The Dollmaker's Daughters (41 page)

At first, Matron Luckes was reluctant to take Ruby back on the wards, but eventually she agreed that she could work just a few hours a day, using her free time for resting and studying. Ruby’s request to be sent back to South Africa was turned down flat and she knew better than to argue with the indomitable Miss Luckes. Even so, once she started back on the wards, Ruby realised that she was not as fit as she had thought. She tired easily and was glad when her shifts ended and she could put her feet up and open her books to study.

At home, Ruby was alarmed to see how exhausted her mother seemed to be at the end of each day. Getting up at first light and going to the bakery was obviously beginning to take its toll on her health. Ruby worried to see her mother looking paper thin, with bruise-like shadows beneath her eyes and skin the colour of parchment, but telling her to slow down was as
useless as ordering the Thames to stop flowing. Granny Mole was as obstreperous as ever, sitting in the corner demanding food like a fledgling gannet and just as noisy. Rosetta remained in Jonas’s house in Raven Street and it was only when Tucker came to bring a few things that Ruby had left behind that she found out that Jonas had paid off Lottie’s creditors and was having major alterations done to the interior of her house. Lottie had moved in with Jonas, and here Tucker had grimaced horribly, suggesting that this had not found favour with him. Mr Jonas had locked up all the booze, making it impossible for Miss Lottie to get a drink. There’d been ructions at first but, he said, she was calming down a bit now.

Ruby had not dug any deeper but Tucker had volunteered the opinion that it was a pity she had not stayed on, as things hadn’t been the same in Raven Street since she left. Mr Jonas was rarely at home, off doing business in the City, and when he was there he shut himself in his office, probably in Tucker’s opinion, to keep away from two women who could talk the hind leg off a donkey.

Ruby had tried to put Jonas out of her mind, concentrating all her efforts on work and study, but still the memory of that last searing kiss haunted her dreams, coming back to her unexpectedly at quiet moments during the day
and filling her heart and body with a savage longing that made her blush. He had not tried to contact her and, illogically, that hurt too. If he had truly loved her as he had said, then surely he would have tried to see her at least once. And if he had, she would have sent him away, wouldn’t she? Her feelings for Adam had dulled with the passing of time; his face was a blur in her memory and the sound of his voice like a half-forgotten song. There had been no letter from him, but then she had hardly expected that he would write. With Pamela gone, there was nothing left for them to say to each other. Then, one morning on duty, she overheard two young registrars chatting and, when Adam’s name cropped up, Ruby almost dropped the kidney dish filled with soiled dressings that she was taking to the sluice. They had passed by her but she ran after them, catching one of them by the sleeve.

‘Excuse me, doctor, but did I hear you mention Dr Adam Fairfax?’

‘You know him, Nurse?’

‘I served with him in South Africa. He was engaged to my best friend.’

‘Ah yes, bad business that. Very sad.’ He smiled down at Ruby. ‘Adam was badly wounded by shrapnel from a bursting shell. He’s at home recuperating, poor old chap.’

She had to see him. There was nothing for it
but to risk being humiliated by the stuck-up servants who protected the Fairfax family like snarling bull terriers. Ruby knew in her heart that she had to see Adam again, if only to convince herself that she had got over him. A tumult of confused emotions kept her awake at night; first it would be Adam’s clean-cut, handsome face that came to her but then, like the rumblings of an approaching storm, Jonas would come striding into her dreams; dark and satanic, but with the ability to turn her blood into fire sending common sense and decency straight out of the window.

On her day off, Ruby put on her best print dress over a petticoat of bright moreen, trimmed with frills of glacé silk so that it rustled as she walked. The petticoat had cost Jonas the massive sum of eight shillings and sixpence, and was a shocking extravagance, but wearing it made Ruby feel like a real lady. Fixing her straw boater at a jaunty angle, she felt ready to face anything, even the awesome Mrs Fairfax, should she be unlucky enough to bump into Adam’s mother.

Ruby set off for Highgate, walking at a brisk pace but, having reached the Monument and beginning to feel the effects of the hot August sun, she threw economy to the winds and caught an omnibus to Regent’s Park. Making an effort to keep to the shade of the trees, she stopped only once to sip water from a drinking fountain and
then set off again, trudging up the hump of Primrose Hill. Pausing for a moment on the top, her hot cheeks fanned by a light breeze, she wiped a trickle of sweat from her face, but at least it was not far now to the Fairfaxes’ home in Highgate. By the time she reached the impressive house in the tree-lined avenue, she was perspiring freely and she could feel the cotton of her frock sticking between her shoulder blades with damp patches spreading beneath her armpits. Even the glacé silk frills on her petticoat were wilting and had lost some of their rustle.

