Flashbacks of the events of November found Ruby needing to stop and catch her breath every few moments. Everywhere she turned there were desperate faces staring back at her, their eyes willing her to say it was a dream – another nightmare. She threw bucket after bucket of water onto surrounding land and buildings, working with her eyes directed away from people, their pain unbearable. Hitler’s men had unleashed their political rage against the innocent yet again. Who were the enemy? Ruby refused to believe ordinary men would carry out such cruel and violent acts against women and children. However, life had forced Ruby to enter adulthood at a rapid pace and the naïve girl she’d once been no longer existed. Of course these sorts of things happened. War forced the commandment of love thy fellow man to one side; enemies suffocated them under the clouds of ash, suppressing independent thoughts and bringing survival of the fittest to the fore. War brought out the worst in those who wished to rule, but those whose only wish was to continue living a simple life – she saw the best of them come into play. The enemy had a job to do and, unfortunately for Coventry, they were doing it rather well.
Once satisfied she’d saved the exterior of the shop, Ruby went inside and locked the door as she waited for Fred to arrive. She could not face seeing the fresh devastation brought to her city. She washed her hands in the sink and fluffed her hair, which she’d noticed was sitting beyond her shoulders with a hint of a curl at the bottom. No more sitting on a kitchen chair whilst her mother cut it to the base of her neck, admiring its rich auburn colour. For months Ruby had simply tied it back or scooped it under an old cap of Fred’s – an image captured for ever by a wartime photographer – and every day she cringed at what her mother would have thought. Baggy trousers, an old sweater and cap were not exactly her idea of a sixteen-year-old’s attire. Ruby was past caring and wore whatever was practical when working.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t young Tommy,’ she said as he and Fred tapped on the door. She pulled it open and Tommy ran inside, full of life and excitement.
‘Did you see them bombers flyin’ over last night?’
‘No, I did not. I was inside my shelter with Fred. Where on earth were you if you saw the planes?’
‘I … um … I …’
‘Did you sneak outside?’ Fred asked.
‘N … yeah. I snuck out when me mum and auntie weren’t lookin’.’
Fred and Ruby exchanged concerned glances. Neither believed the boy and Ruby was alerted to the violent blush spreading across the boy’s face.
‘Where do you and your family live, Tommy? I take it the family are safe?’ she asked.
‘Yeah. Don’t you worry ’bout us, Rubes, we’re fine. We need a bob or two, though. Got this to sell. Was me Gran’s,’ Tommy said and held out a hat pin.
Ruby took it from him. ‘Your family have lovely things, Tommy. This is too good for me. Isn’t there a jeweller you can ask for a proper price?’
‘Me auntie said I’m to only come to you. She said you are honest,’ Tommy said and his flushed face remained staring up at her. His grubby fingers, with nails chewed to the quick, picked at a cuff of his equally grubby jacket. The term ‘street urchin’ had sprung to Ruby’s mind the first time she’d seen him, and today he suited the title.
‘Listen. I need to speak with your aunt and explain she could earn more elsewhere. I try to be honest, but feel I’m cheating her out of much needed cash. Do you understand?’ Ruby spoke with a firm voice. It had no effect on the chipper Tommy.
‘You ain’t gotta ’splain. I ain’t fick. Me auntie will ’ammer me to bits if I brung a stranger ’ome,’ he said and with pleading eyes looked to the plate of biscuits.
‘Right, well, this will be the last piece I buy from you, Tommy. If she wants me to take her pretty things, she’ll have to come herself. School is where you should be, lad. Fetch a glass of milk and two biscuits, sit here with Fred, whilst I go to check on Beatty. Fred, you all right looking after the shop? When Tommy’s finished eating, he’s going to go home. Right, Tommy?’
Tommy frowned, bit on a biscuit and chewed.
‘Tommy? Home when you’ve finished,’ Ruby said.
The boy nodded.
‘I’ll see he goes, Ruby. You check on Beatty. She’ll be scared witless after last night. It’s bad out there again,’ Fred said.
When Ruby arrived at Beatty’s house she saw the elderly woman standing by her gate. Ruby waved, but Beatty simply dabbed her eyes with the corner of her apron with one hand and propped herself against her gate with the other.
‘Beatty …’ Ruby said as she approached.
‘Wicked … Wicked, that’s what they are,’ Beatty replied, and continued to dab away the tears.
‘I take it you aren’t hurt? We’re not hit. Shop has a cracked window, but Fred will sort it out for me. Beatty, come back with me for a while – for a bit of company,’ Ruby said.
Beatty didn’t argue; she walked back to her front door and pulled it closed.
Linking her arm through Beatty’s, Ruby listened as her friend talked about life before the war, of baking bread and cakes without wondering whether she had enough ingredients, and enjoying a good Sunday joint of beef. Cheap cut, slowly cooked over a batch of potatoes. By the time they’d reached the shop, Ruby’s salivary glands were working double time. She pushed open the door, relieved to see Tommy had left for home, and pleased to see three people browsing the shelves. Fred was serving a fourth.
‘We’ll go out back, Beatty,’ she said and encouraged her friend through to the rear of the shop.
‘Fred’s in his element. He’s a kindly soul,’ Beatty said and stood by the door, watching as Ruby removed clothing items from a clothes horse. ‘Here, let me fold them. You go and sell something – that’s where you belong.’
Back out beside Fred, Ruby nudged him when the customers left. ‘Beatty was not in a happy state when we met. Go easy on the teasing today. I think she’s terrified and covering it up with endless chatter about the past.’
‘Leave Beatty to me. She’ll be all right. We’ll get her to eat with us and relax a bit.’
They ate and chatted until daylight started to hint at giving up.
‘I’d best go and get some sleep.’ Beatty rose to her feet.
‘I’ll see you home,’ Ruby offered.
‘You go back to Garden Cottage. I’ll walk with Beatty and get some air. I’ve only walked a few yards today,’ Fred said, pulling his cap onto his head.
‘Make sure you come right back. No wandering off down the pub,’ Ruby said and laughed. As often happened, the laughter caught on and all three enjoyed a light moment.
‘I’ll send him right home, Ruby. Never fear.’
Fred chuckled. ‘Women!’ he said in jest.
Ruby stood by the uncracked window and watched the pair walk away; once they were out of sight she locked up.
Back home, she went to the bookshelf and ran her finger across the selection of Stephen’s books she’d kept back when clearing out his belongings. The titles she wasn’t sure of, she’d put outside the door for people to take away and they’d gone within a day. Eventually, she stopped trying to choose from the titles, closed her eyes and touched a book. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë was to be her evening read. Tonight, Ruby realised it was the first time she’d had time to sit alone without worries of where her future was heading, and she focused upon the orphan Jane Eyre and thanked the stars above she did not have a cruel aunt. At times thoughts of Tommy and his aunt threatened to distract her, but she suppressed them and concentrated upon Jane’s story.