George looked a little embarrassed. ‘We met about a year ago. She worked with Maureen and came along with her to a dance down at Vickers – it was at the Rodney hut.’
Ruby had heard about the hut, and always thought it a strange name, considering it was more of a dance hall and meeting place. It had been donated by someone called Lady Rodney, in memory of her son. George liked to go there for the dances and educational lectures, but she’d had no idea he had his eye on a girl all this time. ‘So it’s serious with you and this Irene, is it?’
‘I like her a lot, Mum,’ he said, turning pink-cheeked.
‘I can see that. But then, I thought you were soft on Maureen a while back?’
‘She’s just a friend, nothing more.’
Ruby thought for a while as she dropped dumplings into the stew. ‘And how does Irene feel about you joining up?’
‘She knows it will happen for all of us lads when we’re eighteen, and I reach that age in January. I’ll get called up anyway. Irene believes I’ll be an officer before too long.’
Oh, does she? Ruby thought to herself. She certainly didn’t like this little madam who seemed to have stolen her son’s heart.
As she poured boiling water onto the tea leaves in the pot, she took a deep breath before breaking the news of Donald’s death to her son. ‘George, I’ve got some bad news. Stella received a telegram this afternoon. It’s Donald . . .’
George turned pale. ‘Has he been injured?’ he asked hopefully.
‘No, love, he was killed. We don’t have any other details at the moment. I wondered if you’d pop over and have a word with Stella and Wilf. As you can imagine, they are beside themselves with grief. Frank is with them at the moment.’
George nodded, unable to speak for a moment. ‘He’s the third person I’ve known to have been killed in this war,’ he said, his voice no more than a whisper. Ruby held out her arms and enveloped her son, wishing she could hold him close and safe forever.
‘You’re never too old for a cuddle, George, always remember that.’
‘I will, Mum, and I’m sorry . . .’
‘Whatever for?’ she asked, noticing that he was blinking back tears.
‘Going on about joining up, with you standing there knowing about Donald.’
‘There is no need to apologize. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. I won’t be the first mother who’s worried about a son. I feel we’re going to lose many more loved ones before this is all over. You know I’m not one for religion, and never have been, but even I say my prayers before I go to sleep at night. It’s only been weeks since the Luck family up the road heard about their Edward. By all accounts he’s buried over in France – it’s not as if they can even pay their respects.’ She shook her head sorrowfully.
‘Don’t forget Tom Crispin two years back – and John Smart not long afterwards, drowned at sea. That’s just people in this road.’
‘And now we can add young Donald to the list.’ Ruby’s voice started to wobble as she embraced her son again. ‘Just promise me this, George: you must be careful. I don’t want your name added to a list of dead lads from Alexandra Road – do you hear me?’
‘I hear you, Mum,’ he answered, his voice as shaky as hers. ‘I wouldn’t dare let you down.’
‘Right, let’s get this tea in to the girls before they wonder what we’re up to. Do you think they’ll stay for dinner?’
‘What have we got in the stew?’ he asked, peering into the pan.
‘I’ve made a nice mutton stew. I’ve only to add a few more dumplings in the pan. I suppose you’d like two – one each for the girls?’
‘I don’t think Irene likes stew. Besides, they’re going to Maureen’s. We only popped in for a cuppa before I walk them round the road. But saying that, you want me to pop over and pay my respects to the Greens, so I’ll come straight back. Can you put some dinner by for me? By the way, where is our Pat?’
‘She’s gone to her first Brownie meeting. I know she’s a bit young for it, but with the girls she plays with down the road already attending, and the Brown Owl agreeing, I decided she could join in. It won’t hurt as she’ll have a bit of fun for a few hours, and it will take her mind off this war. Since she saw that Zeppelin going overhead, she can’t think of anything else. A couple of hours of playing and such like will cheer her up. I’ll need to pick her up from the Mission hall at Northend in three quarters of an hour.’
George took the tea tray. ‘Why don’t I pick her up after I’ve dropped the girls at Maureen’s? I’m halfway there anyway. It’ll give you time to put your feet up for a bit – you look worn out.’
Ruby gave him another a hug. ‘You’re a good lad.’
‘Steady on, Mother, I nearly dropped the tray,’ he grinned before pecking her on the cheek and giving her a wink.
