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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

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BOOK: Ruby McBride
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Ruby would struggle to picture the shadowy figure of her father running after a long black skirt as it danced alone down an unknown street in Ireland, and failed miserably. It didn’t make sense. `How can a skirt dance, Mam?’

‘Oh, believe me, precious, there are some what’ll dance to any tune, given half a chance. That’s life, Ruby precious. Nothing lasts forever. Not the lovely Toby, nor either of the good-for-nothing wastrels who took his place. You remember that, girl. Love you and leave you, that’s men all over. So make the best of it while it lasts, because come the first drop of rain, they’ll be gone.’

Seeing the tears spilling down her mam’s pale cheeks and hearing the racking cough start up again, the conversation would be swiftly brought to an end and Ruby would be filled with shame. It was ever a mistake to talk about her da, for it always had the same effect. She really should be more considerate.

Now Ruby put these concerns to one side and scrambled out of bed, hastily rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she started pulling on a few more layers of clothing over those she’d slept in. There was always a raw chill here in the cellar which comprised their home. Not that this troubled her overmuch, for she’d long since grown used to a bit of discomfort. They’d lived in a dozen places over the years but Ruby didn’t care how many times they moved, so long as the family were all together, the three of them with their lovely mam. She splashed cold water on her face and scrubbed at her teeth with a salt rag, just as Mam had taught her, then hurried back to the thankless task of waking her brother and sister.

Grasping her sister’s shoulder Ruby shook her again, more firmly this time. ‘Wake up, Pearl. Morning has come, at last.’ Hardly having slept for excitement herself, she couldn’t see why her sister wasn’t equally eager for the day to begin.

Pearl’s blue eyes blinked open, then closed tight again, as if she couldn’t bear the morning light, though very little penetrated the grime of the single window. ‘Leave over, Ruby. I’m stopping here a bit longer, in the warm.’

Ruby ran her hand beneath her four-year-old brother and sighed with relief that for once he hadn’t wet himself. The sooner she got him to the lavvy, the better. Gathering him in her arms, she lifted him from the bed and carried him out to the back yard where she sat him on the cracked wooden lavatory seat. She’d learned the importance of getting to the one privvy early, before the rest of the tenants in the building started queuing for it. Still half asleep, he proceeded to do his duty while Ruby held on to him, making sure he didn’t fall down the long drop of the tippler lavatory as some small children had been known to do.

‘Is it today we see the ships, Ruby?’ He started to scratch the rash of eczema on his knees and Ruby gently stopped him. ‘It is, Billy.’

‘I mean to go on a big ship meself, one day.’

‘’Course you do, love.’

Back in the cellar Ruby gave him a thorough scrubbing with carbolic soap, paying particular attention to behind his ears, making him yelp in protest, before quickly dressing him and leaving him to pull on his own socks and clasp his clogs while she turned her attention to Pearl. ‘Aren’t you up yet, you lazy tyke? Our Billy’s up and dressed already. So am I. Come on, breakfast is nearly ready. And there’s jam!’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming. Stop yer nagging.’

When still she made no move, Ruby half dragged her from beneath the covers and Pearl let out a yowl of indignant protest when a wet flannel was slapped on her face.

Giggling, Ruby shared a conspiratorial glance with Mam, who was carefully scraping margarine on to thick slices of bread at the old wooden table which they grandly called ‘the kitchen’, though there was no stove and anything they needed to cook had to be taken down to the bakehouse on Clarendon Road. Ruby didn’t mind the closeness of their living quarters because she never felt alone there. The cellar might smell of boiled cabbage and bad drains, be running with damp, thick with cockroaches and the peeling wallpaper someone had once optimistically put on alive with fleas, but it was their sanctuary and she felt safe in it.

