And none of it was working. Edward still wanted to stay married.
*
When Claire phoned, her shriek pierced Ruby’s skull.
‘Ruby! We’re coming to visit you!’
‘Golly!’ Ruby could act joyful, safe in the knowledge that in five days she would be gone.
‘But it will only be for two nights,’ Claired continued. ‘Let me explain. Arnaud’s friend, Roberto di Cavagio - what a wonderful baritone - you met him at Maria Miyukova’s house - was that Christmas ninety-seven?’
‘Whatever.’ Ruby smothered a yawn.
‘We had the most delightful amuse bouches.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Anyway, Roberto is playing Count Monterone in Rigoletto at the Civic Opera House in Chicago on New Year’s Eve. And he’s invited me and Arnaud as honoured guests. Isn’t that thrilling? So I thought that since we would be in America we would pop down beforehand. Kansas City is your nearest airport, isn’t it?’
Ruby froze. New Year’s Eve. Pop down beforehand. She swiftly calculated. ‘So you’re arriving on-’
‘Thursday!’
This cannot happen.
Her stepsister must not see her like this: a bottled blonde with a hillbilly mongrel and a kitchen with the basic hygiene standards of a Petri dish. And Arnaud would meet Edward for the first time. Her dog-food-selling husband and cultured Arnaud van de Ghellinck. The only culture Edward was interested in was between his toes; and the only Offenbach he knew, was the one who unblocked the drains.
Claire and Arnaud would take one look at the Christmas house lights, the leaping Bambis and Snowman and snigger behind their hands. They had always suspected Ruby of bad taste but wait until they heard the singing trout screwed to the wall.
Apart from anything else, Ruby was buggered if she was going to spend her time in the kitchen cooking Ragôut des Aubergines, Compôte des Pommes, Crêpes Suzette, or anything else with a circumflex.
She had to ward them off, big time!
Thankfully, ideas were coming at her thick and fast. ‘There’s a modern exhibition that you will simply adore.’
‘I love innovative art. Painting or sculptures?’
‘Coat hangers.’
‘Oh.’
‘We can spend the whole day there then go to Rusky’s Truck Stop for beer and hot dogs.’ This should be enough to deflect her step-sister’s visit.
Claire, who had been murmuring, now exclaimed: ‘Now I understand.’
‘Understand?’
‘The coat hangers.’
Since Ruby’s thoughts had bounded on ahead, she had to stop and retrace her steps. ‘What about them?’
‘It’s profound, very profound but so obvious, of course.’
Ruby had to hear this one.
‘Maybe I’m wrong,’ Claire stated in a tone that said, “I’m never wrong”. ‘But it seems to me they symbolise how a nation has shouldered the burden of a striving people. Naked, unclothed.’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
‘Don’t let anyone say Madame van de Ghellinck is narrow-minded. I would love to see the exhibition.’
Ruby rolled out the heavy guns. ‘Marvellous. Do you like venison? A friend gave us a dead deer, which you can help us skin.’
‘Oh!’
‘And you’ll get a chance to meet our racoons.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Racoons. We have a pride of them up the chimney.’
‘What on earth are they doing up there?’
‘Hibernating.’
‘Can’t you get rid of them?’
‘Too dangerous.’
‘But surely it must be … inconvenient.’
‘Very. The house is freezing because we can’t light the fire. Believe me, incinerated racoon is not a pretty smell.’
Claire snorted. ‘You’re telling me a porky-pie!’
‘Ask Edward. Or you can phone Shirletta Conway, our local Wildlife Controllers for Shawnee, who will tell you-’
‘Alright, alright, I believe you. So when do you expect these creatures to leave?’
‘Springtime.’
‘Well, Ruby, you’re the more outward-bound sort, but I couldn’t possibly feel comfortable sleeping in the same house as those creatures. I will wait until spring to come and visit you.’
Ruby didn’t mention that when they next got together, Claire would be hopping barefoot around a bonfire, whooping infertility chants. ‘That sounds like a plan.’
Ruby was mentally comparing her bright new future with Claire’s.
Tribal life in New Mexico is a billion times more exotic than Brussels.
Culture? I’m going to have three thousand years of it!
