by Anna King
It wasn’t fair! She had worked damned hard, and if he had shown the slightest inclination to knuckle down and work to save the shop, she would have fought alongside him; she would even have gone so far as to get him the money he needed. But Michael didn’t want help. He wanted someone to do all the work for him, to shoulder the responsibility, and, in short, to be allowed to live a worry-free existence. She had known for a long time that she had married a weak man, but never had the knowledge been so painfully evident as it had been this past year. Shaking her head sadly, her thoughts turned to Bertie and his complete recovery from his mental disorder of the previous year. He had stayed at the house in Brixton for nearly six months while her mother and father, not to mention Lily, had fussed over him and nursed him back to health. Bernard had even gone down to the police station and spoken with Bertie’s Inspector, the result being three months’ compassionate leave with no reprimand for his previous behaviour. He’d returned to duty over two months ago and was now back home, a quieter, more serious Bertie, but nevertheless a sober one. A sudden shove from behind made her look up, and seeing the tram coming, she concentrated on the business of getting on, as it was already nearly full.
An hour later she was standing outside the address in Hackney, her mouth dry as she looked at the imposing house before her. The stone pillars flanking the porch reminded her of Mabel’s home, and, with it, memories of another life. Giving herself a mental shake, she drew a deep breath and mounted the stone steps leading up to the front door. Pulling the iron bell, she stepped back and waited for a long agonising moment before the door was opened by a young girl in a grey dress with a stiff white frilled apron and a starched frilly cap.
‘Yes? Can I help you?’ the girl enquired.
‘I hope so. My name is Mrs O’Brien, and I’m expected by Mrs Chiddy.’
‘Oh, yes. Come in. May I take your coat?’
Ruby allowed herself to be helped off with her coat, glad now that she had taken extra care with her appearance. She was wearing a white lace blouse with a full black skirt. Although the extra layers of petticoats didn’t hide her handicap, they gave her a feeling of security. Following the maid, she entered a large room and was dismayed to find not one woman but three, all watching her as she came towards them.
‘Ah, Mrs O’Brien, so good of you to come! Please take a seat.’ A small woman, elegantly dressed, extended her hand towards a nearby chair.
Ruby could feel her face beginning to burn as she felt the eyes of the women upon her. Carefully lowering herself into the chair, she self-consciously pulled at the hem of her skirt in an effort to stop the tip of her leg from showing, but to no avail.
‘I’m so glad you were able to come, Mrs O’Brien, I’ve heard such a lot about you. Doris – that’s the maid that let you in – well, her mother was one of your clients, and she was so impressed by your work that she’s been telling everyone she meets. When I mentioned to my housekeeper about needing new uniforms for the staff, Doris mentioned your name, and, well, here you are.’
Ruby smiled weakly, the uncomfortable feeling she’d experienced when she’d entered the room growing stronger by the minute. ‘Thank you for the compliment,’ she told Mrs Chiddy. ‘I try to please my clients, and I hope I can be of service. May I ask exactly what you require? You see, I only have one assistant and we do have a lot of orders to finish.’
‘Of course, of course, but first let me offer you some refreshment. Then you can tell us all about yourself.’
Before Ruby could protest, Mrs Chiddy had rung the bell, and while they waited for Doris to appear, she could feel the women’s continuing scrutiny. She jumped slightly as a younger woman leaned forward in her chair.
‘Tell me, Mrs O’Brien, how do you manage to visit your clientele? It must be so awkward for you to travel by public conveyance that I suppose you use cabs for your journeys.’
Swallowing nervously, Ruby looked from one to another of the faces, all of which displayed an avid eagerness, and felt the first stirrings of anger rise inside her. The bloody nerve of the woman… of all of them! They were surveying her as though she were on display in a cattle market! Lifting her head, she answered firmly, ‘As a matter of fact I do use trams. I find them a much quicker form of travel than hansom cabs.’
‘But, my dear, wouldn’t it be easier and more convenient for you to travel by cab? After all, with your… disability it must be uncomfortable travelling among a crowd of people.’
