Ruby's War (27 page)

Edged in under a swollen sky, the hens slopped through the muddy garden, and in the cottage the hours moved stiffly. To get the best of the dull unchanging light, Ruby worked on the wooden draining board; pressing close to the window, she used the bread knife to pare tissue-thin slivers of soap into a small glass fruit dish. When she'd scraped enough to fill a teaspoon, she added a spoon of precious white sugar. The mixture, a recipe for a poultice, was to be spread on to a piece of fine gauze and taped to Sadie's arm. She hoped it would have more effect than the bread poultice that Jenny had sworn by.

Sadie was curled up on the old settee, her unbandaged arm resting on a cushion, waiting for Ruby to make the poultice. The wound looked angry. The edges of the torn flesh were purple and raw; a substance as thin and lumpy as sour milk leaked from between the puckered folds. When Ruby came in and placed the gauze as gently as
she could on her throbbing forearm, Sadie bit her lip and stared straight ahead, fixing her eyes on Ruby. In profile, Ruby's face appeared distorted, her torn lip and bruised cheeks making the outline almost unrecognisable. It was over a week since Johnny had brought her home, and every night she'd heard the poor kid moving around in her room long after she should have been asleep.

After she'd rebandaged her arm, Ruby put the soiled wadding on the fire, pressing it down with the poker until it took hold. As the flames began to leap, Sadie watched their light turn Ruby's scabbed face into a repellent mask.

‘Come and sit with me for a bit,' she said. ‘I know, you can tell me the story of that book you're reading. Or I could tell you about the film we saw; it was ever so good.'

Ruby smiled and went to get her book from the mantelpiece, but then the gate latch clanked and she scuttled away.

‘Ruby, don't go,' Sadie called, getting up from her seat as the kitchen door closed. ‘It's only Michael. He'll have come to see Da. Stay and say hello.'

Ruby didn't get as far as the top of the stairs, before her granddad's bedroom door opened. The effort of dressing quickly had made him wheeze, and as he held on to the banister, she buttoned up his cardigan for him.

‘It's Michael, Granddad. He'll have brought that cable you've been wanting,' she whispered, tucking the ends of his white muffler inside his collarless shirt. ‘Flatten your hair down. It's standing up at the back.'

He nodded breathlessly and patted her arm, before edging his way down to the kitchen. Ruby followed him to the turn in the stairs and then sat with her head against the
distempered wall, tucking her skirt over her legs to keep off the draught blowing in under the back door.

Since the GIs first visited the cottage, Michael and Granddad had spent weeks repairing an old motorbike. Now Granddad's chest was too bad for him to go outside, but it hadn't stopped them. Instead of working in the yard or in the Anderson shelter, he got Holt to bring the bits into the kitchen. Then, if Jenny wasn't there to stop them, they'd spend hours rubbing and polishing, until Granddad's breathing gave out. Like Granddad, Michael loved engines, and Granddad said he had a feel for them. She knew that was probably why he liked Holt the best: he didn't get tired of discussing motorbike engines, or listening to Granddad's tales about his time in the trenches in France. She supposed Michael enjoyed the stories because they were new to him.

Ruby waited on the stairs, listening to Sadie moving around, hearing the cups chink and the sound of Michael's boots on the flags as he carried the tray back into the front room for her. Then she tiptoed downstairs into the gloomy kitchen and put her ear close to the door.

‘Thanks, Michael,' Sadie said. ‘Just put the pot down on the hearth. How are things with you?'

‘I'm fine,' he said. ‘Here, let me pour the water into the pot. I got a letter from Arleen a couple of days ago. Is that enough water?'

‘Yes, that's fine. I can manage to pour it out, but we'll let it brew first.'

Ruby perched on the edge of the kitchenette and prised the living-room door open until she could see a sliver of light. Holt and Arleen had married just before he came to England and she lived with his parents,
because they couldn't find a flat of their own.

‘How is she?' Sadie asked.

‘Things are getting worse. She's real fed up. There's not much room and her mother wants her to go back home, but I don't want her to, 'cos her brothers don't like me.'

‘How's the rationing over there? Is it as bad as here?'

