Blue Moon

by Weaver, Pam

  ‘I know,’ said Ruby. ‘The posters are all over town.’

  ‘We’re to be there at six on Monday – tomorrow,’ Percy went on. ‘Typical of the man; always considerate. He knew I’d probably be working during the day.’

  Ruby’s reaction was one of relief. It was going to work out quite well. She would be seeing Albert again on Wednesday, so if anything new came up during the meeting with the colonel, she could tell him then.

  They were alone in the kitchen at Newlands Road. Ruby was sorting photographs into their covers, labelling them clearly, ready for collection. There were a lot fewer now. Autumn was in the air and the warm days that had brought the day-trippers were all but over.

  With Warwick Studios now closed, Jim hadn’t been idle. He had secured a placement in Hubbard’s to take a picture of every child who visited Father Christmas, and he’d persuaded a couple of local schools to let him spend half a day taking pictures of the pupils. It was a novel idea, but one that he hoped would mushroom, once the mothers began to show pictures of their children to relatives and friends.

  Percy had come back for the weekend. The delivery business was doing well and he’d been able to take a couple of days away from London, because they had taken on more drivers. In the following weeks the firm was getting ready to branch out even further afield, with clients not only in the Jewish areas of London, but in the Home Counties as well, which meant Percy had plenty of work. He was becoming better off by the day, so much so that this time he had driven down to Worthing in his own car. He was here to take Rachel to Brighton, to meet Isaac. They had made contact after Bea wrote to John – as she still called him – and it had been arranged that the two of them should meet up straight away, but then John had been unwell. Now fully recovered, he was going to meet Percy and Rachel on Sunday afternoon.

  Ruby turned her thoughts to getting the tea. ‘Have you thought any more about finding Charlie Downs?’

  ‘He seems to have vanished,’ said Percy. ‘I did as Rex suggested: I tried the British Legion and talked to a few of the old Sunny Worthing pals, but nobody seems to know anything about him.’

  ‘Perhaps he went abroad,’ Ruby suggested.

  ‘Or died,’ said Percy bleakly.

  Ruby began laying the table. ‘Where’s Rachel gone?’

  ‘She wanted to take a walk,’ said Percy. ‘She always feels cooped up after the Sabbath ends.’

  ‘You could have gone with her.’

  Percy sighed. ‘Sometimes she just needs to be alone.’

  Ruby squeezed her brother’s shoulder. ‘Poor girl.’ She paused, then added, ‘Has she ever told you what happened to her?’

  Percy nodded. ‘It’s not a pretty story.’ But, to Ruby’s frustration, he didn’t elaborate. ‘It’s funny being here without Mum and May.’

  Ruby smiled. ‘It was a lovely wedding, wasn’t it?’

  Bea had looked radiant. She had worn a cream-coloured plain satin sleeveless round-necked dress, which ended at the ankle. Around the shoulders it had a drape of Honiton lace, which was cinched at the waist under a wide satin waistband. The Honiton lace then continued from the waistband in a skirt that ended about six inches above the underdress. On her head she had a soft felt hat with a wide brim at the back, which tapered to a short brim at the front, and she carried a bouquet of creamy roses and blue delphiniums. Ruby and May had worn matching pale-blue dresses, while Rachel had worn a beautifully tailored lemon suit. Percy had never looked smarter, and Rex was resplendent in a bow tie. It seemed as if he had hoards of relatives and friends, who took over the whole of Warnes and a couple of other hotels in the town. Without exception, they were thrilled to see Rex happy at last.

  ‘We knew he was pining for someone,’ one woman told Ruby, ‘but he never talked about her.’

  ‘We thought she must have died,’ her companion confided.

  ‘He was alone for far too long,’ her friend agreed. She clapped her hands in delight. ‘And now he’s found the love of his life again. I do so enjoy a happy ending, don’t you?’

  The door opened now and Rachel came in, her face flushed and her hair blown in the wind.

  ‘Nice walk?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘I went to the pier,’ she said as Percy took her coat from her and kissed her cold cheek. ‘It looks as if they’re building something on the end.’

