The Locksmith

by Linda Calvey

  Ruby relayed her mother’s words, sounding confident but inside feeling suddenly sick. They couldn’t afford to send Louie to an undertaker’s. They had barely enough to live on. Cathy was in no shape to go back to work, and she and Bobby didn’t make much. Where on earth would they find the money for their dad’s funeral?

  Ruby swivelled round as she heard the worst sound in the world – that of her mum bursting into tears.

  ‘How can we pay for a funeral?’ Cathy wailed. Her head was in her hands. ‘Your father worked his whole life yet we never ’ad enough to save for one. He’ll have a pauper’s burial and I can’t bear it.’

  Bobby was sitting opposite, his face reflecting Ruby’s sense of helplessness. A pauper’s funeral, was considered a shameful end, especially for a working person. They called it the nine o’clock trot because they’d take the paupers to be cremated at 9 a.m. before the paid-for funerals took place. Everyone would think they didn’t care one wit for Louie. People in the East End saved their whole lives to have a ‘proper’ send-off involving carriages and plumed horses, sleek limousines and a wake to remember for years. Funerals were serious business, and it was a deeply humiliating prospect to say goodbye to a loved one without the trappings.

  Ruby knew the pain this would cause her proud mum, and rushed over, pulling Cathy into her arms, trying to impart some comfort. The worst thing was, her mum was right. They had no money. Dad would have to have the basics, and plenty of people round their way would gossip about it for years to come. The Murphy family was already shunned, making up with Sarah hadn’t put an end to the rumours. Gossip seemed more powerful than truth.

  ‘There, there,’ she said as if she was comforting little George. ‘There, there, Mum, it’ll be OK. You just get yourself back to bed. You look like you need a sleep. You ’ave to keep your strength up for the baby. Bobby and I’ll take care of this.’

  Cathy nodded. Ruby gestured to Bobby to make a cuppa, saying she’d help their mum upstairs.

  Later, once Cathy had drifted into a restless sleep, Ruby sat with Bobby at the table, both cradling lukewarm cups of tea. They were silent for a long time. What was there to say? How would they afford the cost of their dad’s funeral when they ran into hundreds or even thousands of pounds?

  ‘There’s no way we can pay for a proper send-off, no way in heaven . . .’ His voice was bleak.

  ‘I don’t know how we’re goin’ to put food on the table, how we’re goin’ to take care of George. It’s simple, Bobby, we can’t pay for Dad’s funeral, and that’s that.’ Ruby’s voice was flat. ‘Things ’ave to change, Bobby. Mum was right. Dad worked his whole life at the scrapyard and for what? A pauper’s funeral and a family strugglin’ to keep the wolf from the door. Somethin’ has to change.’

  Ruby stood at the crematorium, a black veil over her face. There were a few mourners, some of the lads Louie had worked with had done the decent thing and shown up, but few others had come. The only friend of Ruby’s that had bothered to show up was Sarah, and even then the rest of Sarah’s family had refused to come.

  Ruby felt a hard stone in her stomach, a feeling that she didn’t belong here any more, even though she was a born and bred East Ender. She was grateful for the solid shape of Bobby standing next to her, awkward in his black suit, sniffing as he shed tears for the father they adored.

  None of it seemed real. She was numb with grief. Louie had been so young, barely forty-two years old, and with a new baby that would never know him. Ruby tried to breathe, to stop the oceanic emotions that swelled and rose within her. She saw Cathy almost stumble as she turned to walk away, and was instantly by her side, catching her arm and helping to balance her.

  ‘It’s all right, Mum, I’ve got you,’ Ruby murmured. ‘It’s all right . . .’

  Cathy looked through the veil and into her daughter’s eyes, which were red from crying, and she just shook her head. Nothing was ‘all right’. Everything was wrong. How would they cope without the man who’d loved them and protected them from the harsh realities of life? How could they go on living in a community that wouldn’t forgive them for a crime they hadn’t committed?

