Eddie looked down at his feet.
‘Oh no, Eddie, you haven’t . . .’ Ruby cried, rushing to where she had left her bag on the floor. Pulling out her purse, she discovered the pay packet missing. ‘How could you?’ she sobbed.
‘I’ve got my own debts to pay, you’ve got no idea . . .’ he said, looking sad.
‘Don’t take any notice of him,’ Milly shouted.
‘And as the head of this household, I say what happens to the money,’ he snapped, digging deep for some bravery, although he still could not meet Ruby’s eyes or tell her the truth. He couldn’t do that to her.
Milly swore loudly and picked up the brown earthenware teapot, which was sitting in the middle of the table among dirty cups and saucers. ‘I used to think you was a decent sort, but now I know I was wrong. No one does this to a daughter of mine,’ she shouted before swinging the teapot high and bringing it down on the side of his head. With a grunt, Eddie slumped into the chair before rolling onto the floor, his head covered in cold tea stained with blood. Around him, chunks of broken teapot were scattered on Ruby’s best rag rug.
‘Oh, God – I think I’ve killed him!’ Milly cried, before falling into a dead faint beside her son-in-law.
5
Ruby froze, staring down at her mother and husband lying on the floor, struggling to absorb what had just happened. ‘Mum? Eddie?’ she whispered, putting her hands to her face to hide the scene in front of her. She would have to do something – but what? Before she could take a step towards them there was a loud banging on the front door, followed by George shouting through the letter box for his mum to let him in.
Closing the door to the living room, she hurried along the hall and pulled open the front door. George was excitedly jumping up and down. Standing behind him were two of Stella’s sons.
Frank looked at Ruby’s stricken face as she glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Donald, why don’t you take George into the front room for a little while?’ he said, giving him a wink. ‘I think Mrs Caselton needs my help.’
Donald looked between his brother and Ruby, and could see at once that something was amiss. ‘Come on, Georgie boy, let’s do some more drawing,’ he said, holding out the paper and pencils he’d brought with him.
‘Can I, Mummy?’
‘Of course, love. You run along while I speak to Frank.’
‘What’s wrong, Ruby? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,’ Frank said, reaching for her elbow and moving her away from the front room while the two boys settled themselves on the floor, laying out sheets of paper between them. ‘They’ll be fine. Dad brought home a pile of paper he was given down at the dock. A packing case had split open on its way to the printer’s and Dad knew the kids would like it for drawing paper. There’s a lot more over at home, if Georgie wants it. Mum said to check with you first . . .’ He watched Ruby closely. She looked a million miles away as she gazed into the distance. ‘Ruby?’
‘Oh, yes, that’s very kind. I’ll thank her when I next see her,’ she replied, again glancing over her shoulder.
‘What’s going on, Ruby? Has something happened?’
Ruby nodded her head as she started to cry silently. ‘I think my mum’s killed Eddie, then she dropped down dead.’
Frank started to laugh, then realized Ruby wasn’t joking. ‘You’re not kidding me – are you?’
‘No,’ she replied, pushing open the living room door. ‘It had only just happened when you knocked. Please, can you help them?’
Frank rushed to where Milly lay and bent down beside her. ‘Mrs Tomkins? Can you hear me?’ he asked as he put his hand to her chest. ‘Does she have a bad heart? I recall her mentioning it to Mum.’
‘She has flutters sometimes, but the doctor told her it was nothing serious. Can you feel a heartbeat?’ Ruby chewed her fingernail anxiously. ‘There’s so much blood; they must both be dead. She gave Eddie such a belter with the teapot.’
‘Her heartbeat is nice and strong. I think she’s just fainted from the shock, but at her age we need to make sure she’s all right. Can you get me a cup of water?’ He moved over to Eddie, who had started to groan. ‘And at least he’s not dead, so your mum won’t be done for murder.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Ruby rushed back to kneel beside Milly and place the cup to her lips. ‘Here, Mum, take a sip,’ she said before Frank pushed her hand away.
‘No, not while she’s out cold. She could choke. Splash her face – it may help bring her round quicker.’
