by Weaver, Pam
‘I do most humbly apologize, sir,’ said the maître d’ and, turning to Mrs Fosdyke, he added, ‘Mrs Fosdyke?’
‘I know this girl,’ said Mrs Fosdyke. ‘And you are not her father. Her father is dead. He was nothing more than a common fisherman.’
‘Mrs Fosdyke!’ said the maître d’ indignantly.
‘I wouldn’t be so quick to make judgements,’ said Rex tartly.
‘Mrs Fosdyke!’ said the maître d’. ‘Apologize – this minute.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ruby said quietly. ‘Really.’
Recovering her composure, Mrs Fosdyke pulled back her shoulders. ‘I never apologize,’ she said haughtily, ‘and especially not to a cocky little strumpet who once worked here as a chambermaid.’ And with that, she walked away, leaving everyone open-mouthed.
CHAPTER 39
‘The bloody woman deserves the sack!’
Rex Quinn was almost beside himself with anger. His loud voice filtered through the wall and into her room.
It was the next day and he was back at Bea’s place. Jim had gone to work, Percy was out and May was playing outside, but Ruby was still in her room. All the way back from the hotel the previous evening she had fought back her tears, pretending that she was all right. But she wasn’t. Mrs Fosdyke’s words had hurt her deeply. Why did she hate her so much? Ruby only ever treated her with respect and obedience. Jim had done his best to comfort her, but even he was at a loss to understand. Why had Mrs Fosdyke been so rude?
Hearing her father’s voice now, Ruby opened the door and was just about to walk into the kitchen when she heard Rex say, ‘Of course I have lodged a complaint. The woman’s behaviour was appalling. I’ve never heard such a tirade of abuse.’
‘I think I may be the cause,’ said Bea quietly, and Ruby froze.
‘You?’ said Rex. ‘Oh, my darling, why on earth would you think that?’
‘I grew up with Freda Fosdyke,’ said Bea. ‘Years ago she set her cap at Nelson, but I was the one he married. It broke her heart.’
‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ said Rex.
Ruby came into the room and her mother put on a bright smile. ‘Hello, love. I’m glad you had a bit of a lie-in. Sit down and I’ll pour you some tea.’
Ruby sat down, and Rex kissed his daughter’s cheek.
‘We were just saying …’ her mother babbled on.
‘I heard what you were saying, Mum,’ said Ruby, ‘and I want you both to stop worrying about it.’
‘I’m seeing the manager this morning, before I finally leave,’ said Rex firmly, ‘and I’ll be telling him that I’m not having my daughter spoken to like that.’
Ruby smiled. To hear him talk about her like that was music to her ears. All her life she’d wanted a father who cared about her – one who would stick up for her – and now she had one. ‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to give Mrs Fosdyke a moment more of my life.’
‘But the woman—’
‘I don’t work there any more,’ said Ruby. ‘It really doesn’t matter. I refuse even to think about it.’
‘It’s my fault,’ said Bea, sinking into the chair.
‘No, Mum,’ said Ruby. ‘Mrs Fosdyke is a cow and a bully. While I worked at Warnes, I let her opinions rule my life. Well, I won’t do it any more. Bullies look for someone to bully. Well, not me; not any more. She can think what she likes. I refuse to let it bother me.’
‘You’re an amazing young woman,’ said Rex. There was no disguising the admiration in his voice.
‘Not at all,’ said Ruby.
‘The woman deserves the sack,’ he insisted.
‘Perhaps she does,’ said Ruby, ‘but if I get her the sack, I shall never be free of her. I’m cutting all links with her, right here and now.’ She looked up at her parents’ astonished faces and smiled. ‘Now, we’d better get a move-on or we’ll miss the day-trippers.’
Although Rex was only in Worthing for one more day, it was imperative that Jim spend the day on Marine Parade with his camera. The day-trippers would be in town, despite the overcast skies and the usual bank-holiday drop in temperature. The Sunday trading laws had prevented them from putting up the booth yesterday, so even though it was cold and miserable, the bank holiday was still an opportunity for Magic Memories. They simply couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity to get the business going.
