Authors: Ellie Dean
‘I suggest you all go home and get some sleep. You may visit her tomorrow in Women’s Surgical.’ He gave a vast yawn and went back through the double doors, which clattered behind him.
‘Come on, girls,’ said Ron. ‘Let’s fetch Harvey and go home and see what the damage is.’ They collected up bags, gas-mask boxes, flasks and sandwich wrappings, and then Rita and Fran tucked their hands into the crook of his arms and they all set off down the corridor, united in weariness and the profound relief that their darling Peggy was safe.
Chapter Ten
RUBY HADN’T SLEPT
well after returning from the public shelter with her basket filled with her precious new clothes. She’d been keyed up over the need to be out of bed before Harold started his morning prowl, and subsequently kept waking up throughout what was left of the night.
As the light began to stream through the open curtains she groggily climbed out of bed, washed in the basin and quickly pulled on her new trousers and old sweater, and tied the laces on the sturdy boots she’d bought the day before. Dressed and ready for the day, she made the bed, checked on the hidden money and went downstairs.
There was no sign of Harold Fraser, but that was hardly surprising, for the kitchen clock showed it was barely five-thirty. She unlocked the back door and stepped into the yard, which was still in heavy shadow and glittering with dew. Now she could actually see it properly, the outside lav was a gleaming example of Mrs Fraser’s housewifely skills for, unlike the ones at the tenement, it didn’t stink to high heaven, the concrete floor was scrubbed clean beneath the hessian mat, and there was a proper wooden seat.
It flushed efficiently, too, and there was even newspaper cut into neat squares to wipe her bum afterwards. All in all, Ruby thought, the billet was top-notch – and if it hadn’t been for the Frasers, it would have been perfect.
She returned to the kitchen and, having worked out how to use the gleaming white cooker, turned on one of the gas rings, quietly filled the kettle and placed it on top. Opening the nearby cupboard, she found a brown teapot and a large china mug, and in the narrow larder she discovered a packet of tea, a bottle of milk and some sugar. She liked her tea strong and sweet and didn’t even hesitate before putting three scoops of tea into the pot. After the measly meal the previous night she was entitled to something decent.
Once the tea had stewed to just the way she liked it, she poured it into the mug and added two scoops of sugar. Leaning against the stone sink to drink it, she let her thoughts wander as she regarded the pots of bean and tomato plants that grew in the yard.
Everything was very different to what she was used to, and she’d been quite shocked the night before when they’d gone down to the public shelter, to discover how well regarded the Frasers were in this posh little town. There had been respectful greetings, offers of seats, cigarettes and cups of tea, and Harold had become somewhat pompous as his wife preened in the reflected glory. The townspeople obviously didn’t know what the Frasers were really like, and the thought galled her.
And yet she didn’t know why she was so surprised, for they were fundamentally little different from a lot of people she knew in the East End – their public faces so very unlike the ones they showed behind closed doors. She grimaced as she sipped her tea. Ray was a prime example, and she’d been fool enough not to look beyond the handsome, smiling face before she married him.
She turned her thoughts from Ray and the Frasers and felt a tingle of apprehension as the time approached for her to leave for work. It wouldn’t be at all like her shifts in the pub, where she was left to her own devices to deal with the mostly male customers. She knew from her mother that standing for hours beside a production line was far from easy, and that some of the women could get clannish and bullying if they saw the slightest sign of weakness in a newcomer. Ethel, of course, was an old hand at factory work and took it all in her stride. Although Ruby had few fears about her ability to learn the job quickly and handle any awkward situation that might crop up, she just hoped that her first day would go smoothly, that the line manager wasn’t a cow, and that she’d meet some nice girls to pally up with.
But thinking of her mother made her fretful, and she wondered again if she was all right; if Ray was dead, in hospital, or out looking for her. And whether the rozzers were already asking their questions and trampling their size twelves all over the tenements. Not that it would do them much good, she thought. No one had witnessed anything – and even if they had, the entire tenement population was adept at turning suddenly blind and deaf to everything when the police came calling.
‘My goodness. You’re up early.’ Harold was rotund and resplendent in a tartan dressing gown, velvet slippers and striped pyjamas, his thinning hair smeared over the balding dome of his head.
‘I’m due at work soon,’ she replied as she poured another mug of tea and added sugar.
