Ruby's War (39 page)

‘We can go back together.'

‘We can't. I can't have a white girlfriend. There'd be no sort of life for us there: friends, family, jobs. There'd be nothing for us. There'd be no place for you. A white woman with a black man is hated more than the black man himself. If you love someone, you'd want to protect her from that.'

‘Then stay here. The folk here don't think like that.'

‘They'll learn to think of me as inferior. Plenty of folks are willing to teach them, and it would never be my country.'

‘When Bo came back from Liverpool, he said … The couple you met. He wants to stay with Sadie, I know. Bo wouldn't …'

‘Bo's dead.'

‘What?'

‘He's dead, Ruby. The MPs killed him. I'm sorry, I should have told you. That morning, after we fought back, when Henry asked about Bo, I couldn't tell him. I should have, I know. It's felt real strange. When I've been sitting in the hut on my own, and when I'm walking out here with you, the camp and what happened there isn't real. But now I've got to go back.'

Con lifted up her chin and stroked her face, tracing the long pale curve of her lips.

‘I thought you'd want to stay,' she said. ‘That we'd be like Sadie and Bo.'

‘I need to go back.'

‘They'll send you to prison. Or kill you.'

‘No. Not if the priest comes with me and explains, and I admit I lied about my age. Johnny reckons—'

‘He might be wrong.'

Con stroked her cheek, but as he bent his head to feel the warmth of her hair on his skin, he heard the sharp metallic click of a rifle.

‘Run,' he whispered, pushing her away from him. ‘Run, and don't look back. Run!'

Hal had only seen one lynching; it was 1926 in Mississippi, and then he hadn't seen the whole of it. He was fourteen and working on his Uncle George's farm. By the time he'd got there, the guy had been beaten up pretty bad. He'd lost an eye and an ear. They'd got a rope, and as the body went up in the air and danced, the crowd cheered. He was young, strong, not more than seventeen or eighteen, but he'd died quick and spoilt half the fun. It disappointed a lot of the
folk who'd come for the show; they'd started cursing and throwing empty liquor bottles at the body. When they'd got bored of that, the corpse was brought down and the rope cut in small pieces and sold for five dollars each. His Uncle George said it was a tradition, and as it was his first lynching, he'd bought him a piece for luck. Then the boys and some of the men kicked the body around for a bit, until it wasn't clear that it had ever been a man. In the end, all that was left were lumps of black flesh in the dirt for the crows and the dogs to nibble on.

As soon as he'd heard that they were sending black troops to England, he knew it was asking for trouble. He'd been right. He'd tried to warn the locals. At first, when Sadie avoided him, he'd thought it was because she was sore at him for not writing like he'd promised, but then he saw her in town with the dead black guy. It made him real sore, but he and his buddies had some good times uptown, hunting out black GIs and making sure they knew their place. When he'd found out one of the dead guy's buddies was still on the loose, Hal was sure he knew where to look and persuaded one of the MP patrols to let him come with them. He'd told them he knew where the guy was likely to be, and he'd been right.

The cottage was empty when they'd arrived, but an old woman in one of the cottages on the lane knew where they should look.

‘You'll not find him in there,' she'd called over her hedge, ‘if it's that black soldier you're looking for. He's off with the younger one, Ruby; no more than sixteen, she is. No better than they should be, either of them. The older one set her hat at my lad, but I saw her off. Then these
black soldiers arrived. They'd not been here five minutes when I caught the younger one, young Ruby, with two of them. Henry, him who lives in the white cottage, Mr Barton, she's his son's child. Will, Will Barton he is. He's another one as is no good. Went off playing the piano in bars and picked up with a singer. That's Pearl, her mother, so you can't be surprised, really. Well, I went round this day, and she was coming down the stairs as bold as brass with two of 'em. They said something about coming to collect a cake, but it was clear what was goin' on. This one you're looking for, they say it was him as was with her, Ruby, in the doctor's garden, and when this young man tried to chase them off, he knocked him out cold, and then they took his wallet. I'm glad they've all been locked up in that camp. You should keep 'em there for good. Decent women can't go out. Try up the river. He's started calling for her, and they go off up there. She took my dog out the other day and brought her back wet through, so I reckon you might find them along the bank somewhere.'

He'd thanked the old woman, smiled politely and patted the dog. Then, as the rest of the guys were climbing over the stone wall and heading down towards the water, he took the rope from the jeep, just in case.

Ruby tried to make her legs go faster. When she reached the wall and scrambled over, the lane was empty. At first she thought about running across the fields to Bardley's farm for help, but then decided to head for the cottage. At least Sadie was there, and if Granddad was still with Maud, she could go and get him and send Sadie to the farm.

