Bob looked at Ruby. He had such admiration for the woman and was surprised to see how worried she appeared and also how vulnerable. He’d always considered her to be such a strong person and the kind of woman that would stand up to whatever was thrown her way. Even Hitler didn’t stand a chance with the likes of Ruby Caselton. He was proud to know the woman and more than a little in love with her. ‘There’s no need for you to worry about travelling alone, Ruby.’
‘Ask one of the girls, do you mean? I’m not sure they would be able to spare the time to accompany an old woman on a silly whim.’
‘It’s not a silly whim, Ruby. You have concerns for a member of your family and you miss your grandchildren. There is someone who could go with you and make sure you reached your destination.’
Ruby screwed her face up as she considered who it could be. ‘I suppose I could go to Devon with George and then travel from there. It’s not so far, is it? No, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I’m not so sure I could live under the same roof as my daughter-in-law for too long. Why, she might take me to that golf club she’s always going on about and introduce me to her posh friends. No, I couldn’t be doing with that.’
Bob laughed. ‘Oh, Ruby, you’d be a breath of fresh air to your Irene’s friends, but I agree, it’s not my cup of tea either. Besides, George and Irene’s home is still over a hundred miles from where your Pat and the kids are staying. No, I thought I’d be the right person to accompany you and make sure you reach your destination in one piece . . . and get home again,’ he added with a smile.
Ruby was pulled up short by Bob’s suggestion. She needed time to think. Picking up the used cups and saucers, she placed them in the sink and poured the remaining hot water from the kettle onto the crockery. ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that for me, Bob. Why, you are as busy as the girls, what with you ARP work and helping out down the police station. You said yourself that once a copper, always a copper, and your Mike relies on you for help with them being so short staffed. Then there’s the gardening and we mustn’t forget your work with the Home Guard. Didn’t you say there were going to be some special manoeuvres before too long?’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Even in wartime people deserve a holiday, Ruby. You’d be safe travelling with a man and I’d never forgive myself if you or one of the girls came to harm when I’m able to accompany you,’ Bob said softly.
Ruby sat back down deep in thought as she wiped her hands on the hem of her apron. ‘It does make sense, Bob, but I’m not sure we’d get much of a holiday. I’d be down there and back in a couple of days. I only want to make sure those children are happy and give them a big hug. I miss them so much.’
Bob reached across and squeezed her hand. ‘You must do. I was the same with our Michael when he was up here in the thick of things and I was down in Margate. We always will worry about our kith and kin. It is only natural.’
‘But you was the one who was bombed out. Alexandra Road has survived so far.’
‘Do you think the Luftwaffe would dare drop explosives on Ruby Caselton?’ Bob joked, trying to lighten the mood. ‘However, you do know you’ll be gone longer than a few days? It will take that just to get yourself down to Cornwall.’
Ruby shook her head slowly. ‘I had no idea. There was me thinking I’d pop down there and see my Pat and then catch the next train home.’
‘Do you have a map?’ Bob asked. ‘If not, I have one at home you could look at.’
Ruby thought for a moment before going to the sideboard and opening one of the polished mahogany doors. ‘I thought so. I’ve still got our George’s geography books from when he was at school.’ She pulled out a shabby atlas with a broken spine and laid it in front of Bob. ‘Cornwall must be in there somewhere.’
Bob flicked through the pages until he came across a map of England. Pointing to north Kent and then to Margate, he looked up at Ruby, who was peering over his shoulder. ‘Can you see the distance between where we are now and where Margate is?’
‘It’s no more than half an inch,’ Ruby whispered. ‘Who’d have thought that? Why, it took a good couple of hours to travel to Margate when we used to go on the paddle steamer down the Thames on our days trips. Now, show me where Cornwall is.’
Bob pointed to the most western county in the country. ‘It doesn’t help that Pat is on the Lizard Peninsula, which is the southernmost point of England. It’ll take days to get there, especially if we have to travel through bombing raids and on damaged train lines. It’s a shame we can’t drive down, but with petrol almost unobtainable it’s nigh on impossible.’
