The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(73)
‘Good riddance to bad rubbish,’ said Winnie viciously, with more energy than Rita had heard from her for ages. ‘No, don’t go, I want a word with you.’
Rita obliged, wondering what it was this time. It had been so long since Winnie had used that tone of voice with her that she’d almost forgotten how unpleasant the old woman could be. ‘Can you make it quick, Winnie? Only I’m running late already.’
‘Late for that hospital where you never should have got a job in the first place, do you mean?’ Winnie spat, her long-held grudge resurfacing. ‘Let them wait for once. I need looking after too, you know.’
‘You’re fitter than many your age,’ Rita began firmly, but that wasn’t what Winnie was after.
‘Who’ve you been talking to?’ she demanded. ‘Vera said people know about Ruby, where she came from. They’re all out there saying she’s my bastard and it can only have come from you. What do you mean by it, blackening my good name like that?’
Rita had to stop the reply that first came into her mind, that it wasn’t blackening Winnie’s name to repeat what was simply the truth: she was Ruby’s biological mother, and had conceived the child out of wedlock and then palmed her off on the loathsome Elsie Lowe. But that wouldn’t help the situation, and besides, she hadn’t breathed a word since the night they’d found Winnie’s secret box of documents during the raid. It suited Winnie to blame Rita, when really it was as clear as the nose on her face to anyone that Ruby was related to her. Winnie’s sullen silence on the matter had fanned the flames of the local tittle-tattlers and she only had herself to blame. However, Rita didn’t want to become entangled in an argument when her patients were waiting. Instead she took a deep breath and replied calmly.
‘Why would I tell anyone that, Winnie? It does nobody any good to make that public.’
‘Because you are always looking for a chance to tell lies about me!’ raged Winnie, her face going an unhealthy colour as her temper rose. ‘First you say all sorts of evil nonsense about my Charlie, and now you’re out spreading gossip about me and that useless girl who hangs around the house doing nothing. Well, you can stop it, and kindly tell your excuses for friends that they’ve got it wrong.’
‘That will only add fuel to the fire,’ Rita pointed out. ‘I don’t have time for this now, Winnie. I’m sorry to hear the news has got out but, before you say anything more, I’ll tell you straight, it’s only because it’ll upset Ruby if she thinks folk are talking about her and branding her a bastard. She’s the sweetest girl alive, which you’d know for yourself if you ever bothered talking to her or tried to get to know her. She’s also been a big help in keeping the shop going – not that you’d know that either, as a fat lot of use you’ve been since she got here. We’d have gone under if it wasn’t for her, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.’ She wheeled around. ‘Now I’m off. Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything. But you might manage a kind word to her, if you’ve got it in you, rather than running her down all the time.’ She slammed the outside door behind her before she said anything else she might regret.
Walking swiftly along the main road, hoping to catch a bus now they were running more regularly, she wondered what this might mean. Maybe Winnie was coming out of her shell again, ready for a fight. That wasn’t good news, whichever way she looked at it. But perhaps it was inevitable; Rita wasn’t sure that she’d have wanted her mother-in-law to quietly drink herself to death, no matter how much she disliked her. Meanwhile Ruby would need looking after, and it was such a shame, as the girl had been gaining confidence recently and was even going out on her own. Perhaps that was what had started it; people would have begun to speculate who she was and why Winnie, not famous for her charity, had taken her in.
Rita knew that none of her own family, who were among the very few who knew the truth, would have spread the news deliberately. But Empire Street was such a close-knit community; they were all living cheek by jowl in the terraced houses, and the walls were shakier than ever after all the bombing. There was no such thing as soundproofing and everyone knew everyone else’s business. It was perfectly possible that Dolly or Violet or Sarah had been overheard through an open window or door, and all it would have taken was one sentence and the word would have got round. Rita swore under her breath as she reached the bus stop. She didn’t want Ruby to be upset – she was becoming genuinely fond of the girl and knew that Michael and Megan thought the world of her. When they’d recently gone to the farm on Pop’s cart, the children had been beside themselves with delight to see her, and hadn’t wanted her to go. They’d only managed to leave when Pop and Rita had promised to bring her back again soon.
A further reason to keep Ruby happy was her clever way of analysing the figures and the stock. She’d worked out when it was going missing and when it was likely to happen again if the pattern continued. Rita prayed the girl was right and they could do something about it. She broke off her train of thought as a bus drew up and she nodded to the conductor before sinking on to the unaccustomed luxury of a seat to herself. She looked out of the window as they passed the war-ravaged buildings, the shops and houses ruined by the May blitz. She counted forward in her mind to the next likely dates. If all went well, then one of them would be during Jack’s forthcoming leave. She sighed from the depths of her heart. If only she’d married Jack and not Charlie. If only Jack were here to help her with the incessant problems that beset her at every turn. How she needed him, what a comfort his loving arms would be. But she couldn’t have him. Her longing was suddenly so intense that she could hardly stand up to get off at her stop near the hospital. Enough of that, my girl, she told herself sternly. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. But oh how she wished things had been different.