by Anna King
At that moment Bernard lifted his glass of port and raised it in her direction. The unexpected action brought a lump to Ruby’s throat. He looked so happy, so proud. How could she spoil the evening for him by telling him she was leaving the house to find work, to make a life of her own, a life that would no longer include him? But she must; she couldn’t change her mind now, not after confiding in Dr Benson and extracting his promise to intercede on her behalf. When she was sure her father was no longer watching her, she began to study him. He was still handsome, despite his 48 years, and although the once lean frame had filled out, there wasn’t an ounce of spare fat on his body. The only concession to the years was a sprinkling of grey in his dark hair and the neat moustache that now adorned his upper lip. Her eyes softened. It was hard to believe that this same man had once ruled them all with a rod of iron.
Turning her eyes from him, she looked at her mother, and felt a thrill of pride run through her body. The black satin dress she was wearing suited her to perfection, as did the string of gleaming pearls round her bare neck. Unlike her dad, no grey had yet invaded the mass of shiny black hair that was piled softly round the crown of her head.
A touch on her arm brought her rudely from her reverie. ‘Ruby, are you unwell? You look flushed.’
She reluctantly returned her attention to the woman sitting beside her, and replied, ‘I’m quite well, thank you, although it is a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?’ while thinking, ‘What is the woman’s name?’
‘Yes, yes, I was thinking that myself. Would you be so kind as to ask one of the maids to show me to the ladies’ room. I would like to wash my hands.’
‘Of course,’ Ruby answered, raising her hand in the direction of Mary, who immediately came to her side. ‘Mary, would you show Mrs… um, Mrs… er…’ Oh, Lord, this was embarrassing!
Bertie, who had been listening to the exchange with amusement, decided to come to Ruby’s rescue. Leaning over the table, he said gaily, ‘You must forgive my sister, Mrs Stacey. She has an appalling memory for names.’
Ruby glared at him. He could have phrased it in a better way! Turning from his smiling face she said sweetly, ‘Do forgive me, Mrs Stacey, and take no notice of my dear brother. His favourite pastime is in teasing me.’ Then, addressing Mary, she said, ‘Show Mrs Stacey to the ladies’ cloakroom, Mary, she wishes to wash her hands.’
When the woman had left the table, Ruby turned on Bertie. ‘Did you have to show me up like that? You could have found an easier way to tell me her name instead of embarrassing me.’
Bertie threw back his head and laughed loudly. ‘Embarrass you, Ruby, impossible! The only person embarrassed was Mrs Stacey. “Wash her hands”, indeed! Why can’t women just say they need to use the lavatory. We all have to, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
Still angry with him, Ruby relied stiffly, ‘Ladies don’t refer to such matters in male company. There is such a thing as etiquette.’
Bertie stared at her in amazement, for this wasn’t the Ruby he knew and loved. She was on her high horse, and no mistake. ‘Etiquette’, for God’s sake! She was the last person to worry about the social refinements of life. Stifling the desire to laugh again, he took her trembling hands. ‘What is it, Ruby? What’s up? And don’t insult my intelligence by saying nothing’s wrong, I know you too well. Have you had a row with Lily? Is that it? Is that why you said you’d talk to her later?’ When Ruby remained silent, he pulled his chair out from under the table and moved closer to her, much to the chagrin of the young Vanessa, who was now looking very put out at being ignored. ‘Look, Ruby, we’ve never had any secrets, have we? So come on, spill the beans before that old trout comes back,’ he whispered urgently.
Ruby wavered for a moment. She would rather have waited until Dr Benson had had a chance to talk to her dad, but the desire to tell Bertie her plans was too strong. Turning to face him, she said simply, ‘I’m going to leave home and get a job.’
If she had announced she was going to run off with the coalman, Bertie couldn’t have been more stunned. Surprised, no. He had always known that one day she would tire of the dullness and inactivity of her life, but not yet; she’d just turned 18, and where would she go, what would she do? Looking at her set face, he felt the first stirrings of fear run up his spine. He had seen that same look many times, and if he attempted to dissuade her by pointing out the obvious, she would only shut him out completely. So, jerking his head in the direction of Bernard, he said quietly, ‘He’ll never agree.’