‘I’d not wish to waste petrol on visiting family even if we could get hold of it, Bob. The war comes first in this household.’
Bob nodded in agreement. ‘We could get there by train. Many trains. Let me be your companion, Ruby. I’d feel a lot happier that you were in safe hands.’
‘I’ll give it some thought, Bob. Thank you for thinking of my safety. It’s a great comfort to me. Now, I need to dash off to the fishmonger and see what I can get for our tea.’ She patted Bob on the shoulder. ‘You’re a good man, Bob Jackson, and a good friend to this family.’
‘More than a friend, I hope, Ruby,’ he said as he got to his feet and reached for his overcoat. ‘I’ll wait for your answer but don’t take too long as you never know what Hitler’s got up his sleeve next.’
Bob was thoughtful as he left number thirteen. He decided to check up on travel routes and what was happening in the South West of England, as the last thing he wanted to do was to take Ruby into danger. That’s if she agreed to him being her companion. He dearly hoped she would.
5
‘There’s another pile of clothing over there that needs sorting, Vera. If you come across any bedding, can you put it to one side? We have two families who’ve been bombed out and are in urgent need of any household items we can lay our hands on. I’m thinking bedding comes pretty near the top of the list. I know I’d want a bed if nothing else if I was bombed out of my home,’ Ruby said as she stopped to wipe her brow. It might only be May but already the days were becoming warmer.
Vera had been no help as she moped about. ‘I’ll get around to it soon, Ruby. I’m not feeling my best today.’
Ruby stopped what she was doing and placed her hands on her hips. ‘Now look here, Vera Munro, if everyone was as much use as you are today, we’d soon lose this war. Stop being such a limp lettuce and get working. The sooner our work is done, the sooner we can go home,’ Ruby said. She had no time for people who couldn’t turn their hand to helping others. Looking around her, she could see fellow Women’s Voluntary Service members hard at work going through donated items for those less fortunate due to this awful war. It was warm in the old church hall and with so many piles of unwashed clothing, as well as a few hot helpers, there was an odour it was hard not to turn her nose up at. In the corner a tea urn was bubbling away ready for a tea break and Ruby was more than in need of a drink. When that was done there would be a meeting to go over duties for the rest of the week. Life was never quiet in the WVS and she’d have it no other way. They all had to play their part and the only one not doing that was Vera.
‘I’ve received another letter,’ Vera said as she picked up a pillowcase from a pile of donated items and wrinkled her nose as she checked it over. ‘I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I have to take in two evacuees whether I like it or not. No amount of me explaining how I’ve more than done my bit for the war effort could convince them that my home was not the place for strangers. Why, even telling them I was a leading light of our local WVS couldn’t sway them.’
Ruby tried hard not to snort with laughter and had to turn away for a moment to compose herself. ‘They most likely thought you were the kind of person to make someone welcome in their hour of need due to your work in the WVS,’ she suggested.
Vera visibly brightened. ‘I’d agree with that, Ruby. No one’s more welcoming than me,’ she said, throwing the pillowcase into a box mark
ed for rags.
‘Good afternoon, ladies, ’ave I caught you shirking yer duties?’
Ruby looked up to see Maisie with two bulging bags. ‘Chance would be a fine thing, love. Vera here was just saying how she was looking forward to welcoming two evacuees into her home.’
‘What, they’re evacuating people here? I thought they sent the ’omeless to the countryside, not to Vera’s.’
Ruby burst out laughing. Maisie was a real tonic after having worked with Vera for a few hours. The two women usually ticked along together fine, but when Vera had one of her moods on her time could drag on forever. ‘I suppose these would be adults who have lost their homes. Does it say much in the letter, Vera?’ Maisie asked.
Vera pulled the letter from her pocket and passed it to her. ‘Check it for me, love, I’m rather busy at the moment.’
Maisie grinned at Ruby before scanning the letter quickly. ‘Doesn’t give much away ’ere, Vera. You’ll have to wait and see what turns up, won’t yer?’
Vera nodded thoughtfully. ‘Knowing the top-secret job our Sadie does, it’ll probably be someone important. They’ll need somewhere respectable to place people like that.’