Just after the little stone bridge, the road kinked slightly
and she could see the MPs' jeep drawn up outside the cottages. She couldn't understand what had happened: if they'd come to the cottage, why hadn't Granddad and Sadie tried to stop them or warned Con? The front door was locked, and no face came to the window when she called Sadie's name. The back door was bolted, but she banged on it anyway. Then her legs crumpled, folding under her, and she sat on the flags by the door. In the empty yard, the air around her rang with the screeching of the wagons' wheels from the shunting yards, followed by the clattering of points. These familiar sounds masked the chink of the front gate opening and the thud of boots on the brick path.

At first, Sergeant Mayfield thought the barefoot girl in the yard was hurt, but when Ruby got him to understand that it was Con who was in danger, he took her with him to the front of the cottage where Captain O'Donal was waiting in a jeep. Ruby was still explaining about the GIs and begging them to follow her back to the river, when Granddad arrived with Johnny and Father O'Flynn. Granddad knew a quick way to get from the farm track down to the hut, and they sped off leaving her behind.

It was later, when Granddad came up to her room and showed her the photo of Bo wearing the zoot suit he'd been so proud of, that Ruby realised Captain O'Donal and Sergeant Mayfield hadn't been looking for Con; the reason for their visit had been to see Sadie. Ruby curled up on her bed, and Granddad sat in the old cane chair and promised he'd stayed until he was sure Con was safe. When they heard the back door open, and Sadie called out that she'd been to Lou's to borrow a pattern for a kiddie's dress, Granddad told her to stay in her room. Ruby listened to his footsteps moving slowly down the stairs, and when Sadie began to scream, she covered her ears.

The next day Sadie didn't come out of her room. Ruby had asked Jenny if she could go and sit with her, but she'd shaken her head and picked up her sewing. Granddad hadn't looked up, but sat in his chair, hands clasped, staring
into the pale flames of the smoky fire, refusing to tell her anything, except that Con was safe and that he'd been put in Captain O'Donal's jeep and taken to the hospital.

As if in sympathy, the warm sunny weather was replaced by unrelenting rain. In the evening, Ruby sat in her room staring out over the dripping garden. She wanted to see Con, but Granddad said that he was under arrest and he wouldn't be allowed to see anyone. Then the next morning, after Granddad and Jenny had left for work, she found Sadie sitting in the living room. She went to hug her but no warm cheek met hers.

‘You must have known for days,' she whispered, her voice scraped and raw.

Ruby shook her head and crept into the kitchen, bringing tea and bread with honey.

‘Con must have known. Why didn't he tell us?'

‘I don't know. He said he didn't know how to.'

Sadie turned her face away, and when Sergeant Mayfield arrived later that day, shaking the water from his raincoat and telling them that Con had left the hospital, Sadie's sallow face had twisted with envy.

‘Can I see him now?' Ruby asked.

‘He's under guard.'

‘When he comes back to the camp?'

Sergeant Mayfield stared into the cup of tea she'd made for him and shook his head. ‘He won't come back to camp. Con's to be transferred to a US military jail, and then be shipped back to the US and out of the army.'

After the sergeant left she'd cried, but Sadie didn't sympathise.

‘At least he's alive,' she said, ‘and in a few months he
could write, and when the war's over – who knows.'

The next time Sergeant Mayfield called, it was to return the books that Mrs Bland had lent to Con, and Ruby took him to meet the old lady.

‘My goodness, ma'am,' he said, gazing around the bookshelves in the tiny room, ‘this is a truly wonderful collection.'

‘You must avail yourself as often as you like, Sergeant Mayfield,' Mrs Bland said. ‘I'm delighted to meet a fellow bibliophile, and I know how much you have contributed to Con's education.'

Sergeant Mayfield looked up from the book he was examining. ‘Do you think we were right, ma'am? All that Con really wanted when he came out here was adventure. He wanted to be a soldier and fight in Europe.'

‘But you wouldn't have left the young man in ignorance of his own situation and that of his people and of how to make sense of his experience here? Sergeant, your example gave him a model, a template; you showed him how important it was to teach others what you know. Books must be read, and the reader then must decide for themselves what to do with that knowledge.'

‘Yes, ma'am, I guess so.'

Ruby turned the pages of the books that Con had been reading. She'd imagined that they would be novels, but instead she found that most of the tissue-thin pages were covered with tight lines of text she found difficult to read. She examined the spines.

‘What's a Jacobin?' she asked.

‘I think you, too, Ruby, would benefit from a more challenging diet,' Mrs Bland said, ‘and when I come back,
I'll draw up a list. Some history, possibly, to back up the classics you've enjoyed.'