  ‘A new Southern Pavilion,’ said Ruby, dishing up the potatoes. ‘It caught fire last year. They’ve repaired the decking, but it’s taken until now to decide what to do with it.’

  ‘Dinner smells good,’ Percy smiled.

  They were eating fish, freshly caught and bought from Silas Reed on the beach. Ruby went to the back door and called Jim from the darkroom.

  They went to Brighton on the new electric train. Rachel was very nervous, so Percy held her hand all the way. It seemed strange at first not to have a steam engine at the front of the train, with its huffing and puffing, but the ride itself was very smooth. The weather wasn’t kind to them. It was a cold and wet day, but neither of them had much thought for the weather. Percy was worried that meeting her brother-in-law might be too upsetting for Rachel. She gave the outward appearance of being very tough, but Percy had seen her softer side and knew how much pain her sister’s death had brought. They had made arrangements to meet at the station by the black gates.

  As they alighted from the train, Percy could see John – who had now reverted to his proper name of Isaac – by the gate pier. He didn’t come onto the platform to meet them, for that would have necessitated buying a platform ticket, so Rachel hurried towards him. Oblivious of Percy’s presence, they stood in front of each other, overcome with emotion and unable to move. Eventually John held out his hands and Rachel put hers in his. Neither could speak.

  ‘Let’s go to the tea bar,’ said Percy softly, and the pair allowed themselves to be guided to a table. He bought three teas and joined them. Rachel and Isaac spent some time trying to find the words, but eventually the memories came flooding back.

  ‘You look so like her.’

  ‘You haven’t changed.’

  When they lapsed into their native tongue, Percy could only sip his tea and hope that whatever Isaac was saying to Rachel wasn’t too distressing for her.

  Colonel Blatchington had left instructions that when Ruby and Percy arrived at Warnes, they were to be shown up to the Superior Suite, where he was staying. Although Ruby knew the way better than most, the porter escorted them to the lift.

  Percy was still thinking about Rachel’s reunion with her brother-in-law. It had been tearful and not a little painful for them both, as they remembered together her sister and nephew, his wife and child. When he was finally able to speak, Isaac had asked after Bea and Ruby, praising their kindness and telling everyone that he would be indebted to them for the rest of his life. He’d presented Percy with a hand-made pair of shoes for May and made him promise that, if they didn’t fit, he would bring May over to Brighton for another pair.

  The lift came and Scotty opened the doors.

  ‘Hello,’ Ruby said shyly. This was the second time she had come back to her old workplace as a guest, and each time she had found it slightly awkward meeting her old work colleagues.

  Scotty smiled. ‘Good evening, Miss.’

  He closed them inside the lift and pulled the brass handle that operated it.

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Very well, considering,’ he said.

  Percy and the porter had turned their backs to face the door. When he was sure they couldn’t see him, Scotty gave Ruby a friendly wink. The lift stopped, he opened the doors and they stepped out into the corridor. Mrs Fosdyke was checking behind a picture frame for dust. She inclined her head as the colonel walked by and stared stonily at Ruby as she passed her. Winnie was putting the finishing touches to a vase of flowers. She always did the big corridor displays in situ, as the vase, once filled with water, would be far too heavy to carry. She turned as Ruby and her brother headed for the Super
ior Suite, her only sign of recognition a slight nod of the head.

  Colonel Blatchington was a big man. He was dressed in his BUF uniform and, as he opened the door of the Superior Suite, he snatched Percy’s hand and slapped him heartily on the forearm. ‘Good to see you, my boy,’ he said, sneezing loudly. ‘Come in, come in.’

  He shook Ruby’s hand politely and showed her to a seat. ‘And you are?’

  ‘My sister,’ said Percy.

  ‘Charmed, I’m sure, my dear,’ said the colonel.

  Ruby slid onto the high-backed chair and caressed the dark-red leather arms.

  ‘Let me offer both of you a drink,’ said the colonel, sneezing again. ‘Damned flowers. Always make me sneeze.’

  Percy took whiskey, and Ruby a small sherry.

  Colonel Blatchington pulled out a big red handkerchief and blew his nose heartily. ‘I’ll have to get the blasted things taken away,’ he said. He looked at Percy. ‘Pity you left, old chap. You were a damned good organizer. Whole thing’s going to pot without you.’

