‘Do I have to go to school tomorrow if I still feel sick?’ Ruby asked hopefully.
‘Oh, I think you’ll be fine by tomorrow and, if not … well, Dr Wheaton will have a look at you. And you won’t be going for the whole day. The school hours have changed because of having to fit in so many extra children; we can check when we get down there this morning.’
Babs Wheaton’s tone was lightly firm and her smile was kindly, but Ruby knew instinctively there would be no point in arguing with the woman.
Walking back down the hill through the village, Ruby started to relax. They visited all the shops, and Ruby was impressed that Mrs Wheaton was introducing her as if she was a genuine visitor rather than a child who had simply been dumped on her.
That evening she was surprised when Mrs Wheaton explained about the evening meal; Ruby hadn’t expected to be included for every meal and a part of her didn’t want to be. The whole situation was far too overwhelming for a ten-year-old away from home for the first time.
‘We don’t stand on ceremony at mealtimes but we do expect promptness and good table manners. Now you sit here …’
Ruby took her seat nervously and sat perfectly still and quiet, with her hands in her lap and her eyes down.
‘Now, young Ruby, tell us a little about yourself and your family.’
Ruby looked up through her eyelashes at the man sitting adjacent to her at the head of the table. Her mouth was dry and the nausea she had felt that morning started to rise again.
‘We know your father is away at war and that you have two brothers at home—’
‘Three brothers.’
‘Ah,’ Dr Wheaton smiled, ‘the lone girl in a family of boys. No wonder you’re so quiet; I doubt you ever get a word in.’
Both Dr and Mrs Wheaton tried hard to bring her out of herself and into a conversation but she remained mostly silent and scared.
‘Would you pass me the gravy, please, Ruby?’ the doctor asked.
Silently Ruby leaned forward and picked up the glass saucer holding the jug, but her hands were shaking so much she couldn’t hold on to it. As she went to pass it she felt it slip away and land in the middle of the table, splattering the thick hot gravy everywhere, including down Dr Wheaton’s shirt. His wife jumped up from her chair and, with a quickly snatched tea towel, tried to minimise the mess as the doctor wheeled his chair backwards away from the table. But the brown liquid had already made its mark.
Paralysed with fear, Ruby could only watch the chaos she had caused. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry …’
As the man moved his wheelchair towards her, so she cowered down in her seat fearfully. She was horrified she could have done such a thing, and terrified of the consequences. In her head she could hear her father’s angry voice, and she could see the whiplash that was his hand as he banged one or other of her brothers around the head for the slightest perceived misdemeanour. A dropped gravy boat would have earned the boys a sound thrashing with his belt and Ruby a banishment by her mother to her room with nothing to eat or drink until the next day.
‘Ruby, it’s OK, it’s just gravy. It doesn’t matter,’ Barbara said gently. ‘It was an accident. We have them all the time in this house. I often drop things, and so does my husband. Now let’s get this cleared up and then we’ll start again.’
Eyes wide, Ruby looked from one to the other. ‘I’m sorry.’
George Wheaton moved very slowly back beside her. He smiled and then gently ruffled her hair. ‘Promise me you won’t ever be frightened of either of us again, Ruby. Promise?’
‘I promise.’
Six
Walthamstow
‘Any letters for me?’ Ruby asked as she closed the front door behind her. It was always the first question she asked the moment she walked into the house. As she slipped off her coat and hung it on the hallstand she looked around hopefully.
‘No, and I wish you wouldn’t keep going on about it. I’m not as stupid as you think I am, Ruby. I know you mean letters from the bloody Wheatons and you know how much it gets me and your brother going when you keep asking. It’s finished – all of it. You have to forget it.’
Head on one side, Ruby stared at her mother. She couldn’t understand her constantly defensive stance towards the Wheatons, a couple who had done nothing wrong by her at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.
‘I can’t forget about it. And anyway, why should it bother Ray? Or you? I lived with them for five years, they looked after me as if I was their own daughter, and I really want to hear from them.’
‘Well, they couldn’t have thought that much of you as they haven’t even written. Anyway, you should be pleased you had a real family to come back to. Lots of evacuees ended up in orphanages, you know. Homes were bombed, whole families killed, and that was it. Instant orphans. You’ve got all of us … well, apart from your father.’
Sarah Blakeley looked over her shoulder at her daughter and they locked eyes. She was kneeling halfway up the stairs, brushing the narrow carpet to within an inch of its life with a brush and dustpan, and Ruby knew the brass stair rods would be next for a vicious attack of Brasso, followed by the polishing of the banister. Every day of the week was marked by different chores and meals, and nothing was ever allowed to interfere with that domestic routine. Sarah’s whole life was run to a meticulous timetable.
Ruby was convinced that her mother worked herself into the ground, both at home and at work so that she was permanently exhausted and therefore too tired to think about her grindingly monotonous life. Ruby felt for her, but at the same time couldn’t understand why she didn’t do anything about it. Being subservient to a husband was to be expected, but to answer in this way to a son was something else entirely and, as far as Ruby was concerned, not what her mother should accept.
‘Yes I know, Mum, and I am grateful you’re all alive and the house is still standing,’ Ruby continued, trying but failing to keep her tone reasoned, ‘but just because I have family here doesn’t mean I can’t have a second family there. They were good to me and you should be pleased.’ Her voice got stronger along with her frustration. ‘A lot of evacuees were treated like skivvies. I heard about one who only ever slept in a barn, even in winter, and he wasn’t allowed to go to school, and he had to work all day on the farm to earn a meal.’
‘Don’t you shout at me. And grateful?’ Sarah laughed drily. ‘To them? I should be grateful that they tried to keep my only daughter? It was only because of Ray going up there that they let you come home at all. Just because they couldn’t have their own they wanted to keep you to look after the crippled doctor in his dotage. They’ve ruined you, given you ideas above your station so you won’t settle back here. They did it deliberately.’
Ruby knew her mother
