Authors: Ellie Dean
‘I do feel better for it,’ admitted Peggy, ‘but there are a dozen and one things I should be doing instead of sitting out here like a lady of leisure.’
‘The dust and the cobwebs will only be back again tomorrow even if you do sweep and polish,’ she replied comfortably. ‘I’d give in gracefully if I were you, Peggy, and let things slide for a bit.’
They both looked up as a squadron of RAF planes roared overhead on their way across the Channel. ‘There’s no sliding for some,’ murmured Peggy as she thought of her son-in-law, Martin, who was no doubt up there on yet another sortie.
‘We need to show Hitler we won’t be bullied,’ said Cordelia. ‘If he will insist upon bombing our loveliest cities then we must retaliate.’
Peggy finished the horrid milk stout and was about to go upstairs and make a pot of tea to take the taste away when Ron came stumping through the back gate with Harvey held back on a lead so he didn’t rush at them or the pram in his over-enthusiasm.
‘Nice to see you’re doing as you’re told for once,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye as he saw the empty stout bottle. He let Harvey loose with an admonition to sit and behave, and the dog flopped down beside the pram and eyed them all piteously.
Peggy noted the spots of paint clinging to Harvey’s fur and Ron’s hair and eyebrows. There were also splatters of white down Ron’s trousers and sweater and on his boots. ‘I see you painted more than Rosie’s wall,’ she said dryly.
He grinned back at her. ‘Aye, I did that,’ he said, deliberately misunderstanding her. ‘The walls and the ceilings of all the upstairs rooms are snowy white now, so they are, and I’ll be making a start on the bar tomorrow.’
‘I wish you were that enthusiastic when it comes to our poor old place,’ Peggy muttered as she continued to knit another sock for Jim.
Ron ignored this small protest and went indoors, crashed about for a few minutes and came back out again with another bottle of stout and his two ferrets. ‘Drink that,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll be taking Flora and Dora up top for a wee while. Brenda and Pearl are opening up for me tonight, and these wee wains need the exercise.’
Harvey sprang to his feet, tongue lolling, ears pricked and eyes gleaming. Ferrets meant a walk on the hills and perhaps a good hunt for rabbits and squirrels.
Ron popped the ferrets into one of the deep pockets of his poacher’s coat. ‘I’ll be back for me tea,’ he added cheerfully before he marched back down the path and through the gate, Harvey racing ahead of him.
‘I don’t know where he gets the energy,’ sighed Peggy, who was feeling unusually languid and lazy as she sat in the sunshine, the knitting forgotten in her lap.
She closed her eyes and relaxed into the chair, lulled by the warmth of the sun, the gentle clucking of the chickens in the pen and the soft coo of the doves in a nearby tree. In the peaceful silence she could almost believe they were not at war – that Jim and the rest of her family weren’t miles away, and that Cissy would be home for her tea instead of driving some Air Vice Marshall about.
She woke with a start to discover that almost two hours had passed, and there was no sign of Cordelia. Daisy was beginning to grizzle and the sun had sunk over the roofs of the nearby houses, leaving the garden in deep, chill shadow. Dragging herself out of the deckchair, she lifted Daisy from her pram and carried her up to the kitchen.
Cordelia was busy at the sink, preparing vegetables to go with the lovely bit of fish Ron had brought home earlier, and which she’d made into fishcakes with lots of potato and a sprinkling of parsley and chives from the pots of herbs by the back door. ‘You’re getting as bad as me,’ she said cheerfully as she chopped cabbage. ‘We both fell asleep out there, you know.’
‘I must be getting old,’ said Peggy as she changed Daisy’s nappy. ‘I didn’t mean to nod off, and now I’m all behind.’
‘Well, if you’ve got a cold behind, you should put something warmer on. You know the old saying, Peggy. “Ne’er cast a clout ’til May is out” – and May doesn’t start until tomorrow.’
Peggy smiled. Cordelia’s hearing aid was on the blink again.
Despite having fallen asleep for a good part of the afternoon, they managed to get the tea ready by six. Ron appeared with Harvey and the ferrets right on cue, and dropped four rabbits on the drainer to be skinned for the pot later.
‘Get those ferrets out of my kitchen,’ said Peggy with a sigh, ‘and take off those boots and wash your hands before you sit down at the table.’
‘Ach, Peggy, you’re a hard woman, so y’are. A peck of dirt never killed anyone.’