‘You’ll always be my baby boy,’ Ruby smiled, although her heart felt heavy.
After saying goodbye to George and the girls, Ruby settled down with her knitting. Her head was full of the men who had died, as well as those she knew who were still serving overseas. She’d stopped reading the newspapers so much, and since Frank’s good friend Stephen was living over the bookshop and helping out most days, she only popped round to work there part-time. Now that she didn’t have to find the rent money each week, and George was giving her a little towards the housekeeping, the pressure was off her shoulders to bring in a proper wage. Frank would treat her and Pat to gifts of food, as number thirteen was still as much his home as it was Stephen’s, who was a welcome guest. To the outside world, Frank still lived with them. If Frank’s parents thought the set-up at the bookshop was strange, they never commented.
Placing her knitting beside her chair, she again reached for her box of memories and pulled out Eddie’s last letter. He’d not mentioned anything about his situation, but instead told her of his sorrow at hearing of the death of Charlie Sears, the son of his landlady where he’d lodged in Arthur Street when working in the brickfields. Ruby had heard of the loss, and had broken the news to him in her previous letter. Eddie’s reply was full of memories of the way the family had looked after him. He even mentioned his work, which interested Ruby very much. Although there were a few brickfields surrounding the town, she’d known nothing of how bricks were made. She remembered Derek Green telling her how they could only make bricks during the warmer months, and wondered what Eddie had done for the rest of the year.
Ruby smiled as she re-read his words about Derek, and how the man would lecture them in the trenches about bricks to the point Eddie thought about joining the enemy trenches just to escape. There was mention of when he would be home with Ruby and their future together, and she blushed as he mentioned being alone with her. She quickly folded the letter and replaced it in the envelope. She’d put them somewhere safe in case Pat’s curious eyes came across them.
Unable to settle until she knew that her two children were back home, Ruby reached for a book. It was one that Frank had recommended to her, on which he was waiting for her opinion. Her mind wandered after she’d read the first couple of pages as she thought about German planes dropping bombs on her children while they were away from the house. She’d been astonished when she was told of the planes flying as far as London and then dropping explosives. George explained that they also dropped something called incendiaries, which caught fire and caused so much destruction and death, so when they’d first seen the Zeppelins and then later spotted an enemy plane, she’d been petrified. ‘What has the world come to?’ she muttered to herself. The public had been warned that if they should hear whistles, car horns and shouts from the police, they were to take cover, as it meant that a plane was in the area. At first Ruby was unsure where the family would hide if this happened, and worried about the safest place in the house. George said to go into the cupboard under the stairs – being surrounded by brickwork, it should give some protection if the house was affected by bombs dropping nearby. Ruby wasn’t so sure about that, and told Ge
orge in no uncertain terms that she’d rather sit in the middle of the garden – at least then she could see what was going to land on top of her, rather than hide in fear in the dark.
What had made her smile was the news that they would know it was clear to come out from hiding when they heard the Boy Scouts riding past on bicycles, blowing their whistles. As she said to Pat, what mother in their right mind would let her sons out on their bicycles at a time like that? Looking up at the clock on the mantelpiece, she noticed it was getting late. George should have collected Pat by now and been home. Perhaps she should have a look to see where they were? Pulling her coat around her shoulders, she walked out to the front gate and looked up and down Alexandra Road. Wherever had they got to? Feeling as though she was being watched, she turned to look at the bay window of next door, and there was Miss Hunter watching her. Ruby jutted her chin out in defiance and stared back at the nosy old woman. Why didn’t she mind her own business?
As she stood there wondering what to do, the door opposite opened and Frank stepped out. Catching sight of Ruby, he waved. ‘Is there something up?’ he called out.
‘George is picking Pat up from Brownies, and they should have been home by now. I’m getting worried.’
Frank hurried over the road. ‘They probably stopped to chat to somebody,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to walk up the road and look out for them? I could go as far as Britannia Bridge and wait there.’
‘There’s no need, thanks all the same, Frank. You’re probably right; George hasn’t eaten yet, although I fed Pat before she went out. I reckon she’ll be hungry again too. Why don’t you come along in and warm yourself up by the fire? I’ll give you a bowl of stew. I have a nice crusty loaf as well, if you’d like a bit of that to dip in the gravy.’
