by Anna King
Ruby stood up, her body trembling, ‘Give me a chance to talk to Dad, Mum? If I don’t have any luck, we’ll have to get Bertie well ourselves.’ Bending over the still figure, she said gently, ‘Don’t worry, Mum. We’ll sort something out, you’ll see.’ With a final reassuring pat on her mother’s hand, she walked to the library door and knocked before entering.
‘Ruby, what are you doing here?’ Bernard said in surprise, then repeating what Daisy had said earlier, he asked anxiously, ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there? Are the children all right?’
‘That’s nearly exactly what Mum said when she saw me,’ Ruby said shakily. ‘May I sit down, Dad? I have something I need to talk to you about.’
At her words Bernard stiffened, then nodding curtly, he said, ‘If it’s about your brother, you’re wasting your time. George has already tried to intercede on his behalf. He’s a grown man and should be able to sort out his own affairs without any help from me. So if that’s all you came for, I’m afraid your journey has been wasted.’
Ruby stared at the stern figure and for a moment imagined herself transported back to the days when he had had the power to frighten her, but no longer. ‘It’s no use your looking at me like that, Dad. I’m not a child any longer, so I can’t be scared into silence by a steely look. I don’t know what George told you, but I’m telling you now that if Bertie carries on as he has been for much longer, he will almost certainly lose his job. That alone would be the finish of him, because you know how much it means to him. But that’s not the worst of it. He doesn’t wash or shave any more and his home is like a pigsty. I wouldn’t have believed that Amy’s going would have affected him so badly, but it has, and I’m afraid that if he doesn’t come to his senses soon, it will be too late. Please, Dad, won’t you swallow your pride and help him?’
Bernard quelled the rising turmoil within him. Bertie ill? Why had no one told him? He knew of course about his wife leaving him, and knew also that he was having a bad time coming to terms with what had happened, but he’d had no idea that his elder son had sunk to such depths of despair. Placing his fingers on his lips, he gazed thoughtfully into space. The desire to go to him this very minute was overwhelming, but the fear of having the door slammed in his face kept him firmly seated in his chair.
Mistaking his attitude for complacency, Ruby heaved herself up, her face nearly white with anger. ‘How can you sit there with that indifferent look on your face? Bertie could be lying dead in a pool of vomit while you sit there deliberating as to whether to stir yourself or not!’ She was standing by the desk now, her hands gripping the edge tightly. ‘Good God, what kind of a father are you? If I hadn’t come crawling back you would never have taken the trouble to seek me out, and by the same token you would never have seen your grandchildren – the same grandchildren who have grown to love you. I loved you enough to humiliate myself, not knowing if you would welcome me or throw me out, and now it’s your turn to take the same risk.’ When he still didn’t answer, she leaned over the desk until their faces were nearly touching, and said bitterly, ‘Even when we were children, you never had time for us! I had to lose a leg before you showed me any warmth, and I’ll tell you something else, shall I? Bertie once told me that he thought I was lucky, can you imagine that? He thought I was lucky! He was only 13 at the time, but he said that he wished it had been he who’d had the accident, then maybe you might have shown him some affection.’
‘Stop it!’ Bernard had risen from his chair. ‘I won’t have you speaking to me in this manner! Now get out before I…’
Near to tears, Ruby banged her fist on the desk, shouting, ‘Damn it, Dad, he’s your son!’
So engrossed were they that Daisy was able to slip into the room, and they were unaware of her presence until she spoke. ‘Go to him, Bernard,’ she said tearfully, ‘before it’s too late. Make your peace with him and bring our son home.’
Bernard looked at both of the women, then, without a word, he strode past them and out of the house, slamming the door.
