Читать книгу The Orphan Thief - Glynis Peters - Страница 11
Оглавление25th November 1940
‘Excuse me. Was this your house?’
Ruby approached a woman perched on an upturned metal bucket, staring at a partial end of terrace house. The exposed interior showed brown striped wallpaper, a badly damaged horse-hair sofa, and she could see the building meant a lot to the woman. Large teardrops trailed from her chin, and she snuffled into a grey-white handkerchief.
‘I came back for my stuff, but I can’t find a thing.’ The woman waved her hand in front of her. ‘I’m exhausted. Too tired to look.’
Ruby didn’t like to say she looked worn to the bone, but that was exactly what the woman presented. A washed out, hollow-cheeked living ghost with black rings framing terrified eyes.
‘I lost everything too. It’s frightening, isn’t it? Have you found much yet?’ Ruby asked.
‘Only bits and pieces, and I haven’t got time to find more. I’ve got to get food for the kids. You stood in a queue yet? Murder on your feet, and nothing to sing home about at the end.’
‘I’ve stood in one. Three hours. Listen, go and get food for your children. I’ll scout around here and anything I find, I’ll store … er … over there,’ Ruby said, and pointed to a lopsided shed.
‘That’s very kind, but why? Why would you do this for me? A stranger?’
‘We have to pull together. And I’ll be honest with you. In a few months I’m getting a business licence to set up a shop repairing and selling unwanted items, or ones I’ve been given permission to salvage.’
‘How do I know you won’t take anything today?’ the woman said, and gave Ruby a frown.
Ruby clasped her hands together, then wiped them down her dress. They would not warm up with the cold wind and fresh sleet falling feather-like to the ground. She held her right arm out and flexed her fingers in readiness to shake hands.
‘Trust. We have to have trust between us; that’s all this city has left. I promise – promise to help you. I have nothing in my life except this new idea. No family, and no home of my own. I have to wait for the licence, but was told I could approach people like yourself. You are the first and I’ll be honest, at sixteen I’m finding this hard, but I have to survive, to carry on the Shadwell name.’
‘Shadwell?’ The woman rose to her feet. ‘As in Shadwell the grocer?’
Ruby lowered her head; just hearing someone else mention her family name and business was painful. She held her breath for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she said.
‘All gone? What a loss. Your dad gave me extras at the end of the week for the kids. I’ve four, and their dad’s away fighting. Your dad was a good man. Churchgoer like my mam. Girl, take anything broken and if you think you can fix it, sell it and get your shop going. Good for you. Brave girl. I’ll go and get food for the little ones; you have my trust,’ the woman said and took Ruby’s hands in hers.
As she walked away, she turned back and called out to Ruby. ‘By the way, what will you call your shop, just so I know what to look for if I find stuff I don’t want, or something I need?’
‘Shadwell’s Buy and Sell,’ Ruby replied. The name rolled off her tongue with ease for the first time. It came to her in that split second. It was meant to be and gave her a warm sensation of pride.
‘Sounds a good name to me. Good luck.’
Watching the woman pick her way out of the street, Ruby felt a strange sense of peace wash over her. She lifted her head skyward and smiled.
‘There you all are. Watching over me. I know you’re there; I’d never have thought of that name alone … Oh, and if you can think of how I might buy things with no money, I’d be grateful if you could let me know!’
With a light-hearted giggle, she blew a kiss to the clouds. Something had changed during her conversation with the woman. She’d found a friend. For Ruby, it was a crutch, something to hold onto during the dark, grey day – and beyond.
A fork here, spoons there, cracked plates, pillows, cushions, whole sideboard drawers were piling high inside the shed. No longer cold, Ruby worked with steadfast determination to find as much as she could for the family. Even a one-armed teddy bear lay, waiting to be reunited with its owner. Baby clothes made a large pile of messy washing, and Ruby didn’t envy the woman the task of cleaning them. With limited water, it was virtually impossible to wash her own clothing, but Ruby debated taking them home, then reminded herself of the pact she’d made. To take them away was not an option but, then again, they were in need of repair of sorts, and she was allowed to take what she wanted according to that conversation.
Around two in the afternoon, the woman reappeared with her family in tow. She hitched a baby on her hip whilst the others, the eldest no older than six, ran around the grounds of what had once been their home. A little girl ran to the teddy bear and squealed with delight.
