by Anna King
‘Get back, everyone,’ someone shouted. ‘The gas cylinders will blow any minute!’
The words were hardly out of the man’s mouth when a tremendous explosion sent the onlookers scattering for safety. In the distance the sound of clanging bells heralded the arrival of the fire brigade, but Ruby didn’t hear them. She lay on the pavement, staring at the blazing inferno that had once been her home. With tears coursing through the grime on her cheeks, she whimpered, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’
Chapter Twenty-nine
Bertie and George sat on either side of the hospital bed, their dry red-rimmed eyes fixed on the still figure lying beneath the harsh white sheet. For three days Ruby had lain here, her face the colour of fresh fallen snow, the only sign of life the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She hadn’t spoken a word since the night they’d brought her here in the ambulance, and for the brothers keeping vigil at her bedside, it seemed an extension of the nightmare they had been suddenly and violently thrown into.
‘You go and get some rest, George, I’ll stay with her,’ Bertie said, his voice cracked with fatigue and grief.
George nodded, then rose from the wooden bench. ‘I’ll just have an hour, then I’ll come back and relieve you,’ he answered. There was no sign now of the boy-like features; his face ravaged with sorrow had taken on the appearance of a man twice his age. He walked unsteadily down the ward, making his way to a side room the hospital staff had set aside for their use.
Squeezing her hand tightly, Bertie spoke urgently. ‘Ruby? Ruby, please answer me. I know you can hear me! Please!’ But she remained motionless. Dropping his head on his chest, he fought to remain calm. It wouldn’t take much more to send him spinning over the edge of sanity, and if he had only himself to think of, he would stop fighting the black cloud that was now constantly hovering over his mind and sink gratefully into its comforting blankness. But he couldn’t afford that luxury; he was the head of the family now, and as such it was his responsibility to look after George and Ruby. The knowledge bore down on him, and he silently cried out in despair, ‘But I need someone to look after me. I can’t do it all by myself. I can’t!’ He felt a droplet of water hit the back of his hand and was surprised to find he was crying. He didn’t think he had any more tears left to shed.
‘Hello, Bertie.’
At the sound of Lily’s soft familiar voice, he turned his head to see her standing by his side. He tried to stand, but the gentle hand on his shoulder pushed him back on the bench.
‘It’s all right, Bertie. It’s all right!’ Lily said tearfully, then she walked over to the seat George had recently vacated.
Bertie looked across to where she sat, and felt his spirits lift slightly. Dear Lily: what would he have done without her these past few days? Apart from taking care of Danny and Florrie, she had also seen to the funeral arrangements, and for that alone he was deeply grateful. Swallowing painfully, he asked, ‘Has there been any news of Michael?’
Lily shook her head. She had been forced to tell Bertie about the argument between Michael and Ruby in order to explain Michael’s absence, but the reason for the argument she’d kept to herself. ‘No, he hasn’t been back since that night, I don’t know where he is.’
‘The man certainly chose his timing to vanish without trace just now…’ He broke off suddenly. He didn’t really care if he never clapped eyes on the man again, but Ruby would need him to get her through the days that lay ahead, and the children most of all would be glad of the comfort of their father.
Rubbing his hand nervously over his chin, he asked, ‘Is everything arranged? I mean, is the funeral…’ He felt the lump rising in his throat again and bowed his head. God, to die in such a way! Visions of his mother and father choking to death reared up in his mind, followed instantly by the image of their bodies on fire, helplessly thrashing about, their eyes wide with terror. He tried in vain to shut out the images that had been haunting him night and day. God Almighty, how much pain and anguish could the human mind endure? How much could he himself endure?
Lily saw the suffering on his face, but could only watch helplessly as he tried to retain his composure. Not knowing what else to say, she asked, ‘Do they know yet who the other man was?’
Sniffing noisily, Bernard groped in his pocket for a handkerchief before answering. ‘No. That is to say, there are a couple of theories, one being that the man was the friend of one of the maids, and was creeping up to her room when the fire broke out. The other is the possibility that he might have tried to burgle the house and was caught unawares, but I don’t know. I really don’t know…’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘No doubt someone will report him missing one day, but there was nothing on the body to identify him, although some of Mother’s jewels were found near where he lay. But that doesn’t prove anything; they could have been thrown there by the explosion. Ah, who cares who he was? My main concern now is Ruby… She still hasn’t spoken. What am I to do, Lily?’