The next evening after work, she went with her granddad to Auntie Maud's to say prayers for Uncle Joe. When they arrived, Johnny was already there with Bert Lyons, who'd brought a couple of bottles of whisky from the pub, along with glasses, trays and extra teacups. Ruby helped him set out the trays in the scullery and boiled the kettle ready for the tea. From the window, she could see that the door of one of the toilets in the yard had been replaced by a large Union Jack.

‘We took the petty door off to lay poor Joe out,' Bert said, following her gaze. ‘Table wasn't big enough. It's just the job, propped on trestles from the pub and covered with a sheet. Folk quite often borrow the flag for a laying out, but usually to cover the coffin, if the bloke's been in the army. We use it at the pub to cover the tables for prize-giving for the bowling league and such. We've taken Maud's table next door, until after the funeral. She was concerned folk would be put out, when they found we'd taken the door off the petty. I told her there was still two they could use, but she wasn't happy. Then Johnny came up with the idea of using the flag, since it was big enough to cover the door hole, and like he says, if you're in there, you'll get plenty of warning. Tha'll not be startled, as folk will have to salute, an' that'll give um time to say, if it's occupied.'

The coffin took up most of the space in the living room. Although it was still daylight outside, the curtains had been drawn and the room was lit by candles. Auntie Maud sat by Joe's head. When the neighbours began to arrive, they each went up to speak to her and to pat Joe's folded hands.
Then they took a seat along the wall, accepting a cup of tea from Ruby's tray, or a glass of whisky from Bert's. By the time Father O' Flynn arrived to say prayers, the house was full. Johnny opened the door, in order that the people in the street outside could join in the responses to the rosary.

Ruby had expected to see Jenny and Sadie with the rest of the mourners, but they didn't arrive. Next day, the day of the funeral, Jenny left for work as usual, leaving Sadie in bed and Granddad's breakfast on the table. The church was crowded, the organ played softly and she and Granddad walked behind the coffin with Maud. Outside in the churchyard, Father O'Flynn swung the incense, and when Joe was lowered into the earth, Maud closed her eyes. Bert had prepared a ham tea in the pub. Her granddad and Maud sat together, and in the late afternoon when everyone began leaving, they stood side by side and shook hands with the mourners as they left.

‘You and Auntie Maud head off back home, Ruby love,' Granddad said. ‘I'll just need to settle up with Bert. Johnny's coming with us; I need a hand to get that door back on its hinges and to carry the table in from next door.'

Outside the sky was a clear, deep blue. Auntie Maud and Johnny walked in front of her arm in arm; their funeral clothes – her dress the colour of dry shingle and his black suit – looked incongruous in the dazzling light. The curtains were still drawn in Maud's little house, and in the half-light the dress became ghostly. As she'd walked through the door, Maud had given a little cry; the table and chairs were back in their places, the two wooden trestles stood against the wall with the flag folded neatly on top of
them, and when they pulled back the curtains, the sunshine crept over the newly starched tablecloth and the freshly mopped floor. Maud sat down heavily in her usual place by the table and gazed around the room. Johnny hovered by the door, peering out at the street looking for Granddad, and Ruby sat down opposite her auntie. She would have liked to take her hand, but instead she asked if she should make a pot of tea. Then, as if waking from a dream, Maud got up and went upstairs.

‘She'll have gone to change out of her good things,' Johnny said, and went to put the kettle on.

By the time Granddad arrived, the tea was ready. Maud, dressed in her everyday skirt and blouse, came down and poured out some tea for each of them in some pretty cups that Ruby hadn't seen before; then Granddad added a tot of whisky and they drank a toast to Joe.

A few days after Joe's funeral, Sergeant Mayfield arrived at the cottage one evening with a book under his arm.

‘I wanted to return this to Mrs Bland,' he said, ‘but there isn't anyone at home.'

‘She's away at her sister's,' Ruby said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘I'll give it to her if you like. We don't know when she's coming back. She could be away some time; she took the cat with her.'

‘I was glad of the loan. I'm pretty short of reading materials, except for back numbers of some newspapers.'

The house was quiet. Jenny and Sadie were at work, and she and Granddad were sitting in the garden. The sergeant joined them on the bench. He sat for a while smoking with Granddad and talked about his home in the South,
describing the cotton fields and the smell of honeysuckle on summer mornings.

‘I have a message for you all from Con,' he said.

‘Have you seen him?'

‘No. I got the message off a friend. I'm to tell you that he knows how much he owes Henry and Johnny and your priest and that he'll never forget you all. I wanted to come and tell you. I'll be getting my orders any day now.'