Peggy eyed the filthy hands and grubby face. ‘There’s more than a peck of dirt on you, Ronan Reilly,’ she said, trying not to giggle. ‘To be sure, you’re a walking germ factory, so you are,’ she teased in her best Irish accent.
He wagged a dirty finger at her and chuckled. ‘I can see that a day of rest has done you the world of good, Peggy Reilly, but that doesn’t mean you can be cheeky.’
He clumped off down the concrete steps, and reappeared some time later looking much cleaner, having changed into different trousers and one of his new shirts. He held his hands out to Peggy for inspection like a naughty small boy. ‘Are you sure you’ll not be wanting to look behind me ears as well?’ he teased.
‘Get away with you, Ron,’ she said, playfully swiping him with a tea towel.
He sat down at the table, listened for a moment to the girls’ chatter and decided he’d find something more interesting on the wireless. He fiddled with the knobs until he had a clear reception and then turned the volume up so he could hear ‘Listen with Mother’.
Peggy rolled her eyes. As if there wasn’t enough noise in the room with all the girls talking at once. And yet Ron’s choice of programme was rather sobering, for it reminded her that Bob and Charlie were probably listening to the same thing down in Somerset. Not wishing to dwell on how far they were from home, she got on with dishing up the meal.
Everyone tucked into the fishcakes, fried potato and cabbage as the girls discussed their plans for the evening. Sarah, Jane and Suzy had theatre tickets for
The Merchant of Venice
, and Fran was meeting three of the other nurses and going to play bingo at the church hall to help raise money for the local Spitfire fund.
‘What about you, Rita?’ asked Peggy as they sat round the table after the meal, drinking tea.
‘I’m going out too,’ she said, carefully avoiding everyone’s eyes.
There was a chorus of teasing from the others and Rita went bright red. ‘I’m just going for a drink with Paul at the Anchor,’ she said defensively.
‘That’s how it starts,’ said Fran and giggled. ‘To be sure, Rita, you’ll soon be billing and cooing like Suzy.’
‘I will not,’ she snapped as she pushed away from the table. ‘He isn’t the first American I’ve been out with, you know, and I’m fully aware of all the pitfalls, thank you very much.’ She turned on her heel and stomped out of the room as a stunned silence fell in the kitchen behind her.
‘Well, well,’ said Fran. ‘Our little Rita isn’t so innocent after all. Now there’s a surprise.’
‘That’s quite enough of that, Fran,’ said Peggy firmly. ‘Rita’s a good girl, and I won’t have you casting aspersions.’
‘I wasn’t,’ Fran protested as she shook back her fiery curls. ‘Surely to goodness, I was only teasing.’
‘I’m sure you were, but Rita’s only just beginning to find her way, and remarks like that aren’t helpful.’ Peggy stared her down until she looked away.
‘To be sure, I’m sorry, Peggy,’ Fran muttered.
Satisfied that everyone knew how strongly she would defend every one of her girls, Peggy’s flash of anger died. ‘If you’re all going out tonight, shouldn’t you be getting ready?’ she suggested. ‘I think Ron wants to listen to the early news before he goes to the Anchor.’
They all trooped out and Ron gave Peggy a wink. ‘I’m glad I’m not the only one round here who gets it in the neck,’ he teased. ‘But not to worry about Rita. I’ll keep an eye on her tonight.’
Ruby was quite shocked to realise that she had spent almost all of her thirty pounds and used up nearly three years’ worth of clothing coupons on her shopping spree. She carefully hung her beautiful new coat in the wardrobe and put away the rest of her more utilitarian purchases, then stroked the buttery soft leather of the shoes and nestled her cheek against the downy sweater. She’d never possessed anything as beautiful – had never imagined even touching such luxury – and just seeing it all and knowing it belonged to her, made her feel warm inside.
She washed her hands, combed her hair, and decided not to use her new make-up as she would be going to bed after tea and it would be wasteful after all the money she’d spent today. With a happy smile, she went downstairs and found Mrs Fraser in the kitchen.
‘There you are,’ said Mrs Fraser who’d removed the headscarf and apron to reveal tightly permed greying hair and a grey button-through dress which strained at every seam over her generous curves. ‘My goodness,’ she said as she eyed the sweater and skirt and new shoes, ‘you do look smart.’
Ruby grinned with pleasure. ‘I went on a shopping spree.’
‘I didn’t realise Hathaway’s did that sort of thing,’ said Mrs Fraser. ‘I must pop in there tomorrow.’
