by Carol Rivers
‘Then I’ll fetch it and we’ll go back to the bedsit to read it.’
Bernie frowned. ‘Still feel it’s a liberty,’ he muttered, but all the same he paid for the coffee and followed her outside onto the icy street.
‘It’s taters in here. I’ll bung a bob in the meter.’ Bernie dug in his pocket for a shilling and returned to the table where Ruby was sitting, shivering.
‘There might be a bit of paraffin left in the heater,’ Ruby said hopefully.
Bernie lit the ancient appliance and slowly the oily wick flickered and flared into action. ‘What does it say?’ he asked as he looked over her shoulder.
‘Come and read for yourself.’
He slumped down on the chair, rubbing his hands for warmth. ‘A diary’s supposed to be private.’
‘How else are we going to find out about Pete?’
Bernie stared at the diary.
‘For goodness’ sake, it ain’t going to bite you.’ Ruby opened the pages of the well-thumbed exercise book. He saw Pete’s handwriting, neat and bold with commas and full stops into the bargain. That was Pete all over. He was the clever one, always quoting bits from books and coming out with surprising facts.
‘Read it,’ Ruby said, her elbows on the table and her eyes fixed on his face. ‘I want to hear what his voice sounds like.’
He stared into her clear hazel eyes. ‘Hey, come on, gel, you’re giving me the creeps.’
‘Go on, just try.’
Bernie heaved in a breath. He knew he was going to do what she asked. But it was unnerving.“ ‘Jan 4 1950. Today R. Westminster, then Harrow. Will call Joanie later.” ’
‘So who do you think Joanie is?’ Ruby said.
Bernie shrugged. ‘Never had the pleasure.’
‘Turn over. She’s mentioned again.’
‘ “Collect suit a.m. Barber’s. Full works this time. Joanie likes me smooth as a baby’s bottom.” ’ Bernie chuckled. ‘Christ, Pete must have fancied her something rotten.’
‘But who is she?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes, course it does,’ Ruby insisted. ‘She might be able to tell us something.’
‘Does it say any more about her?’
‘Read for yourself.’
‘ “Mr R to the House of Commons today. Collect clients from Heathrow. Tight bastards. No tips.” And this, by a WC, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” What did he mean by that?’
‘Don’t know.’
Bernie didn’t want to read any more. It was depressing. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’
‘What do you suggest, then?’
‘Let sleeping dogs lie.’
‘Bernie, answer me straight,’ Ruby demanded, giving him a stern look, ‘does this sound like your best friend and my brother talking? Or rather, writing? Who is this Joanie he never told us about?’
‘Dunno.’
Ruby gave out a long sigh. ‘I don’t really blame him for not telling me about her. I think he wanted to make certain Joanie was his girl. One thing I do know, he was happy. He had a smile on his face as wide as Greenwich Reach. So why would he do something silly like taking all them aspirin?’
‘What if this Joanie gave him the elbow?’ Bernie suggested. ‘So he got down in the doldrums and wrote that bit about going through hell.’
‘Then he went drinking and bought the pills,’ Ruby continued. ‘But he never meant to take so many. Just enough to take the edge off his heartache.’
‘Aspirin don’t cure heartache.’
‘No, course not. But it was just a gesture.’
‘True. This Joanie could have had him by the—’ Bernie corrected himself. ‘Specially if he’d fallen hard.’
‘Oh, why didn’t he tell me?’ Ruby wailed miserably.
‘Because you’re all screwed up when you’re ditched,’ Bernie said knowingly. ‘Trust me. I’ve had a few rejections in my time. And then you find out there’s another face in the frame. You ain’t sensible about it. You’re either bloody mad, or depressed. Which, it turns out, he was.’
Ruby nodded slowly. ‘Poor Pete. Joanie must have hurt him badly.’
Bernie sighed. ‘Don’t suppose we’ll ever know the half of it.’