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ said Percy. ‘I began to feel reservations about where we were going.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ said the colonel, settling into another high-backed chair with a whiskey twice the size of Percy’s. ‘Explain yourself.’

  ‘I hated the violence at the meetings,’ said Percy.

  The colonel pulled a face. ‘Just troublemakers and Commies,’ he said dismissively. ‘Bound to make them come out of the woodwork.’

  ‘My fiancée is Jewish,’ said Percy.

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ the colonel boomed.

  ‘Things are changing in the BUF,’ said Percy. ‘When I first joined, every person’s opinion was valued and everyone was welcome. It doesn’t seem to be that way any more.’

  ‘We have to protect ourselves, dear boy,’ said the colonel. ‘Look what’s happening in the East End. The BUF wanted to march through the streets, but it’s been impossible. People from different religions – foreigners and troublemakers – have put a stop to free speech.’

  ‘By “people from different religions” you mean the Jewish community,’ said Percy.

  ‘If the cap fits, my boy. If the cap fits.’

  Ruby gave a little cough. This wasn’t what they were here for.

  ‘Sir,’ said Percy, leaning forward slightly, ‘with all due respect, we didn’t come here to discuss the movement, or my leaving. Ruby and I came to warn you.’

  ‘Warn me?’ said the colonel, suddenly on edge. ‘What about?’

  ‘It’s a little difficult, and we no longer have any tangible evidence,’ Percy went on, ‘but we are greatly concerned for your safety.’

  Colonel Blatchington had a slightly bemused expression on his face. ‘Go on, go on,’ he said.

  Ruby took up the story, beginning with Nelson’s death, George Gore’s accident and finally Linton Carver’s murder.

  ‘At one time we had Linton’s confession,’ said Percy, ‘but it’s been stolen.’

  ‘Confession? What confession – and what’s all this got to do with me?’

  ‘Sir, you may remember being the CO in 1915 when a man was shot for desertion,’ said Percy. ‘That man was called Victor. He took off one day and smashed up his rifle.’

  Colonel Blatchington suddenly paled. ‘Good God! Yes, I remember that. Damned unfair, if you ask me. I would have let him go with a punishment, but a missive came through from HQ that Field Marshal Haig believed that the death sentence in such cases would serve as a deterrent to others.’

  ‘We believe someone else is exacting retribution for his death,’ said Percy. ‘We cannot name that person, but we both – that is, the whole of my family – feel that you should be on your guard.’

  The colonel looked thoughtful, then leaned forward and looked Percy in the eye. ‘Tell me again, Bateman. I want to take this in.’

  They spent another half-hour talking over what had happened. Then, looking at his watch, the colonel thanked them, saying that he had to be elsewhere. As he got up he promised Percy that he would take his concerns very seriously, and then he saw them out of the room.

  Out in the corridor Winnie was packing up her things. The colonel went with them to the lift and sneezed loudly. Percy pressed the lift button.

  ‘Come one more time to hear Mosley,’ he said, getting the voluminous red handkerchief out of his pocket again and blowing his nose. ‘We need dedicated people like you.’

  Percy thanked him, but promised nothing. The lift was still on its way.

  ‘I’d better get on the phone to tell them to get rid of those damned flowers,’ said the colonel, having sneezed for a third time. ‘Goodbye, my dear,’ he said to Ruby and gave her hand a much more gentle shake. ‘Nice to have met you.’

  Ruby turned to face Winnie at the other end of the corridor. At the same moment her wedding florist turned round and they both inclined their heads. The lift arrived and Ruby heard the sound of opening doors.

  Behind her the colonel leaned forwards and said confidentially, ‘Look after them, Charles.’

  Scotty saluted smartly. ‘I will, sir. Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Good man. Good man.’

  Ruby stepped into the lift and turned to face Winifred Moore, who was absent-mindedly stuffing another flower into an already overfilled vase. They both started as Mrs Fosdyke came out of one of the bedrooms. Ruby glanced up at the men beside her, but the colonel and Percy were busy pumping each other’s hands. As she turned back to look at the two women, Ruby saw Winnie’s mouth tighten. She patted her hair as she picked up her florist’s bucket to go down the back stairs. In front of her and with her back to Winnie, Mrs Fosdyke watched Ruby with a dark expression.