‘Go easy with that,’ he said hastily. ‘It is rationed, you know.’
‘Yeah, and you’ve got me food stamps, so I reckon I’m entitled to a bit of sugar in me morning cuppa.’
He raised an eyebrow as he peered at the dark colour of the stewed tea, but seeing the defiance in Ruby’s eyes he made no comment and put the kettle on.
Ruby watched him set out a tray with a cloth, cups and saucers, sugar bowl, milk jug and four sweet biscuits. ‘What can I have for me breakfast?’
‘There’s bread in the larder and a pot of dripping,’ he replied as he refreshed the pot of tea with boiling water and placed it on the tray.
She wasn’t about to be fobbed off with bread and flaming dripping. ‘I saw eggs in there, and a bit of ’am,’ she replied.
‘The eggs are for Marjory,’ he said firmly. ‘My wife has a delicate constitution, and it’s important she has her boiled egg every morning.’
Ruby pursed her lips at the thought of the fat and far from delicate Marjory. ‘Reckon I’ll just have the ’am and a bit of toast then.’ Without waiting for him to respond, she got the bread and the knuckle of boiled ham out of the larder and began to scrape off the few bits of meat onto a plate while the bread toasted under the grill.
‘I do believe that Marjory was planning to use that for soup,’ he murmured.
‘There ain’t enough here to poke in yer eye, let alone make soup,’ she retorted. ‘Best not to waste it.’
She heard him cluck his tongue before he picked up the tray and took it upstairs, but she ignored him. If she didn’t eat something proper before she went to work she was likely to keel over, and that wouldn’t do at all.
She couldn’t find the butter she’d seen the previous night – Marjory had probably hidden it away with the cheese and crackers – so she spread a thin layer of dripping on the two bits of toast, slathered them with the tomato sauce she’d found in the cupboard and sandwiched the scrapings of ham between them. It was a small victory and by the time she’d munched her way through it and finished her second mug of tea, she was ready for anything.
The Frasers were still upstairs as she left the house, the front door key safely tucked into her trouser pocket. Swinging her gas-mask box in her hand, she felt the warmth of the early sun on her face and the clean, salty air ruffling her hair as she strode away from Mon Repos and headed for the factory estate.
She reached Jenkins’ dairy just as the gates opened, and she stood and watched as the four enormous shire horses emerged with their youthful drivers, the drays loaded with crates of rattling bottles. They were a lovely sight, reminding Ruby of the days before the war when the draymen would come to the pubs to deliver the barrels of beer, and the rag and bone man would slowly plod the streets with his patient old nag, the dray loaded with all sorts of unwanted junk.
She grinned back at the fair-haired girl who waved a cheerful good morning and looked as if she was having the time of her life up there on that high wooden seat. But she didn’t envy her, for as much as she admired the lovely big horses, they frightened the life out of her. She waited until the horses had gone their separate ways and the gates were shut behind them before she set off again and wandered past the sprawling allotments.
The residents of Cliffehaven had obviously answered the call to dig for victory with some enthusiasm. There were already a couple of hardy souls working in the rich, dark soil, and someone was sitting in the doorway of one of the little sheds smoking a pipe and looking out at the row upon row of sprouting greenery. Frameworks of poles supported beans and peas, and wire mesh protected delicate seedlings. She had no idea what most of the vegetables were, for she’d only seen them on a market stall before today, and wouldn’t have known the green shoots of a carrot from a spud.
She finally came to the factory complex which sprawled over several acres behind a high wire fence. As she had a bit of time before she was due to clock on, she showed her ID and work docket to the guard on the gate and then wandered round to get her bearings.
Silvery barrage balloons drifted above the many buildings, glinting in the sun and swaying in the light breeze, and as she strolled beneath them she found an enormous underground shelter, a huge canteen, washrooms, and sheltered rest areas for when it rained.
The factories seemed to make everything from tools, parachutes and ammunition, to barrage balloons, plane parts, engines and leather boots. She could see trucks parked by enormous storage sheds, could hear wirelesses blaring from every building above the rumble and crump of heavy machinery, and felt the energy of this busy, productive place.
‘You look about as lost as me. Is this your first day?’