She looked at the man she’d loved for years, and slowly shook her head. ‘We can only wait. Wait and pray. She’s strong. If she wasn’t, she’d have gone under years ago.’
Gathering comfort from her presence, Bertie managed a trembling smile. Why had it taken him so long to realise how much this blonde, grey-eyed woman meant to him? When he thought of all the wasted years… ‘Have you arranged for the servants’ funerals to be paid for?’ he asked. ‘It’s… It’s the least we can do. I -I don’t want their families having to worry about finding the money; God knows they’ll have enough to occupy their minds without… Oh, Lord, Lily, I’m sorry, I can’t seem to think straight. I think I’d have gone mad if I’d had to see to the funeral arrangements. But… it must have been hard for you… you being so close to the staff… and – and Mother!’
But Lily was no longer listening. Her eyes suddenly bright, she cried, ‘Look! She’s trying to open her eyes.’
Bertie swivelled round, his body slumping with relief as he saw Ruby’s eyelids flickering. ‘Ruby? Ruby, wake up! Please, Ruby, it’s me, Bertie. Oh, please, Ruby, say something, anything.’
Ruby fought against consciousness. It was warm and comforting here in the blackness where nothing and no one could touch her, but her mind had had enough rest and was now urging her back into the land of the living. Reluctantly she opened her eyes and stared into Bertie’s haggard face, her hand gripping his tightly. ‘Bertie?’ she murmured, her voice ragged, then noticing his red-rimmed eyes, she asked hoarsely, ‘They’re dead, aren’t they?’
Bertie could only shake his head dumbly, the simple gesture sending her world crashing down into smithereens. Tightening her hold on his hand, she whispered, ‘I tried to save them, Bertie, but my— my leg… my leg…’ Then the floodgates opened, sending scalding tears flowing unheeded down her cheeks. Her voice filled with anguish, she cried, ‘If I wasn’t a… cripple, I— could have saved them, Bertie! If I’d had two good legs… I could have s— saved them! Instead, I… lay helpless… on the g— ground watching the h— house burn, and… and there was n— nothing I could do. Oh, Mum, Dad, I’m sorry… I let you d— down! P— Please forgive me! I couldn’t help it… I tried, honest I did…’
Her voice rose to a scream as Bertie tenderly enfolded her in his arms, and his tears mingled with hers, he said brokenly, ‘Don’t, Ruby! Oh, God, don’t do this to yourself! You couldn’t have done anything… It had nothing to do with your only having one leg… You couldn’t have done anything… no one could have. Oh, Ruby, Ruby, don’t, love, don’t!’
Lily looked on, her face masked with an emotion too deep for words. Silently she gathered her bag and gloves and walked away, her eyes bright with unshed tears. As she reached the end of the ward she heard Ruby scream in anguish, ‘I’m useless! I’m nothing but a cripple, a stinking useless cripple! Cripple… Cripple… Cripple…’
* * *
Ruby was too ill to attend the funeral of her mother and father, so it was left to Bertie and George to lay their parents to res
t. As they walked away from the gravesides, their arms wrapped tightly round each other, they passed within feet of an unmarked grave, neither of them knowing that resting beneath the damp earth lay the charred, unrecognisable, body of their brother-in-law, Michael O’Brien.
Chapter Thirty
‘Now are you sure you’ll be all right, Ruby? We can stay at home if you’d rather not be on your own.’
Ruby looked at Lily’s anxious face and then at Bertie, who stood awkwardly at Lily’s side. Mustering up a smile, she said firmly, ‘For goodness’ sake, I’m not a child! Go out and enjoy yourselves, I’ll be grateful to have the house to myself for a change.’ She waited until the door had closed before letting the smile slip from her face, and slumped down wearily on the settee, her eyes gazing thoughtfully into space.
