Authors: Ellie Dean
Ruby pushed out of the chair. ‘I’d love to, but I gotta get back to Nelson Street for me tea. If I’m late Mrs Fraser gives me half-rations and don’t bother to heat it up.’
‘Good heavens,’ gasped Peggy. ‘How mean.’
Ruby tried to make light of it by giving a small shrug. ‘I’ve eaten worse, and at least I get a decent meal at the factory canteen lunchtime.’
Peggy noticed the small, tight smile and the careful nonchalance and realised Ruby was reluctant to say more. ‘Will you come and see me again, Ruby?’
‘Yeah, I’d like that, and perhaps Stan could come with me next time.’ She gave her a sweet, genuine smile. ‘It’s been nice to meet yer, Mrs Reilly. I ’ope you gets better soon.’
Peggy squeezed her little hand and then watched as she clumped down the ward in her heavy working boots. Once she was out of sight, Peggy plucked Stan’s note from her pocket and read it again.
‘Ruby needs your help, Peggy. Nelson Street is not at all suitable. I know it’s a lot to ask – but you’re the only one I could think of who could put things right for her. Stan.’
It was rather cryptic and she didn’t really understand what Stan had been trying to convey. But it was clear he was deeply worried for the girl – to the point where he’d actually manipulated their meeting. Peggy folded the note and tucked it away in the bedside drawer.
In the normal run of things, she’d have gone straight to Nelson Street and taken Ruby home to Beach View – but she was tied to this blessed hospital bed and unable to do anything, which was so frustrating, it made her want to scream. Having spoken to the girl and sensed that she was indeed unhappy with the Frasers, she’d been very tempted to offer her the spare room then and there, but no decisions could be made without consulting the others – and she doubted very much if Doris would agree to taking on another lodger.
She looked at the clock, impatient for visiting time. All she could do was hope that Ron came this evening. He could talk to Stan and get to the bottom of things, and if he thought the girl really was in trouble then she trusted him to make the right decision, regardless of any opposition from Doris.
Chapter Fifteen
RUBY HAD LEFT
the hospital and was just approaching the station when she saw the flash of a scarlet uniform jacket and the unmistakable figure of the Canadian officer she’d met on the train. He was talking to another officer as they emerged from the station, and she quickly darted into a shop doorway before he caught sight of her. She hadn’t really expected to see him again, and the last thing she needed was for him to spot her, so she turned her back and watched their reflections in the shop window as they strolled down the High Street.
She felt faintly ridiculous as she peeked round the window to make sure they’d gone, for she was old enough to stand up to any nonsense from the likes of Michael Taylor – but her life was complicated enough, and the Canadian was far too handsome and charming to be trusted.
She waited until they’d reached the Town Hall, and then she ran past the station and all the way up the hill to Mon Repos. The Town Hall clock was striking six as she breathlessly stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. She was panting hard and her heart was racing from that uphill run in her heavy working boots.
Mrs Fraser emerged from the kitchen with a tray of soup bowls and looked at her with disapproval. ‘You’re just in time,’ she said. ‘I could have done with a hand this evening, Ruby. My poor Harry is feeling most unwell.’
‘Nothing serious, I hope,’ she said with a distinct lack of sincerity.
‘The poor man fell on the kitchen floor and has broken three toes. He’s in the most awful pain.’
Ruby was delighted to hear it. She followed Mrs Fraser into the dining room and saw that Harold was enthroned in a wing-backed chair, with a tray across his lap, his left foot swathed in thick bandages and propped on a nearby stool. ‘That looks painful,’ she said as she sat down at the table.
His gaze was malevolent. ‘It is. And I shall be laid up for at least a week.’
‘Poor you,’ she murmured before she tucked into her soup.
‘It’s all most inconvenient,’ said Marjory as she fussed over him. ‘The council has a great many things to plan and discuss over the next few weeks, and Harold really needs to chair the meetings.’ She finally sat down and started on her soup. ‘I still don’t understand how he could have taken such a tumble – unless you didn’t dry the floor properly after your bath?’ The pale eyes looked at her from across the table.
‘I didn’t have no bath last night,’ said Ruby.
Mrs Fraser frowned. ‘But I specifically told you to have one while we were out. This is the second week you’ve disobeyed me, Ruby, and I am not happy about it. I keep a clean house, and expect my lodgers to wash regularly to get rid of nits and fleas.’