  It seemed unfathomable that Louie was gone. Ruby remembered everything that day; how Louie had bounced her on his knee as a child, playing horses, how he had sat patiently with her as she learned her numbers and spellings. She recalled how protective he was when she was a teenager, shooing away the local fellas as if they were a swarm of annoying flies. In her mind’s eye she saw him giving one local lad a right earful because he’d whistled at Ruby as she walked past. He’d hated any disrespect shown towards her, and demanded she was treated like a young lady. Ruby always knew how fortunate she’d been, growing up under his loving care. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, none of them were.

  ‘I’m OK now, Rube. I’ll be OK, I just lost my balance a bit.’ Cathy reassured Ruby as she steadied herself, her face was deathly white and her dress hung off her thin frame, despite the fact she’d had a baby only two weeks ago.

  Would she ever recover from her beloved Louie’s death? The pair had been like sweethearts up to the day of his death. They’d met in the tobacconist where she’d worked. Louie fell in love with her at first sight, or so the story went. He’d come out of the shop that day and told his dad, Jim, that he’d met the girl he was going to marry. The rest was history – and now, far too soon, the story had ended, and Cathy was left to bring up George without his father.

  Ruby remembered how Grandad Jim had insisted she wear an emerald green dress to match her eyes at his funeral all those years ago. Jim had been a careful man. He’d planned his death for years, putting aside a little money each month so there was enough for a modest burial and new black suits for everyone – except his favourite grandchild – who had been resplendent in shimmering green. He and Louie had been working full-time so there’d been enough money to go around and a few pounds each week grew steadily into a reasonably-sized pot. It had been just like him; such a thoughtful, caring man. He didn’t want anyone to worry about finding money at such a sad time and he’d spared his son and grandchildren that.

  This time it had been different because there’d never been those few coins to spare each week and no one thought they’d need the money so soon.

  CHAPTER 11

  The funeral over, it was time to make their way to the local pub, The Anchor, for Louie’s small wake. Ruby stood with what remained of her family and made small talk with her dad’s former co-workers, the kind that won’t ever be remembered but was essential nonetheless. They couldn’t offer food or a bar tab to their guests, which shamed them even more. Most of the few mourners drifted off after a drink. When the scrapyard boss Terry came over, Ruby thought it was just another set of pleasantries she’d have to endure, smiling and nodding while all she really wanted was to get home, away from people and the strange formalities of death.

  ‘Listen, I don’t want to upset ya any more than I ’ave to, but I thought you should know . . .’

  ‘Know what?’ Cathy said, frowning, turning to Ruby, who shrugged.

  ‘I was there in the yard that day, and I saw Louie. He didn’t look right. He had his head in his ’ands and was visibly shaken or upset about somethin’. I went over to speak to him but he walked off quickly, not lookin’ where he was goin’ and that’s when it ’appened.

  ‘Louie was one of my best men. He’d worked with me since he was sixteen, and he’d never have been so careless, steppin’ under that crane . . . He wasn’t himself, that’s all I’m sayin’. Look, I’m sorry for your loss. I ’ope I haven’t upset ya . . .’

  Puzzled, Ruby turned to her mum, catching Bobby’s eye as she did so. He shrugged. What was Dad’s boss on about?

  Cathy stood as still as if she’d been carved out of stone. She swallowed, and in a small voice, she said, ‘You’re right. There was a reason Louie was so upset that day, but . . . it’s a private family matter. I’m sorry . . . I can’t talk about any o
f this right now.’

  Ruby’s eyes narrowed. None of this had made sense from the moment Cathy had told them their dad had been buried alive at work. She’d felt in her bones that something was amiss. Louie had been too experienced to have made such a drastic – and tragic – mistake. No one, except perhaps an inexperienced yard hand, would ever walk under a crane that was loading metal. They knew things could slip out of its grasp, it happened all the time. Louie’s mistake had cost him his life, and yet it was a mistake that she would have gambled anything to say could never happen. She looked at her mum, her face pinched and closed.

  ‘Mum?’ Ruby said.

  Cathy shook her head. Her lips were shut. ‘Not now Rube,’ she said.

  Fear mixed with anger rose in Ruby’s heart. She realised there were things her mum hadn’t told her, important things.

  ‘When, Mum?’ Ruby spat. She couldn’t remember the last time she argued with Cathy, but she was as close as she’d ever been right now. Bobby looked back and forth between them, not understanding what was going on.

  ‘I will tell you both later,’ their mum said at last, in a way that brooked no argument – at least for now.