Ruby eyed the woman with distaste. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she had been summoned as an object of curiosity rather than as a bona fide business proposition. A sick feeling settled in her chest, and with a slight tremor in her voice, she answered, ‘It’s very kind of you to be concerned, but I didn’t come all this way to discuss my travelling arrangements, so I’d be grateful if you’d tell me what it is you require. I’m a very busy woman, as I’m sure you all are.’
The women looked at each other, and Ruby was quick to see the knowing glances that passed between them. The sickness was now moving up to her throat, but before she could speak, the woman she knew as Mrs Chiddy put her hand to her throat, and with a sympathetic look, said earnestly, ‘But, my dear, we didn’t mean to pry! Ever since Doris told us about you we’ve all been very anxious to meet you. We all think it’s admirable the way you’ve come to terms with such a terrible… well, how can I put it?… a dreadful experience. If it had happened to me, I’d have just died!’
Ruby looked at her coldly, and then her disdainful glance encompassing them all, said harshly, ‘One doesn’t die as easily as that, madam. Believe me, I know.’ Ignoring their gasps, she rose unsteadily and, without a backward glance, left the room.
‘Well, really, the ingratitude of the wom—’
The words were cut off as Ruby slammed the door behind her. Fighting back tears of mortification, she grabbed her coat from the waiting Doris and made for the front door.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ Doris whispered as she helped the furious Ruby on with her coat. ‘I knew she didn’t really want any uniforms, but I couldn’t say anything or I’d have lost my job. Oh, I’m really sorry, honest I am, and my mum will skin me when she finds out! She only had the one dress made by you, but she thought you were marvellous.’ Ruby stopped her frantic struggling with her coat, and looking into the girl’s face, felt her anger seep away. ‘It’s all right! I should be accustomed to this kind of thing by now, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever get used to the cruelty of some people.’
‘Not everyone’s the same, ma’am, and those in there…’ she thumbed her hand over her shoulder, ‘they’ve nothing else to do with their time. I feel sorry for them, in a way.’
‘Like you feel sorry for me?’ Ruby asked quietly.
Doris’s eyes flew open in surprise. ‘Sorry for you? Lord no, ma’am. I only wish I had half your brains and gumption! If I had, I wouldn’t be stuck in a dead-end job like this one. Goodbye, ma’am, and don’t let them get to you. People like that aren’t worth worrying about.’
It was just starting to rain as Ruby left the house, and with an exclamation of disgust, she pulled her fur-lined coat up to her throat. She was half-way down the street when she spotted a cab coming towards her, and with a muttered, ‘Oh, what the hell!’, she raised her arm to hail it.
* * *
Michael stared down at the letter in front of him, feeling again such a surge of anger that he felt as if he would burst. It had arrived just after Ruby had left, together with three others.
Rene had taken them into the workroom, only to reappear moments later with an apologetic look on her homely features. Holding out the long envelope, she’d said in confusion, ‘I’m ever so sorry, Mr O’Brien, but this one’s private-like, not nuffink to do with the business, I didn’t know till I opened it.’
Michael had given the re-sealed letter a cursory glance before putting it behind the clock. But an hour later his curiosity had got the better of him, and assuring himself that he had a perfe
ct right to open any letters coming into the house, he had slit the envelope. The contents of the letter had made him jump out of his chair, clutching a handful of hair, his face wearing a stunned expression as he’d re-read it, unable to believe his eyes. Now, two hours later, he was waiting for Ruby to return. He had sent Rene home on the pretext that he had received bad news, and it would be better if he had the house to himself when he told Ruby. Aye, that at least was the truth, although maybe it would have been better if Rene had stayed, for in his present mood he could commit murder! He shook his head as he read again the words on the single sheet of embossed notepaper.
Dear Mrs O’Brien,
I am writing to inform you that your account now stands at £3,235, which is of course the original £3,000 plus interest. Would you consider investing the money? This would be better than letting it stand idle, and it would mean a more substantial amount for your children when they come of age. I would be pleased if you could call at my office and discuss the matter at your earliest convenience.
