14
SAM
November–December
‘What’s wrong?’ Jimmy said as he came into our hut. ‘You look like you lost a dollar and found a cent. Ain’t you coming up to the rec hall to watch the film?’
I slumped on my bunk and sighed. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
‘Is this ’cause of Sunday?’
‘I don’t get it. Why wasn’t she there? And what was she doing in town?’
I’d followed her map across the fields and through the woods to Barton Hall, and found the lodge just where she’d marked it, a squat building with arched windows and two clusters of narrow chimneys. A couple of small stone figures stained with moss and algae – they looked like dragons or something – crouched at either end of the sagging roof. I’d called Ruby’s name softly and tapped on a couple of the boarded-up windows. But no one answered.
Around back, one of the boards across the windows was loose, and there was no glass in the frame. I’d managed to pull the board aside and make a big enough gap to climb in. ‘Ruby,’ I’d called softly. ‘You here?’
But there’d been no answer.
Snapping on my army-issue torch, I’d prowled around the lodge for a bit. The window I’d climbed through was at one end of a long sitting room with a sofa and chairs still arranged around the fireplace. Next door was a bedroom, empty except for an iron bedstead, and a kitchen with a range and a table and chairs. There was dust everywhere, the paper stained with damp, and in places the plaster had come down from the ceiling. It looked as if no one had been in here for a very long time. And there was no Ruby.
Climbing back outside, I’d sat down on the wall to wait, keeping an eye out in case someone else came along and I had to duck behind it. Maybe she’d gotten held up.
Fifteen minutes had turned into thirty, and then to an hour. Eventually I’d walked back into town where I’d met Jimmy, and seen her getting into that van.
‘Something came up, that’s all,’ Jimmy said placidly.
‘Yeah, so why didn’t she try and get a message to me?’ I stared at the ceiling, remembering the look on her face when she’d seen me and the way she’d shaken her head at me, almost scowling.
Jimmy clapped me on the arm. ‘Forget about it. There’s a million other girls round here who’d give their right arm to spend time with you – why don’t you go out with one of them?’
‘Because I don’t want to.’
He sighed. ‘C’mon.’
Reluctantly, I followed him to the rec hall. The film was just starting – some Charlie Chaplin thing. We slipped into the back of the room and grabbed the last couple of spare chairs.
‘Sam. Sam. Psst!’ someone whispered, and touched my arm. I looked round and in the semi-darkness, saw a woman sitting on the other side of me with Stanley Novak: Ruby’s pal Vera. She leaned towards me, holding something out. ‘I’ve got a message for you from Ruby.’
I tucked it into my shirt pocket, not wanting Freddie Gardner or any of his goons, across the room, to see. Vera gave me a grin and a thumbs up.
I slipped outside again to read the note.
Dear Sam, it said. I am SO SORRY. My father is ill and Grandmother arrived on Sunday afternoon, a whole three weeks early! (She says it’s because she couldn’t bear the thought of still being there when the Allied forces began moving in to take over the place.) There was no question of me getting away, even to the lodge, and when you saw me in town I’d just met Grandmother off the bus so I had to pretend I didn’t know who you were.
We’ll have to be very careful from now on. Vera has agreed to bring my messages up to the camp now (I hope you don’t mind that I told her about us!) so as soon as Father is better and things have settled down a bit with Grandmother I’ll arrange a time when we can meet. Look out for my next message!
R x
I tore a page out of my notebook and scribbled a reply.
Dear Ruby, don’t apologise. Hope everything’s OK and sorry to hear that things are a bit difficult at the moment. I don’t mind waiting at all. Get in touch when you can.
Sam
I thought about adding an x of my own, but I hesitated – what if she thought it was too much? Instead I drew a little sketch of a soldier leaning on an American-style mailbox, an eager grin on his face. Back in the rec hall, I sat down next to Jimmy and leaned over to tap Vera on the arm. ‘Here,’ I whispered, handing her the note.
‘I’ll make sure she gets it,’ she whispered back, putting it in her handbag. She murmured something to Stanley, who was watching us. He nodded, grinned, and gave me a wink, whilst Jimmy looked on, a curious half-smile on his face.
*
The very next day, there was a letter waiting for me, but it wasn’t from Ruby. It took me a moment or two to recognise the handwriting on the envelope; I tore it open with shaking hands.
Dear Sam,
I know you didn’t want me to know where you are but I begged Mr Addison to tell me until he gave in. Please don’t worry, I have not told Kirk or anyone else and I will not try to make you come home, but I wanted to say thank you for the money you have sent. Mr Addison is letting me keep it at the store. It is a real load off my mind to not have to worry about food or paying the bills. Kirk has not noticed yet and I am being very careful.