And don’t want to, Bernie thought to himself. In his own private opinion, Pete was too canny to go in for all that female drama. Rather, he’d moved up in the world, obsessed with making it big, and mixing with a dodgy crowd, Arabs, Russians and Chinese. Mr R kept him busy earning his wedge. And though Pete had only ever hinted at it, never actually said, there were a few A listers too from closer to home. Every one of them with fingers in Mr R’s dodgy pie. As for being in love with this Joanie, Bernie couldn’t see that at all. It was the old bees and honey Pete lusted after.
‘So now we know,’ Bernie said, hoping to put an end to further speculation. ‘You can put the book back.’
But Ruby was shaking her head. ‘No, it’s all I’ve got of his.’
‘Yeah, but Pete never meant it to be read.’
‘Not when he was alive, no.’
‘You’re too hung up on this Joanie.’
‘So what if I am?’ Ruby argued. ‘She was a big part of his life that he kept secret.’
Bernie rolled his eyes. ‘Look, Pete was a good-looking bloke. He mixed with the toffs. He was bound to have a girl. And this girl, well, she might not have been your sort.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean, there are chicks and chicks. Birds you take home to meet the family and others you don’t. So let’s say they had a tiff. Maybe they’d had a few. We don’t know why, but it’s enough to send Pete on a bender. So he takes an aspirin for his hangover – first thing you bung down your throat when your head’s splitting. But your brother is hungover and can’t get rid of this damn pain, so he takes more. And what happens? He’s topped himself. The poor bugger don’t know it, but he has. This much we’ve worked out. Reading through this book ain’t gonna reverse the fact that Pete didn’t want you or me to know what he was doing. If he’d wanted to tell you about Joanie, he would have, right? So put the book back where you found it, Ruby. Where Pete meant it to be.’
Ruby glared at him. ‘How can I? I want to know who she is.’ Tears glistened in her eyes and Bernie knew he wasn’t going to get through to her today. He’d have to leave it for now. Hope she’d forget.
‘All right, all right,’ he conceded. ‘What do you want me to do?’
Ruby sniffed back her tears. ‘Just ask around, that’s all.
See if any of his old mates knew anything. Knew her.’
Bernie nodded, although Pete didn’t have any old mates, did he? He was even thinking of changing his name, hated any reminder of who he’d once been. He’d moved on, shunned his roots. And had been in the process of shunning me, Bernie thought morosely, except I wouldn’t let go.
Ruby reached out and touched his hand. ‘Thanks, Bernie.’
‘Don’t get excited. I dunno where half of our old pals are.’
‘No, but you might turn up something.’
‘I’ll do me best.’
‘Look, if you want to drive me back to Anna’s, we could have a drink on the way.’ She smiled and looked into his eyes in the way that she knew melted his heart. ‘It would be nice. Like old times.’
It would be, he thought, if she wanted to be with him for the right reasons. His reasons. But he knew better than to hope for a miracle. He knew she was seeing a bloke, not just seeing, but crazy over, so Kath had told him. And he knew who he was. The geezer from Fortuno’s who’d fronted up to him that night. Well, what was he going to do about it? he’d asked himself a hundred times. Sod all, that was what. It was her choice, not his.
While she put the diary back in her bag, Bernie turned off the heater. As he did so, he had a gut feeling he’d never set foot in here again. As soon as he was shot of the bedsit, he was going for that terrace. A little house with a small garden. Quiet families either side
who didn’t live up the pub and create bedlam every Saturday night.
There was another life out there for him. A girl he had to find, a family to rear. A wife and kids he could call his own. A family who would love him and stick by him. Just as he had loved and stuck by Ruby.
Like Ruby had said, it was time to make changes.
Chapter Fifteen
Ruby left the small shop in Frazer Street, pleased to see the Buick waiting for her on the other side of the road. She was wearing a light wool suit of black and white, black patent high heels and a small black hat that she had been given as a perk by the shop manageress. For March, it was still chilly but the freeze was over and the two-piece suit was summer weight. She would soon be in the warmth of the Buick and sitting next to Nick.
Her pulse raced at the thought of seeing him. They had been together almost every Sunday since she’d moved to Anna’s and some weekday nights too. Anna had not commented on this, although Ruby knew that she had been observed climbing into Nick’s car.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he said and kissed her when she got in beside him. ‘Where to?’
