by Weaver, Pam
Ruby nodded and smiled. He carried on talking about cameras and the finer points of photography as if she understood.
‘I would have carried on using that,’ said Jim, his bright eyes dancing, ‘but you’ll never guess what Mr Kendrick did? He only gave me a 1932 Contax camera.’
‘How wonderful,’ said Ruby.
‘I should say so,’ said Jim enthusiastically. ‘It’s terrific. It’s got a vertical eleven-blade metal focal shutter and …’ he paused for effect, ‘a bayonet mount, so that I can attach other lenses if I need them, and …’ his voice had gone up in volume, ‘a detachable back, so that I can change the film!’
Ruby looked suitably impressed. ‘It sounds very up to date.’ It was good to see him so happy.
‘There couldn’t be a better camera – I’m sure of it,’ he said, sipping his pint.
‘How come you stayed so much longer?’ said Ruby. ‘I thought you said the prize was to spend a week with Thomas Kendrick.’
‘It was,’ said Jim, relaxing into his chair, ‘but we got on so well. He not only paid me a small wage, but also said I was the son he’d never had, which as you can imagine was music to my ears. Oh, Ruby, when he persuaded Mr Hayward to let me stay on, he taught me so much. With everything he showed me, that man has given me the opportunity to really make something of my life. I promise that you and I will have a much better standard of living than I could ever have imagined.’ He took a gulp of his beer. ‘Has Percy gone back to fishing?’
Jim’s face was serious as she told him about Bea collapsing and Percy leaving again.
‘Why on earth would he do that?’ he gasped. Ruby was about to dismiss it with a shrug of her shoulder, but Jim caught her hands in his. ‘No more secrets, remember?’
So she told him. But not everything. Not about Rex.
‘Have you been to the locker, to see if he’s camping out?’ Jim asked.
‘I never thought of that,’ cried Ruby. ‘Of course! He’s bound to be there, isn’t he? Oh, Jim, can we walk there now? I just need to know that he’s all right.’
Jim finished his pint quickly. ‘Come on then, darling.’
It was unusual for Vinny to call in unannounced, especially in the early evening. Bea and Vinny were on good terms, but neither sister made a show of it. Bea supposed it was because their mother had been the same. She was rather buttoned-up, preferring to show her love for her daughters by what she did for them, rather than with hugs and kisses. Bea and Vinny were content to see each other at Christmas and Easter, and a couple of times in the warmer months, so it was a bit of a surprise when Bea opened the door and saw her sister on the doorstep.
‘Ruby told me you hadn’t been well,’ she announced as she walked in, uninvited. ‘Looking at you, I can’t say I’m surprised. You’re as thin as a rake.’
Bea smiled. ‘Must be getting to be like you then,’ she quipped.
Vinny harrumphed and took off her hat and coat. ‘So what’s wrong with you then?’
‘Shall I make us a cup of tea?’ Bea suggested.
‘No, you sit down,’ said Vinny. ‘I’ll do that.’
Bea knew better than to argue. She sat down again and watched as Vinny got everything ready.
Her sister eyed her as she put the teapot on the table. ‘Are you sure you’re eating properly?’
‘I wasn’t,’ Bea admitted candidly, ‘but I am now.’
‘Things difficult?’
‘They are a bit.’
‘Your Ruby working?’
‘She’s at the hospital,’ said Bea, ‘but she gets quite a bit less than she did at Warnes, and that wasn’t that good.’
‘What’s she doing?’
‘She’s a ward cleaner.’
‘Sounds like you’re all in a bit of a pickle.’ A teacup was pushed in front of Bea. ‘She’s a good organizer, your Ruby,’ said Vinny, sitting down with her own cup and saucer held high on her chest. ‘I don’t know why you don’t persuade her to get a job where she can use her talents.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said Bea.
‘I heard Percy was back.’
‘He’s gone again,’ said Bea.
Vinny harrumphed again. ‘That boy wants a good talking to,’ she said. ‘What the devil is the matter with him?’