‘You're going as well?' Henry asked.

Sergeant Mayfield smiled and drew the cigarette smoke deep into his lungs. ‘There's been big changes at the camp, though I'm not sure any of the MPs will be punished. Some of them were moved out, but I'm pretty certain that will be the end of it. The rest of our guys, the ones involved, got moved out straight away. Some were sent to other camps and some will be given jail. Holt was arrested, and Wes was moved out a few days ago. I don't know where. Don't know where I'll be sent either, but if I were to guess, I'd say the south, someplace near the coast or an airbase. The word is most of the guys – even those who'll be given jail – won't serve the whole of their sentences. They'll be released, once everything dies down, perhaps in a year or so, we don't really know.'

‘What about Con?'

‘I guess he'll be on a ship home by now. They didn't rightly know what to do with him. Once in the US, he'll be discharged and sent to a correctional facility in New York. I understand that's because he lied about his age when he enlisted. I know he found … I know all the men found the folks round here opened their eyes. We didn't expect such a welcome.'

Granddad sent Ruby inside to get the bottle of Irish whiskey left over from Frank and Lou's wedding. He and the sergeant drank a toast to Bo and to the end of the war. Then they walked with him to the gate, and as she watched his jeep disappear into the twilight, Ruby knew she had lost another link to Con.

‘Do you think Con will write?' she asked Granddad, as she helped him check the hens.

‘I don't know, love, it might not be allowed. Best not to count on it too much.'

When Ruby came home from work the next day, a young brindled spaniel trotted along the front-garden path to meet her.

‘Somebody tied the poor little bugger up to the rails,' Granddad said, appearing around the side of the cottage. ‘Take him in through the front, Ruby, our Monty isn't too suited. I thought we could do with a dog. From next Monday, I'll have linesman duties. I'll be on me own, walking up and down the line, and he'll be company. Won't you, lad?' Granddad said, following them into the house and easing himself into his armchair. The dog, as if understanding what was needed, immediately sat down at his feet and allowed his ears to be tickled. ‘I've called him Brag. Same as my dad's old dog. He'll need a bowl and a dish for his water. See if you can find him a biscuit or two, will you, or a nice bone. What do you say to that, Brag me lad?'

Ruby went into the kitchen and opened the biscuit tin. Before Jenny found the money in her dress pocket and Granddad heard about Rollo and the attack, he wouldn't have dared to bring a dog home, no matter how badly
it had been treated. At the sight of a strange dog in the cottage, Jenny would have been furious and ordered him to get rid of it, but now Grandma Jenny didn't scold him as she used to. Other things had changed as well: now he didn't hide the fact that he gave Maud vegetables from the garden, and now he went to the pub with Johnny whenever he liked. At first, she'd felt glad that Granddad was angry with Jenny for the way she'd deceived him. Jenny had been mean to her and to Johnny and she deserved it. For a while, she'd enjoyed the relief from Jenny's sharp tongue, but Granddad needed someone to keep him in check, and now the cottage felt strange without Jenny scolding everyone.

‘Is that all you could find?' Granddad said, when she returned with two broken biscuits. ‘We'll have to do better than that, laddie, won't we? I'll need you to help me, Ruby. He'll need taking out, looking after, walking and such, on the days he doesn't come with me. This breed needs plenty of exercise.'

On his first night, Brag kept them awake with his whining. When Ruby came down next morning he'd piddled in the kitchen, but as Granddad pointed out in Brag's defence, the puddle was by the back door. Sadie showed little interest in the new member of the family, except to bawl at him to be quiet, and Jenny ignored him completely, behaving as though there wasn't an animal under the table at breakfast, begging for crusts and wagging its tail.

On the second night when he began to cry, Ruby carried him upstairs to her room, where he settled contentedly at the foot of her bed. After tea she took him for a walk by the river; she'd been down there only once since Con's arrest,
and that had been to find her shoes. Now, glad to escape the silent house, Ruby followed the paths she'd wandered with Con, remembering as she walked by each tree the things they'd talked about and how pretty everything had looked when they'd been there together. As Brag sniffed and investigated his new territory, she stretched out on the soft grass, trying to imagine the feel of Con's tunic under her head and the buttery, spicy smell of his skin in the hot sun. When the dog returned, he gave her face an impatient, sloppy lick that made her giggle. She got up, and followed his waggy tail through the wood. Brag was foraging under a tree not far from the hut when he found it; the rope was heavy with rain. Ruby picked it up. It coiled around her arm and soaked her fingers as – tracing the twists and spirals they would have put around his neck – she said a silent prayer that Con was safe.