‘No. I don't think so. There are petrol and meat shortages. Problem is, Arleen works in a department store, and it's running short on some things, and part of the money Arleen makes is commission on what she sells. She's thinking about munitions work to get more money. Her brothers and her mom don't like the idea.'

‘I wouldn't mind trying munitions,' Sadie said. ‘I suppose it depends what job you get. It's good money. They're strict about things like smoking. Have to be. They check you for fags and matches and any metal. You can't even have hairpins. Lou has this mate, and she said they have a long way to walk between buildings and a lot of it's underground.'

‘That's not fooled Jerry, though,' Granddad said. ‘They even know the colour they've painted the railings.'

The kitchen was getting darker, and Ruby could hear rain, sharp and hard, on the kitchen window. She shivered and hoped that Holt wouldn't stay for tea. Since the night at Doctor Grey's, she didn't want to see any of the GIs – not even Con. She didn't want to see anyone. She knew Sadie would be disappointed that it wasn't Bo who had called, but Bo, Wes and Con were away a lot of the time now, driving trucks up and down to the ports and the airfields. Holt could still visit, because someone at the camp had found out he was good at mending things and now he
stayed there most of the time to repair the engines. She rested her head against the frosted glass in the kitchenette and peered into the living room. Granddad and Holt were sitting at the table with their heads together.

‘Da, can you do the curtains?' Sadie asked. ‘This poultice Ruby's put on my arm is pulling.'

‘Well, that's good,' he said. ‘If you can feel it pulling, it means it's drawing the badness out of your arm. It's working.'

‘I know, but it hurts like mad.'

‘Well, off you go and get one of Jenny's headache tablets from upstairs. That should move it.'

Before Sadie could get out of the chair, Ruby was across the kitchen. She took the stairs two at a time and rushed headlong into the darkening bedroom. In the half-light, her foot struck something that clattered across the floor. Her stomach twisted and she scrambled for the blackout curtain and the light. On the floor, she could see Sadie's upended dish and wash jug. Since the attack, no matter how carefully she washed, her skin didn't feel clean. At first, she'd used an old bucket, carrying it up to her room, rubbing at the long gouges scored into her thighs, making them sting and bleed. Then one morning Sadie had caught her and brought in the pretty blue-and-white set from her washstand. Ruby picked up the jug and the dish, breathlessly fingering each surface, fearing a chip or crack. The soapy water inside was icy, and when she'd finished, she put them on the chair for safety and curled up on the bed.

She'd learnt to call what happened that night an accident. When Johnny brought her home, Jenny had been
waiting up for her. He'd helped her over to Granddad's chair, and Jenny stood in front of her, wiping her hands on her apron and looking from her to Johnny and back again, but she hadn't said anything. They'd left her. At first, she'd heard angry voices in the kitchen, and then he'd brought the blanket from her bed, wrapped her up and given her brandy. She'd shaken so much the glass rattled on her teeth. After she'd finished it, Jenny bathed her face and told her she must say that she'd fallen over in the dark, and since then, it hadn't been mentioned.

Ruby rolled over and looked at the cottage on her rug. Before Con kissed her, when she'd looked at the rug, she'd imagined the soldier who'd given her the letter was coming home to his girl, Maggie Joy. After the kiss, Ruby had imagined that, instead of Maggie Joy, she was in the bedroom under the thatched roof, sitting in front of the mirror on the dressing table, listening for the sound of the front gate opening. Sometimes she wasn't listening, she was reading Con's letter, and when he came to the door it was a surprise. Then he'd take hold of her hand and tell her that he'd come to spend his last two days with her, before going off to war. Other times, she imagined that he was coming home for good. They would walk in the garden, looking at the lupins, and he would tell her he wanted to marry her and take her to America. But now, instead of imagining that gentle kiss, there were yellow teeth biting into her lip and filling her mouth and nose with their sour taste.

The next day Sadie was feeling better. After dinner she volunteered to walk into the village for the shopping, and Granddad, who'd been awake in the night with his cough,
went for a nap. As Ruby was clearing the plates in the kitchen, she heard two quick rat-a-tat-tats on the front door. Guessing it must be Johnny Fin – who always did two quick raps on the knocker – she hurried to the front door wiping her hands on the tea towel. When she opened the door, Doctor Grey raised his trilby.