* * *
The tap-room was packed to bursting as Michael pushed his way through the throng. God, he needed a drink! He had gone home straight after the shop had closed and found Ruby on her way out. He’d only been in the house five minutes when they’d been at each other’s throats again. All because of that brother of hers. What in God’s name did she expect him to do if the man’s own father wouldn’t lift a finger to help his son? Jasus, but he was a hard-hearted man, that one. When he thought of his own dear father, God rest his soul, a man who would have given his last farthing to a stranger if need be, he could find it in his heart to feel pity for Bertie. His tankard clasped tightly in his hand, he looked around in the hope of spotting a familiar face, then shrugged, and leaned against the bar, his foot on the brass rail. As he sipped his beer, he wondered why this particular pub held such a fascination for him. He had come here originally to see the place where Ruby had been born, and had imagined that once his curiosity was satisfied, he would no longer have any interest in the place, but he always seemed to be drawn back. Draining his tankard, he leaned across the counter waiting for the landlord to return and replenish it. While he waited, he tried to imagine Bernard Chadwick, that high-and-mighty man of the City, working behind a bar, but found it impossible. Giving a short laugh, he reasoned with himself that as he’d never clapped eyes on the man, it wasn’t surprising. His tankard full once more, he moved away from the bar to find a seat in the densely-packed room. Brushing past one of the three-legged tables, he stopped to apologise to the man he had accidentally shoved in the back, then froze in his tracks.
God preserve and protect us, it couldn’t be! Moving swiftly away, he positioned himself in the far corner and stared in stunned amazement at the sight of Bertie Chadwick, looking no better than a common tramp, seated morosely over his half-empty mug of beer. Taking another long mouthful of his drink, he continued to stare at the dishevelled form of his brother-in-law. He had listened without interest to Ruby’s fears concerning Bertie; now, seeing him here like this, he was overcome with confusion. His first impulse was to try to help the man, but would his help be welcomed? To hell with him, it was no business of his! He’d best finish his drink and move on to another pub; but he remained staring at the hunched form. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he returned to the bar, his thoughts whirling. This could be a golden opportunity to make friends with the man he’d envied and despised for years. If he could persuade Bertie to come along home with him, it would smooth things out with Ruby. When he’d taken a long swig from his third mug of beer, he nodded his head. He’d do it – he’d try to talk to the man. What had he to lose? Squaring his shoulders he strode purposefully back to the table, then once again his footsteps faltered as the pub door swung open and a tall distinguished man stepped hesitantly into the smoky crowded room. Michael felt his mouth turn dry. Even though he’d never seen Bernard Chadwick he knew, deep down in his bones, that here was Ruby’s father, and when the stranger, after scanning the room, walked slowly over to Bertie, he knew for certain. For a moment Michael experienced a terrible feeling of loss, as though he had been deprived of something precious. He felt a sudden pang of sadness as he
turned and walked back to the bar.
* * *
Bernard stopped outside the King’s Arms, his face weary. He had been in almost every public house this side of the water, and so far without success. Taking off his high hat, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. If he wasn’t in here, he would have to give up for the day and try to reach him at his home again tomorrow. Pushing open the heavy door, he stepped into the place that had once been his home, and shuddered slightly; the pub held no fond memories for him, it was just another crowded smoky pub. Worn out with fatigue, he looked into the faces, and was about to leave when he stopped and slowly turned back. His eyes focusing on the bent figure of the man seated in the middle of the room, he walked heavily towards him, his heart thumping. When he was near enough for the man to hear hi
m, he said tentatively, ‘Bertie! Dear God, Bertie, is it you?’
Bertie lifted his red-rimmed eyes and blinked twice at the tall figure standing before him. The man’s face seemed blurred to his drink-fuddled brain.
Bernard felt the room sway beneath his feet. ‘Oh, dear God, forgive me,’ he prayed silently as he looked down at the unkempt drunkard that was his son, and touching Bertie’s arm, he said, ‘Bertie, it’s me… Father.’
Bertie angrily pushed his hand away, then, as if recognising the voice from the past, he looked up again, his mind trying to focus. A look of hope passed over his face, and then in a voice filled with incredulity, he mumbled thickly, ‘Father?’
Fighting to keep control, Bernard took hold of Bertie’s arm and, using all the strength he possessed, raised him to his feet, his son’s limp arm round his shoulder. ‘Yes, it’s me, son,’ he said. ‘Let’s go home. Your mother is waiting for us.’ Holding his son tightly against his side, Bernard led Bertie from the pub.