  Ruby couldn’t wait for the last mourner to leave. Eventually, the pub emptied, and the staff waved them off, saying they’d clear up. Back inside the house, Ruby ripped off her hat and veil and turned to face her mother. Bobby stood beside her, looking lost. ‘Tell us now. What ’ave you been hidin’?’

  Cathy sighed and sank into a chair. ‘I wanted to tell ya in my own time, when things had calmed down, when it felt right.’

  Ruby instantly felt ashamed for getting cross with her mum. She could see how much strain the last few months, and now this, had placed upon her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ Ruby whispered.

  ‘It’s all right, Rube. I do ’ave somethin’ to tell you both, and it’s just so difficult. I never wanted to tell you like this.’ As she spoke, a single tear traced its way down Cathy’s gaunt cheek. Ruby reached for her hand.

  ‘Go on, Mum. Tell us. I can’t bear seeing you so sad.’ Ruby’s voice broke. She could see the pain her mum was suffering and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  ‘Well, I know you noticed I wasn’t well when I was pregnant with George. I know you saw me losin’ weight and bein’ tired all the time. You asked me a few times if there was anythin’ wrong – and Rube – I kept lyin’ to ya both . . .’

  Ruby’s face was anguished. What was going on? Her head was spinning but somewhere deep down she knew already, she knew the truth. She could see her mum’s condition plain as day, and she knew this wasn’t good news.

  ‘Will you ever forgive me, you two, for not tellin’ you both sooner?’

  ‘There’s nuthin’ to forgive, but you must tell us now, you must,’ Ruby soothed, her heart pounding in her chest. She stared into her mother’s eyes intently, trying to give her the courage to say what she had to say.

  Bobby stood watching them both, his face pale with shock.

  ‘There’s no easy way to say this, but I’m dyin’, Ruby, Bobby. I’m dyin’ and there’s nuthin’ any of us can do about it.’

  Cathy stopped talking as if her batteries had run out. She flopped back in the chair. They could see her exhaustion, the sheer strength of will that had kept her standing and walking and speaking during the day. That willpower had gone now, and all that was left was a husk of the woman their mum once was.

  ‘I’ve got ovarian cancer. I knew early on in my pregnancy and I chose to keep it a secret. It was that or get rid of George, and I could never do that. The doctors told me they could do nothing to treat the tumour until after your brother was born, but by then it was too late.

  ‘I knew the cancer had grown and spread but I couldn’t face tellin’ ya. I was so scared of leavin’ you alone to look after Louie and my baby boy. And now this . . . it’s so cruel, so cruel.’ Cathy burst into fresh sobs.

  Ruby’s heart had broken with the death of her dad, and now this on top. It was too much for any human heart to bear. Bobby was in tears, sobbing and holding his mum as if he could never let her go.

  Suddenly Bobby looked up. ‘But what’s this got to do with Dad’s death?’

  ‘There’s more, isn’t there?’ Ruby said, making Cathy nod.

  ‘The day yer dad died, I’d told him the news only minutes before. He’d come home from work as he wanted to ask me what was really wrong, as he’d guessed too. Gypsy intuition – it’s a powerful thing, as you know. So, I ’ad to tell him that I’d be makin’ him a widower with three mouths to feed and all the grief that I knew he’d feel.’ Cathy looked down at her hands that resembled an eighty-year-old’s now and went on. ‘He didn’t take it well. He got up, for a moment I thought he hadn’t ’eard me, and I said, “Where are ya goin’?” but he just sort-of lurched out. I ’eard the door slam and I broke down in tears. I cried and cried, and then, not long after, there was that knock at the door.’

  Ruby understood. That knock was the site foreman, his cap in his hand, his face a picture of despair at being the one to share the news of his workmate’s death.

  ‘He went to work and he didn’t know what he was doin’, ’ Ruby added, then Bobby spoke. ‘So that’s why he stepped under the crane. Oh Dad, why did ya go back to work?’ Bobby’s face was a picture of grief – and understanding now. His soft heart, so obviously broken, was shattering again. Ruby couldn’t decide who to comfort, her mum who was now in floods of tears, or Bobby, who was suffering so intensely.

