Ruby McBride (7 page)

Nellie Bradshaw nodded. ‘I’d heard as much. Funnyosities some of them nuns. It ain’t normal not to have a chap. But then I’m a Baptist meself, so how would I know owt about nuns?’ Having made a fresh pot of tea, she refilled Ruby’s mug. ‘Sup up. It’ll give your strength. So, what’s yer plan then? How come they let you out?’

Ruby looked away, avoiding her old friend’s probing gaze, but Nellie guessed. Very slowly she set down the tea pot. ‘Nay, don’t say you’ve run away? Eeh, heck, that were a daft thing to do. Where are you going to live, eh? You can’t stay here, I’m afraid. There’s no room.’

‘I know, Auntie. We’ll find somewhere. Don’t worry. They’d soon find us here anyroad. We’ll be off first thing in the morning.’

‘Nay, lass, go back. At least you get regular meals there.’

‘No, I’m not taking them back there. Our Billy was being bullied. Sister George thinks she’s put a stop to it, but I know different. I’ve noticed marks on his legs and he rarely says a word to anyone but me. There’s something wrong with him. And our Pearl is not what she was. She’s either too clingy, or that daft and giddy she hurts folk without a second thought. It’s doing them no good at all living in that place. I’ll find work, look after them meself. I can do it, so don’t say I can’t.’
 

The old woman didn’t ask Ruby how she was herself, she could see it all too clearly in the haunted look in the young girl’s eyes, the face that had grown mature before its time, for all she was still no more than a girl, and lovely with it. She let out a deep sigh. ‘I’ll not quarrel with yer decision, lass, made from the best of motives, I’m sure. But things never turn out quite as you expect. Remember that, love. And think on, if I’ve a crust of bread on me table, you and yours are welcome to half of it.’

Ruby’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Auntie, I’ve missed you.’

‘And I’ve missed you too, love. Eeh, 1 have that.’

It was around suppertime the following evening when they heard the knocking on the door. And, as a flustered Nellie delayed answering the wrath of God in the shape of Sister Joseph for as long as she possibly could, Billy, Pearl and Ruby slipped out of the back door. They ran pell-mell down the cobbled back street, dived into the first alley and fell headlong over a humped sleeping figure sprawled across it. Several dustbins toppled, spilling their contents everywhere, and a lid rolled noisily away, taking a frighteningly long time to stop spinning and finally fall silent.

‘What the ‘ell ... ?’ a voice rang out in fury above the din.

It seemed there was not one but several bodies bedding down for the night in the alley. Within seconds mayhem had broken out. Having been so rudely disturbed, the gang of youths came to with a jerk, fists raised, eager to fight. Billy was knocked to the ground, Pearl grabbed by one bruiser who seemed set on nothing short of murder. Ruby flew at the boy she assumed to be the ring leader with a cry of outrage before suffering a blow to her head that sent her flying. Finding herself flat on her back, she was vaguely aware of the weight of someone pinning her down, of fists pummelling her chest and stomach. And then, miraculously, the beating stopped and the weight lifted as her attacker was dragged away.

‘Leave off! Let ‘em be. They’re nobbut kids and soft girls.’

Ruby got slowly to her feet, her head spinning almost as much as the dustbin lid as she pulled cabbage leaves and other stinking refuse from her hair.

Before her stood a boy a year or two older than herself, legs astride, hands in pockets. He was dressed in coarse, ragged trousers and waistcoat over a collarless shirt that might once have been white. On his head was a slouch cap, tipped well back above a thatch of black curls. But it was his face which captured her attention. It shouted defiance in every insolent line: the flared nostrils, the quirk of the dark eyebrows, the cynical twist of the mouth. It was pugnacious, arrogant, reeking of self-importance, expressing a well-practised carelessness, as if the boy wished to make it clear that he was accustomed to witnessing violence in all its forms and nothing could ever shock him. It declared that he was entirely in control, sure of his place as leader of the gang rolling in the dirt about his feet, and of the rat-infested back alleys of Salford which comprised his small kingdom.