She grinned. ‘Anywhere so long as it’s not the Manor.’
He jerked an eyebrow. ‘The Jester?’
‘Yes, I like it there.’
‘That’s settled then.’ He leaned across and kissed her again. ‘Sit back and relax. My, you do smell good.’
‘It’s called Forbidden. Anna gave it to me.’
‘And are you?’
She blushed. ‘Am I what?’
‘Forbidden to see me?’
‘Of course not,’ she said, knowing this was a small lie.
‘Tell me what you did today,’ he said as they drove. ‘How many dresses you wore. And just how much the customers liked you.’
Ruby laughed. ‘How do you know they liked me?’
‘Anyone who didn’t would be out of their minds.’
‘You should come to one of the shows and see for yourself.’
‘Maybe I will.’
Ruby told him about her day. ‘Rule number one is to please the customers,’ she explained as though she’d been a model for years. ‘The next is to show off the garment, indicating the best features. For instance, a roll-neck collar, side pockets or flared skirt. Needless to say the way we walk is important, as if we had a book or two balanced on our heads. My favourite designer is Norman Hartnell who created Queen Elizabeth’s wedding gown.’
Nick turned slightly towards her. ‘I’m thinking of going into the fashion business myself. The rag trade is the one area I’ve never invested in.’ A small smile touched his lips. ‘And you’d be my perfect model.’
Ruby blushed. ‘And I’d love to be your model.’ Nick always said something to make her feel wonderful.
When they arrived at his club, Nick parked the car and helped her out. ‘Hungry?’
‘Very!’
‘That’s what I like about you, Ruby.’
‘What?’ she asked as they walked hand in hand towards the stately building in the heart of London’s West End.
‘You’ll try anything once. You’re a very good sport.’
‘My brother used to tell me how important new experiences were.’
‘Your brother was right.’
Ruby thought of how proud Pete would be if he could see her now. And wouldn’t any girl want to visit such an important place? The Jester Club was very old, Nick had told her. He hadn’t yet taken her to the casino on the top floor but they had visited the bar and restaurant. On the last occasion she had eaten her first Dover sole. The fish had been mouth-watering as was the fragrant wine that Nick chose to go with it.
Nick was always the perfect gentleman; they would end the evening at his flat and enjoy home-brewed coffee. The flat had seemed cold and empty at first, but she had soon brightened the place up. She had arranged vases full of freshly cut flowers and scattered brightly coloured cushions about the place. They kissed and cuddled on the sofa and she knew that one day he would want her to sleep with him. What would she do then? She didn’t want to get pregnant.
Nick’s voice broke into her thoughts as they stood at the bar. ‘Would you like a Tom Collins?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’
Soon a tall glass was placed before her, this cocktail was now her favourite drink: a blend of gin, lemon, sugar and soda mixed with ice, a cherry on a stick and little paper umbrella.
‘You look very lovely tonight,’ Nick told her as they sat in the lounge before dinner.
Ruby thought Nick was the most handsome of all the men in the room. He wore an elegant dark grey suit tonight and his brown hair was trimmed short above his white shirt collar. She was so proud to be with him.
She sipped her cocktail and crossed her legs elegantly. A few men glanced her way, but she hardly took notice.
Who, a year ago, Ruby thought to herself, would ever have guessed she would be dining out in a place like the Jester Club with a man like Nick Brandon?
It was early in April and Ruby was excited to be working with Paula again at Steadman’s. Despite Paula’s intention to give up the stores, she had changed her mind. In part, Ruby suspected, because Steadman’s were Anna’s top clients.
Ruby liked Paula and, since they often worked together, they had become close of late. Now that the evenings were getting lighter they would explore the city: Bond Street, Covent Garden, and eat al fresco at the Dorchester. At lunchtimes, they would enjoy succulent olives with a glass of red wine. Very often, when the weather was fine, they would walk down to the Serpentine to watch the swimmers brave the cold water. Ruby always felt sophisticated and worldly in Paula’s company.
