Authors: Ellie Dean
The dishes were clean and most of them were dried by the time Ron stumped up the stairs into the kitchen. She could see by his expression that he was not in the best of moods after dealing with Doris, but this might be the only opportunity she had to get him alone.
She left Cordelia to put away the clean crockery, caught Ron’s eye and beckoned him into the hall.
Ron frowned. ‘What is it, Ruby, girl?’
‘It’s something I need you to do,’ she said urgently. As his frown deepened she quickly explained about Peggy’s clothes. ‘Can you keep Doris down in the cellar for ten minutes while I go into her room to get them?’
‘Aye, I’ll do that.’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘Better get in there now, and I’ll talk loudly if she decides to leave the scullery.’
‘And warn Cordelia I’ll be gone for a bit. I don’t want her calling out or coming to find me.’
‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave when Peggy Reilly practises to deceive,’ he said on a sigh. Then, with a conspiratorial wink, he strode back into the kitchen.
Ruby didn’t waste time, and quickly went into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar so she could hear if Ron raised his voice. The room smelled of Doris’s expensive perfume and was as neat as a pin, with a highly polished chest of drawers, a dressing table adorned with silver hairbrushes and little crystal jars, and a large wardrobe which took up an entire wall. Daisy’s cot was jammed in close to the bed beneath the window which overlooked the back garden, and a froth of lace and silk nightwear had been draped over the pillows.
Her heart was thudding as she stood on the dressing stool and took a canvas holdall from the top of the wardrobe. Shoving the stool back in place, she opened the cupboard doors. She could see immediately what belonged to Doris, for the quality of the clothing that hung from the padded hangers was a world away from Peggy’s rather shabby and well-worn skirts, dresses and costumes that dangled from wire hangers – the shoes an entirely different breed to the others, with their soft leather and fancy bows and buckles, each one with a shoe tree inside it so they kept their shape.
Ruby selected a loose cotton dress, a linen jacket and a flat pair of sandals, which she carefully placed in the bag, and then turned her attention to the chest of drawers. Again it was easy to pick out Peggy’s hand-knitted cardigan from the cashmere sweaters. Underwear was in the dressing table, and she quickly pulled out knickers, vest, bra and petticoat, dithered over the corset, stockings and suspender belt and decided they wouldn’t be at all comfortable on her scar, so left them in the drawer.
With everything neatly packed into the holdall, she glanced round the room to make sure she hadn’t left any sign of her being there, and then listened keenly at the door before easing through it and closing it with a click. She was about to heave a sigh of relief when she heard Ron’s loud voice coming from the kitchen.
‘To be sure, Doris, I’m sure those gloves are perfectly adequate.’
‘There is no need to shout in such a vulgar fashion,’ retorted Doris, her footsteps loud on the kitchen lino. ‘Not all of us are deaf.’
Panic spurred Ruby into flight and she took the stairs two at a time, dashed into her bedroom and closed the door. Her heart was pounding and her mouth was dry as she leaned against the door, the holdall clasped to her chest, listening for the sound of following footsteps.
But all was quiet, and it seemed she’d got away with it. With a sigh of relief, she tucked the holdall under her bed, making sure the bedspread draped over the end to hide it so it couldn’t be seen from the doorway. Satisfied that she’d fulfilled part of her promise to Peggy, she waited until her pulse was steady before returning to the kitchen.
There was no sign of Doris, but Ron was helping Cordelia put away the last of the crockery. ‘I’ve done it,’ she murmured. ‘Thanks for that.’
‘’Tis my pleasure,’ he whispered back.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Doris had emerged from the scullery, her arms encased to the elbows in yellow rubber gloves, her expression and tone aggressive.
‘Nothing that concerns you, Doris,’ said Ron airily. ‘What’s the matter? Has the boiler gone out?’
‘I cannot possibly wash nappies while that filthy dog of yours keeps sticking his nose up my skirt,’ she snapped. ‘Remove it immediately.’
‘To be sure, Doris, that’s an offer I’m having to refuse,’ said Ron woefully. ‘I wouldn’t dream of removing your skirt.’
Neither Ruby nor Cordelia could quite smother their giggles as Doris grew red and snorted. ‘Don’t be disgusting. Remove the dog, Ronan, or I shall be forced to tie it up to the garden gate.’
