vinny turned to her daughter. ‘Lily, what’s this about?’

Outside the kitchen door Bea held the locket close to her chest for a few seconds, before composing herself and stepping back into the wedding reception. Behind the door Lily and her sister were having harsh words. Bea was more than a little annoyed with Lily. Holding her locket for the first time in eighteen years, Bea was experiencing an acute sense of loss, but she took a deep breath. No, she mustn’t cry. She wasn’t going to let anything spoil Ruby’s wedding.

By six o’clock they had cleared the trestle tables to the side of the hall. Then the men brought in a barrel of beer, which gave everyone a bit of fun when Silas Reed tapped it and sent a fountain of frothy amber liquid all over himself. As the evening wore on, and other members of the fishing community, friends and neighbours joined in the dancing, the wedding party became very merry and, later, a little mellow.

Bea stayed behind with the other women to help clear up, giving Ruby and Jim time to settle into their little room without embarrassment. May was exhausted, but excited to be up so late. At 10.30 p.m., the time they were to vacate the hall, everything had been put away, wiped down and swept up. Friends and neighbours helped Bea carry the leftovers back home and, to lessen the risk of encouraging mice, she spent a few minutes putting everything into a tin or the meat-safe, or under a cover.
She’d put the wireless on as soon as she’d got in to save Jim and Ruby’s blushes. With May washed and tucked up in bed, she then made her way to her own room.

She took the locket from her handbag and held it up to the light. She knew it was worth a fortune. It came from Boodle & Dunthorne, a bespoke jeweller in Liverpool, and Rex had given it to her shortly after she’d had their baby. That was the last time they were together. Bea turned the secret catch and saw the picture of her baby for the first time in eighteen years. Ruby’s innocent stare turned back the years, and Bea pictured herself looking at it while Rex was with her. On the opposite side was a little curl of Ruby’s dark hair. Bea touched it gently and, feeling the tears running down her cheeks, wiped them away with the heel of her hand. She’d made Rex take the locket with him.

‘Give it back to me when we are free,’ she’d told him.
Oh, why had that silly girl kept it for herself? …
If only Lily had given it to her straight away, she might have got to the Savoy before Rex left Worthing. He might have even made it to his daughter’s wedding and walked her down the aisle.

As she got ready for bed, Bea comforted herself that if – no,
when
– he came back to Worthing, the hotel’s management had promised to give Rex a letter that she had persuaded them to keep in the safe. Dog-tired, even though she felt frustrated and upset, Bea slept soundly.

Percy had woken up with a problem. Apart from the fact that he wanted to keep on seeing Rachel, he had
to find himself a job and somewhere to live. The sickening violence he’d seen at the Royal Albert Hall had left him profoundly shocked. He hadn’t said anything to them that night, but his friends in the Black House were actually boasting about what they had done.

‘I was with Smith and his mates,’ said one man. ‘As soon as that fellow in row C started shouting, the four of us jumped on him.’

‘I saw you,’ said another man. ‘I would have helped, but just as we were coming over, some young chap stood up and shouted, “Hitler means war,” so we had to shut him up good and proper.’

‘Did you tell him to leave?’ Percy asked.

The steward laughed. ‘Don’t you worry – we gave him the full treatment.’

‘I told you to ask people firmly to leave, and then escort them off the premises,’ said Percy tartly. ‘Those were Mosley’s clear instructions.’

‘Oh, we were very firm about it,’ laughed Smith.

Percy frowned. This was descending into anarchy. He wasn’t stupid. Yes, the Blackshirts had already gained a reputation for being a bit rough, but he had hoped that, with strong leadership, his team at least would set an example. It was obvious now that it was never going to happen. While it was true that he had left the building to see if Rachel was all right, the meeting had already descended into a shambles long before he went. Hecklers were being treated with brutality. From what he had seen, there was never a tap on the shoulder and a polite request to leave quietly. What made it worse was that,
once a man had his arms pinioned, he was in no position to avoid the punches of everyone and anyone who fancied throwing one. Percy had felt from the word go that the movement had its flaws, but all this violence was getting out of hand. Ruby had once told him that he was too headstrong. ‘You get too passionate, and then you forget everything else,’ she’d said. ‘Take things a little slower.’ Well, today he would take her advice. He was supposed to attend a meeting to discuss the strategies of the night before, but instead of going along there, he dressed in civvies and headed for the hospital.

Bea was up early the next morning, helping Ruby to make a packed lunch using some of the leftovers from the wedding breakfast. The happy couple were heading out to Eastbourne on one of Cecil’s coaches for the day. By eight o’clock the pair of them were running down the road hand-in-hand. They had to be at the Dome by eight-fifteen and would be out all day.