As Ruby gazed into the floor-length mirror of the dressing room, she almost had to pinch herself. Was this reflection really her? A dazzlingly beautiful young woman with spun-gold hair that the stylist had set in a loose bob style, braiding her crown with lemon rosebuds. The pale lilac bridesmaid’s gown was full-skirted and the capped sleeves were embroidered to match the braid on her bodice.
‘You look enchanting,’ Paula told her, attending to the last details of her satin-silk wedding gown with sheer straps attached to a bodice that showed off Paula’s bust to its best under a sweetheart neckline. Ruby liked the simple design. And most stunning of all was the discreet white veil that flowed down to Paula’s shoulders, inset with tiny white pearls.
Paula turned briefly to smile at her. ‘Ready?’
Ruby nodded, feeling very nervous.
They passed the girls just coming off the catwalk. A combined gasp of surprise came from the audience as a shower of confetti rained down from above. The wedding march boomed out from the public address system and everyone rose to their feet. Even the shop assistants had been allowed to watch the show.
Ruby heard the applause as they began their entrance. It seemed much louder than usual.
Her heart raced as she and Paula paused at the end of the long plinth. Mr Steadman had told them that many of the customers were brides-to-be. There was a reception afterwards downstairs where orders would be taken. It rested with her and Paula to show off these gowns to their best, encouraging the young women to buy their wedding dresses from Steadman’s.
Suddenly, as Ruby gazed into the sea of faces, she recognized two in particular. Debbie and Rog were staring up at her, wide-eyed.
Debbie waved her glove. ‘See you after,’ she mouthed as Rog raised his hands in applause.
Ruby beamed them a smile. She felt so very proud.
The show was over and Ruby changed into her own clothes.
‘See you outside,’ called Paula, who was being assisted by Elsie in removing the pins that had secured the wedding dress and veil in place.
Ruby nodded and made her exit. She knew Rog and Debbie would be waiting for her. After the rapturous applause from the audience she was eager to hear their remarks.
Debbie hugged her. ‘You looked amazing, Ruby.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You should ha
ve worn the wedding gown, not the other girl,’ Rog said, giving her a sloppy kiss on her cheek. ‘You’d make a much prettier bride than the redhead.’
‘How did you come to be here?’ Ruby asked.
‘Well, Steadman’s is well known for its bridal wear,’ Debbie said shyly, looking up at Rog.
‘Yes, and the brochure said that the Charnwood-Smythe Agency was modelling the gowns. So we hoped you might be here.’
‘And there is another very special personal reason,’ Rog added as he squeezed Debbie’s waist.
Debbie blushed, looking under her eyes. ‘We’re getting married in August.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ Ruby kissed her friend’s cheek. ‘Congratulations.’
‘I’m going to order a bridal gown just like the one I saw here today. It’s very expensive according to the brochure prices. But Rog insists I have it.’
‘Anything for my princess,’ Rog said, giving Ruby one of his winks.
‘That’s enough, Rog! Stop teasing the girl,’ Debbie said, pulling his sleeve.
‘Are you still going to work at the parlour?’ Ruby asked.
‘Yes, but only until we start a family.’
‘That won’t take long,’ Rog laughed. ‘So you’d better give in your notice now.’
‘Shut up, Rog,’ Debbie giggled. ‘Ruby, are you enjoying your new job?’
‘Very much.’
‘I love your outfit too,’ Debbie said as she studied Ruby’s fashionable plum-coloured skirt and white cotton cardigan. ‘You look amazing. I see you haven’t put on too much weight.’
‘Nor have you,’ Ruby said a little sharply, thinking that Debbie had put on weight. But in all the wrong places.
‘Larry and Stuart are having another party,’ Debbie told her then. ‘They said to tell you if I saw you that you’re invited. And to bring Kath too.’ Debbie pulled a face. ‘I suppose you still see her?’
‘Yes. She’s working at the Windmill.’
‘The Windmill?’ Rog repeated, unable to hide his surprise.
‘She’s an usherette,’ Ruby said proudly, ‘and training for the chorus line.’
‘But don’t those girls dance naked?’ Debbie gasped, hand over her mouth.