Chapter Twenty-seven
‘Happy birthday, Mummy!’
‘Happy birthday, Mum!’
‘Oh, this is a nice surprise! Thank you,’ Ruby cried delightedly as she undid the gaily wrapped parcel.
‘Me and Florrie bought it ourselves, Mum, out of our pocket money,’ Danny said earnestly, anxious that his sacrifice would not go unnoticed. ‘But we couldn’t go to the shops by ourselves, so Aunt Lily took us yesterday while you were out.’
‘Well, I’m very grateful to you both. Oh… what a lovely scarf! It’s just what I wanted.’ She smiled as she looked down at the bright orange and purple monstrosity.
‘We picked it out ourselves,’ Florrie chipped in. ‘We wouldn’t let Aunt Lily do it.’
Ruby smiled at them fondly. ‘I’m sure you did, and I’m very proud of you both. Now, off the bed and let me get up. I still have to make the breakfast, even if it is my birthday.’
Reluctantly the children left the room, knowing that they weren’t allowed to watch their mother get dressed. They had sometimes tried to catch a glimpse of her attaching the wooden leg, but without success. They had both learned very early that she guarded her privacy, and although they yearned to discover how the wooden leg got from the wall to beneath her skirt, that secret was still a mystery.
Ruby didn’t get up immediately, but started to think about the empty place in the bed beside her. It no longer worried her when Michael didn’t come home after a night’s drinking, but it was sad to realise that even the children were becoming so used to his absences that they no longer asked where he was. Thinking of the way he had changed brought on the familiar feeling of guilt, and she threw the bedcovers back, and got up. Washed and dressed, she went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, the feeling of guilt still niggling.
It had been over a year since she’d started her dressmaking business and already had enough steady customers to warrant taking someone on to help. Rene Blanks, a young cheerful red-headed girl, had been with her for only three weeks, but was already making herself indispensable. For a long time Ruby had toyed with the idea of visiting those women who wanted items of clothing but were too busy to come to her. News of her new venture had quickly spread, and she already had a number of potential clients to call on. All in all, her future looked set, unlike that of Michael, who had been forced to sell his shop through lack of business.
‘It’s not my fault he didn’t make it work,’ she whispered to herself as she turned the sizzling bacon in the iron frying pan. ‘He should have tried harder; I would have done.’ But no, as soon as the going had got tough, he had given in without a fight. He had come to her for help, asking her to borrow £300 from her father so that he might get the business back on its feet. When she’d refused, he’d flung himself out of the house, blustering and shouting. On that occasion he hadn’t come home for four days. She sighed at the memory of that day, and the knowledge that she could have given him the money from the children’s trust fund weighed heavily.
‘Mum, is breakfast ready yet? We’ll be late for school!’ Danny called from the sitting room. Brought back to the present day, Ruby quickly dished up the bacon and eggs and carried them through to the waiting children. Half an hour later when they were dressed and ready to leave, the front door opened slowly to reveal a dishevelled Michael clutching a bunch of flowers in one hand and a large box of chocolates in the other.
‘Morning, sweetheart! Happy birthday,’ he said sheepishly.
‘Daddy, Daddy!’ the children shouted, rushing towards him, but they stopped suddenly as he backed away.
‘Not now, kids. I don’t feel very well. I’ll play with you when you get home from school.’
Ruby’s lips tightened. She had become used to being pushed away, but for him to treat the children in the same manner was unforgivable.
‘Come along, both of you, else we’ll be late,’ she said as she made to move past Michael.
‘Morning, Mrs O’Brien!’
Ruby turned quickly to see Rene about to enter the house, smiling broadly. Forcing a smile to her own lips, she said, ‘Rene, do you think you could take the children to school for me, just for today? I -I have some paperwork I’d like to see to before going out. If you don’t mind, that is?’