Bea watched them go with a little concern. They had been rather quiet at the breakfast table. Of course they were tired from yesterday, but it was more than that. She knew Ruby well enough to know when she had something on her mind. Was everything all right in the bedroom department? Had Jim disappointed her? He seemed nice enough, but you could never really tell. She had only known two men, in the biblical sense. One had been rough and unkind, while the other had been a caring and gentle lover. Chalk and cheese. Bea sighed and hoped that Jim was kind to Ruby.

She made herself a cup of tea and, with May still fast asleep, dozed a little in the chair. The locket was around her neck and it comforted her to feel it every now and then. She decided she would take May to the beach. She could miss Sunday school for once. It was funny, but even though the sea was right on the doorstep, they hardly ever found time to enjoy it. What was that old saying about coals to Newcastle? She and May could take the last of the sandwiches, and there were a couple of sausage rolls as well. She yawned. Every day she spent an awful lot of time in the Magic Memories booth, taking orders and selling Jim’s seaside snaps, but she never ventured out onto the pebbles or to sit in a deckchair. All that seemed very inviting today, and it wouldn’t be long before May came thundering down the stairs.

She heard someone shuffling their feet outside the front door. Oh no – she didn’t want visitors now. She was tired. Perhaps it was her sister, come back to see if there was anything else waiting to be done. There was a soft knock on the door and Bea called out cheerfully, ‘Come in, it’s open,’ at the same time thinking:
Go away …

She kept her eyes closed as the visitor came in. ‘There’s some tea in the pot,’ she said, sure it was Vinny. ‘Help yourself.’

When the person who had entered the room didn’t speak, Bea opened her eyes. She took in her breath and gripped the arms of the chair in disbelief. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of soft laughter.

‘Hello, Bea,’ Rex smiled. ‘You look as beautiful as ever, even with your eyes shut and your mouth wide open.’

She rose shakily to her feet as the blood pulsated in her head and her chest tightened. She could hardly breathe. He opened his arms and she came to him. Touching his chest, she said, ‘Is it really you?’

‘Yes,’ he said huskily. ‘It’s me, my darling. I’ve come to collect you, and this time I won’t take no for an answer.’

She moved slowly into his arms, savouring the moment as he enfolded her. She could feel his breath on the top of her head, and his arms felt warm and protecting. As he pressed her to him, she could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest. They stood in silence together for several seconds. Bea closed her eyes again and was intoxicated by the smell of him. He released her and they stared into each other’s eyes. Then he bent his head and gave her the lightest, gentlest kiss, which sent all her senses to the moon and back. They looked at each other again and then his next kiss was far more eager. The third was hungry and full of the promise of what was to come. Bea melted in his arms until a child’s voice behind her said, ‘Mummy, what are you doing?’

CHAPTER 37

Victor’s widow always woke with a feeling of contentment, which quickly vanished. She rolled over the bed to look at her husband’s picture. She reached out and pulled it to the edge of her bedside table. He looked so handsome in his uniform, and she was becoming more and more aware of how young he looked. Her hands were becoming wrinkled with age and a couple of the veins stood out. She was growing older, while he had remained twenty-nine for the past twenty years.

They had been together for ten years and she had loved every minute. They’d married in St Mary’s in Ferring and lived in the village, where he worked as a sexton for the parish. He’d been born and brought up in Worthing and didn’t want to move too far from home. She was his senior by five years, but she had the passion of a much younger woman. To be frank about it, she adored sex. She could never get enough of it. Victor used to laugh when she’d beg him not to stop. ‘Keep this up, gal,’ he’d joke, ‘and you’ll have me in an early grave.’

She never refused him, and they had had their moments in some wonderfully romantic places. The most daring had been in some farmer’s barn in Wisborough Green. It was a country walk with a difference and they had nearly got caught. The farm dog had barked below the loft where they lay naked on the straw, and would have given the game away had not its master, waiting outside with a pony and trap, called sharply for it to come. They had giggled like naughty schoolchildren scrumping in an orchard. How she’d loved the sense of risk and abandon.

While she had enjoyed the lovemaking, she wasn’t so happy about the consequences. At first, Victor withdrew before ejaculation. It was much better when he stayed inside her, but then her son came along. She still wanted her husband, but as she got bigger, he was afraid it would hurt the baby. The result was that she resented her child even before he was born. He was a weak child anyway, stupid and whiney. She did what she was expected to do to nurture him, but her mind was always on her lover.

Her life would have been perfect if it weren’t for the war. Damn the Kaiser and his cohorts. Damn Kitchener and his war poster. She’d been utterly devastated when Victor had come home to say he’d joined up alongside the lads from Sunny Worthing and, if that wasn’t bad enough, after his basic training was sent to France. She’d carried on, writing a letter to him every day, and longing for the time when they could be together again. Then came the official letter: