‘Shut up, you cow.’
Ruby blinked hard and pretended she was concentrating on the driving, but in fact she was back to her sixteen-year-old self …
‘Here you are, young lady. This is to be your room for the time being until …’ Leonora Wheaton paused. ‘Well, until things have happened and you can go back to wherever it is you want to go. You can put your suitcase in and unpack it later.’
She opened the door and stood back so that Ruby could see inside. The room was a basic but comfortable guest room with everything she would need. It didn’t have the frills and extras that her room at the Wheatons’ house had, but it also wasn’t as bad as she had been anticipating.
‘During your time here I expect you to obey my rules, the rules of the hotel, and you must respect the cover story we have prepared for you,’ Leonora continued. ‘You are eighteen years old. You are a war widow, a distant relation of mine, and I’m looking after you. If any of my visiting ladies ask you questions, then that’s all the information you give them. I don’t want to be encouraging any more lies and deceit than is necessary.’
‘Yes, Aunt Leonora,’ Ruby responded meekly, addressing the woman the way she had been briefed. The last place she wanted to be was tucked away in a genteel, ladies only hotel on the seafront in Southend, but she could see that as a pregnant and unmarried sixteen year old her options were limited if she wanted to avoid the shame of anyone knowing.
‘Now, don’t you be too hard on her,’ Babs Wheaton said to her sister-in-law while at the same time smiling encouragingly at Ruby. ‘She’s a good girl who’s done something silly and regrets it. We’re going to leave her here in your capable hands, but we’ll be back to visit and we’ll keep in touch by telephone. I know you’ll look after her.’
‘I’m expecting her to pull her weight, you know. I’ve not got any room for slackers in my hotel or my flat.’
‘As I said, Leonora, Ruby is a good girl, and we know she’ll do whatever you ask her to.’ Babs smiled encouragingly at the woman who was going to look after Ruby, and then passed them each an envelope. ‘Here’s the money for her keep for the month, and Ruby, this is your spending money for the month. I know you’ll be sensible with it, and when we see you next month we’ll—’
‘I don’t need it,’ Ruby interrupted. ‘I’m going to work here to earn my keep.’
‘I know, dear, but just in case. Now, George is waiting downstairs so I have to love you and leave you, but we’ll see you really soon. You stay here because I need a quiet word with Aunt Leonora before we leave. Be good and take care of yourself.’
Babs Wheaton gave the still bewildered girl a brief but warm hug, and then disappeared down the stairs with Leonora before there was time for tears or protestations.
There really was no other choice for young Ruby Blakeley; she was going to have to stay where she was.
Leonora Wheaton was a middle-aged spinster who looked, and sometimes acted, like the stereotypical old dragon. As she was George Wheaton’s sister, Ruby had met her a couple of times during her evacuation; she had taken little notice then, but now it was different. Not only did Ruby have no choice but to take notice of the woman, she was actually going to live with her and work for her for the duration.
However, despite dreading the changes she knew were about to happen in her life, she had no choice but to agree.
Momentarily left alone in the flat on the top floor of the hotel which Leonora herself owned and ran almost single-handed, Ruby was all too aware that there was no place for any self-pity, so she deliberately blinked away the tears and stamped down her bubbling emotions. Unsure what she was supposed to do at that point, she walked over to the centre of the dated sitting room and looked around, taking in everything around her before going over to the full-length French windows that opened on to a small balcony.
The windows were already ajar, so she slid through and looked over the wrought iron railings at the vista that was Southend seafront on an autumnal Sunday. There were families walking along the promenade and children walking along on the edge of the water, which was lapping the high tide mark. There was also an array of small vessels bobbing about on the estuary, and the sight soothed her a little. If she was going to have to live somewhere strange then Southend itself looked OK, even if life with a spinster aunt might be daunting.
She looked down and saw the Wheatons’ car pulling away from the pavement outside. They didn’t look up, but she waved nonetheless.
Another chapter in her short life was about to begin.
For most of the drive down to Southend Ruby felt as if she was talking to herself. She tried hard to engage with Maggie, but after her initial outburst the girl had retreated back into silence, and Ruby was at a loss. It took all her willpower not to scream and cry herself, but she knew she had to remain calm because amid it all she was constantly aware that she was the adult and it wasn’t Maggie’s fault. She absolutely understood her daughter’s confusion and anger, but still she found it hard when she was under constant emotional assault. Every poisonous verbal blow which Maggie threw hurt her almost physically and battered her down even more.
From the moment ten-day-old Maggie had been taken to Melton by the Wheatons, while she herself stayed in Southend with Leonora, Ruby had been sure that one day her daughter would know who she was. It was the one single thought that had made the adoption bearable, and then when she had eventually got together properly with Johnnie Riordan, Maggie’s father, it had become a fantasy she used to play over and over in her mind in the middle of the night. That one day they would visit the Wheatons and Maggie would know they were more than just family friends.
Then when Johnnie’s two sons from his previous marriage had moved in with them and their son Russell had been born, Ruby’s maternal feelings had intensified. It hurt her that Maggie had a full-blood brother she didn’t know as a brother, and it hurt that she couldn’t tell Russell about his older sister. But then the day had come, and instead of them all being one big happy family Maggie hated them all with a passion.
‘Here we are,’ Ruby said as cheerily as she could muster as they pulled up outside the Riordan family home in Thorpe Bay. It was a large detached house in a side road just off the seafront, and although Maggie had visited it with her parents in the past she was now looking at it with new eyes. She was going to live there.
Visually, it wasn’t unlike the house in Melton, and Maggie wondered fleetingly if that’s why Ruby had chosen it. ‘You do know I’m not going to look after your bloody kids while you’re at the hotel. I’m not going to be the cheap live-in nanny.’
‘Wherever did you get that idea?’ Ruby asked.
‘Alison. She said I’d end up as your skivvy.’
‘Well, I don’t care what she said, that’s nonsense; you’re going back to school.’
‘I’m bloody well not. Oh no. I told you, I’m not going to school ever again, not unless it’s back at my own school. I’ll go back to school if I go back to Melton.’
Ruby knew that standing on the pavement outside the house wasn’t the right place for the conversation, so she took a leaf out of her daughter’s book and simply shrugged.
‘I’m not!’ Maggie continued.
‘I heard you.’ Ruby said a silent prayer as the other two cars pulled up. ‘Time to start the unpacking,’ she said as she climbed out of the car and opened the boot.
‘Bugger off, bitch,’ Maggie said. She then jumped out of the car herself and walked off in the direction of the seafront.
It was three hours later, once everyone was starting to panic, when she marched in. ‘Where’s my room? I’m going to bed.’
That night, Ruby realized that task ahead of them was going to be harder than anything she and Johnnie had ever been through before.
Nine
Six months later
Maggie Wheaton hopped from foot to foot to keep warm as she waited impatiently on the platform at Southend station for the next train to arrive. Three had
already been and gone since the time Andy had said he would be there, and she was starting to panic that he wasn’t going to turn up despite his promise. She was just about to turn and go home when the next train pulled in, and he jumped off and loped down the platform towards her with a cheery wave.
‘Mag, wotcha!’ he shouted from a distance. ‘Sorry I’m late. The bloody underground in the rush hour was like sardines in a can!’
As he smiled, all the feelings she already had for him instantly increased, especially when she saw other girls on the platform eyeing him up and down appreciatively. There was no getting away from the fact that he was a very handsome young man. His hair was longer than when she last saw him and now flopped attractively across his forehead. He also looked considerably taller and much older; so much so that she was quite taken aback. The collar on his fashionable three quarter length coat was turned up, and his hands were tucked deep in his pockets, the familiar navy blue duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
Maggie had kept her hair in rollers the night before and then taken ages in the morning brushing her long blonde hair to a shine, backcombing it around the crown and flicking it up around her shoulders the way she’d seen in the magazines. She just wanted to look sophisticated and trendy for Andy. She took the same approach with her make-up and clothes; she’d carefully applied her make-up to make it look subtle and had tried her best to choose an outfit that was dressy without looking as if she’d dressed up especially for him. After trying on nearly every item of clothing she possessed, she’d settled on a black straight skirt which was very tight over the hips and just touched her knees, low pointed heels and a black roll-neck sweater which made her hair look even blonder. She topped it with a cream swing coat which she left casually unbuttoned, but she still felt young and gawky in front of him.