Yours faithfully,
A.R. Bunting
Screwing the letter into a tight ball, Michael tossed it viciously across the room. The bitch, the lying, scheming bitch! All this time she had had money. He should have known the auld girl wouldn’t have left her with just a pittance. She had stood in front of him just a few short hours ago and sworn that she had built her business up with no help from anyone, and had ridiculed him into the bargain. He thought back to the day he had come to her, pleading for help. No, not pleading – he had crawled, begged, her to help him to find the money to save his shop and she had turned away. God, if he had her with him now! The sound of a carriage drawing up outside the door brought him to his feet. Slowly crossing the room, he lifted the lace curtain and looked out. Aye, she could afford to hire carriages, couldn’t she, the bitch, the deceitful, bloody bitch? Not trusting himself to be alone with her, he raced to the scullery and splashed cold water on his perspiring face.
‘Hello, Rene, I’m back,’ Ruby called out as she took off her coat. Then, realising that the familiar sound of the sewing-machine was missing, she crossed the room. ‘Rene? Are you there? It’s me, I’m ho–’ She fell back in surprise as Michael appeared in the kitchen doorway, his face as black as thunder. ‘Why, Michael, I didn’t expect to find you still at home. Wha—?’
‘Aye, I didn’t expect to be here meself,’ he answered with deliberate slowness. ‘A letter came for you while you were out, and seeing as we’ve no secrets, I took the liberty of opening it. We don’t have any secrets, do we, Ruby?’
Ruby’s mouth turned dry at the sight of the hatred in his eyes. Her heart begin to hammer violently as she waited for him to continue, aware of a terrible premonition of doom.
‘Well, Ruby, me darlin’ wife, have you nothing to say to me? Is there anything I ought to know… something you have to tell me? No? Well now, that’s a matter of opinion.’ He came towards her, and she noticed the letter in his outstretched hand. Thrusting it under her nose, he waited while she scanned it, her eyes darting nervously to his. ‘So you only got three hundred, did you?’ His voice rose shrilly, all traces of calmness gone. ‘You lying, stinking, cheating bitch! All these years I’ve been waiting for either the auld girl or your father to die, and for what? To be saddled with a fucking cripple!’ He watched with pleasure and pain as the blood drained from her face, but he wasn’t finished yet. No, begod! He’d suffered for years, first with the humiliation of knowing that her family thought he wasn’t good enough for her, and then the failure of losing the shop, the only chance he’d ever had of making something of himself. And she could have saved him from that final humiliation – all she’d had to do was give him the money he’d needed – but instead she’d spouted platitudes, nagged him to find work, brought him low by letting him know that she was supporting him. Aye, he’d suffered more than any man should; now it was her turn. Overturning the chair that stood between them he advanced upon her, his mouth working with rage.
‘Put your coat back on. We’re going down to the bank to get that money. I’m your husband. The law says that whatever you have is mine, and by God if ever a man has earned it, it’s me!’
Backing away, she said in a trembling voice, ‘That money is in trust for the children, I haven’t touched a penny of it. You can go down to the bank and ask Mr Bunting, if you don’t believe me. And as for your rights as a husband, that law was changed years ago. There’s nothing you can do, Michael. I have no intention of giving you any money. And after… after what you’ve just said, I don’t think there’s any need for pretence any more, do you? Our marriage is over, finished. Now get out, I’ll…’
‘Oh no, begod, it’s not over until I say so!’ he roared. ‘And not because I love you so much I can’t bear to live without you, either. Jasus, do you think I get any pleasure from taking a one-legged woman to me bed? It’s lucky I’ve a strong stomach; I’ve needed it over the years. Well, now there’s no need for me to stomach it any more. I’m off, back to Ireland, but not before I get me hands on that money, and I’ll be taking me children with me. They’d be better off growing up in Ireland than in this land of snotty-nosed bigoted bastards!’