His look said that it was she who should be tethered in the garden and he stomped back through the kitchen.
‘What are you sniggering at, girl?’ Doris’s eyes were steely as they settled on Ruby. ‘Get on with your work.’
Ruby’s laughter died. ‘You don’t order me about, lady,’ she said coldly. ‘I ain’t yer maid.’
‘You will not speak to me in that rude manner,’ snapped Doris.
‘It ain’t your business how I speak,’ retorted Ruby, her hands on her hips, ‘and you should mind yer own manners before you start on at me.’
Doris was bug-eyed, her mouth working like a fish out of water as she tried to respond. ‘Well, really,’ she gasped finally, and then turned on her heel and went back into the scullery.
Ruby closed the door behind her and grinned at Cordelia. ‘I ain’t usually that rude, but she really winds me up.’
‘She winds everybody up,’ said Cordelia, who was still chuckling.
Once the kitchen was tidy, Ruby swept and mopped the floor, and then took the mop and bucket into the hall to give the lovely red and blue tiles a good clean. She opened the front door to let the fresh air dry the floor while she scrubbed the steps, just as her mother had done every morning when her father was alive and they’d been living in the little back-to-back terraced house in Bow. The physical labour, fresh air and the warmth of the sun on her back restored her spirits, and she was humming to herself as she finished the last step and gathered up her bucket and brush.
Cordelia came out of the kitchen clucking with amusement. ‘The silly woman’s moaning and groaning and making a complete drama out of having to do the washing and use the mangle and scrubbing-board,’ she said in a stage whisper. ‘Goodness only knows when she last did the laundry – but it’ll do her good to experience real life for a change.’
‘I suppose she always had a char to do the rough work,’ murmured Ruby. ‘My mum used to do it for a lady in South Ken, and she told me the woman had never been down into the kitchen in all the years she’d lived there.’ She grinned back at Cordelia. ‘It’s another life for some, ain’t it?’
‘Indeed it is, but some forget who they are and put on airs and graces.’ Cordelia glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen and sniffed with disapproval. ‘Money might buy nice clothes and expensive manicures, but it does
not
buy class.’ She jabbed her walking stick onto the damp tiles and carefully began to make her way across the hall floor.
Ruby abandoned the mop and bucket and rushed to her side. ‘Mind how you go,’ she warned. ‘The floor’s still a bit slippery in places. Do you want me to help you upstairs?’
‘I’m quite capable, dear,’ she said, ‘but a steadying hand is always welcome. I need to get ready for my outing.’
Ruby stayed at her side as she slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She could see the excitement in the lovely old face, and her heart went out to her. She was clearly very happy here and everyone loved her, but the promise of a rare outing with all the other old dears had brought an added sparkle to her eyes.
Ruby saw her safely into her room then went back downstairs to empty the bucket into the water butt, and put away the mop and broom. Doris was pegging out the rows of dazzling white nappies, but they didn’t acknowledge one another as Ruby said hello to Daisy and earned a beaming, almost toothless smile. She was a sweet, chubby baby, and Ruby found it hard to resist picking her up and giving her a cuddle – but she satisfied her longing by caressing the sweet cheek before hurrying back into the house.
She went back up to the kitchen, found some cleaning cloths under the sink and began to polish the brass stair-rods and the heavy oak bannisters, taking pride in how she made them shine. As Fran and Rita were still asleep, she didn’t like to start on the hoovering, so she began cleaning the bathroom. It was a joy to be doing something useful for those who’d given her such a happy refuge, and a delight to have such a big house to clean and polish and make ready for Peggy’s homecoming.
She had finished the bathroom and was about to start on the lav when Cordelia emerged from her bedroom. ‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance, dear,’ she said fretfully, ‘but do you think you could help me finish dressing?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ she replied happily. She stepped into the cosy bedroom, glancing at the family photographs sitting on the narrow shelf above the gas fire and little treasures dotted about. It was a lovely room, smelling faintly of lavender and mothballs. There was a comfortable chair by the gas fire, a beautiful patchwork cover on the bed and little lacy cloths draped over the small tables where pretty ornaments were displayed.
Ruby fastened the row of buttons down the front of Cordelia’s sprigged cotton frock, buckled the narrow white belt, and then tied her shoelaces. Taking the triple string of beautiful pearls Cordelia handed her, she carefully secured them around the slender neck and then helped her on with her pale yellow linen jacket and adjusted the sling.