Nevertheless, it was the most fascinating, most intriguing, most exciting face Ruby had ever encountered. There was about it an attractiveness that had nothing to do with the accepted rules of good looks. The eyes were brilliant, the bluest she had ever seen and Ruby realised, with a slight shock, that right now they were regarding her with some amusement.

Brushing down the green uniform dress and pinafore that proclaimed all too clearly what she was and where she came from, Ruby saw his eyes flick assessingly over her, recognising this fact instantly and bringing a flush of humiliating colour to her cheeks. But there was no time for explanations since less than a second later there came a cry from an all too familiar voice behind them.

‘It’s Sister Joseph with a copper!’ Billy’s small face was a picture of horror.

The air suddenly seemed to be filled with police whistles, and the sound of running feet.

The boy grabbed her hand. ‘Quick, this way.’

In that moment her world tilted and changed. Ruby knew, instinctively, that nothing would ever be the same again.

They squeezed through a hole in a nearby fence which led to the railway embankment and ran along it as fast as their legs could carry them. The police whistles faded into the distance but not for a moment dare she risk stopping to check how safe they
were. There was a pain in Ruby’s side but nor did she pause to ease it. The boy plunged into a honeycomb of back alleys and cobbled streets and Ruby went with him, dragging a white-faced Billy with her. Even Pearl was silent and uncomplaining as she did her best to keep pace.

Then suddenly the boy opened a door in a tenement block and, thrusting them through it, banged it shut behind them. It was pitch black inside, stank of urine, damp and rotting food. Ruby shuddered as she followed him up the rickety stairs. Once, she’d been used to places like this. Now, after three years with the nuns in Ignatius House, she was more used to stark cleanliness, a scrubbed, ascetic purity. In that instant, doubt assailed her for the first time. Perhaps leaving the home had not been such a wise move after all. Mam was dead. Where could they go? What could they do now? Despite the relief she felt at being free of Sister Joseph, a part of her grieved for what might have been and worried about her brother and sister, about whether she’d done the right thing by them. Hadn’t she promised Mam to take care of them, and here she was leading them into possible danger.

The boy pushed them into a small room that seemed to be filled with children. A woman sat breastfeeding one, which was alternately crying and suckling in a fretful, lethargic sort of way, whilst the rest lay tumbled about the floor and the one bed that filled a good half of the floor space.

‘You get home some time then?’ The woman’s hair hung down in lank strands about a face that had once been pretty, and the baby she held so lovingly in her arms seemed exhausted by the effort of trying to gain nourishment from the flaccid breasts. Ruby guessed the woman was equally worn out, and years younger than she appeared.

‘Sorry I’m late, Ma. I got held up.’

‘What ‘ave you got fer us? Summat good, I hope. These childer are fair starved.’

Having been reminded of their hunger, the children all seemed to fling themselves upon the boy at once, clinging to him, searching his pockets, hanging around his neck and all asking the same question.

‘What’ve you got fer us, Kit? Is it summat good?’

He tolerated their attentions with mild good humour. From out of various pockets he drew half a loaf, four stale buns and a packet of broken biscuits, all of which he deposited in his mother’s lap. To Ruby it seemed a pitiful amount of food to satisfy all these hungry mouths yet the woman smiled up at him, all animosity gone from her weary face. ‘I thought you’d copped it this time, love.’

‘Never!’

Her faded eyes looked over the head of the suckling infant and past her eldest son across to where Ruby stood by the door, her own arms tight about Billy and Pearl, holding them protectively close. ‘Who’s yer friend?’

The boy grinned, blue eyes lighting with that already familiar twinkle. ‘We haven’t yet found time for introductions, Ma.’
 