Bea sipped some more tea and said nothing. Vinny had always been the bossy one, and it was no use trying to change her mind once she’d decided on something. Besides, Bea was too tired to argue any more. Yes, they were in a pickle. Yes, their reserves – meagre as they had always been – were almost exhausted, but she’d worn herself to a frazzle worrying about it and she couldn’t do it any more.
‘That lodger of yours still paying up?’
Bea nodded.
‘Well, that’s one good thing, I suppose. If Percy’s gone off again, what about the boat and the locker? Can’t you sell them … or rent them out?’
Bea looked up sharply. She hadn’t thought of that. How silly of her! That was the obvious thing to do. Renting them would be the best option and would bring in a steady income.
‘You’ve only been in the house five minutes,’ she smiled. ‘Trust you to come up with the answer to a prayer.’
Vinny lifted her skirt and parted her legs, so that they would be warmed by the fire. ‘I’m in a bit of a pickle too,’ she said.
‘Oh?’ Bea was surprised that her sister was confiding in her. Usually Vinny was far too independent to share her own troubles, but now that she looked at her, Bea could see that she was really worried about something. ‘Can I do anything to help?’
Vinny leaned back in her chair and stared into the fire. ‘I’m worried sick about Lily,’ she said.
Bea was tempted to begin asking questions, but something told her to be quiet and listen.
‘I think she’s been sleeping with that Albert Longman,’ said Vinny. ‘She denies it, of course, but I’m sure she’s doing it.’
‘Will he marry her?’ asked Bea. She, of all people, should be the last person to throw stones. After all, hadn’t she done the same thing herself, with Nelson?
Vinny shook her head. ‘He isn’t in love with her,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at her, and that’s not love. But the silly girl won’t have it any other way. Oh, Bea, what am I going to do? At best she’ll get a bad reputation; and at worst, if she ends up having a baby, I can’t give up work to look after it, and she’ll be ruined altogether.’
Had anyone else confided in her in this way, Bea would have put an arm round them, but she knew her sister was not a touchy-feely person. Instead she got up and poured them both another cup of tea. ‘Confront him,’ she said.
Vinny looked up at her with a shocked expression.
‘Find a time when Lily isn’t there and confront him,’ Bea repeated. ‘If his intentions are honourable, he’ll ask Lily to marry him; and if not, he’ll run faster than a fox being chased by the hounds.’
‘What if she finds out?’
‘Who’s going to tell her?’ said Bea. ‘I won’t, and neither will you. He’s not likely to admit to anyone that he’s been seen off by a woman. Better a few angry tears now than a life ruined forever.’
Vinny nodded and sighed. ‘You’re right,’ she said. They sat in companionable silence for a while until Vinny said, ‘Well, that’s you and me sorted.’ She rose to her feet. ‘Now you get yourself better, Bea, and I’ll pop by next week.’
And with that, she was gone.
It was dark by the pier. She wasn’t keen to be in such an uninviting place at night, but the desire to hear his voice again was so strong. This was a magic time. She hadn’t felt so exhilarated since before he went away. Her heart was fluttering like a silly schoolgirl, her mouth was dry and her hands trembled. Without the lights along the boardwalk to the Southern Pavilion, it was a depressing place. The council had made a small start on the repairs, but in these harsh economic times, other more pressing needs in the town took precedence. Most of the buckled girders had been remov
ed and the acrid smell of burning was long gone, but the blackened remains of the Southern Pavilion still pierced the skyline like the naked bones of a great whale.
He had told her to meet him under the pier. Her feet crunched on the stones as she walked off the Parade. She looked around nervously; nobody else was about. The ice-cream kiosks wouldn’t open until Easter and, apart from the public toilets, there was no reason for anyone to be in the area. It was a creepy place. The wind off the sea penetrated between the seams of her clothing like icy fingers searching for warmth. It stung her face and tugged at her collar. Keeping her head down, she pulled her coat tightly round her body and trudged on.
She wandered about for a few minutes, before deciding that she was so cold she would have to go back home. The wind sighed and then she heard something. She leaned against the pier support and closed her eyes. His voice always came when she was still. If only she could stop her teeth chattering.
‘You’re late.’ His reedy voice made her shiver. She knew it was all in her head, but this was the first time he’d been cross with her.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered anxiously. ‘I couldn’t get away.’
