by Pam Weaver
‘And the prince and princess lived happily ever after . . .’
The days didn’t seem nearly as long, with Lena working in the house. Ruby enjoyed her company more and more. They often had a good laugh together, but Lena never took advantage. She maintained the careful demarcation line between employer and employee, although their relationship was relaxed and friendly. It wasn’t long before Ruby found herself sharing things she hadn’t told anyone for years. When Lena asked her about her father, Ruby talked about her difficult years with Nelson and his subsequent death. She also told Lena about the day she’d discovered that her father wasn’t Nelson, but Rex Quinn.
Lena was a good listener, but said little about her own background or her past. It was never glaringly obvious, but when Ruby sat down to think about it, she knew nothing about Lena’s private life.
‘Where did you grow up?’ They were stripping the beds after a guest had left.
‘Oh, I’m a country girl,’ said Lena. ‘I’m used to early mornings and hearing the cows right under my bedroom window on their way to be milked.’
They each tucked a piece of clean sheet under the mattress. Ruby picked up the top sheet and shook it out, ready to pull it over. ‘Sounds intriguing,’ she said.
‘My relations were all country folk,’ said Lena. ‘Uncomplicated. Ordinary.’
The top sheet was tucked in and they tackled the blanket.
‘I remember once that our neighbour, Mrs Salt, told my mother that her daughter was getting ideas above her station,’ Lena went on. ‘It turned out that she was horrified that her daughter wanted a clean plate for her pudding instead of – and this is what she said – “turning her dinner plate upside down, like decent folks do”.’
They both laughed and, by the time the counterpane was straightened, the bed was made. It wasn’t until later that Ruby realized she still didn’t know where Lena came from.
Now that Eric had gained more confidence, he decided to get a second job. He would use his evenings and his day off to garden. His own vegetable plot had given him an appetite to be out in the open, and there were always people desperate for others to work their unruly gardens. Soon after he made the decision, he spotted a card in the newsagent’s window:
Gardener required.
Four hours a week. Richmond Road.
Good rates of pay.
Contact Worthing 392.
Richmond Road was ideal. It was only a stone’s throw from their house and would probably only take a ten-minute walk to get there. Eric lost no time in applying for the job.
* * *
If her heartache over Jim wasn’t enough to worry about, Ruby – along with everyone else in the country – lived in fear of another war. People talked about peace, politicians travelled abroad in search of peace, but it seemed that the country was moving inexorably towards another conflict. In May, Neville Chamberlain had become Prime Minister, and in June the Duke of Windsor, as Edward VIII was now known, had married his Wallis Simpson at the Château de Candé. There had been a terrible coal-mining disaster in Staffordshire, and an Act of Parliament had added insanity and desertion as legitimate causes for divorce. Ruby had sighed. What about withholding conjugal rights? If she were a man, she had no doubt she could get a divorce for that, but what would the world think if a woman complained of the same thing? Could she go that far? Probably not, because the thought of such a thing getting into the papers as salacious gossip was too much to bear.
The TWG fair that her mother had organized was on Saturday. Ruby knew how tirelessly Bea had worked, first to get the thing off the ground and then to make sure everyone knew exactly what they were doing. Ruby was looking forward to it and had saved a little money to splash out on the day.
At the last meeting before the TWG craft sale, Ruby had helped her mother iron out the few remaining problems.
‘Of course,’ Bea told her daughter, ‘Effie will be looking after our celebrity guests. She has a wonderful way with people. It’s a gift.’
Ruby made no comment. From what Bea said, Effie was meticulous with her instructions, anxious that everything reflected well on her. Anyway, Ruby was proud of her mother’s achievements.
‘I’m thinking of getting my booklets printed,’ Ruby said as they packed up. ‘Where do you get the stuff printed for the TWG?’
‘Caxton Printers,’ said Bea. ‘It’s in Portland Road. They are very reasonable.’