With a confidence she was far from feeling, Ruby lifted her head and said firmly, ‘Dr Benson agrees that I should have my independence, and he’s going to have a word with Dad when the other guests have left. Besides, you’re too hard on him. I know he was strict with us when we were children, but he’s changed. He’s much kinder now, he’ll understand.’
Bertie closed his eyes in disbelief. Surely she didn’t think their father would let her leave this house without argument, and as for him changing his ways… ‘Huh!’
Seeing the expression on his face, Ruby said earnestly, ‘He has changed, Bertie. He’s nowhere near as strict as he used to be.’
‘Maybe not to you, but he’s still wielding the whip as far as George and I are concerned.’ Bertie’s face became grim and bitter, forcing her to look away, but she couldn’t shut out his words. ‘Have you forgotten the uproar when I announced my decision to join the police? How he ranted and raved like a madman? He would have thrown me out onto the streets but for Mother intervening on my behalf. Even now, I have to creep in and out of the house like a common criminal because the sight of my uniform both infuriates and shames him!’
‘He worries about you, Bertie. We all do,’ Ruby whispered lamely.
‘Rubbish! He doesn’t care a fig about me. And what about George, forced into a job he hates just to keep the old man happy? Oh, he’s never said anything, but then George wouldn’t. He’ll always be content to let someone run his life for him. I only hope for his sake he marries a strong-minded woman; he’d be as helpless as a child without someone to make his decisions for him. He’s not like us, he doesn’t have our strength of character…’ Too late he realised what he’d said, no and when he saw the triumphant smile light up Ruby’s face, his heart sank.
‘You’re right, Bertie. George is weak, but we’re not. We’ll always get what we want because we’re prepared to fight for the right to live our own lives. You’ve already fought your battle, and won. My fight is just beginning.’ Clasping his hand, she said urgently, ‘Help me, Bertie? Come with me when I face Father.’
The fact that she had used the term ‘Father’ conveyed to Bertie the extent of her feelings. For as long as he could remember Ruby had always referred to their parents as ‘Mum and Dad’, and this familiarity was just another example of how she differed from George and himself. He could no more think of calling his father ‘Dad’ than he could of addressing the queen as ‘Vicky’. Not that he was ever likely to meet that grand lady, but the thought was the same. He felt Ruby increase the pressure on his hand and shifted in his chair uncomfortably; then, without raising his head, he muttered thickly, ‘I’m sorry, Ruby, I can’t.’
He felt her loosen her grip on his hand and tentatively raised his eyes to look at her, but such was the look of hurt and accusation she gave him that he was compelled to bow his head once more. It was with great relief that he saw Mrs Stacey bearing down on them and quickly took the opportunity to return his attention to the waiting Vanessa.
He listened with only half an ear to the girl’s ramblings while his mind continued to mull over Ruby’s startling revelations, his active brain already formulating a plan to escape from the house as soon as the party was over. He didn’t want to be around when his father heard the news from Dr Benson. Contrary to Ruby’s insistence that their father had mellowed, he knew differently. He wondered if her opinion of her ‘dad’, as she called him, would change if she were ever to find out the truth about Lady and how Bernard
had beaten the unfortunate horse so severely she had had to be put down. But, wait a minute, he must be fair: his father had been half out of his mind with grief when he had laid into Lady with the riding-whip. Any man would have reacted likewise in similar circumstances.