‘Ah, well, you’re here now.’
She held her breath, terrified that the moment would pass by. The wind fluffed her hair and she imagined that it was his hand on her face, stroking her skin, brushing her lips. She began to cry softly.
‘I need you to do something else for me.’
She put her hand to her head and rocked slightly.
‘Is it like the last time?’ She blew her nose. ‘I didn’t like it …’
‘Sweetheart …’ he said huskily. ‘Please – for me?’
And, sinking to the stones, she banged the sides of her head with her own fists.
CHAPTER 28
It took Ruby and Jim quite a while to walk the short distance to the beach and Nelson’s locker because Jim kept pulling her into dark doorways to kiss her and tell her how much he’d missed her. Ruby protested, but only mildly. It was wonderful being loved like that, and each time he did it, it fanned her passion even more.
‘I don’t want to wait too long before we marry,’ said Jim. ‘I mean to start my own photography business.’
‘Where would you get the money for that?’ cried Ruby.
‘Warwick Studios is closing,’ said Jim. ‘The Depression is making life difficult and Mr Hayward is retiring, but I’ve worked out a proposition for him. I would continue to run the business and, in exchange, he would get a percentage of the profits. That way, he keeps his assets, and I can be my own man.’
‘Oh, Jim, that sounds amazing. Do you really think he’ll agree?’
Jim shrugged. ‘Thanks to everything Mr Kendrick has shown me, I’ve given it my best shot. We just have to keep our fingers crossed.’
‘I shall cross my toes as well,’ said Ruby.
They finally arrived at Nelson’s locker, but as there was nobody about, she guessed that the fishermen must be on the water. She hadn’t a clue when it was high tide, but it looked fairly high right now. The men would have pushed off their boats as soon as the tide turned. There were a few lights out on the water, which only confirmed her worst fears.
‘Looks like we’ve missed them,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to come back tomorrow sometime.’
Jim was examining the locker. ‘Ruby, I hate to say this,’ he began, ‘but it looks as if someone may have already pipped you to the post.’
‘What do you mean?’
He was pointing to the name on the locker. Nelson Bateman’s name had been painted out, and the name William Reed put in its place.
Ruby gasped in horror. ‘When did this happen?’ She looked around wildly. ‘Father’s boat has gone too!’
‘It looks to me as if Percy has already sold the boat and locker,’ said Jim. ‘Unless William Reed simply helped himself?’
‘He wouldn’t do that,’ said Ruby. ‘I know the Reeds and they’re honest people. But Percy had no right to sell that boat. If it belonged to anyone, it belonged to my mother.’
‘Let’s not think the worst yet,’ said Jim. ‘He may already have given your mother the money.’
‘Yes,’ she said, feeling relieved. ‘That’s what he’s done. He’s gone back home and told Mother he’s sorry and given her the money.’ She shivered with the cold.
‘Come here and let me warm you,’ said Jim, opening his coat.
She snuggled into him and he drew his coat around them both. ‘Oh, Ruby,’ he sighed. ‘I love you so much.’
When they got back to Ruby’s home, Percy hadn’t returned, so it followed that he hadn’t given her mother any money. They didn’t say anything, preferring to wait until the next day when Ruby had had the opportunity to question the Reeds. Instead they stood together, holding hands and looking coy, as Ruby told her mother that Jim had asked her to marry him and she had accepted. Bea was thrilled.
‘Mum, I won’t leave you in the lurch, I promise. But if at all possible, please don’t make me wait until I’m twenty-one,’ said Ruby. She remembered poor Edith’s predicament. ‘We are perfectly sure.’
‘If you have good prospects and can provide for Ruby,’ Bea told Jim, ‘then I’ll give you my blessing.’
Ruby and Jim glanced anxiously at each other. ‘I’ll move heaven and earth to be a good provider,’ said Jim stoutly.
The next day Bea didn’t seem to notice when Ruby went to work earlier than usual. But before going to the hospital, she made a long detour to the beach, where the fishermen were preparing their catch for sale. Once she’d chatted to them, her worst fears were confirmed.