She didn’t notice that while the girls who had come off the train were watching Andy, the young men were looking at her appreciatively.
‘Hi, Andy. I thought for a minute there that you weren’t going to turn up,’ she said almost shyly.
As he got up close he put his arm around her waist and pulled her in to him before kissing her on the cheek. ‘I wouldn’t stand you up, baby.’ He stood back and looked at her. ‘Wow, you’re looking cool, really cool. I love the new hairstyle.’
Maggie was surprised at his ready use of Americanisms but quickly decided it was because he worked in the music business. ‘Where do you want to go? We could go to the coffee bar down the high street?’ she asked quickly to hide the strange shyness she felt rising up.
‘I want to see the famous seafront – I haven’t been to Southend since I was a kid – and I want to see your new home. Oh, and the hotel. Life by the sea as lived by Miss Maggie Wheaton.’ He laughed out loud.
‘Are you taking the mick?’ she asked defensively. ‘This isn’t funny.’
He stopped laughing. ‘Of course I’m not; don’t be so touchy. I’ve brought records for you, does that help?’ He pulled the bag off his shoulder and showed her what was inside. ‘Look, I come bearing gifts for the most beautiful girl in town.’
‘Oh, thanks, Andy,’ she said, her irritation quickly forgotten. ‘I wanted some more, but my pocket money has been cut to try and make me behave! How can they cut your pocket money when it’s your money in the first place?’
‘Dunno, but I do know I spoke to Dad about the guardianship and everything. I’ll fill you in on the details later,’ he said. ‘So, how about going to yours?’
‘There’s nothing there.’
‘Oh, come on, I just want to be able to picture where you are when I think about you. A coffee bar is hardly right …’
Maggie really didn’t want to take him back to the house, but in the time it took to walk out of the station she had given in to his charm offensive. ‘OK, OK, but I don’t want to stop there. I want to show you round the parts here where I go, the parts that aren’t all day-trippers with hankies on their heads eating toffee apples. Yuk.’ She shivered dramatically for effect. ‘Not that there are many around this time of year. They’re not as hardy as some of the locals who think it’s clever to take a dip every day.’
When Andy took hold of her hand as they walked out of the station and down to the bus stop, she savoured the feeling of togetherness, of being close to someone again. She missed the close and tactile relationship she had always had with her parents. She missed her mother sweeping her in for a hug just for the sake of it, and she missed her father gently telling her she was the brightest and prettiest girl in the village. ‘My beautiful daughter,’ he’d say. ‘If you reach for the stars you’ll be able to touch them. Easy-peasy.’
The parents who weren’t her parents, the parents who had lied to her all her life, the parents she had single-handedly killed.
Maggie had, from a very young age, been self-assured and confident, because she had been brought up to believe she could achieve anything she wanted, but most importantly she had always felt loved and respected.
Now all of that had been taken away from her. She didn’t know who she was any more, and she had no one neutral she could talk to. Even Alison, her best friend in Melton, had pulled away and stopped keeping in touch, and it hurt. It seemed to Maggie as if everyone was on Ruby’s side.
Apart from her beloved Andy.
On the phone and in letters he had become her confidant, and she found herself becoming more and more dependent on him. It helped her feel less emotionally isolated, but nothing was the same as it had been in Melton with her mother and father, her school friends and the camaraderie of village life.