Excitement? Claire doesn’t know the meaning of it
Status? I’ll have my own fucking tribe!
Romance? Ruby burst out laughing.
*
With two days to go to the Millennium, Ruby had still not made any advances in bringing Edward and Donna together.
She’d run out of patience. She dialled Donna’s number and said flatly: ‘Edward loves you. He wants to marry you and have your kids.’ She ignored Donna’s stammering protestations. ‘But, as he’s too shy to tell you, you have to be the one to make the first move-’
‘Stop!’ Donna shouted. ‘I’m sorry, Ruby. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m talking about you marrying Edward.’
‘What?’
‘You. Edward. Married.’
‘But …’
‘I’m divorcing him, which means you’ll have to be there to comfort him.’
‘Please, Ruby …’ Donna’s breathing was loud, as if she had was struggling with a heavy suitcase. ‘Give me a moment to take this all in.’
Ruby paused for a heart-beat. ‘You’ll get to have six kids. You’ll have a sweet, tender husband who needs the love of a good woman. And you’ll get to have a double-barrelled surname: Mrs Donna Mortimer-Smyth! How does that sound?’
‘I wouldn’t marry Edward for his name.’
Ruby heard the rebuke and smiled smugly. Donna had said the magic word: “marry”. ‘So, it’s simple,’ Ruby continued brightly. ‘On New Year’s Eve you declare your love for him. And I walk away. Okay?
‘Oh, Ruby!’
‘Okay?’
‘Okay.’
*
That afternoon, Molly and Ruby drove to Shawnee Mission Park. The lake was covered in ice and dusted with freshly fallen snow. Ducks waddled across it, slipping and sliding, their quacking echoing in the winter silence while Rowdy strained on his leash wanting to chase them.
Molly led the way past the boat house. She was wearing yellow quilted ski trousers, an orange jacket and a purple woollen hat - a splash of colour against all the white. ‘The Daughters of the British Empire are having a Hogmanay party to celebrate New Year’s. I go every year. It’s all tartan skirts, lumps of coal, whisky and Scottish dancing - with Marjorie whipping everyone into a gallop. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone with a heart problem. You wanna come? It’s real fun.’
‘I can’t. Edward and I have to go to the agency party.’ Ruby didn’t add that in the early hours of the new Millennium, she would be heading to New Mexico with Payat to start a new life. She felt guilty not telling Molly, but if her friend knew the truth, she would try talking her out of it.
Ruby felt a low, sliding sadness, sensing this would be the last time she would ever see Molly.
She stopped and put a hand on her friend’s arm. ‘Molly …?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I just want you to know. You are the best friend I ever had.’
Molly’s squirrel-smile faded; her eyes moist. She pulled Ruby into a tight hug. ‘I love you, too, Best Buddy.’ She sniffed and broke away, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. ‘And don’t forget: if Claire asks who taught you to cuss, knock back tequila shots and dance the Ten Step Polka, then you tell her it was Molly McAllister.’
Ruby laughed, fee
ling the choke in her throat. ‘You betchya!’
In silence, they stared across the lake. The last time they were here, it had been scorching hot, the blue water sparkling, the sand warm under their bare feet. Was that just six weeks ago? Ruby, remembering the loaf of bread in her bag, took it out and began skimming slices across the ice.
‘It’s forbidden to feed the ducks,’ Molly reminded her.
‘I know.’
‘You might get into trouble with Hank. Or is that your intention?’
Ruby stiffened at the mention of his name. ‘No,’ she said tartly. ‘I just want to prevent the wild fowl from starving to death.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Molly pressed the toe of her boot into the ice. ‘I’ve been phoning him, but there’s been no answer.’
‘He’s staying with his family in Vassar over the New Year’s.’
Molly hesitated. ‘You wanna talk about him?’
Ruby shook her head. Ruby did have a heart problem: Hank. And she knew with a terrible conviction it was incurable.
‘Come on!’ Molly coaxed. ‘What happened between you two?’
‘Okay, I’ll tell you!’ Ruby crumpled the empty plastic bag and stuffed it in her pocket. ‘When he discovered I was married, he sent round a police officer to list out my misdemeanours and threaten me with prosecution.’