Frank rubbed his hands together. ‘Sounds good to me. Evening, Miss Hunter, how are you?’ He waved to where their neighbour was again peering round her curtain.
‘My God, that woman is nosy,’ Ruby all but swore. ‘I don’t seem to be able to do anything without her clocking what I’m up to.’
He chuckled. ‘She’s probably just a lonely old woman.’
‘Shush, Frank. You make me sound like a moaning old witch. If you were here as much as me and had her watching your every move, you’d be moaning too,’ she laughed back at him. ‘Come and warm yourself up while I get your food,’ she nagged gently.
Frank smiled and shook his head; Ruby could be such a worrier at times. That’s why I love her so much, he thought, stopping short as he thought of the word ‘love’. Yes, he did love Ruby, very much. He wanted only the best for her, just as he did for his brothers. Or should that be brother, now that Donald had died? As cut up as he was over the loss, he was more worried for his mother and father. Wilf was displaying his typical stiff upper lip, even talking about going back on the river tomorrow, but Stella sat staring into space, every now and then dissolving into sobs. This had happened several times; she would scream Donald’s name while holding herself tight, her arms wrapped round her body as she rocked back and forth in her armchair. Wilf watched helplessly, while Frank hugged his mother and soothed her tears. If she was no better in the morning, he would call the doctor to see if there was something that could be done. No one should have to suffer this much grief.
His thoughts wandered to Derek. The last Frank had heard, he had been out on the Somme somewhere. Frank took comfort in the fact that he was with Eddie Caselton and their mate Ernie Minchin. They could all watch out for each other.
‘That looks good,’ he said, rubbing his hands together as Ruby carried in the bowl of hot stew.
‘I know we should sit at the table and eat, but the fire is so nice in here, it seems more cosy on such a miserable evening. Just mind you don’t spill it on my rug,’ she cautioned him good-naturedly. ‘Will you be going back to Stephen at the shop this evening? It’s a shame you never got to go back and bring him here for his dinner.’
‘I was going to, but I think instead I’ll stay with Mum and Dad. They shouldn’t be left alone tonight. Dad seems completely lost while Mum . . . She is falling apart,’ Frank said, the words catching in his throat.
‘Oh, my poor love,’ Ruby said as she took the bowl of food from him and placed it on the floor by the hearth before hugging Frank close. ‘This bloody, bloody war. I hate it all – I’m frightened to sleep in my bed at night and I worry for the children. Who’d have thought bombs could be carried by planes and dropped on people? Monsters, these Germans are!’
‘You have to remember, we have planes dropping bombs on the enemy as well. Does that make us monsters too? There are mothers on each side of this war worrying about their sons and crying when they don’t come home. War is bad for everyone, and we need to try and stop it.’
‘How can we do that – how can we stop a war without fighting?’ Ruby asked, confused by his words.
‘By refusing to fight. I’ve been to a couple of meetings along with Stephen. It seems if we put our case across properly, they can’t make us fight.’
Ruby didn’t like what she was hearing. Although she hated the war, now that she was imagining George out there risking his life for his country, she didn’t like the thought that some men wouldn’t fight to keep him safe and make the same sacrifice he was prepared to make. But then again, she agreed with Frank’s views. She felt so confused at times. ‘Did the white feathers you’ve been given not prick your conscience?’ she asked.
‘Don’t tell me you think like those women?’ Frank asked with anger in his voice. ‘I thought you were better than that?’
‘No, you’ve got me wrong. I don’t agree with giving white feathers to men. That’s an awful thing to do. No one has the right to insist that every man signs up. All the same, Frank, don’t you want to play your part in this war?’
‘I do, I do. But I refuse to carry a gun or do anything to antagonize the enemy.’
Ruby looked hopeful. ‘Can you do that?’ she asked. ‘Surely there’s some way you can contribute?’
‘Yes – I could ask if I can work helping the injured. I know I don’t have the skills of a doctor or nurse, but perhaps they would let me carry stretchers or read to the injured . . . hold the hands of the dying. I know I can be of help if I do that.’