It had been nearly a year since the tragic deaths of her mother and father, but despite the old saying that time heals, she still felt the pain and futility of their loss. Not a day went by when she didn’t think of them and relive the agony of that fateful night. In spite of what everyone told her, she still held herself partly to blame, still believed that if she had been whole she could have helped to save them from the blazing house. For months afterwards she had refused to wear the artificial limb, telling herself that it hadn’t been any use to her when she’d needed it most. In fact the very sight of it had filled her with loathing. She thought back to all the years she had tried to pretend she was ‘normal’, had deluded herself into thinking that nobody could tell she had a wooden leg. And then had come that night, the night of reckoning, when she had lain helpless on the ground, the leg hanging uselessly by her side. It had been at that moment that she had seen herself as others saw her – a cripple. When she’d left the hospital she had felt a deep desire to punish herself, and to this end had taken to using a crutch. For weeks she walked the streets, taking a perverse pleasure in the stares and sympathetic looks that had followed her, fighting down the desire to shout out, ‘Go on, take a good look. Haven’t you ever seen a one-legged woman before?’
Even the children had been pushed aside while she wallowed in self-pity. It had been Lily who had brought her to her senses: dear, kind, Lily who had taken her to one side and told her what she was doing to Danny and Florrie. She remembered how she had turned on Lily and told her to mind her own business, saying that if she didn’t like her company, then she could find somewhere else to live. At that moment Danny and Florrie had started to scream, begging her not to send Aunt Lily away, because, if she went, there would be no one to look after them. It was as she’d looked into their small terrified faces, the tears streaming down their cheeks as they’d clung to Lily’s side, that she had come to her senses, and gathering them into her arms she had promised them that everything was going to be all right. That night the children had slept in her bed, and as she’d looked down at their sleeping faces she had vowed to pull herself together and get on with her life. To do that, she had to start to rebuild the business she had allowed to lapse.
It hadn’t been easy to start again. She had given Rene a week’s notice as soon as she’d arrived home from the hospital, telling the hapless girl that she would no longer need her services, and when she’d gone to her house to ask her back, she’d found that Rene had been forced to take a job in a garment factory, working 16 hours a day in appalling conditions. That knowledge had weighed heavily on her and she’d told Rene’s worried mother that if she wanted her old job back, to come to the house. That very night had seen an anxious tearful Rene on her doorstep pleading with her to wait until she’d worked out her month’s time at the factory. The pitiful relief in her eyes when she’d assured her that her job would be waiting for her whenever she was ready had lifted her spirits for the first time in months. The next day, she had attached the hateful leg and taken the tram down to the local newspaper to re-insert her advertisement, but it had been over two weeks before she’d received any customers. Lily had helped her with the new orders until a now happy Rene had come back.
On the outside, her life seemed to have returned to normal, but deep down, two worries pervaded her outward tranquillity. The foremost was that Michael seemed to have gone for good. She’d been so sure that he would have made an appearance by now, especially after the newspaper reports of her parents’ deaths, but from the night he’d left, she had heard no word. It had come as a great surprise to find that she missed him. After what had happened, she’d imagined that she would have felt relief at his absence, but it hadn’t worked out like that. Every time there was a knock on the door, she expected to find him there, a sheepish look on his face, pleading to be taken back, and she would have done so gladly. Then there were the children, who still missed their dad dreadfully and were forever asking her when Daddy was coming home. She could only assume that he had kept his word and returned to Ireland. If that were the case, one day soon he would come back to her. If only to see his children, he would come back.
Her second worry was that Bertie would decide to take a job offered him in Northampton. He too had suffered greatly over the loss of their parents, so much so that he had asked for a transfer. He didn’t care where he went as long as it was far away from London and the horrific memories the city still held. The offer of the new post had been made only the week previously, and so far he hadn’t decided whether to accept it. ‘But he will. I know he will. I’ve seen it in his eyes. He can’t wait to get away. If it hadn’t been for me and George, he would have left months ago,’ she whispered forlornly to the empty room.