‘You could be right, Vera. What have you got for us today, Maisie?’ Ruby said as she looked at the bags Maisie placed on the table.
‘This bag has items of clothing. There are a few women’s skirts as well as children’s dresses and some overalls fer smaller boys. The other bag is full of scraps that were left over after I turned the clothing you gave me into useful bits and bobs. Can someone use ’em to make rag rugs?’
‘Rag rugs? Now’s there’s a thought. They’d be just the ticket for people who are trying to set up home again after being bombed out,’ Ruby said, half to herself. ‘If only we knew how to make them, we could set up a group for women wanting to learn.’
‘It would make a change from knitting,’ Vera added as she peered into the bag of clothing and pulled out a flower-patterned skirt. ‘Do you think this would fit me?’ she asked, holding the skirt to her ample waist.
‘Perhaps thirty years ago it would have done, Vera. Now put that skirt back where it came from. Maisie made those for women who have lost all their possessions, not for you to regain your youth.’
‘I know how to make rag rugs. It’s something I grew up doing. It was that or walk on bare boards in my home. If you can get hold of some sacking for the back of the rugs, it’d take no time at all to get going,’ Maisie said. ‘Perhaps you could start a rug-making group. There are always rags to be found.’
‘Leave it with me, Maisie; I’ll soon get the group up and running. Welcome to the WVS.’
Maisie was secretly delighted to be accepted and to be able to do more to help the less fortunate, but she was unsure how she could fit this into her life. She’d felt so tired of late and something was nagging at the back of her mind. She brushed it aside and smiled at Ruby. She didn’t want to upset the woman who had done so much for her in the past. ‘Thanks, but I’m not so sure about wearing one of them green uniforms.’
‘Whoa there. Slow down a bit or you’ll have me falling off!’ Alan shouted above the roar of the engine of the beloved motorbike he called Bessie. ‘If I’d known you would be so reckless, I’d have said no to your request,’ he continued in a loud voice.
The motorbike came to a halt in front of Ruby’s house and Alan climbed from the pillion seat. The driver dismounted and held on to the handlebar of the bike, unsure what to do next. ‘How do you park this thing?’ Freda asked as Alan wiped his brow and took control of Bessie.
‘You done very well for your first attempt, girl,’ Bob called from where he was watching Freda’s riding lesson. ‘I reckon another couple of lengths of the road and you’ll have the hang of things,’ he added, grinning at Alan, who looked rather pale.
‘Don’t encourage her, Bob,’ Ruby scolded as she waved to a woman from across the road who had been peering from behind net curtains at the goings on in front of number thirteen. ‘The neighbours are starting to get a bit twitchy with all the noise and shouting.’
‘Tea’s up,’ Sarah announced as she carried a tray into the small front garden and perched it on the wall. ‘How is Bessie faring?’ she asked her husband. ‘And more importantly, how is Freda faring?’
Alan patted the seat of his prized possession before kicking the stand lever down with his foot and leaving the bike to rest, then reaching for the much-needed tea. ‘Freda is doing very well. I’m surprised how brave she is. Bessie’s not so bad considering she’s been covered in a tarpaulin in Mum’s shed for the past couple of years. The tyres required pumping up and I needed to clean a spark plug, but she’s running like a dream.’
Sarah frowned. ‘I’m surprised there was any petrol.’
Glancing at Bob for help, Alan looked a little sheepish as he confessed, ‘Er, I had a can hidden in the shed for emergencies . . .’
Sarah was shocked. ‘Alan, really! We are not supposed to stockpile petrol. To think that’s been in Maureen’s shed all this time. Why, if anything had happened in an air raid the shed could have gone up in flames and taken the house with it, along with your blessed Bessie.’
Bob felt sorry for Alan. ‘We all do it, Sarah love, there’s no harm in a little drop here and there.’
‘Not you as well, Bob Jackson. How can we win a war when men are squirrelling away petrol all over the place?’ Ruby said, giving Bob a stern look. ‘Don’t you all realize this is part of the black market? All the time it is going on you are denying supplies to our troops and the war isn’t being won.’