Ruby nodded and started to pat the cold water around Milly’s cheeks. ‘Come on, Mum. Let’s be having you. There’s no point in lying on the hard floor, now, is there?’ she chided. ‘Wake yourself up and we can have a nice cuppa. I brought some pies and buns home from the cafe. I bet you’d like some of them, wouldn’t you?’
Milly fluttered her eyelids and gave Ruby a puzzled look. ‘Why am I laying on the floor?’
‘You had a bit of a funny turn, Mum. We’ll have you on your feet in a tick. Just tell me when you’re ready for us to help you up.’ She stroked Milly’s grey hair back from her face, where it had escaped from a tortoiseshell clip.
‘Give me a minute,’ Milly muttered, wincing a little. ‘My ankle feels funny,’ she said. ‘Do you think it’s broken?’
In spite of the situation, Ruby smiled. She was so relieved her mum wasn’t dead, but all the same, she knew how much Milly enjoyed bad health. ‘Perhaps we can have the doctor check you over later, if you can’t walk on it.’ She carried on chatting to her mum while Frank was seeing to Eddie, who was groaning and starting to swear loudly.
‘What the bloody hell happened? Who thumped me?’ he asked as he put his hand to his head, looking startled when he saw the blood.
‘You’re not badly injured, Eddie.’ Frank helped him to his feet and back onto the chair he’d vacated suddenly when his mother-in-law walloped him with the teapot.
‘What’s she doing down there? And why is there all this bloody mess?’ Eddie gestured around the chaotic room as Frank took a closer look at the gash on the side of his head.
‘Mum fell into a faint, and you tried to catch her but hit your head on the teapot she was holding,’ Ruby explained. ‘You are a little unsteady on your feet due to the drink. I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to make a brew until I can afford another one,’ she added for effect. She knew Eddie wouldn’t be interested in what she made the tea in, as long as there was a hot drink on the table with his meals.
Frank looked at her and grinned. He was surprised at Ruby’s words, but understood she was defending her mother and putting the blame back on Eddie. From the smell on Eddie’s breath and his unsteady movements, he could tell the man had a belly full of booze. What Frank didn’t understand was why a decent woman like Ruby Caselton stayed with a bloke like Eddie. He’d spent a good few hours sitting by her bed as she regained her strength after losing the baby, at first reading to her when she was still weak, and then chatting about this and that. He’d found her keen to ask questions when he mentioned his work and his interests. He knew that if he was ever to give in to his mum’s insistent nudging and find himself a wife, it would be someone like Ruby Caselton – but that was unlikely to happen. Women like her didn’t come around too often. He knew he’d be lucky to find such a person. Until he did find his way in life, he’d be the best friend he could to the woman. She’d not had a good time of late, from what his mum had said, and had been through a lot considering she was a year younger than him. Yes, he’d do his best to make her smile and make her life better. Ruby looked so pretty when she smiled; her eyes lit up, and there was a sparkle about her, he thought to himself.
‘Frank?’
He jumped at his name and saw that Ruby was holding out a damp cloth. ‘Thanks,’ he said as he took the cloth and held it to Eddie’s head. ‘I was miles away for a minute there.’
‘Probably dreaming about your girl,’ Ruby said, as she started to clear up the broken crockery.
‘You could be right,’
he grinned, wishing life were that simple.
‘You’re up bright and early,’ Stella said as Ruby opened the door to her. ‘I was going to leave this on the doorstep and pop a note through the letter box to let you know it was here.’ She held out a teapot that almost matched the one that had been smashed the night before. ‘It’s got a small crack in the lid, but you’re welcome to have it. I have another and it’s no good to anyone sitting in the back of my cupboard. I don’t want it back,’ she said quickly, knowing that Ruby didn’t like charity.
‘Come in and I’ll put it to good use right now,’ Ruby said, as she removed the white apron that all but covered her dress. ‘Everyone’s still in bed so I had a bit of peace and quiet and I got the washing done early before that nosy old bat from next door stuck her oar in and told me off for hanging washing out on the Sabbath. If she lived my life, she’d really have something to complain about,’ she sighed as they went through to the kitchen.