This was because Mam guarded her precious charges every minute of the day, save for the hours when she worked on the fish market and left them with Nellie Bradshaw, the old woman who lived directly above and spoiled them something wicked, though she’d scarcely two ha’pennies to rub together for herself. Nevertheless, Auntie Nellie, as she liked to be called, was a soft touch for a gob stopper or sherbet dab. If she’d no money for such a treat, she’d give them a crust of bread to chew on till their mam came home and, for this special day, had managed to get some flawed loom ends of cheap cotton from the mill and helped Mam to dye and make them up into brand new frocks for the two girls, the first they’d ever had in their lives, which proved that something important was going to happen. Ruby had sensed this anyway from the whispered conversations between the two women as they’d cut and stitched and made their plans.

‘I must have ‘em looking decent,’ her mam kept repeating, over and over. ‘I can’t let ‘em go if they don’t look respectable. And I’ll not have any toffee-nosed official think I don’t look after ‘em proper.’

‘No one would think such a thing, Molly, just look at their little faces. Picture of health they are - unlike you, chuck. A good long rest is what’s needed to set you right. Anyroad, we’re probably wasting us time when they’ll only be given summat different the minute they get there. Eeh, but I’ll miss you when you’ve all gone.’

Puzzling over this mysterious conversation, Ruby wondered if perhaps the Queen herself might be handing out new clothes down by the canal, though this seemed unlikely. And why should Auntie Nellie miss them? They’d only be gone for a few hours, wouldn’t they? But then it was probably just that Mam had been planning this day for weeks, and seemed feverishly determined that all must go smoothly. She absolutely insisted that no matter what the cost, both her girls should be dressed up to the nines for the day and although Ruby might protest that it was unnecessary, she was secretly delighted with her dress.

It was navy blue, fastened down one side with shiny brass buttons they’d bought on the Flat Iron Market, and with a white sailor collar trimmed with a paler blue braid. Once she’d finished her breakfast, Ruby was at last allowed to put the dress on, smoothing the crisp new cotton with awed reverence. Then Mam set about braiding her long brown hair. It was always worn this way so she didn’t catch anything, but, in honour of this day, the plaits were fastened with stripy ribbons, of which Ruby was inordinately proud. So pleased was she with the effect, she didn’t even wince or complain whenever Mam pulled the hair tight on her scalp.

By the time this onerous task was completed, Pearl too was up and dressed in a sailor frock identical in every way save for its being a paler blue, because pastel colours suited her fair colouring.

Billy looked a proper little sailor boy, Mam said, in a carefully darned navy jersey and cut down trousers that covered the worst of the scabs on his knees. The minute he put on the sailor collar and smart blue sailor’s hat, he kept saluting and barking out orders, just as if he were captain of a big ship and they were his crew.

‘Aye, aye, Cap’n,’ Ruby would laughingly reply, pleased to see her little brother so happy.

As for Molly McBride herself, Ruby thought she’d never seen her mother look more beautiful. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat smothered in artificial flowers atop her knob of brown hair, tilted to an angle that would shade the purplish stains beneath her eyes. She had on her best blue-and-white-striped blouse above her Sunday skirt and Ruby felt quite certain that the McBride family could be taken for royalty themselves, so fine were their outfits. She could hardly wait another minute for the celebrations to begin.

 

Chapter Two

The grey clouds and threat of rain did not in any way detract from the excitement of the day so far as Ruby was concerned. By eleven o’clock they’d found themselves a spot among the crowds on Salford docks and settled to wait the long hours until the royal train carrying Queen Victoria was due to arrive at London Road Station. Mam explained how the royal procession would be led by the Duke of Lancaster’s Own Yeomen Cavalry as well as mounted police, and would include the Lord Mayor, the Lord High Sheriff and other civic dignitaries. They’d make their way along Moseley Street, Stretford Road and Trafford Road for the opening ceremony. The Royal Standard already flew above the town hall in readiness.

Ruby loved to see the dull, grey, cobbled streets all trimmed up with bright bunting, flags of the empire and dozens of Union flags, as well as being filled with people eager to see the Queen. Even the sun peeped out from behind heavy clouds from time to time, as if doing its utmost to play its part but not quite managing it. She could hear the band playing marching music and people joining in with a song or two, whenever they knew the words.

