Family Drama 4 E-Book Bundle (98 page)

Babs Wheaton removed the barely touched breakfast plate and replaced it with another that had just a slice of toasted bread with a scrape of butter on it and a glass of milk.

‘Is that better? I know this is horrid for you but it will get better once you settle. In fact, today is a settling-in day for all the evacuees so we've both got a free day.' She paused and looked at the child sitting at her table. ‘I think we should go for a walk round the village. I'll show you the shops and we can look at the church. We might even bump into the vicar and his wife. They also played a big part in arranging this evacuation and finding accommodation for you all.'

‘I still feel a bit sick,' Ruby muttered cautiously, not wanting to go anywhere, least of all to meet the vicar and his wife.

‘Then a breath of fresh air will do you good. Mind you, I think most of the children will be feeling sick today. It was a long journey for you all yesterday and you're all away from home.'

‘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.'

‘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 was repeating Ray's words and that it was pointless to argue, but she couldn't help it.

‘That's not true, you know it isn't. It's just what Ray says …'

‘It is true, Ruby, it is! Me and Ray both met them, don't forget. Both of them pretending to care but looking down on us all the while. Now stop keep going on about them and how wonderful they are. I mean, how come they've no kids of their own, him being a doctor an' all? Unless he's not a real man down there.'

Ruby was near to tears at the injustice of it all, but still she wouldn't back down.

‘Why are you so horrible about them, Mum? They did their best for me and they still want to, I know they do. I could have a career, I could have—'

‘Shut up, Ruby. Just shut up, shut up, shut up!' Sarah stood up. She stepped down the stairs and looked at her daughter, and Ruby could see the tears of anger in her eyes.

‘I don't understand …'

‘That's because you don't want to.'

Ruby paused when she saw what looked like genuine hurt on her mother's face. ‘Oh, it doesn't matter. Just forget I said anything!'

Ruby stopped arguing. She could see that her mother would always follow Ray's lead and support his opinions. It puzzled her that her own mother didn't want the best possible for her, but she could also see there was no point in arguing about it.

But she was worried. She'd heard nothing from the Wheatons since their first letter and she couldn't understand how they could have forgotten about her so quickly. She'd written to them several times telling them how she felt, how she wanted to go back but wasn't allowed. She had opened up her heart and they hadn't responded, making her wonder if something was amiss.

Because her mother allowed Ray to have the upper hand in the household, Ruby's life was becoming increasingly unbearable. In fact, it was becoming the same as her mother's: a grind of mind-numbing domesticity. Her hopes of escape were pinned on her grandmother's support and the hope that the Wheatons still wanted her to live there.

She grabbed her coat again. ‘I'm going to the phone box. I'm going to telephone them. They wouldn't have forgotten my birthday last week, I know they wouldn't. Something must be wrong …'

‘Don't you dare go running off, Ruby. You come back here this minute! Don't you dare phone them. I'll send Ray after you …' her mother shouted after her as she slipped out of the front door without closing it, but Ruby took off down the road regardless.

She had no idea where she was going until she was halfway down the street and saw the open gate. On the spur of the moment she swerved in and cautiously knocked on the front door.

‘Well, if it isn't Ruby Red!' Johnnie Riordan smiled as he opened the front door and saw her standing nervously on the step. ‘Long time no see, missy. I thought you might have done a runner. What's up? You look upset.'

‘Just out of breath,' she said. ‘I'm sorry to ask, I want to make a telephone call but I left in a hurry and my purse is indoors and I don't have any money for the phone box. I can give it back to you but I don't want to have to go back for it right now …' she hesitated. ‘Ray is due home soon and if I go back I might not get out again.'

‘Course you can. Come in.' He stood back. ‘You can come and meet my big sister, Betty Dalton, while you're here. She's great, is our Betty. Keeps us all in line.'

His voice raised at the end of the sentence and he looked over his shoulder.

‘I'm not deaf, you know. I can hear you talking about me,' a voice echoed down the hallway.

‘You were meant to,' Johnnie shouted back. ‘I like to keep on your good side.' He looked back to Ruby and grinned. ‘Come and meet Ruby Blakeley. She lives up the other end of the road.'

Betty Dalton came towards them and smiled cautiously. ‘Hello, Ruby, nice to meet you. How are you settling back here? My brother told me all about your evacuation. You were really lucky, from what I've heard – so lucky, in fact, you nearly didn't come back!'

‘Nice to meet you too, Mrs Dalton. Yes, I was very lucky,' Ruby answered nervously.

‘Call me Betty. Have you got time for a cuppa?'

‘Erm, I was just going to the phone box …'

‘A quick one then. Come through to the back room. I've baked a cake and it's still warm. Does that persuade you?'

‘That'd be nice, thank you very much,' Ruby said politely as she stepped into the house and followed Betty Dalton down the hall into the light and airy breakfast room. The houses in this part of the street were larger than those at the top end, with three storeys and inside facilities. The room was light and inviting with long sash windows decorated with pretty lace curtains and a dark red velour cover on the table in the side bay.

‘Sit down and I'll make the tea.'

The woman went through to the kitchen, leaving Ruby sitting opposite Johnnie at the long rectangular table. She stared nervously at her hands, wondering what Ray would say if he ever found out she'd been inside the house of his sworn enemy.

Johnnie smiled. ‘You look nervous but there's no need; Betty's not going to tell Ray you've been here.'

‘How did you know I was thinking that?' Ruby asked.

‘Because I know how you feel about Ray.'

‘Here you are.' Betty brought a tray through and set it down. To Ruby's surprise she sat down with them.

As they made polite conversation Ruby looked from brother to sister. She was fascinated that there was no physical resemblance between them. Betty was not much over five foot, with pale skin, dark brown, tightly permed hair, and oval brown-flecked eyes. She wasn't unattractive, but there was nothing about her that stood out, in contrast to her tall, good-looking and charismatic young brother. Emotionally, however, Ruby could feel the link between the two. It was instantly obvious that the siblings adored each other, and she felt a little pang of envy. She'd seen the same connection between Marian and Keith Forger, her friends in Cambridgeshire, and it saddened her that she didn't have that closeness with any of her brothers.