Ruby could see she was a bit put out that her lodger was able to afford such lovely clothes, so she didn’t say anything about the department store. She glanced round the kitchen for some sign that the meal was ready, but there just seemed to be some empty saucepans in the sink. ‘Do you want some ’elp with the tea?’ she asked.
‘It’s already on the table,’ Mrs Fraser replied. ‘I did warn you to be down at six.’
‘I sort of thought you might call up to let me know when it were ready,’ said Ruby.
Mrs Fraser didn’t bother to reply to this but picked up the water jug and led the way into the dining room. Sitting at the head of the table was a balding, tubby little man in a pinstriped three-piece suit. There was a gold watch-chain across his rotund belly and his many chins rippled over the tight white collar of his shirt. ‘Harold, this is the new evacuee I was telling you about.’
Harold looked up from his half-eaten meal, his eyes beady behind round, horn-rimmed spectacles as they trawled over her from head to foot. ‘Good evening, Ruby. I’m afraid your food won’t be very warm. We eat promptly in this house.’
Ruby didn’t like the way his eyes crawled over her, but she shot him a nervous smile and sat down. ‘Nice to meet yer, I’m sure,’ she muttered. ‘Sorry I were late, but I ain’t got a watch.’
Mrs Fraser filled Ruby’s glass with water before she picked up her knife and fork and resumed her meal. ‘Perhaps it would have been wiser to spend your money on a timepiece instead of fancy clothes,’ she said in a soft tone that belied the steeliness in her expression.
Ruby didn’t flinch beneath that hard look, even though she was disconcerted by it. ‘I’ll get one tomorrow when I finish me shift,’ she replied.
She looked down at the plate of food and her spirits sank even further. A tiny lamb chop was congealing in watery gravy that shone with grease, and beside it sat a boiled potato and a few strands of sliced cabbage. She glanced across at the other plates and saw the remains of carrots, swede and buttery mash, and the bones of at least half a dozen chops. She got the message immediately. Being a lodger meant half rations in this house. Without commenting, she picked up her knife and fork and began to eat.
There was barely any meat on the chop, the boiled potato was as watery as the disgusting gravy and the only edible thing on the plate was the cabbage. The whole meal was lukewarm, there were no more vegetables going by the look of the empty pots in the kitchen, and no bread on the table to bulk the meal out and take the edge off her hunger.
‘That was a lovely dinner as always, my dear,’ said Councillor Fraser, as he dabbed his mouth on a linen napkin and took a sip of water from his crystal glass.
Ruby swallowed down the last of her unappetising food, then noticed how Mrs Fraser put her knife and fork together on the plate and did the same. She looked up and saw their expectant faces. ‘That were very nice,’ she lied politely. ‘Thank you.’
Mrs Fraser dipped her chin in acknowledgement, gathered up the plates and took them into the kitchen.
Councillor Fraser shifted in his chair. ‘I understand you come from London,’ he said. ‘That’s quite a long journey for such a young woman on her own.’
Ruby shrugged. ‘It weren’t so bad. Once I were on the train I didn’t have to do nothing ’til it got here.’ She moved her legs to one side, for the Councillor’s knee had accidentally nudged her thigh.
‘I suppose your husband is away fighting,’ he continued, his gaze steady through the spectacles. ‘It must get very lonely without a man about the place.’
‘I got me mum, and I had work at the pub, so I didn’t get much time to meself.’
‘So you were a barmaid, eh?’
The knee was back again, and Ruby now knew for certain it had been no accident. She regarded him steadily. ‘Yeah, and I learned pretty quick how to deal with blokes what try to take liberties.’
He gave her a sly smile as he moved his knee away. ‘I’m sure you did,’ he murmured as his wife came back into the room.
‘It sounds as if you two are getting along nicely,’ she said as she placed the tray on the table and began to pour weak tea into the cups.
‘We’re getting to know each other very well, thank you,’ said Ruby, her tone flat as she kept her gaze fixed meaningfully on the Councillor’s face.
‘That’s nice, dear. Now drink that up, and then we can sit in comfort and listen to the wireless before bedtime.’
Ruby drank the tea, her earlier high spirits deadened by the realisation that Councillor and Mrs Fraser were not at all what they had first appeared to be. She was as mean as her meals, and he was an old lech who would have to be avoided at all costs. The thought of spending any more time with either of them didn’t appeal at all. ‘I think I’ll go for a bit of a walk and then turn in,’ she said. ‘My shift starts at eight tomorrow morning.’
‘Harold always brings me up a cup of tea around seven,’ said Mrs Fraser comfortably. ‘He’ll knock on your door to make sure you’re awake.’