Not that he needed to worry about George any more, for her younger brother was now living on his own for the first time in his life in a large flat he’d bought out of his share of the proceeds of the will. Since he had moved, he had seemed to acquire a maturity and sense of independence she’d never thought he was capable of. But then, maybe, like herself, he was merely hiding behind a facade, because despite her cheerful and independent outward appearance, inside she felt lost, lost and vulnerable – but not for the world would she let anyone know her true feelings.
The hours passed slowly, and for once she wished one of the children would wake up to keep her company, but, true to form, the night she needed their presence most, they remained fast asleep. There was plenty of sewing in the work room that she could have been getting on with; in fact, business was picking up so well that she was toying with the idea of opening a shop. She had seen one advertised for sale in Bow and had talked to Rene and Lily about the possibility of buying it. Both women were enthusiastic at the idea, and Rene had a friend who she’d said would ‘sell her soul’ for the chance to get out of the sweatshop where she worked and into the employ of Mrs O’Brien. And Lily had told her that she would be quite happy to look after the children and take care of the house in her absence; in fact she was positively desperate to justify her rent-free existence in Ruby’s home. Not that she had any need to feel uncomfortable, for Ruby was only too pleased to have her company, but she could understand Lily’s need to be of use. Still, she couldn’t make up her mind. It wasn’t a question of money, as her father had left them all comfortably off, but she seemed unable to motivate herself at present. She was just about to make herself a drink when she heard footsteps coming up the path and quickly arranged her face into a welcoming smile.
‘I thought you’d be in bed by now!’ Lily exclaimed.
‘I was just going. Did you have a nice time?’ she asked cheerfully, taking in the high colour in Lily’s cheeks. The sight of her friend’s evident happiness brought fresh hope to her. Surely Bertie wouldn’t leave now, not when he’d discovered how much Lily meant to him? The knowledge that her dearly loved brother might not after all be leaving brought a genuine smile to her face, and rising from the settee, she asked, ‘Would either of you like a cup of cocoa? I was going to make one for myself. I find it helps me sleep.’
‘Not for me, thanks, Ruby. I won’t need any rocking tonight,’ Lily said, stifling a yawn. Then, she added shyly, ‘Thanks for a lo
vely meal, Bertie. I really enjoyed it.’
Bertie looked into her grey eyes shining with love, and his heart soared. God, how he loved her! And if he had his way, she would stay by his side forever. Looking over her head to where Ruby stood smiling happily at the scene, he experienced a pang of guilt, knowing that the news he was about to give her would cause her pain. He would never have dreamed of leaving her before, but now that she was well and strong again, he was confident that she could cope quite well without him. He gently kissed Lily on her forehead, saying, ‘I enjoyed it too! Goodnight, love. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Lily blushed, feeling embarrassed at being so treated in front of Ruby, and with a quick flustered ‘Goodnight’ to them both, she hurried upstairs.
‘Well, Bertie, what about you? Will you join me in a drink before you leave?’ Ruby asked hopefully.
‘Er, yes, all right. As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you in private. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but seeing as we’re alone, well… might as well get it out of the way,’ he said awkwardly.
Ruby’s smile wavered as she heard the uneasiness in his voice. Swallowing hard, she nodded briefly before making her way towards the kitchen, Bertie following close behind. While she made the drinks, they chatted amiably, each knowing that the casual, easygoing talk was merely a prelude to something more serious. When they were both seated, their hands clasped round the steaming cups of cocoa, an awkward silence sprang up between them.
Then Ruby, her face studiously calm, said quietly, ‘You’re going to take that transfer to Northampton, aren’t you?’
He swallowed hard, his face taking on a reddish hue. With one finger he began to draw tiny circles on the table, before saying, ‘I’m sorry, Ruby. I wouldn’t have left before, you know that. But now that you’ve recovered… I mean… Oh, Lord, that’s a dreadful thing to say! Of course you haven’t recovered. No one could get over what we’ve been through in such a short space of time. What I meant to say was, well, you’ve regained your strength, you’re able to manage now on your own, you don’t really need me any more. And it won’t be forever – it’s only for a year, a kind of trial run. If I don’t like it up there, I can always come back, but… Oh, Ruby, I have to get away for a while. You do understand, don’t you?’