‘You have been busy,’ Stella said, looking out of the back door to where a line of washing was flapping in the warm breeze. ‘How did you manage to do your sheets while the family are still in their beds?’
Ruby chuckled as she put the kettle onto the hob. ‘I wondered how I would do it, but last night while mum and Eddie were down here, I shot upstairs and changed the bed sheets. I didn’t want them holding up my wash day.’ Ruby didn’t add that she was glad she had her decent sheets on the line for Stella to see. The ones on their beds had worn that thin she’d cut them down the middle and stitched the sides together, making them last a little longer. It was a trick her mum had taught her years ago when, as she often said, they didn’t have a pot to piss in. Ruby grew up knowing how to make the best of something, and that included her few possessions as well as what life had thrown at her. It had only been recently, after losing Sarah, that she’d felt weak and nigh on unable to cope. ‘Now, if that miserable old woman next door starts on her moaning again, I’ll not care as in another couple of hours everything will be dry and on the clothes airer waiting for me to give it a good iron. Tell me, why is an old woman living in one of these houses on her own?’ she asked as she sat opposite Stella at the table.
‘Ah, when she moved here it was with her father. Yes, it’s hard to believe someone her age still had a living parent three years ago. He was heavily involved with the local Baptist church and Miss Hunter seems to have carried the baton.’
‘Blimey,’ Ruby laughed. ‘Her life must be full of fun. I take it she never married?’
‘From what I was told by someone who lives further up the road and went to school with her, she had plenty of admirers as a youngster. At some point she went away to live with an elderly aunt as her companion. She came back to the area to help her father, then they moved into number fifteen when the houses were built. I vaguely recall people going into the house for Bible meetings, and there was many a Sunday evening we could hear hymns being sung to the accompaniment of Miss Hunter playing the piano. These days no one visits the house since he passed away, and Miss Hunter instead visits the Baptist church. I would think she’s well into her seventies, so her father must have been close to one hundred years of age when he passed.’
‘They sound a barrel of laughs, but each to their own. Goodness knows what they’d have thought of my Eddie rolling home from the pub at all hours the worse for wear. One disapproving neighbour I can handle. Her father as well would have had me turning to the gin.’
‘Me and my brood were invited to their prayer meetings, but they soon gave up when I told them we’re Roman Catholic.’
‘Are you really?’
‘No, but a little lie never hurt anyone. I did start receiving flowery cards with verses from the Bible etched on them. I posted them back through their letter box. You’d be best to be civil to the woman rather than make an enemy of her. The people that go to that church can be rather pious and may just make your life uncomfortable.’
‘Does she have any friends? It must be awful to get to that age and not be surrounded by people who care.’
Stella shrugged her shoulders. ‘She’s not one for a cup of tea and a natter, if that’s what you mean. Then again, she may be happy doing her Christian duty. As you say, each to their own. Speaking of which, my Frank told me what happened over here last night. I wanted to ask if there’s anything I can help with?’
‘The loan of your teapot is more than enough. I’m very grateful,’ Ruby said, turning away so that Stella didn’t see the sadness in her eyes.
‘You know you can talk to me and it will go no further. I can tell your Eddie is at the bottom of this.’
Ruby gave a bitter laugh. ‘Isn’t he always?’
‘I’m a patient listener,’ Stella said. ‘Why don’t we fill that teapot and have a good chat?’
Ruby left Stella with her tea and popped out into the back garden to check the washing on the line. It was strung from the back of the house to a pole at the end of the garden. A wooden prop she’d found lying in the grass was ideal for holding up the line halfway down, where it tended to sag under the weight of the washing. She unpegged a couple of items that were already dry and threw them over her shoulder as she checked the rest. Ruby kept the hanging sheets between her and the garden next door, just in case Miss Hunter was already up and about. She didn’t feel like a barney this early in the morning. Hurrying back inside, she put the few dry items over a wooden clothes horse she’d found in the cupboard under the stairs. She blessed the day she’d moved to this house, as she’d never in her life had so many pieces of furniture along with bits and bobs for the kitchen. Ruby loved this little house in Erith and could gladly live out her days here. She smiled to herself as she sat back down at the table.