Bertie could still remember vividly that day they had returned from the hospital and had watched with tears in their young, bewildered, eyes as their strong and capable father had stumbled from the room like a man twice his age. It was then that their mother had sat them down gently and elicited a promise that they would never tell Ruby what had happened to her beloved horse. They must stand by the story that both Lady and Nobby had been taken to a farm in the country because they could no longer afford to keep them. She had stressed the importance of keeping to this story, and had apologised for making them accessories to a lie. Then she had added, sadly, that it would be only half a lie, because their father would probably send Nobby away as soon as possible. After what had happened, for quite some time he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of any horse being dependent on him. Bertie remembered also how Ruby’s eyes had clouded over when their mother had repeated this lie in their presence before turning her back on the three of them to stare fixedly out of the window of her new bedroom; she had never mentioned Lady again. Shrugging his shoulders impatiently, he glanced over at the mantelpiece to the gold and marble clock that rested grandly on the wide ledge. Nine-thirty. Good! With any luck, the party would break up soon, and the moment the last guest had left the house he intended to grab George and make for the nearest pub. Brushing aside his feelings of guilt and shame, he gave a bewildered-looking George a broad wink and moved closer to Vanessa.
* * *
‘Goodnight, and thank you for coming,’ Ruby said pleasantly to Mr and Mrs Stacey and the simpering Vanessa, her jaws aching from the effort to keep the smile on her tired face. The Staceys were the last guests to leave, and Ruby, her duties over, left her parents to see them to their coaches and limped tiredly along the hall to the parlour where Dr Benson and his wife were waiting for her. They looked up as she entered the room, and Ruby was quick to see the look that passed between them. Sinking into a soft leather chair, she waited for a moment before Mrs Benson spoke.
‘Are you absolutely sure about this, Ruby?’ Her face was full of concern as she bent towards her.
Ruby gazed softly into the kind face, and then in a clear voice she answered, ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.’
The determination in her voice brought Dr Benson to his feet. Crossing the short space that separated them, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder. ‘Fair enough, my dear, fair enough. I’ll do what I can, but it won’t be easy. No, it won’t be easy,’ he repeated thoughtfully.
Ruby flashed him a grateful smile, then turned to the doorway as Bernard and Daisy entered the room arm in arm.
‘Well, I think everything went off very well. Very well indeed,’ Bernard said heartily. Then, disengaging himself from Daisy, he walked jauntily to the sideboard, calling over his shoulder, ‘A glass of brandy, William?’
‘Thank you, Bernard, that would be most welcome.’
Picking up the heavy glass decanter, Bernard poured out two liberal helpings, then, handing one of the glasses to Dr Benson, he addressed the ladies. ‘And what can I get you, ladies? A glass of wine, or maybe you’d prefer port?’
‘A drop of port would do nicely, thank you, Bernard,’ Mrs Benson answered, her eyes moving to her husband, who was standing awkwardly by her side.
‘I’ll have a glass of wine, please, Dad. What about you, Mum?’
Daisy looked at Ruby sharply. There was something going on here that didn’t include her. She had noticed the air of tension as soon as she’d entered the room. And now, looking at Ruby’s flushed face and hearing the brightness of her voice, her eyes narrowed as she wondered what her daughter was up to. It was also evident that the Bensons knew what was going on, and she experienced a sharp feeling of hurt at being excluded from the secret the three of them were sharing.
Her suspicions were confirmed when, some minutes later, William first looked at his wife and then at Ruby, and then said, ‘Could I have a word, Bernard? In private.’
Bernard looked at his old friend in surprise before answering, ‘Of course, William. We’ll take our drinks into the library. If you’ll excuse us, ladies.’
When the door had closed behind the two men, Daisy walked swiftly to the sideboard and replenished her drink. Then, her fingers plucking nervously at the fold in her dress, she said sharply, ‘What’s going on, Ruby?’
Ruby’s head jerked back on her shoulders. She was now wishing wholeheartedly that she had confided in her mum. It was going to be bad enough telling her why Dr Benson had asked to speak to her dad without confessing that she had gone to the Bensons with her troubles instead of to her own mother. Added to which, she had also told Lily and Bertie. Cursing herself for her thoughtlessness, she faced a now grim Daisy and said between trembling lips, ‘I’m sorry, Mum, really I am,’ and then, drawing in a deep breath, she told her.
* * *
‘She wants to do what?’ Bernard roared, his face stretched wide in disbelief.