‘He sold it to me a couple of days ago,’ said Silas. ‘I give the boat and locker to my boy. What Percy done with the money, I don’t know, lass. ’Tain’t none of my business.’
‘It’s fine, Mr Reed,’ Ruby smiled. ‘I just wanted to know what was happening, that’s all.’ She was having a job keeping her voice even.
How could Percy do such a thing? Surely he knew how difficult things were for her mother and May. She waved cheerily and set off for the hospital. Her heart was sinking, but it was no good getting upset about it. What was done was done, and they would just have to manage until May was old enough to go out to work. She could only hope that their run of terrible luck would end soon, but as she walked through the gates she would have given anything to give Percy a good biff on the nose.
Ruby hurried into the hospital. There was a familiar figure just in front of her. What was Mrs Fosdyke doing here? She was carrying a bunch of flowers. Ruby grinned to herself. Whoever she was visiting, the ward sister would be sure to turn her away until proper visiting hours began. Mrs Fosdyke hesitated at the crossroad in the corridors and, as she turned round to get her bearings, Ruby ducked into a doorway. She had no wish to speak to her old supervisor and she couldn’t help feeling that Mrs Fosdyke might make trouble for her. As a result, she was a bit late arriving on the ward, but luckily nobody seemed to notice and, once she was working, her angry thoughts soon dissipated.
It was five-thirty and John was sitting on the train from Brighton. He had had a day to remember. He had worked solidly and without a break since coming to Newlands Road and business was good. Of course he charged rock-bottom prices, but he had repaired a good few boots and shoes and had mended someone’s Gladstone bag. He was also getting orders for leather-work, mending broken straps on laundry baskets and travelling cases, and such. His close proximity to the railway station worked to his advantage.
Mrs Bateman and her family were kindness itself and he was grateful, but John was lonely. He often thought of his beautiful wife Griselda, his sister-in-law Rachel, and Reuben, his little boy. He should have been there to protect them, but what could he have done? He had been working in his shop when the Hitler Youth had spotted Griselda, Rachel and the baby. What seemed at first like silly skylarking had quickly turned into something far more serious. Eyewitnesses said it was because one of the men did, or said, something she did
n’t like that Rachel slapped him across the face. God alone knew what he’d said to her, but his sister-in-law had always been quick-tempered. The young man had been furious, and he and his Hitler Youth friends had chased them all, like frightened rabbits. They had found Griselda’s and the baby’s bodies a week later. God alone knew what had happened to Rachel.
John had been angry and outspoken – probably too outspoken, because he’d ended up having to flee for his own life as a result. He missed Germany, and he missed Griselda and his little son dreadfully; and he missed his sister-in-law too. He often wondered what had happened to Rachel. There was nothing left of the old life now. Nothing except the little place mat that his wife had embroidered; and he only had that because, when he was getting ready to run away, he was looking for something to wrap up some jewellery in. The place mat was the first thing he’d laid hands on. The jewellery was all gone; sold to pay his passage to England. Only the pretty mat remained. He also missed his faith, and he missed the Jewish community.
That’s why he had decided to take the train to Brighton to give himself a little break. He wandered beside the sea, although, being so early in the year, there were few people about. At lunchtime he sat on the Palace Pier and ate a pie, and, after a short doze on a bench, ventured inland and wandered along King’s Road. From there he turned up Middle Street and, to his utter joy, came across a pale-yellow brick building with a rose window. There were six windows on the ground floor and eight on the first floor, all topped with red-and-blue tiles. The heavy wooden door was flanked by pink columns, with fruit and flowers from Israel crowning the tops. What thrilled him most was the inscription over the door, which included the year when the building opened. The English would have written 1875, but the number above the door was 5636 – the date according to the Hebrew calendar. It was at this moment that he realized he had stumbled across a synagogue.
He didn’t have long to wait before a fellow Jew came along and John was taken inside. He stood just inside the door, taking in the sights and smells of all that was familiar and precious to him. The synagogue was very ornate. The women’s galleries were held up by cast-iron columns, and the paintwork had a marble effect. The whole place shimmered with gold and gilt. Up the marble steps, where the Torah Ark was kept, he could see a heavy brass Menorah. John could feel tears trickling down his cheeks.