Surprisingly, Rex had elected to join them later that morning, taking a turn in the booth with Bea and looking after May at the water’s edge. Ruby spent her time developing the morning pictures, ready to sell before 4 p.m., when the coaches parked up by the pier, waiting to take visitors home, actually departed. She flew backwards and forwards from Newlands Road on her bicycle. It was a lot quicker than walking.
‘Bea, my darling,’ said Rex, as he helped her pack up ready to go home, ‘it’s time we talked about our future.’
*
Having settled in her own mind the way she was going to deal with Mrs Fosdyke, Ruby was still in a bit of a quandary. She was blissfully happy to be Jim’s wife, and settling down to married life was both fulfilling and satisfying. He was teaching her to develop the films and she was becoming more skilled by the minute. She’d designed some little cards that advertised Jim’s burgeoning business, to give to potential customers, and she’d taken over keeping the books. Ruby tried to be as encouraging as she could, but she knew Jim was worried. That was why she didn’t tell him about the thing that most concerned her.
That they’d both seen the bullet in the bed was enough to cause them concern, but as she’d made the bed the next morning, Ruby had found a slip of paper. It had been crumpled by their own bodies as they lay in bed and slept on it, but when she read the words – just three of them – written there, it sent a chill right through her: Ruby Searle, widow. There could be no doubt about it; someone was making a deliberate threat.
She kept it to herself and worried for about a week, until she could make up her mind what to do. Jim had enough on his plate already and, for the first time in her life, her mother was happy. Ruby couldn’t bring herself to spoil things for them. That left her with no one to talk to – no one who would give her sound advice. Aunt Vinny loved a good gossip, so Ruby couldn’t even talk to her.
Then she bumped into Albert Longman.
He had been coming out of the offices of the Worthing Gazette just as Ruby walked by. They’d passed the time of day and, as he lifted his hat to leave, she made a decision. He was a reporter; he investigated things. He was older, a man of the world. If anyone knew what to do, Albert would. They parted in the street, but almost at once Ruby called him back.
He turned, licking his fingers and plastering his hair down at the front.
‘Albert,’ she began, ‘I know we’ve had our differences, but can I talk to you about something in confidence?’
He looked a little taken aback, but quickly recovered. ‘Of course, Ruby,’ he said as he smiled that smarmy smile. ‘Any time you like. After all, we’re old friends, aren’t we?’
Once again Percy was making big changes in his life. He’d walked out of the barracks without a backward glance and, as luck would have it, had found himself a job and a place to live all on the same day. It wasn’t much; just a job as a warehouse man and night-watchman, and the room he had ‘on the job’ was hardly fit for a dog. But it was a beginning.
He didn’t tell her exactly what he was doing, but he loved it when he saw Rachel. They would walk and talk for hours. Occasionally he would take her to the pictures, and sometimes she would let him hold her hand. During those times she told him a great deal about herself. He heard about her happy childhood, and how things changed when Hitler came to power.
‘We heard stories about people being taken away in the dead of night,’ she told him, ‘but you never think it will happen to you.’
‘Why doesn’t anybody stand up to him?’ asked Percy. He found it hard to believe that anyone could gain so much power – absolute power – so qui
ckly. But, as Rachel explained about the systematic elimination of all opposition, he began to feel increasingly uncomfortable. The sweeping-away of the old traditions – the ‘dead wood’ of society – and recreating it into a new world order were all terms Mosley had used. He wanted a Britain where Fascism was king, and where his word alone became the oracle for the nation. It sounded just the same thing that Hitler wanted: different name, different country, different leader, but the same result.
Percy began to ask himself real and, until now, unspoken questions. What if Mosley did become leader? What would happen to the king, to Parliament, to the government itself? If all the old ways were swept away, who would rule Great Britain? He shivered. Of course there was a lot wrong with the institutions of the nation, and everyone agreed they all needed a good shake-up, but how could you sweep away 400 years of democracy in a bloodless coup? And what would you put in its place? It all sounded very romantic from the platform, but what was the reality? Now at last Percy realized that he had been carried away with an ideology that was at best highly suspect and, at worst, downright dangerous.