‘Do you want me to take back the sugar I brought over this morning?’ Bob said as he stirred his tea.
‘I’d best take that packet of tea home as well,’ Sarah said, trying hard not to smile at her nan’s shocked face.
‘Not you as well?’ Ruby said. ‘You’ve really shocked me, Bob and Sarah. Well, I thought you’d been brought up to be honest and not break the law.’
‘Nan, I only bought a packet of tea without asking any questions. We all do it. The stuff is still coming in at the docks despite enemy action. I think of it as a perk of having friends who have friends who can lay their hands on essential items. It’s not as if I stole the Crown Jewels.’
Ruby tutted loudly as she picked up the tea tray and headed indoors.
‘Perhaps it’s best not to mention to your nan where you get the odd packet of tea from in future, Sarah. What she don’t know won’t hurt her,’ Bob said, noticing Sarah’s glum face. ‘Now, young Freda, what about showing us how you can ride up and down the road without Alan sitting behind you? Standing here drinking tea won’t make you a dispatch rider for the Fire Service.’
Freda gingerly pushed the motorbike onto the road and, once seated, turned on the engine. With a quick glance back at Sarah, who gave her a thumbs up sign, she set off, keeping the bike in a straight line, until she reached the top of Alexandra Road. Turning slowly, she headed back down the road before stopping in front of number thirteen. ‘I did it,’ she grinned. ‘Now I don’t feel so bad about telling the Fire Service I can ride a motorbike. Hopefully they’ll allow me to go on their training course to be a dispatch rider. Can I ride Bessie round to the fire station and show them I’m capable of attending the training course?’
Alan grimaced. ‘As long as I’m riding pillion. I don’t want to let Bessie out of my sight for more than a minute.’
Maisie and Sarah were enjoying a rare visit to Mitchell’s tea rooms, across the road from Woolies. ‘It seems an age since we’ve had a chat without some kind of interference. Even the Luftwaffe’s behaving itself for once,’ Sarah said as a waitress in her smart black dress and white frilly apron placed a pot of tea in front of them, along with a plate of rock cakes.
‘Hmm, I’ve seen better cakes from ’ere. There were times when Mitchell’s was the best place for afternoon tea in these parts,’ Maisie said as she lifted one of the rock cakes and dropped it back onto the plate with a heavy thump
. ‘It’s saying something when I could make a better effort than this and provide some better tunes as well.’
Sarah had to agree with her chum. The music being played by four elderly ladies seated in one corner of the tea room was slow and more than dreary. ‘The ladies are doing their best, Maisie. Perhaps you should jump up and give them one of your songs?’
‘Ter be ’onest, I don’t feel up to it, Sarah. I’ve been like a limp lettuce these past weeks.’
‘This war’s dragging us all down, Maisie. What you need is a little break away from Erith. Can David take you away for the weekend?’
‘It’s not that. After all, many people have got it worse than me. At least I get to see my ’usband and I have a job as well as a roof over me ’ead. No, it’s something else.’
Sarah held her breath for a moment, dreading what could be wrong with her friend to have her so down in the dumps. ‘Whatever it is, you can tell me, Maisie. I won’t say a word to anyone, I swear.’
‘I’ve missed me monthlies fer a while and . . .’
Sarah reached across the table and grabbed her friend’s hand. ‘Why, that’s wonderful news, Maisie. Have you been to see Doctor Greyson yet and what has David said? He must be over the moon – he will make such a wonderful father,’ Sarah said as her words of happiness over her friend’s news tumbled out one after the other.
Maisie looked embarrassed. ‘Please don’t get so excited. You’re the first person I’ve told. After last time I don’t want to make a fuss. What if it’s a false alarm or something goes wrong again? I couldn’t bear it . . . I just couldn’t,’ she said, her voice breaking into a small sob as she reached for her cigarettes with a shaking hand.
‘Everything will be fine, Maisie. You weren’t to blame for what happened last time. These things happen. You need to speak to Doctor Greyson first and then tell David. Make an appointment and I’ll come with you. That’s if you want me to?’
Christmas at Woolworths Page 7