CHAPTER 16
The print shop was halfway down Portland Road, opposite the Christ Church hall where Cousin Lily and Nick had held their wedding reception. It was small, with a deep step going down into the shop. The bell jangled as Ruby opened the door. The whole place had a rather cluttered feel. A Quaker Oats tin overflowing with pens stood on the small counter next to the cash drawer. A dirty cup and saucer gathered mould beside it. The only sound, a mellow tick, came from a large wooden clock on the wall in front of her, and the whole place smelled of machinery and ink. Ruby was tempted to sit in the customer chair beside the counter and look at the posters lining the walls, but as usual she was in a hurry. Somewhere in the back she heard the distant sound of machinery starting up.
Absent-mindedly putting her handbag on the counter, Ruby picked up a small booklet and leafed through the pages. This was just the sort of thing she wanted, although considerably smaller. She scanned the back for a price, but there didn’t appear to be one. She looked around. No one was coming. There was a brass bell on the counter. Should she use it?
The posters on the walls were obviously samples of past work. One advertised Cobham’s Flying Circus, an exciting air show that was popular along the south coast in summer; another was for Billy Butlin’s ‘Centre of Happiness’ in Bognor; and there was one extolling the virtues of ‘Sunny Worthing’. There was also a more up-to-date poster, advertising Oswald Mosley’s forthcoming visit. After the Battle of Cable Street in October 1936, when 5,000 Fascists were prevented from marching through the Jewish quarter of the East End of London, Ruby had hoped that enthusiasm for Mosley and his crew might have been quelled. It might have been dampened down in the rest of the country, but Worthing was still a hotbed for Mosley’s followers and clearly the man was nowhere near finished yet. As she stared at those small, piercing eyes and the proud, jutting jaw, Ruby gave an involuntary shudder.
‘Hello, Ruby.’
She spun round and came face-to-face with Bob Knight. As normal, his dazzling smile totally disarmed her. He was in his shirt sleeves. His biceps bulged under the rolled-up material and his chest was slightly exposed. She couldn’t help staring at the dark, curly hair and glistening skin.
‘What can I do for you?’
She blinked like a flustered schoolgirl. ‘Um . . . I . . .’
Wiping his hands on a piece of rag, he came a little closer. She could smell his warm body and the printer’s ink. ‘It’s lovely to see you again,’ he said, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing her. ‘It’s not often you come into my shop.’
‘I’ve never been in your shop before,’ she said.
Her voice was breathy and she hoped he couldn’t hear her heart pounding. This was embarrassing. She hadn’t expected him to be here. She had no idea he was a printer. She should have asked him what he did for a living when they’d danced at Cousin Lily’s wedding. If she had done so, she could have spared herself this meeting. There were plenty of other printing shops in Worthing.
‘I was wanting to enquire about getting a booklet printed,’ she went on. ‘I don’t have a clue how much it will cost and I may not be able to afford it, but my sister-in-law suggested I find out. It takes forever to copy it all out by hand. I’ve already done six copies and I can’t bear the thought of doing it all over again.’ She was gabbling and she knew it. Her heart was still racing and she was acutely aware of how close together they were standing. She glanced up at Bob’s face and her heart lurched.
‘Would you like to show me the booklet?’ His voice was soft and sensual.
Ruby felt her face
flush. Her fingers were trembling as she reached into her bag and drew it out.
He took it from her and began to flip through the pages. ‘I don’t see that this will be a problem,’ he said. ‘I can probably get it all on one sheet of paper. How many copies would you require?’
Ruby stared at him with a blank expression. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. A few.’
He laughed. ‘It’ll work out cheaper if you take fifty or more.’
‘Fifty it is then,’ she said, regaining her composure.
They discussed paper and size, and the cost, which Ruby was surprised to learn was less than she’d expected.
‘They’ll be ready in a week.’ Bob smiled that disarming smile and she looked away quickly. As she reached the door he said, ‘Don’t forget your bag.’
Ruby paused. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to fetch her bag but, as she did so, she turned awkwardly on the steep step. The next thing she knew, she was falling. He rushed to save her, but it was too late.
‘Don’t get up too quickly,’ he cautioned as Ruby landed on the floor. ‘Get your breath back. Take your time. Does anything hurt?’