Doctor Grey's car – with Dick behind the wheel – was waiting by the gate, pulsating softly in its own small off-white cloud. She couldn't quite see if there was someone in the back seat of the car, because the hedge was in the way. She stood on tiptoe and thought that she could make out the top of a familiar cloche hat. Her stomach squeezed with excitement; she was glad that she'd spent the morning cleaning the brasses and had just dusted the crumbs from the table, but then Dick rolled the car forward and she could see that the back seat was empty: Doctor Grey was alone.

He followed her into the cottage, and putting his bag and a parcel on the table, drew her towards the window, turning her chin to the left and then the right. He asked about her injuries, where she had fallen and why. Ruby recited her well-practised tale. Doctor Grey raised an eyebrow, and when he asked if she'd been alone, she touched her lip and nodded. The parcel contained the tinned peaches, the present from Alice she'd dropped when Rollo had grabbed her, and some sheet music she'd left behind after one of the fundraising concerts.

‘It's probably better,' he said, ‘now you're getting older, to look for more permanent employment. In the factory, perhaps? It would be more patriotic,' he said, replacing his hat and moving towards the door. ‘I'm sure Alice will be happy to give you a reference.'

Jenny found the tin of peaches still on the table when she and Sadie arrived home.

‘Well the mill's not going to take you on looking like that,' she said. ‘You should have said you wanted paying until you could work.'

Sadie handed the two bottles of stout she was carrying to Ruby and went to the looking glass over the dresser.

‘Oh, Ma,' she said, rolling her eyes at Ruby through the mirror, ‘it's not their fault she fell on the way home. And anyway, if you'd remembered to tell her to wait for Johnny, she might not—'

‘I thought …' Ruby whispered, one of the bottles of stout slipping from her fingers and crashing to the floor. ‘I thought … I didn't know he was coming … I'd have waited and …'

‘Now look what you've done,' Jenny shouted. ‘I've Henry struggling to breathe, and you … and only my money. He told me she was only here for a few weeks, and now she's stopping for good. And who's going to pay for that? Not him. Not her. Not you. I'm the only one as is working here.'

‘What's goin' on?' Henry called between coughs.

‘Are you happy now you've got him up?' Jenny hissed, rescuing the second bottle from Ruby's trembling fingers. ‘Ruby, make yourself useful and go and see what he wants. Sadie, stop gawping at yourself and get a cloth and clean this mess up.'

‘I'll get paid,' Sadie said, red blotches appearing on her neck as she turned to face her mother. ‘When Jack Holloway was hurt—'

‘You think you're so bloody cocky. Blokes get
compensation if they're hurt 'cos they've families depending on them,' Jenny said, her hand shaking as she poured water from the kettle into a waiting pot. ‘You'll not. You'll be depending on me, and don't forget it. Ruby, bloody shift yourself. Go and see what Henry wants.'

The day after the argument, Sadie hugged her. ‘She's upset,' she said. ‘She feels guilty. That night, New Year's Eve, Johnny had called to see Da and he was asleep. He'd said he'd call for you, but you'd have to wait until he'd finished at the pub, and she forgot to say. If you'd been with Johnny on the way home, you might not have fallen and then … Well, you were going to leave the Greys anyway. She shouldn't have let Johnny think it was his fault. That was mean. I reckon it's because they're not married, her and Henry. If anything happens, we'll be out. She's scared.'

Ruby nearly told her, nearly confessed about the lie, but if she'd spoken about it, that might have made it more real. As the bruises faded and the cuts healed, there were times, when she was busy, that she would forget it had happened, except that it felt strange not going to the house any more, and she missed Mrs Grey and Alice. She tried to stay out of Jenny's way when she could and made a bit of money, once her face was presentable, cleaning books for Mrs Bland. The other thing that had changed was that she didn't like the dark, but Mrs Bland always waited at her door until she reached the cottage, and then she would call goodnight.

Although Mrs Bland's cottage was very cold and smelt strongly of her cat, Ruby gradually developed a liking for the old lady. Mrs Bland always treated her as though she were a visitor, even when she was paying her to do
some cleaning. She would ask her opinions about the books she'd given her to read and she really listened to her answers. Tonight, she'd been invited just to visit, and they sat together knitting blankets for homeless families and listening to the news on the radio.