Ruby reeled back in horror, her hand pressed tightly against her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. In her wildest nightmares, when she dreamed he had found out about the money, she had never imagined he would act like this. She felt sick; sick and dirty inside. And the children? Did he really think she would let him take her children away from her? Her face white, she stared unflinchingly back at him. ‘You’re getting no money from me, Michael. You’ll have to do what other men do: work for it! And don’t think for one moment you can take my children away. No judge in his right mind would hand them over to a drunkard. As for the sight of me turning your stomach, that feeling couldn’t be any worse than the loathing I feel now. Now get out! Get out of my house before I go and fetch Bertie to throw you out!’
Michael could feel his insides churning, and for one wild moment he thought he would faint in front of her. Now that the first wild rage had passed, he realised that he was finished with her. He knew also that, without her, he was nothing. God Almighty, what had made him say those things? He had only meant to tackle her about the money, not attack her personally. Jasus, he hadn’t meant that about her turning his stomach. He loved her! In spite of what she’d done, he still loved and needed her. Seeing everything he had slip away, he tried desperately to close the breach between them. Holding out his hands, he implored, ‘Ruby, please? I didn’t mean half of what I said! Please believe me. I was hurt, terribly hurt, that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about the money. Look, I’ll get a job… tomorrow, I promise…’
Ruby looked into the pleading face but felt no pity for the man she had once loved. Curling her lip, she said bitterly, ‘Don’t demean yourself any more than you have already. If you’ve nothing else, at least hang onto your pride. Now, are you going, or do I have to fetch Bertie?’
At the further mention of his brother-in-law, a red mist descended over Michael’s eyes. This was the final humiliation! Not only was she set to take his children from him, she was prepared to see him dragged from his own house like a common criminal. He searched her face for some sign of compassion, but found only contempt. Her superior expression was the last straw, and if nothing else, he would have the satisfaction of wiping that smug look off her face before he went. His only intention was to frighten her, but as his hands shot out and grabbed her by the throat, his fingers tightened cruelly. Tighter and tighter he squeezed, he heard the strangled gasps and felt her futile clawing at his hands as he increased the pressure. His face maniacal, he muttered furiously, ‘Aye, not so high and mighty now, are you, darlin’? It’s not more than you asked for. Try and take me house and children from me, would you. And see me brought low into the bargain, you hard-hearted one-legged cow!’ Glaring down, he saw her face, no longer infuriatingly superior but turning blue, her tongue beginning to
protrude. The awful sight shocked him back into reality. He released his grip and cried wildly, ‘God in heaven, what have I done? Oh, sweet Jasus, darlin’, I didn’t mean it! Oh, God forgive me, I didn’t mean you any harm!’
Ruby pushed feebly at his arm and then clutched at the table to stop herself from falling. She drew in deep shuddering mouthfuls of air, her hand protectively against her bruised throat. The room was spinning as she fought to retain consciousness. Then the slam of the front door brought her head painfully round, and she whispered hoarsely to the empty room, ‘It didn’t have to be like this! Oh Lord, why did it have to end like this?’ before slumping on a chair. Her arms outstretched on the table, she laid her head down and wept.
Chapter Twenty-eight
‘That’s the best I can do,’ Lily said as she applied an extra layer of grease-paint to Ruby’s neck. ‘Although why you want to protect him, I don’t know! If a man tried to strangle me, I’d shop him to the police.’
Ruby smiled at her friend before turning to view herself in the mirror. Lily had done a good job, and there were now only a few faint marks showing; once she put on the necklace her father had sent round with Lily and let her hair flow free over her shoulders, no one would be any the wiser. Slipping off her dressing-gown, she pondered Lily’s words and wondered why she hadn’t reported Michael for his violent assault, then shook her head. She could feel it in her heart to be sorry for him: what did he have now? Could she really, after all the years they’d spent together, have him hunted down and thrown in jail when she could have prevented it all? Carefully she stepped into the pale blue evening dress she’d made especially, and then, pulling it up over her shoulders, waited for Lily to fasten it at the back.
‘Now, promise me, Lily, not a word to anyone about what I told you,’ she said sternly, already regretting telling her about the money Mabel had left her. If she could have concealed what had happened between her and Michael, she would have kept quiet about that also, but the need to confide in somebody had been too strong. ‘It was partly my fault. If I’d been honest with him from the start, about the money, none of this would have happened.’