For the first time since he’d arrived in London he missed his family. Rachel had lost all of hers; he had simply turned his back on his. What a fool he had been. What a hypocrite too. He was a man of the world; he’d slept with a few girls and, if Rachel would let him, he would jump at the chance to sleep with her. He didn’t much like the idea that he was another man’s child, and he was of the opinion that a woman should be faithful, but by sleeping with women himself, hadn’t he done the same thing as those he scorned? Then there was the money from selling Nelson’s boat and locker. He shouldn’t have kept it. If he wasn’t Nelson’s son, then it wasn’t even his property. He knew his mother and sister were almost destitute and, by taking that money, he might well have pushed them into the workhouse. He didn’t feel much like the all-conquering hero these days. He felt shabby, irresponsible and a thief.
As Percy held his girl in his arms while she wept for the friends and family she would never see again, this side of the grave, he wished with all his heart that he’d never got himself mixed up in another man’s thirst for glory.
Ruby and Albert met in Lancing on Thursday. She had taken the bus, and he the train, and they met in a small cafe on the high street. He was waiting as she walked in, and stood up to offer her a seat. The waitress hovered and Albert ordered tea for two and a toasted bun.
‘I feel dreadful, sneaking off like this,’ she said.
Albert tried to grasp her hand. ‘You know I’m always here for you, Ruby,’ he purred.
She snatched her hand away. ‘Please remember that I’m a married woman, Albert,’ she said haughtily. ‘Let’s keep this solely on a business footing.’
‘Of course,’ he smiled, closing his eyes as he did so.
‘I need your expertise, that’s all.’
‘And you shall have it,’ he said with that same irritating smile. ‘What can I do for you, Ruby?’
It took a while to explain everything and, to give Albert his due, she was delighted that he listened to every word she said. It was a little disconcerting that he never took his eyes off her, but he didn’t interrupt, or ridicule her in any way.
The waitress came back and Ruby poured them both some tea, while Albert put some jam on his already-buttered bun.
‘The real problem is that something has changed,’ she said. ‘I … we had thought this was all to do with someone exacting their own warped brand of justice, on behalf of Victor – whoever he was – but there’s something else.’ She fumbled in her bag and put the bullet on the table. ‘Jim and I found this in our marriage bed,’ she went on.
Albert raised his eyebrows. ‘But neither of you had anything to do with Victor’s death.’
‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘We were willing to believe this was a practical joke or something, but what Jim doesn’t know is that I found this as well.’ She placed the crumpled piece of paper in front of him.
Albert studied it carefully, repeating the words aloud. ‘Ruby Searle, widow.’
Hearing it said aloud, Ruby shivered. ‘What does it mean?’
Albert looked thoughtful. ‘I can hazard a guess,’ he said, ‘but it’s rather odd.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Ruby. ‘It means someone has got it in for me, doesn’t it?’
‘In for Jim, more like,’ said Albert.
‘I think someone means to do him harm.’
Albert looked up. ‘I’m afraid they do,’ he said. She was heartened to see genuine concern etched on his face, so she told him everything she knew.
Albert sighed.
‘What do you think I should do?’ she asked.
‘Have you been to the police?’
Ruby shook her head. ‘Jim thinks it’s not a real threat. I mean, it could be someone’s idea of a sick joke.’
‘It’s a bit unsavoury,’ said Albert.
‘I’ve got a letter that Linton wrote,’ she said. She also told him about Linton’s address book. ‘I was thinking that if you could go through it, you might be able to find out who is doing this. It has to be connected.’
Albert lifted his cup to his lips. ‘Of course I will. You can count on me to protect you, Ruby.’
‘Can you find Charlie Downs as well?’ she went on. ‘Mum and I can probably reach Colonel Blatchington ourselves. Percy has had some contact with him. I think we really should warn them. And one other thing: can you find out who made that bullet?’