‘My ankle,’ she said weakly. ‘It hurts like mad.’
He covered her ankle with his warm hand. ‘May I?’ Ruby watched as he examined it expertly. ‘I don’t think anything is broken, but it looks as if you’re going to get one hell of a bruise.’ He helped her to her feet. ‘Can you put weight on it?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Ruby, anxious more than ever to get going. She got up, but when she tried to walk, she cried out in pain.
‘Sit on the chair,’ he said, ‘and slip off your stocking. I’ll go and get some cold water.’
Obediently she did as he said, and moments later he was back with a small enamel bowl of water and a towel. The water was soothing as he gently splashed her throbbing ankle.
‘I think I’d better strap it up for you,’ Bob said. ‘If it swells up, you may not be able to get your shoe on.’
He left her again and reappeared with a bandage. Ruby could hardly breathe as he laid her wet foot on the towel on his lap and gently patted it dry. He bandaged her foot expertly, cutting the end of the bandage in half and carefully tying it around the top of her ankle. She could immediately feel the support.
When he had finished, he looked up at her. ‘How’s that?’
The electricity between them was palpable.
‘I think you know how I feel about you, Ruby,’ he said quietly.
She became acutely aware of her foot still resting in his lap, and his warm hand was on her calf.
‘Bob, don’t.’ He moved his hand until it was touching her knee. She shivered with excitement. Don’t kiss me, she thought. Please don’t kiss me or I am undone.
He stood to his feet and took her hand. ‘Can you stand on it now?’
She rose to her feet. They were standing so close together. Too close. She kept her head down as she tried to put weight on her foot. It still hurt, but the bandage definitely helped.
I can probably manage to hobble home, Ruby thought. ‘Thanks,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine now.’
She looked up at him and suddenly his lips were on hers, warm and sensual. Her pulse began to race again. Her knees felt like jelly. A small voice in her head reminded her: You’re a married woman . . . But an even louder voice drowned it out: Don’t stop. It’s just a kiss. Only a kiss . . .
‘Come into the office,’ he said. ‘You can rest your foot for a bit.’
They both knew that if she went into the office, it wouldn’t be to rest her foot, but Ruby allowed him to help her all the same. Bob stopped only to shoot the bolt over the shop door and then, with his strong arm around her waist for support, they moved slowly into the little office at the back. Once they were inside, he kicked the door shut behind them.
Ruby’s first impression was one of chaos. There was a desk awash with papers, and pamphlets in piles on every surface, including the windowsills; and the drawers to the filing cabinet were open and bulging with stuffed paper files. There was an old-fashioned couch under the window covered in bits and pieces – paper, a coat, some used rags. Bob let go of Ruby and, with one deft move, swept everything aside. The papers fell in a haphazard way, littering the floor, then he lowered her down. As Ruby looked up at him, he cupped her face gently in his hands and began to kiss her. She knew she should stop him, but it was delicious and she hadn’t been kissed for so long. Bob was so passionate that she could hardly draw breath and the longer she let him do it, the harder it became to stop him. It was exciting. He was so powerful and eager. All reason and restraint went out of the window. She was becoming aroused. So was he.
When he lay her down, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She felt her skirt going up, but she hardly knew how her panties came off. She made a small protest – ‘Don’t . . .’ – but they both knew she didn’t mean it. He paused for a minute, as if giving her time to push him away, but instead she relaxed and parted her legs. Then his fingers were probing her and the only thought in her head was ‘Don’t stop.’ They looked each other in the eye as he mounted and entered her, gliding in on a sea of expectation and excitement.
‘Oh, darlin’,’ he breathed. ‘You are so lovely . . .’
He was an expert lover, moving slowly and with such control, careful to give her as much pleasure as he was getting himself. She was aware of every move he made, licking her raised nipple, then kissing her mouth; breathing her name in her ear, then raising and cupping her buttocks so that he slipped even further in. Closing her eyes, Ruby let him create a rhythm between their bodies that carried her to some exotic pleasure paradise, where every touch only served to bring her to a more acutely sensual place. Her body felt more alive than it had ever done. The sensation became more and more fantastic as he thrust deeper and harder. At last she cried out and came, a split second before he did, so that the pulsating of his member kept them both at the point of ecstasy for some wonderfully delicious seconds.