‘I thought that as I don’t get the chance to go out much these days, I’d wear my hat,’ said Cordelia. ‘Could you fetch it, dear? It’s on the top shelf of the wardrobe.’
Ruby opened the wardrobe and was enveloped in the smell of mothballs. She reached for the hat, which had silky roses fixed to a yellow ribbon around the crown, and blew off the accumulated dust.
Settling it on the thick white hair, she stood back and admired the effect. ‘You look proper lovely,’ she breathed. ‘And them roses in yer ’at match the jacket just right.’
‘I don’t scrub up too badly, do I?’ Cordelia regarded her reflection in the pier glass and nodded with satisfaction. ‘Though I suspect Mr Wilkins will only grumble as usual about mutton dressed as lamb.’ She realised Ruby had no idea what she was talking about. ‘He’s the Chairman of the Pensioners’ Club, and is inclined to look down his nose if he doesn’t approve.’
‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted to have the company of such an elegant lady,’ Ruby said stoutly.
‘I don’t know about that,’ muttered Cordelia. ‘He was once considered quite a catch, you know, and some of the old ladies have been trying to snare him now he’s widowed and rattling round that big house of his. He used to be quite handsome, but he’s gone to seed a bit now he’s turned eighty and is grumpy about everything.’
Ruby didn’t dare laugh, for Cordelia was looking very serious, and she didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Cordelia’s expressive eyes became curious. ‘Is your husband a handsome man?’
‘He’s good-looking, I suppose, but looks ain’t worth a light if you ain’t got the manners to go with ’em.’ She regretted the words the minute they were spoken, for Cordelia was suddenly as alert as a whippet.
‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘That sounds as if things aren’t very happy between you.’
‘It’s one of the reasons I left London,’ she replied dismissively. ‘D’you want an ’and to get down the stairs?’
‘Not yet,’ said Cordelia. She sat down in the chair, her expression determined. ‘Tell me about your husband, Ruby.’
She realised Cordelia wouldn’t budge until she’d told her something, so she perched on the edge of the bed and tried to calculate how little she could get away with. ‘There ain’t much to tell,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s a wrong’un through and through, and I were daft to fall for his charms.’
Cordelia’s gaze was steady. ‘Was he violent? Is that why you left him?’
Ruby just nodded. She couldn’t tell this lovely, genteel lady what life with Ray had been like – or even touch on the terrible violence that had sent her fleeing from London in fear of her life.
‘Why don’t you get a divorce?’
Ruby blinked at her in astonishment. ‘I didn’t think people like you approved of such things?’
Cordelia clucked her tongue. ‘I might be from a generation who believed divorce was a terrible scandal to be avoided at all cost, but I’m fully aware that some marriages should be brought to a swift end – especially if there is violence. I don’t know much about how to arrange such things, but I could telephone my solicitor and make an appointment for you to go and see him, if you’d like.’
Hope flared and died within an instant. ‘Ray would never agree to a divorce and all the stuff it involves,’ she said with a sigh. And then she smiled. ‘But thanks for the offer.’
‘Does he know where you are?’
Ruby shook her head. ‘And I never want him to find out, neither.’
Cordelia regarded her for a long, silent moment and then nodded and struggled out of her chair. ‘We’d better go downstairs,’ she said. ‘The charabanc will be here soon.’
Ruby was about to open the door when Cordelia’s soft hand rested on her arm. ‘Thank you for your help this morning, Ruby,’ she said. ‘I know I can’t do much about your situation, but if you ever need to talk, you know where I am.’
Ruby nodded as the tears formed a lump in her throat. They had been strangers until two days ago; now she felt blessed to have this family’s loving support and understanding and felt the stronger for it. ‘Thanks, Grandma Finch. I’ll remember that.’
She took the walking stick and handbag as Cordelia clung to the bannister with her uninjured hand and slowly negotiated the stairs. Ruby’s hand hovered beneath her elbow, ready to steady her if she lost her footing on the damp floor, until they finally reached the kitchen.
Cordelia settled onto one of the chairs by the table. ‘It looks as if Doris has taken Daisy for her morning constitutional,’ she said. ‘I expect she’ll head straight for her home in Havelock Gardens to interrogate poor Anthony over his evening out with Suzy.’