The butler stared at her impassively and for a moment Ruby thought he was going to turn her away, but then he nodded and stood aside for her to enter the cool, encaustic-tiled entrance hall. ‘Wait there, Miss, and I’ll see if Dr Fairfax is at home.’

Catching sight of herself in a wall mirror, Ruby’s hand flew up to straighten her hat that had tipped to one side at a rakish angle. Her face was flushed and trickles of sweat ran down her cheeks. Wiping them off with the back of her gloved hand, Ruby was horrified to see that she had smudged a sooty smut making it run in a long streak down the side of her face. She was scrubbing at it with her hanky when the butler reappeared and signalled her to follow him. A quick glance in one of the gilt-framed hall mirrors reassured her that the smudge had gone;
squaring her shoulders, Ruby followed the butler through the spacious drawing room.

The conservatory was filled with ferns and exotic flowering plants and the scent of white stephanotis and tiger lilies was almost suffocating. Adam lay on a couch with an electric fan whirring noisily at his side.

‘The young person, Sir.’

‘Ruby.’ Adam held out his hand, smiling. ‘How nice to see you again.’

‘How are you, Adam? I heard that you’d been wounded.’ Ruby stood awkwardly, hands behind her back, eyeing him and wishing suddenly that she had not come. Adam’s lean face was tanned to walnut brown, his eyes startlingly blue against his dark skin. His hair, bleached white by the sun, flopped down over his forehead making him look ridiculously young; quite suddenly she felt shy.

‘It was so good of you to come, Ruby. Do sit down. You’re making my neck ache staring up at you.’

Pulling up a rattan chair, Ruby sat down beside him, folding her hands in her lap. ‘How are you, really?’

Adam shrugged, glancing at his heavily bandaged leg propped up on cushions. ‘My leg took the blast. It’s a bit of a mess but it’ll heal in time. How are you, Ruby? Although I don’t really need to ask. You look blooming.’

‘I’m quite better now. I’m doing some hours on the wards and studying the rest of the time.’

‘You’re a splendid nurse,’ Adam said, wincing with pain as he pulled himself to a more comfortable position. ‘You were wonderful to Pam and I’ll never forget it.’

‘Can I get you anything?’ Ruby asked, eyeing him anxiously.

‘No, I’m fine, but what sort of host am I? You must be hot and thirsty. Would you like something cold to drink?’

Ruby shook her head. It all seemed so strange and stilted, as if they were strangers now. The closeness they had shared on the outward sea voyage and during those terrible days of death and disaster in war-torn South Africa seemed like another lifetime. She barely knew what to say. ‘I won’t stay long. I don’t want to tire you.’

‘Stay for a while at least.’ Reaching over to a side table, Adam picked up a silver-framed photograph of Pamela, kissed it and set it gently back in its place. ‘You are the one person who knew Pam almost as well as I did. Everyone else clams up when I mention her name, afraid they’re going to upset me. I know I can say anything to you, Ruby.’

‘Yes,’ Ruby said, swallowing hard. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘But you must have some refreshment.’ Raising himself up on one elbow, Adam tugged
on a bell pull. ‘We’ll have some tea and muffins and you can tell me everything you can remember about Pam. You know, the things that you girls used to talk about when you were on your own.’

Ruby relaxed a little and smiled. ‘I’m not sure that would be such a good idea, but I’ll do my best.’

Over tea and muffins dripping in butter, Ruby talked until she was hoarse. Lying back against satin cushions, Adam listened quietly and then began to speak unashamedly of his love for Pamela and his terrible grief at her loss. Worn out with emotion, Ruby was just thinking it was time to leave when Mrs Fairfax swept into the conservatory. Memories of the humiliating events at the engagement party made the blood rush to Ruby’s cheeks.

‘Mother, you remember Ruby,’ Adam said, not seeming to notice the strained atmosphere. ‘Ruby was at our engagement party and we were all together in South Africa. Ruby was there at the very end.’ Adam’s voice broke on the last word.

Mrs Fairfax smiled with her lips but her eyes were cold. ‘How do you do?’

