‘Ruby, stop. Look at you, pale as a sheet. We end the discussion here —’ Fred cut into the conversation ‘– we’ll adopt Tommy, and remain your guardians. It suits us all, and protects you both, and that is all we want to do.’
Ruby looked at Tommy, expecting to see him offering up a toothless grin, but instead a large tear rolled down his cheek and dropped onto the table.
‘Tommy?’
‘Goodness, lad, whatever is the matter?’ Beatty rushed to Tommy’s side, and only just beat Ruby.
Beatty put her arms across his shoulder, and Ruby knelt to his level.
‘Tell us. What’s made you cry?’
Gulps and sniffles followed by a loud blow of his nose on Fred’s handkerchief settled into a final sob.
‘You don’t like me,’ Tommy stuttered out to Ruby.
‘What makes you say that? Of course I like you. In fact, I love you – for some reason or another.’ Ruby made her voice light-hearted, adding a jovial tease and ruffling his hair.
Tommy pushed her hand away. Turning his head to look her in the face, Ruby was taken aback by his words. ‘Na, you won’t be me big sista. If you loved me, you’d be me big sista.’
She looked to Beatty and Fred, then back at Tommy. ‘I do want to be, and will be a big sister to you. I’ll be a sister, auntie and mummy rolled into one, I love you that much, Tommy. What I won’t have is the same name as you. I have a very special reason to keep my name.’
His small arms snaked their way around her neck. ‘Promise?’
With a kiss on his forehead, Ruby scooped him up and a surge of affection engulfed her. She buried her face into his hair and she whispered her promise.
‘Come and sit on my knee, Tommy. We need to chat about so many things.’ Beatty held out her arms.
Clambering down from Ruby, Tommy went to her and snuggled into her lap. Ruby was surprised to see him pop his thumb into his mouth, but said nothing.
‘So, you’ll be Beatrice Lester soon.’ Ruby gave Beatty a grin.
‘I suppose I will.’ Beatty gave a laugh. ‘Who’d have thought that, eh, Fred?’
Tommy wriggled upright on her lap. ‘And I’ll be Thomas Lester. Thomas Lester the orphan thief. I ’eard you call me that yesterday. Orphan thief …’ He grinned and looked at Fred.
Fred gave a shake of his head. ‘We’ll hear no more talk like that, my lad. It was idle talk on my part, and I’m sorry you heard me. Besides, that’s all behind you now. My dad’s name was Thomas. If you take my name it will carry on, but we’re happy if you want to keep your own, Tommy.’
‘Na, you’re all right. Me mum never wanted me, and no one knows ’oo me dad is – a wrongun like me mum is all they said at the ’ome. I want to be more like you, not a thief.’
Ruby felt Tommy needed steering away from the subject of stealing. ‘I know, you will be Tommy Lester, our family jester,’ she said, and then spent the next five minutes explaining what a jester was, much to the amusement of Beatty and Fred.
Beatty held onto Fred’s arm as they walked away from the register office as Mr and Mrs Lester. Tommy trotted alongside them in his Sunday best, and Ruby walked with Helen, whose surprise visit had delighted them all.
Back at Garden Cottage, they gathered around the table to watch Fred and Beatty cut their cake.
‘It was extremely generous of you, Helen. It’s beautiful,’ Beatty said, and handed Fred a knife.
Helen waved a dismissive hand. ‘It’s a small token, but remember, only the top half is to be eaten. I don’t think even the chickens would enjoy the pretty cardboard bottom layer.’
‘I beg first slice,’ Tommy said, and held out his plate. Ruby took it from him and laid it on the table.
‘Manners, Tommy. Fred and Beatty have another part of the wedding ceremony to perform. They have to cut it, and take the first slice.’ She watched his lip drop in disapproval of the news she gave him, and laughed. ‘But you will get second slice, right, Beatty, Fred?’
‘We’d better get the job done then, before the boy starves,’ Fred said and placed Beatty’s hand over his as he guided the knife through the layer of white icing.
Their guests politely applauded the newlyweds and raised a glass of extremely watered-down sherry as a toast, and the handful who’d been invited into their home offered congratulations, clutched at a thin slice of cake and left.
For Ruby, Beatty, Fred and Tommy, life moved on as usual. They excused themselves from Helen in order to change out of their Sunday best and, by the time a light lunch had been enjoyed, everyone had forgotten it was a wedding celebration. Exactly how Fred and Beatty wished it to be remembered. They were far more excited about signing the guardianship papers for Tommy in pre-adoption preparations the following day.
Ruby and Helen took a walk to the local park and sat on a bench watching people working amongst the plants and trees. It made a change for Ruby not to be sporting her gardening clothes and hoeing row after row of soil.
‘What are your plans now, Ruby? I’ve never known a girl with so many brilliant ideas floating around her head,’ Helen asked, and took a bite of a slice of cake they’d taken with them.
Ruby relayed her idea of the memory books and keeping a record for the Coventry residents.
‘Will you write something for me?’ Ruby asked. ‘Your feelings of that night, and after. You can write about meeting me; I don’t mind. I’d like to include you in mine.’
‘I think you’ve thought of something wonderful, and what you’ve created in the shop is lovely. A happy corner where people are fundraising. Fred and Beatty are good for you. They look happy enough, and Tommy’s a little dear. But how about you, Ruby? How’s life treating you? Not publicly, I mean. But inside. How are you coping nowadays?’
Standing and stretching out her back, Ruby looked at Helen. ‘I fell in love. Fallen – I’ve fallen in love. If that’s what the feeling is, outside of a family. Yes, I think I’m in love,’ she confessed shyly.
Rising to her feet, Helen went to Ruby with her hands on her hips and her head tilted to one side. Ruby noticed a twinkle in her eye. ‘And? I assume it’s the Canadian.’
‘John. Jean-Paul Clayton, to be precise. Yes, he’s a photographer for the Canadian army, and away somewhere – in the thick of things were his words.’
‘Ah, that will explain the long face. I thought there was something playing on your mind. You smiled a lot at the wedding, but I could see something worrying you.’ Helen reached out and took Ruby’s hands in hers. ‘You understand he might never return – for several reasons, and one being he might have toyed with you whilst in town. Understand? Use it as a hard lesson learned, Ruby. He moved on, and you must do the same. You are young. Too young, some might say.’
Slowly, Ruby shook her head from side to side. ‘He’s coming back to me. He promised.’
Helen gave a slow nod. ‘He said that, and I am sure he meant it at the time, but Ruby, promises often get broken. Don’t pin your hopes on him, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t wait for ever.’ She gave Ruby a hug. ‘I must get to the station. You take care of yourself, and keep writing. I love reading your news. And don’t forget, you are still young.’