Ruby McBride (35 page)

She
must
be feeling poorly if the prospect of belonging at last to her beloved Kit didn’t fill her with the joy she’d expected. After all, hadn’t he been her childhood sweetheart? Hadn’t she pined for him year after year in the reformatory? Hadn’t she hated Bart for robbing her of the chance to be with him? So why didn’t she respond with more enthusiasm? Why was her heart racing, but not with excitement? It must be shock after the accident. What else could it be?
 

‘Yes,’ Ruby placated him. ‘Of course it’s what I want. But all in good time, eh?’

‘Never mind about all in good time, what we waiting for?’ He made a grab for her but she was saved from an unseemly tussle by the front door banging open and Pearl marching in.

‘By heck, I’m fair starved, what’s for supper? Has anybody got the kettle on?’

Ruby was so pleased to see her sister at that moment, she actually laughed out loud. ‘That’s our Pearl, popping in and out at all hours and demanding sustenance, just as if she owned the place.’

An hour later she was behaving very much as if she did. It was Ruby who cooked supper, despite she being the one grieving. Pearl launched into a long-drawn-out description of a yellow striped frock she’d tried on in Kendal Milnes, wondering if she could increase her charges at the pub to allow her to buy it. Ruby said nothing, not in the mood for Pearl’s ramblings right now. Her head was throbbing and she slipped quietly off to bed, leaving the pair making themselves very much at home, Pearl chattering twenty to the dozen and Kit pouring himself yet another glass of stout.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Following the drowning Kit made no effort to leave, and Pearl too decided to move in, returning to Rochdale only for the odd evening’s work at the pub, or so Ruby believed. At first she was pleased. Hadn’t this been what she’d dreamed of for so long? But she’d forgotten how much mess her sister created, how she expected to be waited on hand, foot and finger, and never think to help with the cooking or the washing up.

Having Pearl live with her was not at all as Ruby had imagined it would be. The house was small, and the tug, where the three of them spent much of the week while they worked on the carrying, was smaller still.

For three people it meant a degree of tidiness beyond the norm if everyone was going to get along, and tidiness, along with consideration for others, was a skill Pearl had never acquired despite her years of discipline at Ignatius House and in the reformatory. Though she may have little in the way of clothes and possessions herself, perhaps because of this sad fact she felt free to use other people’s at will.

Ruby did her best to be understanding if she found her best dress lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, or her one and only pair of decent boots soaking wet after Pearl had borrowed them for a late-evening stroll.

‘Where was it that you had to go so urgently, and so late at night, that you must wear my boots?’

‘Are you saying that you begrudge me a pair what don’t leak?’

‘Certainly not. But it’s only good manners to ask permission first.’

‘You sound like Sister Joseph. I hadn’t realised you’d got so particular and so toffee-nosed. I’ll apply in writing next time, shall I?’ And she would flounce off in a huff, leaving Ruby feeling the guilty one.

She longed to pursue the matter of where exactly it was Pearl went to of an evening when she wasn’t at the pub, but knew she must tread warily because of her sister’s oversensitive nature. As she was fond of saying, whenever Ruby did attempt to broach the subject, ‘I’ve a right to me own life, haven’t I? And to me own friends?’

‘Of course you do. It’s just that I worry about you.’

‘Well, don’t. I’ve looked after myself all my life and I can manage to go on doing so without any help from you, ta very much.’

‘Oh, Pearl,’ Ruby sighed, wondering if her little sister would ever give her credit for at least trying to protect her as a child, both from starvation and the cruel menace of Sister Joseph whose evil Pearl had continually underestimated. ‘You know how much I care. Haven’t I always tried to make it up to you for not having a mother?’

‘I know that you abandoned me in the end, just like she did.’

‘Mam didn’t abandon us. She put us in a home because she was dying of consumption.’

‘Same thing.’

Ruby stifled a weary sigh, and gave up.

Pearl also openly flirted with Kit. They would often cast each other sidelong glances, and Pearl was always ready to serve his dinner, offer to help him take off his boots, fetch his coat or newspaper for him, like some sort of adoring slave, even as she did nothing to help Ruby in the house. And she would seek any opportunity to be close by his side where she could frequently touch his hand or shoulder, and laugh at his jokes.
 

Whether in the tiny house, or the close confines of the cabin, if he tried to squeeze past her
to fetch something for Ruby, she would block his path so he had to brush up against her, or she would bat her eyelashes up at him in that enticing way she had. On the rare occasions she was inveigled upon to make supper, she always succeeded in soliciting his help, as if she were incapable of so much as boiling an egg or peeling a potato without his manly assistance. But then what man could resist her sister’s abundant charms?

Watching this naked attempt to captivate him, and Kit’s response to the seductive teasing, Ruby found, to her great surprise, that she felt not the slightest prick of jealousy.

Living at last with her beloved Kit should have been a dream come true, but something was wrong. The free-and-easy chatter between the pair of them made her feel very much the outsider, an interloper in her own home. She couldn’t help but compare their teasing good humour with her own daily communication with Kit, confined to practical topics related to the barges. No intimate words or shared thoughts were ever exchanged between them.
 

And her desire for him physically seemed to be diminishing by the day. Instead, she kept recalling Bart’s love making, to which she had once so eagerly responded and now sadly missed.
 

Ruby was feeling utterly miserable and increasingly unwell. Not a day passed without her thinking of Bart. It surprised her how much she missed and grieved for him. She would lie in the quiet dark of the night, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes, a band of pain clenched tight about her heart. Could she possibly have felt more for him than she’d realised? Surely not. She’d hated him, hadn’t she? Yet she ached to see his handsome face again, for things to be as they once were, and to feel his arms about her. Ruby was filled with longing for him, and still often returned to the canal to search, half fearing what she might discover as there was little hope of finding him alive after all this time.
 