‘Ah, you found Ted, thank goodness. Now maybe she’ll sleep at night.’
They walked to the shed and the heap of broken items, and Ruby opened the door.
The woman gasped with delight. ‘My word, you’ve worked hard. Look what you’ve found. I’ll have a word with my brother-in-law and he’ll come with his cart and take it to his. That’s where we’re living now. His wife never made it, and he needs help with his little ones. Seven kids between us. What I don’t want, I’ll know where it can be of use. My other sister has lost her home and moved back to my parents. Once she’s in a new place I’ll give them to her.’
Ruby walked to the pile of clothes. ‘I’ll wash these for you if you’d like,’ she said, and lifted a tiny cardigan, ingrained with black soot.
‘No, you take them. I’ve plenty between all seven of the little ones to keep me going. Sell them if you can. Grow that business.’
Smiling, the woman picked out a little pair of grey shorts. ‘School shorts. My eldest’s first pair. Someone will be grateful for them.’
A loud bang made both women jump and the children scream. The youngsters clustered around their mother, and Ruby stood with her hand over her mouth. A plume of smoke rose at the rear of the property.
‘Another incendiary late for the party,’ said the woman, her arms sheltering children like a mother hen under her wings.
‘They never fail to make my nerves tingle,’ Ruby replied.
‘Nor mine. Come on, kids. Home. We have food!’
The excited group walked away, and Ruby watched on with envy. She gulped back dark thoughts and headed home herself.
Once indoors, she gathered up matches and headed outside again to light a small fire to heat a saucepan of water. She’d always be grateful to Stephen for his collection of tea, coffee and cocoa. More evidence her father had paid his bills in goods. Each packet wore the ornate S stamp of Shadwell’s – one she was determined to use for her own business. The form given to her by Helen sat on the desk and, once settled with a warm drink, she entered the shop name in its appropriate box, using Stephen’s fountain pen and her best handwriting. Seeing the words on official paper made her smile. It indicated another step towards a brighter future.
Keeping busy during the day helped Ruby, but the evenings were lonely and the night-time frightening. Planes flew overhead and bombs dropped in the distance. A few days previously, the Germans had bombed Birmingham, and Coventry had held its breath every day since, waiting for more to fall on the factories returning to production of vital supplies for the forces. Car production was on hold, and everyone worked to defend the country.
10th December 1940
Each day, Ruby kept herself busy finding personal items for residents, and leaving them in boxes to be found should the owner return. After one particularly busy day, she returned home to find a white envelope pushed through the door. It was a response from Scotland. She marvelled at how quickly she’d received a response, tore it open and pulled out the contents.
Dear Miss Shadwell,
It is with regret I inform you that my wife passed away two years ago. I’ve sought advice about the property you mention, and it appears it is rented accommodation. With regard to the funeral of my brother-in-law, thank you for informing me. I have no desire to become involved in his affairs. I have written a second letter giving you the right to clear the property and sell items to fund any outstanding bills. We were distanced due to a rift between him and his sister, and I am not interested in any contact with regard to the matter. Please do not write again, nor pass along my address to a third person.
Regards,
Thomas McBrae
Ruby read the second letter, written in the same handwriting.
25th November 1940
To Whom it May Concern,
As the heir to my wife’s estate, and she to her brother’s, Mr Stephen Archibald Peabody of Garden Cottage, Spon Street, Coventry, I hereby give permission to Miss Ruby Shadwell, of the same address, permission to collect and sell personal items belonging to Mr Peabody (my brother-in-law), and use the money for any outstanding debts. Any monies remaining, Miss Shadwell is free to keep in repayment for her work in housekeeping the property after the death of Stephen Peabody.
The letter was witnessed and signed by the Reverend Burns of Dumfries, and formally signed by the sender. Ruby read through both a second and third time, and each time she realised she now had responsibilities beyond her comprehension. Where did you find a landlord of a property if he’d not already been to find out if the property was still standing? How long would it take for her to raise the money to pay for any rent Stephen owed?
Although she’d peeked into the odd drawer or cupboard, Ruby had never fully investigated Stephen’s belongings. Now it appeared she’d been given permission to do just that, and more. Since the bombing, her life had become quite bizarre – beyond a believable story – yet here she was, living it each day.