  Cathy spoke eventually. ‘He was overcome with grief. He was devastated, and I let him go . . . I let him go . . . If I’d ’ave tried to stop him then he’d be alive today, your dad would be ’ere now, makin’ this so much easier. It wasn’t meant to be him dyin’, I blame myself completely. It was meant to be me first, me first . . .’

  Both mum and son dissolved into fresh tears and Ruby put her arms around them, wanting so much to protect them from their hurt, even though she was grieving herself.

  As she held them she stared at the magnolia paint on the walls, paint that needed redoing, marks from the years of living in the house that was their home. She stared, her feelings freezing as she knew, from this moment onwards, she had to pull her family through this, she had to take up Louie’s role and protect them. From now on, it was all down to her. She knew that in the weeks and months ahead, her resolve would be tested, that she’d feel unimaginable grief, yet she had to stay strong for them all; for Cathy, Bobby and little George. Even though her older brother was ‘officially’ the head of the family, her intuition told her that in reality, it would be her. Only she was tough enough to weather the storms that beset them from every angle.

  CHAPTER 12

  ‘With Dad gone, his wages lost and Mum too ill to work, we’re sunk, Rube,’ said Bobby one evening not long after the funeral.

  Ruby sighed. They were both cradling cups of coffee, a precious drink they could no longer afford. Things looked bleak, bleaker than they’d ever known.

  ‘And how are we goin’ to care for George while I’m back at work? I’ll ’ave to speak to my boss and see if I can cut my hours, though that won’t help with bringin’ in cash,’ Ruby spoke aloud.

  ‘We’re barely surviving as it is, and with another mouth to feed . . .’ Bobby said. Seeing the downcast look on his sister’s face, he added, ‘But we’ll manage. We’ll find a way, Rube.’

  Ruby glanced at him and nodded, knowing it was just a platitude. They needed to take action and do something, or Bobby was right, they’d be sunk. They could sell the house, but it wasn’t worth much and they’d just have to make rent every month somewhere else. So that wasn’t an option.

  ‘I’ll go in tomorrow and ask to work part-time, then we’ll ’ave to find someone to care for George while I’m out. Mum just can’t cope with him. She can barely get out of bed. At least we’ll still ’ave some money comin’ in.’

  ‘I know my job doesn’t pay much,
but they’ve taken me on full-time after my apprenticeship, so that’s a bit better than it was,’ Bobby said, trying to force a smile on his face.

  ‘The main thing is not to worry Mum. She needs to think everythin’s OK,’ Ruby added. It wasn’t unusual for hard-up families to give away children they couldn’t afford to keep, but Ruby couldn’t bear to do that. We won’t give up George, not on my life. We’ll find a way – we have to.

  The next day, Ruby stood in front of her boss’s door gathering her courage. She knocked and a voice said, ‘Enter!’ She stepped into the office. The boss, Mr Armstrong, sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he smiled at Ruby.

  ‘How can I help you, dear?’ His grin was wolf-like.

  ‘Thank you for seeing me. I wouldn’t be ’ere unless it was really important . . .’ She hesitated. ‘My dad died recently . . .’

  ‘Yes, I heard. My condolences,’ he murmured.

  Encouraged, Ruby continued, ‘And my mum’s very ill and so we need someone to look after my baby brother. Well, that’s why I’m ’ere. I want to ask you if I can work less hours, cut my work down . . .’

  The smile had left the wolf’s face. ‘I’d love to help you, darlin’, but you see I know a dozen girls who’d kill for your job.’ He leaned forward to make his point.

  Ruby was stung by his coldness. ‘But my brother, who’ll look after him? And my mum’ll need care too—’

  ‘Sorry dear, it isn’t my problem. Either work the hours you’re given – or go.’

  Ruby got up from her chair and thanked him, though she felt nothing but sheer disbelief. She was deflated, and shocked that her employer, who’d seemed to like her so much, had left her – and by extension, her family – in the lurch.

  Standing back outside the door, she tried to compose herself. What would they do? She couldn’t work her usual hours and care for George, and they couldn’t do without her wage. There was a tightness to her chest and she felt herself struggling to breathe. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but as her breathing came under control, she realised she’d left the door ajar and she could hear the boss speaking on the telephone.