‘Now, Bernard, calm yourself, it’s not as bad as it would first appear.’
‘Not as bad as it appears?’ Bernard rose from his chair and began to pace up and down, his hands clasped firmly behind his back, then spinning round on his heel, he shouted, ‘You tell me that my 18-year-old daughter wishes to leave home and find work. You also add that she speaks nostalgically of her old home in the East End, a home I might add I spent years trying to get my family away from… and you tell me to keep calm? How do you expect me to react? Did you imagine I’d beam with delight, call Ruby in here and say fondly, “I understand you want to find employment, preferably among the people you grew up with. Here’s £200, go and open a soup kitchen in Whitechapel, and I hope you’ll be very happy?” Pshaw!’
William looked at his friend’s angry face, and sighed. Well, as he’d told Ruby, it wasn’t going to be easy.
‘Bernard, please, come and sit down. I have an idea that might solve the problem for all concerned. Please, Bernard, I beg you, sit down and listen,’ William pleaded, fearful that he would rush from the room and confront an already nervous Ruby. He held his breath as Bernard, his body taut with anger and hurt, fought silently with his confused emotions before dropping heavily into the chair opposite him. William heaved a sigh of relief, then, leaning forward in his chair, he began to speak. ‘I’ve been expecting something like this to happen. Ruby is a very strong-minded young woman; moreover, she is fiercely independent, and that being the case, she will never be happy unless she can prove to herself that she’s useful, that despite her disability she can and will live a normal life. It’s very important to her, Bernard, and unless you agree to her wishes, you may wake up one morning and find her gone.’
As Bernard listened to William, he felt a great tiredness steal over him. The man was right, of course. He had always known that one day Ruby would leave, but had secretly hoped that her handicap would bind her to him forever. Her disability had only strengthened her resolve to prove to herself and others that she was not prepared to be dependent all her life, and secretly he admired her for her fortitude and felt some small measure of relief that the need for subterfuge was at an end.
‘What do you suggest, William?’ he asked.
William heard the note of resignation and defeat in Bernard’s voice, and was reminded of that day long ago when he had been forced to impart bad news. Briskly now he began to talk. ‘I’ve been giving the matter a great deal of thought all evening, and as I’ve already said, I think I may have the answer. There is a patient of mine, Lady Caldworthy, who is looking for a companion, and what I suggest is that Ruby applies for the post. Her duties won’t entail any strenuous work, merely reading to the old lady and writing letters for her. In general, she would be just what the position implies: a companion.
Also she wouldn’t be too far from home, as the house where she’ll be working is in Islington. Not that she’d be able to pop home any time she feels like it, because if she agrees to this idea I shall make it quite clear that she will be treated like any other young woman in the role of companion. Her days or afternoons off will be decided by Lady Caldworthy; there will be no question of her receiving special treatment. I must also mention that the lady in question is quite a formidable character and has had numerous companions, none of whom has lasted longer than a month, but I’m confident that Ruby will be able to handle her. Don’t you see, Bernard? Ruby will get her wish – she’ll be working for a living, she’ll have her independence – and at the same time you and Daisy can rest assured that she’s safe and sound. And, as Lady Caldworthy’s physician, I’ll be able to keep an eye on Ruby when I make my visits. Well, what do you say?’
Bernard’s mind was working furiously. He would be perfectly within his rights as a father to forbid Ruby to leave home until she came of age, but that was not for another three years, and knowing his daughter as he did, he was forced to admit that William was right. If Ruby didn’t get her own way, she would simply vanish one day. Furthermore, if she left in anger, it could be years before he saw her again, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that.
‘Does Ruby know about this patient of yours requiring a companion?’ The question was barked at William.
William drew himself up in his chair, and with quiet dignity replied, ‘Of course not. No plans have been made behind your back, Bernard. You should know me well enough to know I would never do anything underhand. As I’ve already explained, I only suspected what Ruby was thinking, and was completely unaware she was planning to leave home until a few hours ago when she asked me to talk to you. That’s all I promised her: that I would talk to you.’