Meggie is doing well. She is growing fast and her teacher tells me she is top of the class at her school. She keeps asking where you are. I don’t want her to worry so I have told her that you have gone away to find work.
Please stay safe, Sam, and write back to me when you can.
Your loving Ma (and kisses from Meggie)
The letter was dated almost a month ago, but that didn’t matter; I sat down on the edge of my bunk, relief washing over me. Ma and Meggie were OK! And Ma was getting my money. Thank God. Thank God. I wrote her back that evening, addressing my reply to Mr Addison’s store and including an extra check so she could buy Meggie something nice for Christmas.
The next day, mine and Jimmy’s unit was put on night exercises, going out in convoys to remote stretches of coast in the south of the county. After that, we had a few days off. There’d still been no word from Ruby so, reluctantly, I agreed to go to Rainbow Corner, the American Red Cross Club near Piccadilly Circus in London, with Jimmy, Stanley and another pal of ours, Davy Manganello.
London was quite a change from sleepy Devon. It was jarring to see bombed-out buildings and piles of rubble everywhere, while inside the club and the shops there were Christmas decorations hung up and we were going to dances and dinners and listening to bands play. How did people cope, living amongst such destruction? Everyone seemed excited that we were there, especially the women, but I wasn’t interested in any of them; the only girl I had eyes for was Ruby. I missed her terribly. What if there was a message waiting for me back at the camp?
On our second day in the city, I found myself wandering through a narrow little back street near the club. Jimmy and the others were still there, playing cards and eating donuts, but I needed some fresh air so I’d made my excuses and ducked out for a while. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere in particular, but up ahead, I caught sight of a crooked, narrow little building with a hand-painted sign above the door: Second-hand books bought and sold. As I climbed the steps and pushed the door, a bell jangled madly, reminding me of Mr Addison’s store.
The bookstore was a dim, hushed labyrinth of book-laden shelves, the air filled with the smell of ink and dust. I breathed in deeply, marvelling that such a place could exist right in the middle of a place like London. Ruby would love it here, I thought as I stood in the middle of the floor, looking round at it all in wonder.
‘Finer than wine, that smell, eh, young man?’
A voice behind me made me jump. I looked round and saw a guy with a white moustache and beard standing behind me. He was like something out of a Dickens novel. ‘That’s the smell of words,’ he said. ‘Nothing better. What can I help you with?’
‘I – er – I’m looking for a book for someone, sir,’ I said.
‘Who’s someone? Yer mother? Yer sister?’
‘No, er, a girl.’
‘Ah.’
Under his moustache, his mouth crinkled into a smile. My face heated up.
‘What sort of thing does she like?’ he said, turning to scan the shelves.
‘Um, I dunno. Poetry, maybe?’
‘What sort of poetry?’ He moved towards the back of the shop, where there was a ladder leaning against the wall.
‘Hey, you want me to go up there?’ I asked as he carried it over to a set of shelves nearby and put a foot on the bottom rung.
He waved me away. ‘No, no, I’m quite all right.’
I watched, a little alarmed, as he hauled himself up the ladder. ‘I’m guessing you don’t want any of that soppy, romantic stuff,’ he grunted as he reached the top. ‘I know what young people are like today. Now, let me see. Hm…’
Eventually he clambered back down, a slim volume with a blue cloth cover and gilt-edged pages under his arm. ‘Try this. She was an American, like you.’
The book was by someone called Emily Dickinson. I’d never heard of her, but as soon as I started flicking through the pages I knew Ruby would love her.
‘I’ll take it,’ I said.
The man beamed. ‘An excellent choice.’
I paid for the Emily Dickinson, tucking it into my jacket with my notebook, and wandered back to the smoky basement at Rainbow Corner.
‘Where you been, man?’ Jimmy crowed as I sat down. ‘I’m raking it in!’
‘No you ain’t.’ Davy Manganello slapped his cards down on the table.
Jimmy looked at them and his face fell. ‘Aw, that ain’t fair.’
Davy grinned and scooped up the pile of coins and notes sitting in the middle of the table next to a half-empty bottle of brandy, while Jimmy scowled and Stanley shook his head good-naturedly. I thought of telling them about the bookshop, but something stopped me. Stanley might get it, but I wasn’t sure Davy or Jimmy would.
Later that day, we caught the train back to Devon. The others were playing cards again, but I gazed out of the train window, thinking about how every tree and telegraph pole sliding past took me closer to Ruby. I couldn’t wait to see her again.