‘It’s not that bad here, is it? I was expecting some kind of seaside hovel with sticky floors and candy floss stuck to the windows, the way you talked about it.’ Andy Blythe grinned as he stood on the bottom stair and glanced around the big old house in Thorpe Bay, which was just around the corner from the Thamesview Hotel.
‘You’re joking, aren’t you? I hate it. It’s bad enough with Ruby and Johnnie pretending to be Mummy and Daddy, but then there’s the three brats. And Gracie and Edward are forever on the doorstep with their kid. It’s like a bloody orphanage. Martin and Paul aren’t Ruby’s, Fay isn’t Edward’s, and I’m …’ She paused as she struggled to keep her composure. ‘Well, me, I’m just nobody. There are aunts and uncles and cousins and even grandmothers I know nothing about and, as far as I know, they know nothing about me. I’m just the bastard Ruby swapped for a hotel.’
‘Haven’t you been to meet your real family yet, then?’ Andy looked genuinely shocked by her latest admission. ‘If they’re your family, you should. I mean, they are family, aren’t they? Even if you didn’t know it before.’
‘Not a chance. They won’t want to meet me, and I sure as hell don’t want to meet any of them. I’m not one of them. I’m a Wheaton! And, anyway, they mostly live in London.’
‘Well, that’s not far away, is it? Look at me; I’m here from London, and I’m going back this afternoon,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Have you thought about a family tree? It might help you make sense of it.’
Maggie felt the tears threatening. ‘That is such a nice thing to say.’
Andy wandered around the house with Maggie behind him, looking in rooms and out of windows.
The house, which was about the same size as the Melton house, had been tastefully furnished and decorated, but it was still homely – although much more crowded. Because she worked at the hotel, Ruby had employed a daily help, Isobel, who did anything that needed doing and was there most days. Maggie didn’t mind the woman, who was always jolly and willing, but she had crossed her fingers that she would be out shopping on the Broadway as she usually was at that time of day, and she was right. The house was empty. She didn’t want Ruby and Johnnie knowing about Andy’s visit. In fact, she didn’t want them knowing anything about her at all. Maggie was just biding her time in purgatory until she could get away from them and never see them again. Her resentment of them was eating away at her constantly.
&nb
sp; ‘It’s not a bad house,’ Andy said. ‘And it’s big enough for you to keep out of their way. And you’ve got the seafront just around the corner. I bet it’s a really interesting place to be, especially in the summer; better than boring old Melton with the same old happenings every sodding day.’ He peered out of the French windows into the garden. ‘God, I hate that bloody place. I’d have hung myself by now if I didn’t get to spend half my time in London. Melton’s all so … I don’t know. Incestuous, Mum calls it. Cousins marrying each other and all that other weird village stuff like—’
‘That’s such rubbish! I love Melton,’ Maggie interrupted him defensively. ‘I was brought up there, all my friends are there and it was my home until I was dragged to this dump.’
‘You can’t love it. There’s nothing to love because there’s nothing to do, and I’m only there at weekends! You’re just being all nostalgic because you don’t want to be here. You can make new friends here if you want to. That’s what I had to do in Melton.’
‘You’re so horrible sometimes. It was easy for you; everyone wanted to be your friend because you’d moved into the Manor House. I’m just the local bastard,’ she said, shaking her head at him.
‘That’s silly. No one knows anything here, and you don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.’
‘Horrible …’
‘And you’re horrible back. I’m just telling the truth, and you know it. You can’t change what’s happened, so why not make the best of it? My parents have moved so many times …’
‘Yes, but you moved as a family. This is just me and a house full of people I don’t even really know.’
Maggie could feel the tears welling up once again. So many different things would trigger the tears, and no one seemed to understand how depressed she felt. How much she just didn’t want to be around; she didn’t even want to live most of the time. Sometimes when she lay awake in the middle of the night thinking about everything that had happened, she just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up again. She would lie in her bed and plot how she would end the nightmare that her life had become. Nothing could shake her out of her personal hell, not even Andy Blythe.
Maggie Page 10