Albert put his cup back in the saucer. ‘Ruby, the thing is home-made. There’s no maker’s name, no manufacturer’s number. Anybody could have done it – even a child.’
She sighed. ‘I just don’t know which way to turn.’
He reached for her hand again. ‘We’re old friends, Ruby,’ he said. ‘I want you to know that I’m here for you. If you get anything else, let me know.’
‘What about Jim?’
‘Jim is a big boy,’ said Albert. ‘I’m sure he can look after himself. Don’t worry.’
Ruby suddenly felt very grateful. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll have a scout around,’ Albert went on. ‘With that address book, I may be able to find out about the other men involved in this sordid affair. Keep in touch.’
Ruby nodded.
‘Drink your tea,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you here next week. You can bring the address book and the letter with you then.’
‘I can’t come for a couple of weeks,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s Mum’s wedding. But I can come the week after.’
‘All right.’ Albert nodded. ‘I must say, I am a bit surprised to hear that your mum is getting married so soon.’
‘It’s been a year,’ said Ruby tartly.
‘I suppose so,’ Albert nodded.
‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’ Ruby asked anxiously. ‘About us meeting, I mean. I don’t want Jim getting any wrong ideas.’
‘Our little secret,’ said Albert, running his finger across his mouth. ‘My lips are sealed.’
As she waited at the bus stop Ruby was glad she’d thought of Albert. She loved Jim with all her heart and, although she knew that Albert had once harboured feelings for her, and there were things about him that irritated her, he had turned out to be a good friend.
CHAPTER 40
Percy was more in love with Rachel than ever. He had even been taking lessons from the rabbi. It wasn’t hard to accept what he was being taught, but he wasn’t yet sure if he wanted to convert. He didn’t consider himself a religious man, but if he could not have Rachel unless he converted, then he would do it. She didn’t seem to mind one way or another.
The tide was turning. After the chaotic scenes in the next BUF gathering at Olympia, the Daily Mail changed its allegiance and began to thunder against the movement. That had ushered in a new period of unrest and anger. Percy wasn’t surprised when bitter clashes between English supporters of Fascism and their opponents took place in the East End. As more German
Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi persecution began to arrive, many of them settling in Spitalfields and Hampstead, they brought with them a long history as entrepreneurial middlemen, and London provided excellent financing opportunities. It was easy for jealousies to fester. The Blackshirts said you would never find a poor Jew, and Percy was beginning to see why. He loved the way Rachel’s people helped each other and, because of his connection with her, Percy found himself working in one of the new ‘sunrise’ industries. He’d got a job working for a wholesaler, supplying food and drink. His driving skills came in useful, as he bought top-notch ingredients from Covent Garden and ferried them around London to a small chain of restaurants. His employer liked that fact that Percy took pride in his work by cleaning his van every night when he returned to the depot, so it wasn’t long before talk of promotion was in the air.
He was overjoyed when at last Rachel agreed to marry him. Now all Percy wanted was his mother’s blessing, which meant swallowing his pride and going back to Worthing.
If he had been worried about the reception he might get, he needn’t have been concerned. As he strode towards Newlands Road from the station on the first Sunday in September, May saw him first. She dropped her skipping rope and ran along the road, shouting, ‘Percy, Percy!’
He swept her up in the air and swung her around as they both laughed. Bea heard the commotion and came out of the door. She flung herself into her son’s arms, laughing and crying at the same time. Then it was Ruby’s turn, and Percy was overwhelmed. He didn’t deserve this; he’d behaved very badly and had run out on everybody at a time when they’d needed him most. But, as he began to apologize, they waved his regrets away in their eagerness to get him indoors. It was only as they headed for the door together, and Percy hung back, that they noticed Rachel.
‘Mum, Ruby,’ said Percy, ‘this is my future intended. Rachel, this is my mother and sister.’
For a second or two the three women stared at each other in mutual surprise, then Bea held out her arms and hugged Rachel. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you, my dear. Come in, come in.’