  Deeply disturbed by what she had just seen, Ruby fixed her eyes on the floor. She felt shaken and upset, and there was something about that woman that she couldn’t quite put her finger on … But by the time they reached the ground floor, she knew what it was.

  CHAPTER 42

  ‘And I’m telling you, it’s her.’

  ‘You can’t possibly mean it?’

  Ruby could tell by the tone of his voice that Jim found it almost impossible to believe.

  ‘You didn’t see the look on her face,’ Ruby insisted. ‘I’d bet everything in my Post Office book it was her.’

  ‘What – all of it?’ Jim grinned. ‘All two pounds three and sixpence?’

  Ruby gave him a playful swipe on his arm. ‘It’s all I have in the world.’

  ‘She doesn’t look like a murderer,’ Percy observed.

  ‘They don’t come with “Murderer” tattooed on their foreheads, you know,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Weren’t you afraid that Winnie might attack the colonel with her florist’s wire, while he was on his way back to his room?’ said Jim with a grin.

  ‘You have pooh-poohed this at every turn, Jim Searle,’ Ruby said indignantly. ‘When are you going to take me seriously? I’m telling you, she is the killer.’

  Jim reached for her, but Ruby pulled away. ‘I had hoped you would support me in this.’

  Immediately he looked contrite. ‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘and I’m sorry, darling.’

  ‘Maybe you are right,’ said Percy. ‘It just seems so unbelievable that a woman who looks like everybody’s grandma could—’

  ‘She certainly doesn’t look like any grandma I’d ever want!’ cried Ruby. She suddenly looked thoughtful and grabbed Percy’s arm. ‘What was she doing there?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Percy, ‘you’ve lost me.’

  ‘When we went in to see Colonel Blatchington, she was hovering about in the corridor,’ said Ruby. ‘We were with him for at least three-quarters of an hour, and yet she was still there when we came out.’

  ‘You mean she must have been listening through the door?’ said Jim.

  ‘Exactly,’ replied Ruby. ‘Do you think we should go back and tell him?’

  Jim shook his head. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
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  Ruby tut-tutted.

  ‘No, listen, darling,’ he protested. ‘We’ve already told him everything we know, without having any actual physical proof. He listened out of respect for Percy, but if you voice yet another unsubstantiated accusation, the colonel might think you’re a bit of a crank.’

  ‘But we can’t just leave it there!’ cried Ruby. ‘If something happened to him, I’d never forgive myself.’

  ‘Let’s go to the meeting and keep an eye on him,’ said Percy. ‘He’ll be safe enough in the hotel. She’s only a middle-aged woman; the colonel’s a fighting man and quite able to look after himself.’

  ‘If what I think is correct,’ Ruby observed, ‘she’s already dispatched three other men.’

  ‘But with them she had the element of surprise,’ said Jim.

  Ruby nodded dully. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said.

  The next day there was a real buzz in the air. All day motor vehicles were touring the streets with men carrying loudhailers encouraging people to come to the pavilion for the meeting: ‘Your chance to meet the man who will bring back the “Great” in Great Britain.’ ‘Come and hear the country’s next prime minister.’ ‘Meet Mosley in person – the people’s choice.’ Towards the end of the day the coaches arrived, lining up nose-to-tail all along Marine Parade, and an impromptu carnival atmosphere began. It was wonderful for Jim. The late-autumn sunshine drew people to the beach and he took a lot of Magic Memories snaps.

  Because Bea was already living with her new husband in Hastings, Ruby had responsibility for manning the booth. She packed up at noon and went back home to develop as many pictures as possible, before returning later on, to get as many sales as she could. The light was fading by three-thirty or four o’clock, so Jim was on hand to help. It was a very busy day and they finally closed the booth at five forty-five. There was barely time to get back home with the equipment and be back before the start of the meeting in the pavilion. Ruby mashed some cooked potatoes with some leftover cabbage and fried it up to make bubble-and-squeak. With a couple of rashers of bacon and an egg, that had to suffice for their tea. There was no time for anything else.