‘That’s a lovely smile, what put that on your face?’
‘I was thinking how I could live out my days here in Alexandra Road. I’ll hang on to this house until my dying breath, Eddie or no Eddie.’
‘That’s fighting talk if ever I heard it,’ Stella said as she topped up her cup.
Ruby picked up a teaspoon and stirred the tea thoughtfully. ‘At the moment I feel as though I don’t know the man I married. Eddie is a bit older than me, and he knew a lot more about life when we got hitched. I was expecting our George when we walked down the aisle. I was forced into marrying him in that sense, but I truly loved him. He courted me, gave me little trinkets and spoke of his dreams for the future. Six years ago, he was a man who other women fluttered their eyelashes at. I was considered a lucky girl. My heart skipped a beat every time he said my name. But the more he worked for Cedric Mulligan, the more he changed.’
Stella, who had been listening without interrupting Ruby, frowned. ‘I know that name from somewhere.’
‘Eddie fell in with him while we lived in the Woolwich area. He would do odd jobs for the man, and I honestly thought it was all innocent. I had no reason to question my husband at that time. Gradually his drinking became worse, and he didn’t always bring money home at the end of the week. From the nice rooms we first rented that I’d tried to make into a lovely home, to others where we had to move at the dead of night before the landlord came knocking. Four times this happened and each time the rooms became fewer and smaller, and we moved closer to the unpleasant side of town. I feared going out on my own with a young child. My mother moved in with us, but for me it was an added burden. By then I knew that not everything Eddie did was above board. He would collect debts that were owed to Cedric. He also got to know the runners in the pubs who took bets on horse races. A few pennies bet on a nag became shillings, and the more money he lost the blacker his moods became. The Eddie you know – it’s not the man I first knew. And after last night, I’m at a crossroads in my life.’
Stella could have cried for the young woman opposite her. In the little time she’d known Ruby Caselton, she had found her to be a responsible and intelligent person. Since moving to Alexandra Road, Stella hadn’t found a neighbour she felt she could talk to. So when Ruby collapsed
at her feet that day, it was as if someone up there had handed her a friend. There was an age difference, so in some ways Ruby was the daughter she’d never had. Add to that, her gorgeous little boy George was almost like a grandson. With three sons, Stella felt at times that she lacked female company. By now she’d hoped her eldest son, Frank, would have been courting, but so far he’d not had a serious lady friend. However, she had noticed the way he watched Ruby and how much time he’d had for her when she was ill. In an ideal world, she could see her Frank and Ruby setting up home at number thirteen. There would be no drunken husband or interfering mother, just Frank, Ruby, a new baby, and young George.
She shook her head to clear her preposterous thoughts. Daydreaming could be dangerous. Instead she would be the best friend she could to Ruby, and at the moment that was clearly what Ruby needed the most. She sipped her tea, then cleared her throat, as what she was about to say made her nervous. ‘Ruby, do you think perhaps it would be best if Eddie was no longer in your life?’
Ruby nodded her head in agreement. ‘I do. It sounds bad of me to say so, but to be truthful, me, Mum and George could bump along quite happily here on our own. As long as Mum could bring in a bit of money and Marge was able to keep giving me a week’s work, we’d be able to keep our heads above water. However, I made my vows in church to love, honour and obey my husband. I may not believe in all that church nonsense, but I do believe there is someone good looking over us, and to break such a promise is a sin.’
‘I do agree with you on that,’ Stella said, reaching for the teapot to check if she could squeeze out another cup for them both. But Ruby put her hand over her cup, as she was full up. ‘I do wonder, though, if it is a sin to move on from a bad marriage, rather than being miserable for the rest of your life? Perhaps you should ask yourself how many days of the week you are truly happy living with Eddie, putting up with his failures and his drunkenness as you do?’
Ruby thought for a moment. ‘I’d never really thought about it. Two, possibly three days . . . There again, other weeks, if he’s flush with money he’ll come home merry, if not drunk.’
A Mother Forever Page 8