Spent and satisfied, he became a dead weight on top of her. Ruby tried to push him off, but she was pinned down until Bob could gather enough strength to lift himself from her. Staring at the stained paper on the ceiling made what they had just done seem dirty and sordid. Oh Lord . . . what had she done? She should have stopped him. He’d given her the chance to push him away, but she’d egged him on. And now she’d been unfaithful. She was an adulteress.
He leaned up on one elbow and smiled. ‘Well, Ruby Searle. You’re quite some gal, ain’t you?’ He kissed her cheek; not the tender kiss of a lover, the smacker he planted there made her feel cheap and used. Bob pulled himself to his feet and stood up, tucking his member inside his trousers and doing up his flies. Ruby reached for her own underwear and sat up. As she pulled her panties on, he tucked his shirt into his waistband and grinned at her in an over-familiar way.
‘Never expected someone like you to ’ave such tasty panties,’ he smirked.
Ruby burned with shame. ‘I don’t usually behave like this,’ she said haughtily.
‘Of course not, darlin’,’ he said. ‘Bloody good, though, wasn’t it?’
Ruby’s eyes smarted.
‘Now don’t look at me like that, sugar,’ he said, cupping her chin in his hand. ‘You were gagging for it as much as I was.’
She batted his hand away angrily. ‘Shut up. Shut up.’
Bob pulled the braces over his shoulders. ‘Have it your own way, but I bet that cold fish of a husband never gave you a good time like that.’
‘I happen to love my husband,’ she retorted.
‘Suits me, gal,’ he said with a shrug, ‘but everybody could do with a little bit of fun now and then. Don’t take life so seriously.’
Somebody tried the shop door and then knocked on the glass.
Bob ran his fingers through his untidy hair. ‘Better go. Customer. Take your time, darlin’, no hurry.’
As he left the room,
Ruby leaned forward on the couch and put her head in her hands. She wanted desperately to cry, but at the same time she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction – he might think what just happened mattered. He had used her, hadn’t he? Taken advantage of her predicament. If he hadn’t been so damned nice, she wouldn’t have . . . She closed her eyes despairingly. Oh God, what had she done?
She heard Bob slide the bolt back on the shop door and then he said, ‘Hello, darlin’. What can I do for you?’
Ruby put on her stocking on her good leg. All she wanted was to get out of this sordid place as quickly as possible.
‘I should like to order a couple more wedding invitations,’ said a very familiar voice.
Ruby’s head jerked up. It was Edith Parsons. She felt sick. Oh Lord, she mustn’t let Edith find her here. Whatever would she think? With a trembling hand, she tidied her hair.
‘We seem to have forgotten some relatives who simply can’t be missed out,’ Edith was saying.
‘Oh dear,’ said Bob, in his usual easy way, ‘we can’t have that, can we? You don’t want to start a second world war, do you?’
Edith chuckled. Ruby could hear Bob rustling papers.
Suddenly Edith said, ‘Isn’t that Ruby Searle’s handbag?’
Ruby held her breath.
‘I’m afraid it is,’ said Bob in a contrite tone. ‘Mrs Searle was just leaving the shop when she fell down the step. I had to take her into the back room and bandage her ankle. That’s why the door was locked.’
‘Oh, my goodness,’ cried Edith. ‘How bad is it?’
‘She says it’s very painful,’ said Bob. ‘I’m thinking I may have to take her home.’
‘In here?’ said Edith, and the next minute she was in the back room. Ruby was fully dressed and lying back on the couch with her bandaged foot over the armrest. She had her hand across her eyes. ‘Oh, Roob,’ Edith exclaimed, ‘you poor thing. Can you walk?’
Ruby pulled herself up. ‘I hope so,’ she said weakly, ‘but now that it’s bandaged I can’t get my shoe on. Such a silly accident.’
