‘I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy. I didn’t think until it was too late. When you turned around, I could see I’d been wrong to photograph you here,’ he said, his voice soft and genuine. Almost a whisper.
‘Why? Why did you feel the need to take pictures of my grief?’
John moved to his camera, perched on a concrete slab, and lifted it to his face and, before Ruby could prevent him from taking the picture, he’d clicked the button.
‘It’s my job,’ he said, and discarded his cigarette, grinding it underfoot.
Ruby watched and shuddered as his large black boot snuffed out the red glow. All thoughts of ants and the enemy were swiftly suppressed.
‘Job? But you’re in service uniform, and is it right to do that –’ she pointed to the camera ‘– when the person is in front of you? Shouldn’t you ask first?’ Ruby could hear the indignation in her voice.
John raised an eyebrow and gave what Ruby took to be an apologetic smile. ‘We record the war. I’m recording it for the army – the Canadian Army, to be precise. I’m part of the Canadian Military Headquarters, based in London. They decided, as I’d missed my train, I could stay around here and record the Blitz damage a while longer.’
‘Why here? I know why for Coventry. I mean England.’
John took another photograph, this time of smoke spiralling across the rooftops of the houses ahead. Rooftops without roof tiles, chimneys unable to accommodate fires. He turned back to speak and Ruby saw his job was more than just taking photographs; it was a passion for remembering what might have been before the destruction.
‘It needs to be on record. Another war? We never expected it, and we have lessons to learn. Folks back home want to know what’s happening over here. Many are originally from Britain, or their ancestors were; some of mine came from England, which is why I wanted to see it for myself.’
Ruby noticed his voice remained soft, almost apologetic.
‘Will they see me – in your collection?’ she asked, her voice also soft. There was an air of calm around them and, although she’d been angry before reaching him, she was now curious about the kind of work he carried out.
‘They will.’
‘But, as I said, it was a private moment with my family.’
John looked about and then looked back at Ruby. His face wore a puzzled crease across his brow.
‘They’re not here. They’ve gone. They’re at the bottom of the crater …’ Ruby pointed to where she’d sat when he first saw her. ‘It might be fenced off, but that land used to support my home. My parents, little brother and sister are crushed beneath it all. The Shadwell family plot is not in the cemetery. Gran is, but the rest are here.’
John’s shoulders sagged as he expelled a breath. He put his hands behind his head and paced up and down in front of her.
‘I’m so sorry, Ruby. Truly. I never gave it much thought when you said you were alone and had built your own business when we spoke the other day.’ He pointed to her legs. ‘I noticed you limp quite badly. Is that how you injured your leg?’ His voice was loaded with concern.
‘No, I was born with one longer than the other. Or shorter, whichever way you like to say it.’
‘There I go again, me and my big mouth. I’m sorry for being so rude,’ John said, and Ruby saw his face flush with embarrassment.
‘Believe me, others have been just as rude.’ Ruby dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. ‘This job you do, it captures the horrors of war. Not easy, but do you ever know what you are looking at?’ she asked.
‘Not always. There are times I’ve wanted to know but dared not ask, or I’m alone, with no one to explain,’ he said.
‘I did wonder. I can help you here, as the wall you’ve leant against was the home of a bride and groom – married just a week. The wallpaper is the latest one in green. Now look at it, spattered with soot, water, mud and … well, their blood. Photograph it, keep it to remind you of Eagle Street, Coventry, England. The place you saw inside of me – ’
Ruby’s words came in a rush and she sensed the heat in her cheeks. It was time to leave before she embarrassed herself in front of the man who made her heartbeat skip and jump whenever he looked at her.
‘I must go. Fred, my grandfather, will be worried. It was nice to meet you again. Take care.’
Ruby walked away, hoping he’d not stare after her and just see her limp. For the first time in her life she resented the notion that a man would consider her a cripple. Wanting another sneak look at John, she turned back to give a polite wave goodbye and smiled when she noticed he was taking photographs of the wall. He was a listener, a man who understood emotion – qualities Ruby admired.
CHAPTER 14
8th April 1941
Grabbing her case and yelling for Fred to get his, Ruby raced to his room. The siren blasted out the warning of enemy planes heading their way; the ear-splitting sound was exhausting. Adrenalin pumped around her body and her nerves tingled with fear. She tried not to show it, and knew Fred felt the same.
The sirens gave out their eerie whine and alerted them on a regular basis now the winter weather had passed, but no one took them lightly. Ruby and Fred always headed for safety, and tonight was no different.
As fast as Fred could walk, they headed to the Anderson shelter, now fully cleared of her collected items. Once settled under blankets, they waited for the all-clear.
‘That young Tommy is a bit of a character,’ Fred said with a chuckle.
Ruby laughed with him. ‘He certainly is, and his accent, well, if the King sounded like that, no wonder they wanted him to have speech lessons.’
‘Do not disrespect the King, Ruby,’ Fred reprimanded.
Knowing it was wise not to respond, Ruby sat in silence. Outside was a different story and she and Fred moved closer to each other as the first bomb echoed out around the city. The walls of the shelter vibrated. Bomb after bomb dropped, well into the early hours. Memories of the last time they’d experienced such a violent attack churned around Ruby’s insides. Fred trembled as they held each other close. It was not the time to hold back the fear; they needed to claim comfort from another human being.
Once the all-clear sounded, they ventured into the garden, not knowing what they might see. The house stood firm and they looked at each other and sighed out their relief, but exhausted and terrified of what they might see beyond the walls of their sanctuary.
‘Well, we were lucky this time,’ Fred said, and opened the shed to let the cats out. They meowed around his legs.
‘Nice to be wanted,’ Ruby said. ‘I must go, Fred to see … out there – the shop.’
‘You go. I’ll follow on.’
More fires, craters and devastation greeted her once she stepped out onto the main area of Spon Street, and Ruby dared not breathe for fear of inhaling some of the thick black smoke surrounding her. She coughed and choked her way to the shop. One pane of glass had a minor crack, but Ruby could see no other damage. She touched the door. It was warm from the fire burning across the street. Once inside, she found every pail and bucket on the shelves and in the storeroom and filled them with water. Once filled, each one was placed outside the door. Satisfied she’d got enough to make a small impression on the fire, she grabbed them one at a time and threw the contents over the shop front, and then the flames across the road.