Ruby dowsed the flare of temper at this insult. ‘I don’t have nits and fleas and I wash proper in the basin in me room. The public baths do for me twice a week, and they’re cheaper than what you charge.’
‘Well, really,’ Marjory gasped. ‘Do you hear that, Harold? The cheek of the girl – and to think I work my fingers to the bone to keep and feed her – and that’s all the thanks I get.’
Ruby finished the watery, almost tasteless soup. ‘I never said I weren’t grateful,’ she said calmly, ‘but I gotta watch me pennies.’
Mrs Fraser sniffed and collected the bowls, but before she could say anything else, Ruby had picked up the tray and was carrying it into the kitchen. She didn’t want to be left alone with Harold, for his angry, piggy eyes hadn’t left her since she’d sat down.
‘I must say, Ruby,’ said Marjory as she dished out the corned beef hash, ‘that I am disappointed in you. I thought that coming from the East End slums, you would appreciate a nice, clean, well-ordered home, and willingly comply with our routine.’
‘Oh, but I do, Mrs Fraser. It’s ever so nice – and that food smells lovely.’ Ruby forced a bright smile. ‘It’s just that I’m used to public baths, with a cubicle and a bolt on the door for me money.’
Mrs Fraser made no further comment as she finished serving the soggy hash that was more potato than meat, and they returned to the dining room with the plates.
The rest of the meal was eaten almost in silence, with just the occasional fleeting exchange between Marjory and her husband, who continued to glare at Ruby.
Ruby had smothered the unappetising mess with tomato sauce. She scraped her plate clean then clattered her knife and fork together. ‘That were lovely, thanks a lot,’ she muttered mechanically.
‘You can help me with the dishes, and then we’ll listen to “Name that Tune” with Violet Carson before I have to leave for the WI meeting.’
Ruby felt a stab of alarm. ‘I were planning on going out,’ she said hurriedly.
‘I’d prefer it if you stayed and kept poor Harold company until I get back. I should only be an hour or so, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask, do you?’
‘I had other plans,’ she muttered.
‘What plans?’
Ruby thought fast. ‘I were going to the public baths,’ she said.
‘They close at six,’ replied Marjory as she carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen and dumped them on the wooden drainer. ‘So that’s settled then. You and Harry can have a cosy evening in listening to the wireless, and I can go to my meeting and not worry about him taking any more tumbles.’
Ruby felt quite sick at the thought of being alone with Harold and wished with all her heart that she’d had the courage to tell the lovely Peggy Reilly straight out what it was really like here. But she hadn’t, and now she would have to suffer the consequences.
By the time the washing-up was finished and the Frasers were ensconced in the sitting room by the wireless, Ruby’s stomach was in knots. She left them trying to guess the names of the tunes Violet Carson was playing on her piano and ran up to her bedroom. She couldn’t stay here alone with him, she simply couldn’t – for even with broken toes he was a menace, and by the nasty looks he’d been shooting at her all through tea, he was eager to get his own back.
She changed out of her grease-stained dungarees and boots into her old cotton dress, cardigan and sandals, her thoughts working furiously as she put the sweet-smelling rosebud into a glass of water. Her only option was to leave the back way the minute Marjory closed the front door, and wander about until she saw her coming home again. The thought of sitting in her bedroom all night with Harold trying to get in – and perhaps succeeding – was just too awful.
Grabbing her coat, she carried it downstairs and quickly hung it up in the cupboard under the stairs alongside her gas-mask box. The show was all but over and Marjory would soon be leaving. She went into the sitting room and froze. There was no sign of Harold.
‘Has Councillor Fraser decided to go with you?’ she asked Marjory, who had switched off the wireless and was slipping on her jacket.
‘Of course not,’ she said rather crossly. ‘The Women’s Institute does not allow men to their meetings.’
‘Has he gone to bed then?’
‘You seem very concerned as to the whereabouts of my husband,’ said Marjory stiffly.
‘I just thought,’ stuttered Ruby, ‘that if he’s up and about, and don’t need no help or nothing, I might go out anyway and visit me friend.’