Ruby turned and smiled at the small, plump girl with the pretty round face and bright blue eyes who grinned back at her. ‘It certainly is. You too?’
‘Yes.’ She hitched her gas-mask box over her shoulder and shuffled her feet in their sturdy boots as she glanced at the bruising on Ruby’s face. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but that looks awfully painful,’ she said.
Ruby had forgotten about the bruises now the swelling in her jaw had gone down. ‘It’s a coupl’a days since I done it, so they don’t hurt no more.’
The girl accepted this explanation and eyed Ruby’s trousers, boots and sweater. ‘You look very workmanlike,’ she said, ‘but I must confess I feel a bit silly in this get-up. My mother had a complete fit when she saw I was wearing overalls – said it wasn’t the done thing at all for respectable girls of seventeen.’
Ruby giggled. ‘I think you look just fine – and of course they’re practical. You’d look proper daft in a skirt and high heels.’
The other girl chuckled and brushed her long fair hair from her eyes. ‘I’m Lucy Kingston, by the way,’ she said as she stuck out her hand.
‘Ruby Clark.’ The small hand was soft, the nails like little pale pink shells. There was only a year between them, but Ruby could tell that she’d had a lifetime of experience compared to Lucy and that, with her soft hands, plump sweetness and posh accent, she’d be an instant target of the bullies. She felt suddenly protective of her, even though they had only just met. ‘You from round here, then, Lucy?’
She shrugged as if in apology. ‘I’ve lived here all my life, and if it wasn’t for Mother, I’d be off and doing something exciting like delivering Spitfires.’
‘Blimey,’ breathed Ruby, ‘you got more guts than me, gel. But I suppose yer mum don’t want you doing dangerous stuff like that.’
Lucy gave a sigh. ‘I don’t think she’d mind, actually,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But she isn’t very well and I have to look after her now Daddy’s gone back to sea.’ She glanced at the wedding ring on Ruby’s finger. ‘I suppose your husband’s away fighting as well?’
‘He certainly is,’ she replied lightly, ‘that’s why I’m down here.’
‘But you’re from London, aren’t you? Is it as bad as they say?’
‘Round where I come from it is, but that’s because of the docks and suchlike. The city’s in a pretty bad way too, but we all just get on with it – there ain’t much else we can do, really.’
‘I know. Ghastly, isn’t it? But at least we girls have got the chance to take on jobs we would never have had before the war. I’m looking forward to earning my own money and being independent. It’s getting a bit tedious having to traipse round the shops with Mother, who of course chooses everything I wear because she’s the one paying.’
‘I’m surprised you went for a factory job,’ Ruby murmured. ‘A girl like you could find all sorts of better things to do than stand in a production line.’
Lucy shrugged delicately. ‘I was so desperate to get out of the house and do something useful I took the first thing they offered me,’ she admitted.
They both heard the hooter which signalled the end of the midnight-to-eight shift, and stood watching as a stream of women came clattering out of the factories like great flocks of squawking geese.
‘Looks like it’s our turn, Lucy,’ said Ruby as she pulled a headscarf from her pocket. ‘You got a scarf? Only you can’t have yer ’air floating about with machinery going.’
Lucy bit her lip, the sunny smile fading into a frown. ‘I didn’t think to bring one. Oh dear, will it matter terribly, do you think?’
Ruby handed hers over. ‘My hair’s shorter, and I expect I can get a lend of one,’ she said lightly. She helped Lucy bundle her baby-fine hair under the scarf and tied it securely at the front.
Lucy’s little face was still concerned as she suddenly noticed they were surrounded by a large group of women who were waiting to start the same shift. ‘Have you done factory work before, Ruby?’ she asked fretfully. ‘Only this is my first ever job and I haven’t a clue. I’m terrified of making a fool of myself.’
Ruby smiled at her encouragingly. ‘We can learn together, ’cos I ain’t done this sort of thing before neither.’
Lucy gave a long sigh of relief. ‘I’m so glad we met, Ruby,’ she said as she tucked her hand into the crook of Ruby’s arm. ‘It’s always nice to make a friend on your first day, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is,’ said Ruby warmly as they joined the other women and headed for the vast corrugated iron shed. They came from different worlds, but circumstances had brought them together, and this was a new day, a new beginning, and perhaps the start of a close friendship that would see them both through these confusing times.