Ruby thought for a moment. ‘I do know that if I was injured, having someone like you hold my hand and talk to me would give me great strength. If you decide to do this, you have my blessing,’ she said, kissing his cheek before picking up his bowl of food. ‘Now, eat up before it gets cold. I do believe that’s my children I hear coming in the front door,’ she said with great relief.
Pat came rushing into the room, pulling off her scarf and gloves as she did so. ‘Guess what we saw?’
Ruby bent to unbutton her coat. ‘It must’ve been something exciting to make your cheeks glow like that. Now sit yourself down before you burst, and tell me all about it.’
Pat leapt onto the spare armchair that was set the other side of the hearth and grinned with delight. ‘We saw one of those German planes. It was flying over Slades Green – but we didn’t see it dropping any bombs,’ she added regretfully.
George’s face twitched in amusement as he joined his sister sitting on the arm of the chair. ‘The despicable child was disappointed because no one was blown up. Wherever did this bloodthirsty girl come from? Only the other day she was petrified of the Hun,’ he chuckled before noticing his mother’s concerned face. ‘It’s all right. We took cover, just in case there was more than one.’
Ruby gave a deep sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness for that – perhaps we will all get a good night’s sleep for once.’
‘Mummy, Uncle Frank – did you know that people sleep in train stations in London? Why do they do that?’
Frank wiped a piece of bread around the bowl, collecting some gravy as he spoke. ‘They go to the stations where the platforms are underground. That way, if a bomb drops, most of them will be safe.’
‘It’s a shame we don’t ha
ve any stations like that in Erith, isn’t it?’ Pat replied.
‘I told you, you’ll be safe if you sit in the cupboard under the stairs,’ George explained. ‘It is the safest place in the house.’
‘Unless the bomb explodes as it lands on the roof, or comes down the chimney,’ she said making a bloodthirsty noise.
‘Oh, you disgusting child,’ George said as he started to tickle her until she cried out for Ruby to rescue her.
‘Come on, you two, let me get you some food. And you can sit at the table,’ she said as Pat started to whine. ‘No, you’re not eating in here. I can’t trust you not to spill your food.’ She gave Frank a little nod as she spoke, indicating that he’d spilt gravy down his tie.
‘When you’ve had your supper, would you like to come over with me to see your Nana Stella?’ he asked them both. ‘She is rather upset at the moment, and seeing the two of you might just cheer her up a little.’
‘That’s a splendid idea,’ Ruby said, ‘but please, don’t ask her any questions. Pat, your Nana Stella doesn’t want to talk about Donald at the moment. I want you to be a good girl and just be nice. Tell her about Brownies and school.’
Pat gave Ruby a smile. ‘I know she is very sad about Donald. I am too,’ she said, going quiet for a couple of seconds. ‘But what happens if the planes come back while you’re here on your own?’
‘I’ll go and hide in the cupboard under the stairs. I’ve put a few rugs in there, and an old pillow. There’s also a couple of candles so if we have to sit in there any length of time, we will be able to read our books if we can’t sleep,’ Ruby added, trying to be cheerful about what was quite a horrid experience.
‘But if I went over Nana Stella’s, wouldn’t it be better to get under her staircase instead?’ Pat asked.
‘Don’t worry about it, Pat. I’ll decide if that should happen,’ Frank said, pulling one of her pigtails.
Ruby was thoughtful as she dried up the plates and cutlery after Frank had left with the children. She hoped Pat wouldn’t be too inquisitive about Donald’s death. Perhaps I should’ve kept her here instead, she thought. There again, Stella needed cheering up, and what better than her favourite little girl? The two had formed a close bond, with Stella still allowing the child to call her Nana even after it was explained to her that Pat’s father was really Eddie Caselton. The relationship between Ruby and Stella was still strained; part of Stella still badly wanted Ruby and Frank to be a happily married couple, and Pat to be their offspring. She’d only ever seen Eddie as a ne’er-do-well, and couldn’t believe that Ruby loved him more than her son. She also found it strange that Frank preferred to be in rooms over the bookshop with his friend Stephen, when he had a ready-made family at number thirteen. So far the couple had managed to avoid her questions. Ruby knew it was wrong to hope as much, but perhaps with Donald’s death Stella would forget to ask about Frank’s love life for a while.
A Mother Forever Page 20