When Ruby had given their names and politely declined the offer of food which was shared out with scrupulous care, the boy introduced himself as Kit Jarvis. He told her he was fifteen and the main breadwinner in the family. He said this with a wry sideways smile, although Ruby saw nothing amusing in the sight of these starving children licking the few remaining crumbs from their fingers and squabbling over the last bit of crust. In her head she had a sudden vision of sago pudding splattered all over a dining table and felt a keen blast of guilt.

Kit didn’t explain what had happened to his father and Ruby knew better than to ask. It was none of her business. Nor did she relate their own history. He next drew from his pockets several small packets of tea, which brought forth shouts of excitement from his siblings.

‘How did you get them, our Kit?’ asked one youngster.

He simply grinned. ‘They’re free samples from Willy Pidgeon’s corner shop.’

‘He gave them to you?’ Ruby was astonished. Usually such benefits were saved for a shopkeeper’s best customers.

‘After I’d bought the biscuits, which just happened to have suffered a catastrophic accident earlier in the day, after some idiot knocked over a tin outside his shop. Anyroad, I did some free deliveries for him so he let me have a bag cheap.’ Again the grin, and Ruby had to laugh. She didn’t ask how such a catastrophe had occurred in the first place to the biscuits, nor why Willy Pidgeon should be so generous, free deliveries or no. It was enough that the treats were all shared out, together with several mugs of weak tea laced with tinned sweetened milk. Best of all she was able to see the colour return to Billy’s cheeks.

Much later, from another pocket deep inside Kit’s waistcoat, emerged two long sticks of liquorice root which, laughing, his mother proceeded to chop up and hand out to her children. They’d happily chew on those for hours which would help to stave off any remaining pangs of hunger, even if it might result in some loosened bowels.

The McBrides slept that night wrapped in yet another collection of old coats, except that these smelled fusty and damp. Not that it mattered. With Ruby’s arms wrapped cosily about Billy, and Pearl’s head resting on her sister’s shoulder, they felt warm and safe, content to be together. It was almost as if they were back home, and they half expected Mam to appear and tell them one of her old yarns. They slept the clock round and although they awoke to the sad knowledge that they’d never see Mam’s cheery smiling face again, at least Sister Joseph wasn’t waiting to pounce with her cold showers and list of chores and penances.

But what would this new day bring? And this new life?

Chapter Six

The changes became all too clear on that very first morning when Ruby discovered that little time would be spent hanging around indoors, and that life wasn’t going to be easy. Kit, not hanging around waiting for a breakfast which would never appear, had already left the house hours earlier to go to one of his many part-time jobs down at Salford docks.

‘He’ll be working on how to get food fer us dinner, and then there’s the problem of supper. Endless it is. Vicious bloomin’ circle.’ his mother explained. ‘But he does his best so we don’t complain, do we, me lovely?’ She kissed the baby’s head. making him chortle with pleasure, and beamed around at her other children. There were four, including the baby, though there seemed more. perhaps because none of them could be much over six.

‘He fetched us a banana once,’ one wide-eyed toddler announced.

His mother laughed. ‘Not that you knew what to do with it, Henry, so hush up, Mr Clever Clogs.’ But she tickled him under the chin, to show she was only teasing, and Ruby felt the prick of tears at the back of her eyes as she experienced a spurt of envy at the family’s closeness.

Nobody troubled to wash since there was no tap in the room and most of the children were already dressed, having slept in every item of clothing they possessed to keep warm, a habit the McBrides fell back into with practised ease. But everyone seemed perfectly content. No one appeared surprised or in the least concerned that those who were old enough were expected to get themselves off to school as best they could. Their mother trailed around after them, picking up socks, tying boot laces and issuing instructions, the baby propped on one hip throughout the whole performance. Ruby thought Sister Joseph would probably have died of apoplexy at the sight of all these unclean bodies.

‘What about them two youngsters?’ The woman jerked her chin in the direction of Billy and Pearl. ‘Let them sleep in today, eh?’