‘I need you to stay here and look after him in case he falls again,’ Marjory retorted. ‘Really, you are the most irritating girl, Ruby. I thought you understood how worried I’d be all evening if he was left alone.’ With that, she picked up her gloves and handbag, adjusted her hat and walked into the hall to collect her gas-mask box from the newel post.
‘But if he can’t walk about on his own, where is he now?’ Ruby persisted.
‘If you really must know, he has gone to the lavatory,’ Marjory snapped. ‘I shall be back before ten, and if I find you’ve disobeyed me and left him alone, then you will be out on the street bag and baggage before morning.’ Her steely gaze fixed on Ruby. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
Ruby was tempted to tell her to stick Mon Repos up her jumper and that she was leaving anyway – right now, this minute. But she knew she was really in no position to argue, for where could she go? So she nodded, and Mrs Fraser left, the sound of the slamming door echoing through the silent house.
The bulb had been removed from the hall light in one of Mrs Fraser’s economy drives, and there was only a feeble glimmer coming from the sitting room, which made the darkness of the rest of the house seem more profound. The escape route out the back was no longer an option. She would have to go out the front and risk Mrs Fraser seeing her leave.
Ruby felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she walked past the partially open door to the dining room and reached into the cupboard under the stairs for her coat and gas-mask box. It was too quiet and there was no sign of Harold. Was he still outside in the back yard? Or had he come into the house and was lurking somewhere in the darkness?
She had one arm in the sleeve of her coat when she heard a noise behind her, but before she could react, a heavy shove caught her in the small of her back and sent her tumbling to the floor. Unable to catch her breath or cry out, she found she was pinned beneath him, his forceful hand mashing her face into the strip of carpet.
‘You don’t do that to me and get away with it,’ he hissed in her ear as his free hand shot up her thigh and pawed at her knickers. ‘If you want to play rough, little girl, then I’m happy to oblige.’
Ruby managed to free her head enough to yell, ‘Get off me,’ as she writhed and kicked, her hands reaching up to claw at his face. ‘Leave me alone, you filthy old pervert,’ she rasped as she struggled against the heavy weight on her back and the pressure of his hand grinding her face into the rough carpet.
‘Not until I’ve finished,’ he panted, his fingers tugging at her underwear and probing between her legs.
Ruby tried to scream, but her mouth and nose were smothered by the carpet, his weight squeezing the air from her lungs and threatening to crack her ribs. She tried to buck him off, to kick out and perhaps make contact with his broken toes as his breath rasped in her ear and his hand continued to explore beneath her dress. But she couldn’t breathe and her struggles were weakening.
Ruby clenched her buttocks against his probing fingers and wriggled furiously, fighting for breath, determined not to be beaten. Then she went suddenly limp, felt the pressure lessen, and reared back with every ounce of strength she had until her head connected with a bone-crunching thud on his nose.
With a roar of fury and pain, he slumped over her, and she felt the warmth of blood dripping on her face. She was still pinned to the floor, but now she could breathe, and that gave her greater strength. She screamed as she kicked and wriggled, trying to roll from beneath him as she reached back to pull his hair and gouge his eyes. But he was too heavy, too aroused and angry – and her scream was smothered as he once again pressed her face into the carpet.
Ron had been deeply disturbed by Stan’s note to Peggy, so he’d collected Harvey from Beach View and gone to the station to find him. They were old friends, and Ron knew he could rely on Stan to tell him everything man to man and not mince his words.
‘Peggy sent me,’ he said after they’d greeted one another and made themselves comfortable in the Nissen hut. ‘What’s all this about, Stan?’
Stan lit the small stove, boiled some water for tea, and gave Harvey a biscuit. ‘There have been rumours over the years about Harold Fraser’s liking for young girls,’ he began.
‘To be sure I’ve heard whisperings,’ replied Ron around the stem of his pipe. ‘He’s not a man I’ve ever taken to, but ’tis dangerous to take such things as gospel when there’s no proof to back them up.’
‘I realise that, Ron, but you and me, well, we’ve lived long enough to know there’s very rarely smoke without fire – and having spoken to Ruby this afternoon, I got the distinct feeling she’s in some kind of trouble up there in Nelson Street.’
‘Aye, that’s what Peggy feels too. Did Ruby actually tell you that Fraser’s been making a nuisance of himself?’