Having Pearl around at least helped to deflect gossip from nosy neighbours. Rumours about what exactly had happened to the baron were rife, and many uncomfortable questions were being asked, not least by Sparky. He came to the tug one morning when she was swilling down the decks.

‘Have you heard anything yet?’ he asked.

Ruby shook her head, not knowing quite what to say by way of a reply.

‘I reckon there must have been an accident?’

Her heart gave a loud thump. ‘Why do you think so?’

‘It isn’t like the baron to stop away this long. He promised me regular work. And he’d’ve told me if there was a problem.’ As if to add weight to his words, he started to coil rope too heavy for Ruby to manage.

‘You know Bart, he’s his own man, and likes to keep things close to his chest. But you can still have work, Sparky,’ she promised, suddenly realising that this was the answer to at least one of her problems. ‘I need you now more than ever.’ And she did, for who else had the knowledge of how to operate the barges? It wasn’t often that women took on the role of captain, and those who did were usually widows, like herself. And she surely owed it to Bart to keep his business going.

‘
What about that other chap I’ve seen hanging around? Are you employing him, an’ all?’

‘Kit Jarvis? Yes, I suppose I am.’

‘He’s one of your Pearl’s chaps, isn’t he? Is she stopping on with him?’

‘For a bit, yes.’ Ruby decided it might be better if the general opinion was that Kit and Pearl were a pair.

‘Given up on that other line of business then, has she?’ And he gave a lopsided sort of smile, almost a smirk.

Ruby frowned. ‘What line of business would that be, Sparky?’

He shuffled his feet and looked quickly away, recalling how dependent he was upon Ruby for a weekly wage coming in, if the baron was going to be away for a while. Wouldn’t do to be too nosy and upset her. ‘Serving drinks behind the bar in a Rochdale pub, I heard.’

Ruby smiled. ‘Oh, she still goes there occasionally, though she claims it’s only to see her friends. But really she loves to have a bit of money of her own, never having had any before.’

‘Aye, right.’ He nodded, eyes narrowing as he tried to puzzle out whether this remark meant Ruby understood perfectly what it was her sister got up to in that pub, or was completely ignorant. Knowing her as he did, he decided on the latter. Too sweet and trusting for her own good, that little lass. Now he cleared his throat. preparatory to what was obviously going to be a difficult question. ‘I was wondering - if you don’t mind me asking like. . .’ He stopped, chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then started again. ‘I mean - if he’s going to be away for a while - what’ll happen to the burial club? He hasn’t taken it with him, has he? It’s not me what’s worried about it, you understand, but there are some as are asking questions.’

Ruby hastened to reassure him. ‘No, of course he hasn’t taken it with him. The money is quite safely invested, and the books of reckoning are all here, in this metal box.’ She felt a constriction of emotion block her throat as she remembered the care Bart had taken over administering the burial club for the water folk. ‘Yes, I can see that they would be concerned. What d’you suggest we do about it, Sparky?’

‘I could ask around. Find someone reliable to take it over like.’

‘That would be wise,’ and they looked at each bleakly, for this decision was tantamount to admitting that Bart hadn’t simply gone away for a short time, but may not be coming back at all.

The reason for feeling unwell soon became all too clear to Ruby. She was pregnant. A quick calculation in her head gave her the answer, and the tenderness of her breasts and feeling sick each morning confirmed it. She was carrying Bart’s child. It made her weep all the more to think how happy such news would have made him. How he would have rejoiced. Time and again he’d talked of starting a family, as if doing so would turn her into a true wife and make her love him. Yet she’d always managed to talk him out of the idea, besotted as she was with Kit, her childhood sweetheart. And now that it was actually about to happen, she felt grief and excitement in equal proportions. What on earth was wrong with her?

She kept her condition secret, wishing to sort out these confused emotions before she divulged it, but then one night Kit came to her room and tapped on the door.
 

‘Let me in, Ruby love. It’s long past time you and me got together. What do you say? It’s cold and lonely in that back room on me own. Let me in.’

Ruby lay beneath the green silk coverlet in the big double bed, where Bart had taught her the meaning of passion, and knew in her heart that she had no wish to take Kit into her bed, not just yet anyway. Why she felt this way she couldn’t quite fathom, not after wanting him for so long.

Slipping across the room on bare feet she silently slid the bolt in place, then crept back to bed. Minutes later the tapping came again, and the door handle turned. But finding it locked, and presumably deciding that she must be asleep, Kit lost patience and gave up. When she heard his steps fade away along the landing Ruby sighed with relief. The next night he came again, and the one after that, loudly rattling the handle, as if in a fury.

‘Let me in, Ruby. You know you want this as much as I do.’

Ruby flung open the door, smiling kindly as she saw his face light up with hope. ‘I knew you’d come round in the end,’ he said, looking pleased with himself.

‘Kit, I’m sorry but this has to stop.’

‘What d’you mean? Why should it stop?’

‘Please leave me alone. It’s too soon. I’m not ready. Perhaps I’m still grieving for a lost husband.’

‘Never, I don’t believe it! You hated him. You and me were meant for each other. Let me in.’

‘Not tonight, Kit. Not just yet, I’m sorry.’

Turning on his heel he strode away in a huff, clearly angry, as she quietly closed the door preparatory to going back to bed. Then Ruby heard the tapping again, this time on Pearl’s door. Startled, she held her breath, listening carefully as she heard the door open, a few hushed words exchanged, then it closed again.