After they’d eaten their jam butties Molly agreed to allow Billy to go off and explore the docks with a group of older boys, with strict instructions that he behave and not get up to mischief.

‘See you stick hold of Cally’s hand.’ Cally, being an older boy of fourteen, could, in Molly’s opinion, be trusted.

‘If you get lost, you’ll end up a vagrant in the workhouse, like them poor mites over there.’

She indicated a nearby stand filled with children from the Salford Workhouse. They looked strangely silent and forlorn in their institutional garb and with their solemn, wizened little faces, quite at odds with the jovial attitude of the people around them. Billy tossed them a withering glance, spat on his hand and said, ‘Cross me heart, hope to die, I’ll be good as gold. I promise, Mam.’ Filled with self-importance and thrilled to be allowed to go off with the big boys, he would have agreed to anything.

‘Can I go too?’ Pearl wanted to know.

‘No, you can’t. Why would girls want to look at ships?’

‘I don’t, but why should our Billy get all the fun? Anyroad, it’s better’n sitting here, doing nothing.’

‘Cuddle yer dolly,’ Mam told her as she turned up the cuffs of Billy’s jersey sleeves, which were rather long, and fondly kissed his cheek. Embarrassed by this show of affection, he rubbed at the offending spot. `Aw, Mam.’

‘See that yer back here by three o’clock, and not a minute after.’ Molly worried a good deal about her youngest child. He’d been sickly as a baby and now caught every cough and cold going, as well as suffering badly from eczema. She constantly had to wrap his chest in goose fat and brown paper, not that it did the slightest bit of good.

‘I will, Mam.’ He was already wriggling free of her clinging hold.

‘Think on, or I’ll murder thee meself,’ she called to his rapidly retreating back. ‘Here, you’ve forgotten yer ship.’ She waved the wooden toy in the air but Billy paid no attention. He was far too busy looking at real ones.

Mam had insisted that they all bring something with them. Ruby had brought
Robinson Crusoe,
her favourite book. In point of fact, her only book. Although she’d read it a dozen times already from cover to cover, she never tired of the tales of adventure within. Pearl had chosen her rag doll, Sally Ann, which she’d been happily clasping in her arms until her mother told her to play with it, after which she tossed the doll aside, as if it had personally offended her, then sat frowning and pouting in a heavy sulk.

Ruby paid little attention either to her sister’s sulks or her own book for, despite the long wait all through a gloomy afternoon, there was far too much going on to be bored. There was the procession of ships on the Ship Canal, hawkers plying their wares, selling toffee apples, monkeys on sticks and little flags to wave at the Queen. It didn’t matter to Ruby that she’d no money to buy any of these things, for there was sufficient bustle of activity amongst the patiently waiting crowds to keep her amused. Even when there was nothing much to see at all, she was content just to sit quietly, with her hands in her lap, and feel very grand in her smart new frock.

By mid-afternoon a thin drizzle started and it was then that Molly began to cough. It made her double up with agony and she strove to stifle the sound in her pocket handkerchief, not wanting any fuss, as was her wont. Ruby cast anxious, sideways glances in her direction, then up at the obstinately grey sky. If only the sun would come out and stay out, and warm them all up! Instead, they began to shiver after the long wait on the cold cobbles. After a while Molly stood up, straining to see over heads and catch a glimpse, not of the Queen as everyone might assume, but of her absent son.

‘Where is our Billy? He should be back by now. Didn’t you hear the clock strike four, Ruby? I’ll swear it must be gone four.’

‘I think it was only three, Mam.’

‘He’ll be all right. He always is,’ Pearl snapped.

‘Don’t you give me any of your lip, girl. You know nowt about the agonies of being a mother.’

‘How could I? I’m only eight. Is there anything more to eat? I’m hungry.’

BOOK: Ruby McBride
7.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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