Rene looked at the woman who had saved her from a life of working 14 hours a day in a sweatshop. Would she mind? Lord, she’d do anything for Mrs O’Brien, she only had to ask! ‘Course I don’t mind! Come on, kids,’ she cried gaily. ‘We’ll ’ave a game of ’opscotch on the way. I’ve got me key to get back in if you want to go out, Mrs O’Brien. I’ll make a start on that green dress just as soon as I’ve got these two settled.’
‘That’ll be fine, Rene. As a matter of fact I think I’ll go to see that woman in Hackney. You know, the one who wrote to me yesterday.’
‘Mrs O’Brien, don’t you worry abaht nuffink; I’ll look after fings ’ere. You take your time.’
When the door had closed after them, Ruby rounded on Michael. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? How long is this going to go on? Coming home when you feel like it, pushing your children away because you’re too drunk to give them any attention…’ Looking at the presents he had laid on the table, she added scornfully, ‘And don’t think you can bribe me with a few flowers and a box of chocolates. It won’t wash any more! You’ve got to pull yourself together, Michael. I’m not putting up with it for much longer.’
‘Ruby, Ruby, don’t start! It’s all right for you, you’ve a good business going,’ he answered, his hand holding his brow. ‘I’m trying, honest I am, but it’s not easy to get a job at my age.’
‘Rubbish!’ Ruby shouted, her body quivering with anger. ‘You haven’t even tried! Even since you lost the shop, you’ve been walking round as though somebody had died. You haven’t even tried to get a job, but then you don’t want a job, do you? You think such menial work is beneath you now that you’ve had a taste of being your own boss. Well, I’m giving you fair warning, I’m not prepared to put up with your behaviour any more. No self-respecting man would be content to let his wife support him; not when he was quite capable of work himself.’
‘That’s enough, woman! I’m sick of your preaching. I don’t have a wealthy father to finance me, and don’t tell me he hasn’t been helping you, ’cos I don’t believe it.’
Ruby was unable to believe what she was hearing. She had made her business work without help from her father or anyone else, and Michael certainly knew it. Still… if it made him feel better to think so, then let him; she was past caring. Walking towards the door, she said over her shoulder, ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be back, but in case you’re not here when I return, you’d better know that I’ve arranged to go out with my parents on Saturday night. They’re taking me out for dinner, to celebrate my birthday. I don’t suppose you’ll be home, so I’ve asked Lily to look after the children while I’m out.’
Michael lowered his head; he didn’t want her to see the hurt in his eyes. She could have
said no to her parents, could have said she’d rather spend her birthday celebration with her husband, but no; and who could blame her? They’d probably take her to a fancy restaurant up the West End, and what could he himself offer? At best, a few drinks in the local pub. In a voice filled with pain, he said, ‘You’re a hard woman, Ruby. I was always proud of your strength, but now I see it for what it really is. You’re hard; you always have been.’
Ruby watched him shamble away, pursing her lips. She wasn’t hard. She wasn’t! She was just trying to survive in the only way she knew. Her eyes pricking with tears, she stumbled from the house.
As she made her way down the road, her eyes firmly looking out for any hidden potholes, a cab passed her, and it took all her willpower to stop herself from hailing it. How lovely it would be to sink into the soft leather seats and be driven straight to the door of her destination, but she mustn’t get soft again. It had taken her months to get used to riding on trams, and although she still didn’t like them, she had become accustomed to them. She would always stand during her journey, to cut out the chance of tripping any unsuspecting passenger. The only problem now was the persistence of gentlemen who insisted on offering her their seat. It was a great pity that no one had thought of inventing an artificial leg that bent at the knee, but she was one of a minority and inventors needed a mass market.
While Ruby waited for the tram, she took out the letter that had arrived the day before. It was from a woman in Hackney who wanted some new uniforms for her women staff. Reading it through once more, she felt a moment’s apprehension. Was she biting off more than she could chew? If she made a good job of the order; however, it was more than likely that the woman would recommend her to her friends. Taking one last look at the address, she returned the letter to its envelope, her mind immediately returning to Michael and what he had said to her.