‘No!’
‘Yes! He made me love him - yet all the time he was in infatuated with Roxanne, a beautiful red-head half his age!’
‘Oh, Ruby…’
‘And that’s why I never want to talk about him, ever again.’
‘Maybe it’s for the best. You don’t wanna get involved with him if you’re going to Paris.’
‘We’re not going. Edward has taken a permanent job in Kansas.’
Molly frowned. ‘But I thought you really wanted Paris?’
‘I did - but not anymore.’
Molly gave her a side-long grin. ‘You can’t get away from Hank, huh?’
‘Believe me, Molly; I want to get away from him as far as I possibly can.’
Chapter Thirty One
Mission Hills Police Precinct, Kansas City
1.50 am. 1 Jan, 2000.
Zelda kissed him and left. The Police Chief watched from the window as his wife got into her car and drove off. He picked up the internal phone asked Sergeant Waltz to bring up the woman with the purple coat.
‘Can I ask your name?’ the Police Chief said, as the woman settled into a chair. He noticed the sunken, rouged cheeks and the moustache coated in makeup.
‘Miss Abigail Thompson,’ she answered, supporting her blue-veined hands on a silver-topped walking stick.
‘And what’s your connection with Ruby?’
‘I’m her aunt, on her father’s side. Before we begin, I would like to state that none of this surprises me.’
‘What doesn’t surprise you?’
‘That Ruby robbed a bank and disappeared.’
‘Nobody’s accusing her of robbing a bank.’
‘You should be.’
The Chief felt his pulse race. ‘You think she’s capable of robbery?’
Miss Thompson gave a twisted smile. ‘She always looked as if butter wouldn’t melt, but I knew better. I knew she was the one who flattened my peonies; and she ran her tricycle into my car. She denied it, of course. But I saw it every time I looked into her face.’
‘What did you see?’
‘The devil in her eyes. But with the mother she had, I’m not surprised.’
The Police Chief waited. The woman, knowing she had an eager listener, took her time.
‘Ruby knows nothing of what I am about to tell you. Her mother - her biological mother - was a student, who was pregnant. My brother, Timothy, was her lecturer. He took care of her, even though she didn’t want marriage. When she had the baby, Timothy legally adopted her. The baby, of course, was Ruby.
‘His wife was young, and wild. But Timothy soon had her under control. He did his duty to her. More than anything, he wanted a child of his own - a son. Yet, for some reason, his wife couldn’t get through the first weeks of pregnancy without miscarrying. Then with her fourth pregnancy, things started to change. She successfully got through her second month. The ultrasound scan showed it was a boy. Timothy was so happy.
‘His wife was eleven weeks pregnant when she took Ruby to a funfair. By this time, Ruby was four - old enough to have some sense. Ruby went on the carousel but in a pique of childish tantrum, climbed off her horse and stood on the edge, presumably expecting to be caught. Her mother ran to keep up with the carousel and not seeing where she was going, collided with a wheelchair and fell heavily. She lost the baby – all because of Ruby.
‘The accident changed everything. My brother was too upset to hide his feelings and there was a lot of unhappiness in the marriage. Ruby’s mother started taking drugs; starting with anti-depressants and ending up on heroin. Three years later she settled Ruby with her grandfather, saying she would be back.
‘As Ruby’s legal guardian, Timothy had a duty to Ruby, but he made no protest when her grandfather continued to look after her. Then Timothy married Vanessa. Vanessa insisted that Ruby - who was now eight – needed a stable home environment. Vanessa said the girl was turning into a delinquent and needed help before it was too late.’
The Police Chief sat forward. ‘And Ruby doesn’t know any of this?’
‘No. She’s always believed Timothy to be her real father. I, myself, wanted to tell her, but Vanessa was against it. I’m also forbidden to tell Ruby that her biological mother did come back for her. Yes, that’s right; she came back fourteen months after leaving. But Vanessa was having none of it. Vanessa reasoned with the mother, said if she truly loved her daughter, she should leave her be; that Ruby deserved a good education and a stable home and not some drug addict. The mother left, and was never seen again.’