Getting to her feet, Ruby bobbed a curtsey. It seemed the right thing to do in the circumstances. Mrs Fairfax, in her cream silk afternoon
gown, overflowing with lace and pearls, and with her hair piled high in fashionable curls on the top of her head, looked so like photographs of the Princess of Wales that Ruby felt she was in the presence of royalty. ‘Nicely, thank you, Mrs Fairfax.’

‘It was kind of you to call,’ Mrs Fairfax said, raising her delicate blonde eyebrows so that they almost disappeared into her curly fringe. ‘But my son needs to rest. He is still far from well.’

‘Mother, I am a doctor. Ruby has done me more good than all the patent medicines put together.’

With her patrician nose in the air, Mrs Fairfax stared at Ruby as if she were looking down the double barrel of a shotgun. ‘I’m sure she has.’

‘I really must go,’ Ruby said, backing towards the French windows that led into the garden.

‘You will come again?’ Adam said anxiously. ‘Please say you will, Ruby.’

Her fingers twined round the door handle, Ruby hesitated. ‘Yes, if you want me to.’

‘Not that way.’ Mrs Fairfax swooped on the bell pull, giving it a sharp tug. ‘Jenkins will show you out. We can’t have a guest leaving through the tradesmen’s entrance.’

Feeling like a naughty child sent home from school by an irate headmistress, Ruby was escorted to the front door by the disapproving butler, who seemed to suspect that she might
well pinch the family silver on the way out. At the end of the path, she paused, taking a long look at the elegant house surrounded by a well-kept garden. The air was filled with birdsong and the jewel-bright colours of butterflies attracted by the honeysweet scent of buddleia and roses. With the uncomfortable knowledge that she was as unwelcome and out of place here as a sparrow in an aviary full of hummingbirds, Ruby knew for certain that this wealthy, well-ordered world belonged to Adam. If she had harboured any doubts beforehand, Ruby realised that she would never fit into this stultified way of life, and her love for Adam had been nothing more than infatuation. She had fallen in love with a handsome face and an impossible dream. She had mistaken his kindness and good manners for affection, and Ruby knew now that Adam had always belonged heart and soul to Pamela. Although how Pam could have contemplated taking on Mrs Fairfax as her mother-in-law, Ruby could not even begin to imagine. She turned resolutely in the direction of Primrose Hill and started walking.

By the time Ruby reached home, Tobacco Court was drowned by deep shadow, even though there were still several hours until dusk. As she turned the corner from Spivey Street, Ruby knew that there was something wrong. Neighbours
were huddled in their doorways and they stopped talking when they saw her. Breaking into a run, Ruby arrived outside the house to find the front door open.

She went in and found Billy standing in the middle of the room, tousle-haired and flushed, as if he had just come straight from the bakehouse.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ruby cried, alarmed by his grim expression. ‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s your mum. She had a funny turn. I brought her straight home and sent Elsie for the doctor. He’s with her now.’

‘Holy Mother of God.’

Ruby made for the stairs, but the doctor was already on his way down.

His taut features relaxed into a smile. ‘Ruby, I’m glad you’re here.’

‘How is she, Doctor? Is it serious?’

‘It’s her heart, I’m afraid. I’ve done all I can, my dear, but I think you’d best send for your sister.’

‘Tell Billy to go away. I don’t want to see him.’ Rosetta pushed her plate away, the food barely touched.

Tucker stood his ground. ‘He says it’s urgent, Miss, and if you don’t come out and see him, he’ll come and get you.’

‘Bloody cheek!’ Pushing her chair back from the table, Rosetta jumped to her feet.

‘Best hear what he’s got to say,’ Lottie said, wiping her lips on a napkin.

‘I’ll soon sort him out.’ Rosetta strode out of the dining room, slamming the door behind her. Billy came towards her, his cap clutched in his hand. Alarmed by his sombre expression, Rosetta went on the attack. ‘I told you not to bother me again.’

‘I’ve got some bad news.’

Her hand flying to her throat, Rosetta felt the air being sucked from her lungs as if someone had punched her in the stomach. ‘Martha?’

‘No, not Martha, she’s fine. It’s your mum, Rose. She’s very poorly and the doctor says you must come quick.’

‘I don’t believe you. You’re lying, Billy, just to get me to come home.’

‘Honest to God, I’m telling you the truth, you silly cow.’