‘And the relationship between Vanessa and Ruby? What’s it like?’
‘They absolutely adore each other.’ The woman whispered in a confidential tone. ‘I think Vanessa loves Ruby more than her own daughter.’ The woman shrugged. ‘Which, I suppose is understandable. Claire can be very arrogant and demanding.’
‘Yeah.’ The Chief knew exactly what she meant.
‘Vanessa, though, had an ulterior motive for adopting Ruby. Vanessa, you see, wanted the absolute best for her daughter, Claire. But for Claire to reach her full potential, she needed to be goaded, prodded, pushed. She needed a sparring partner.’
The Police Chief frowned. ‘She made them hit each other?’
‘Not with fists, no. It was more psychological. She made them compete against each other. And because of it, there was no room for love or sharing or childish romps. It was all about Claire being groomed to be the best of the best. And if Claire failed a particular challenge then it would be Ruby who would get the love. And if Ruby failed to achieve, then she was denied love.’
‘Christ,’ the Police Chief muttered. Vanessa was a fucked-up bitch.
The woman continued, ‘After being rejected and neglected, Ruby was desperate for love. She would do anything to make Vanessa love her. It wasn’t just Vanessa who put pressure on her; it was also Ruby, herself. And I think the pressure became too great until she just …’
‘Snapped,’ the Police Chief murmured. It was all coming together like a jigsaw puzzle.
The old woman pushed down on her walking stick, her back straight. ‘I do not wish to alarm you, officer, but I believe you may be dealing with a ticking time bomb.’
The phone rang, and the Police Chief picked it up. ‘Yeah?’
‘Sir. This is Deputy Sheriff Boyd. Hank Gephart has regained consciousness.’
‘I’m heading straight over.’ Police Chief reached for his jacket. At the same moment, Sergeant Waltz came in carrying a carton.
‘County Sheriff’s men said you should check this out, asap. Property of the suspect. A box of 03.03 shells and this-’ Waltz handed over a sheet of paper. ‘Seems she
’s a poet.’
The Police Chief saw the title hand-written along the top of the paper: “Alice Chambers”. Below was some kind of poem. As he read through, sentences jumped out at him: “Gonna get me a robbery.” “Then, hey, am going missin’.”
He stared at the poem long and hard.
He felt sorry for Ruby; he really did. But he had a job to do.
‘Sergeant Waltz,’ he said, shrugging into his jacket. ‘Sheriff Gephart has regained consciousness. I’m heading over to the hospital to question him.’ He turned to the old lady. ‘Thank you for your help, Miss Thompson. There’s nothing more for you to do here.’
Then he walked out of the room
Sixteen hours earlier …
Chapter Thirty Two
It was ten o’clock in the morning, New Year’s Eve. ‘Nothing’s going to happen tonight,’ Edward repeated as Ruby checked the batteries in her flashlight.
Due to the fact that she’d been watching Y2K’s progress from Bora Bora since dawn, she was beginning to think he was right. Playing it safe, though, she kept her GOOD backpack in the trunk of her car. She also had her suitcase packed and hidden in her closet - she and Payat would pick it up on their way to New Mexico. She didn’t want Edward to see the suitcase because he would start questioning her decision; and it was too late for her to get cold feet.
When Edward went upstairs for a bath, Ruby quickly phoned Donna. ‘Okay, Donna, let’s go through tonight’s plan one last time.’
Donna’s voice trembled. ‘I wait until midnight then I tell Edward I love him.’
‘Good girl.
‘And you’re sure he loves me?’
‘YES!’ Ruby resumed in a calmer voice. ‘We’ll be at your house early to help you get ready for the party. See you then.’
After the call, Ruby gazed at the table where Hank had dropped his belt. She shook the image away. She hated him!
She phoned grandad Jack to tell him she would call tomorrow to wish him Happy New Year. Where would she be? she wondered, feeling a shiver of apprehension. She asked her grandad how he felt now that the Millennium Bug looked as if it might turn out to be a dud. He chuckled and said Audrey Butler would have a lot of tinned tuna to get through in the next year, and Mrs Symmonds Elliot, who liked his survival lessons so much, had agreed to go camping with him to Scotland in the spring.
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