A Mother Forever Elaine Everest (best beach reads of all time .txt) 📖

and couldn’t believe that Ruby loved him more than her son. She also found it strange that Frank preferred to be in rooms over the bookshop with his friend Stephen, when he had a ready-made family at number thirteen. So far the couple had managed to avoid her questions. Ruby knew it was wrong to hope as much, but perhaps with Donald’s death Stella would forget to ask about Frank’s love life for a while.

Ruby had the feeling that Wilf understood Frank’s lifestyle but preferred to keep quiet, or to ignore his eldest son’s choice of companion. Wilf was never happier than on the Thames working as a lighterman, and would be just as happy sleeping on his boat and doing his work, although she knew that he cared deeply for Stella and his children.

She wondered about retiring to bed – but then, she’d need to be up for when the children returned. Pat still slept on a small bed in Ruby’s large bedroom. George had the larger of the spare rooms, with the smaller back bedroom being made up for when Frank stayed or, come to that, one of George’s friends.

To keep herself busy, she boiled a kettle of water and pulled out four stone bottles from under the sink, filling them carefully with the water and screwing the stoppers tightly to avoid leaks. She made two trips upstairs putting them under the bed covers so they’d all be cosy and warm whatever time they got to bed. Settling back down with her knitting, she tried to relax. She was making a cardigan for Pat, which made a welcome change from the balaclava helmets she’d been donating for men fighting at the front. Again, her mind wandered back to what she could do to help the war effort. A few knitted items did not seem enough. She’d been going to ask Stella what she thought, but doubted the woman was now in the right frame of mind. How could she ask about helping with a war that had killed her youngest son? Next time Ruby went to the church hall to join the knitting circle, she’d ask the advice of the women she’d got to know there. Yes, she thought to herself, that’s a very good idea.

Her eyelids closed and her head started to drop as the knitting slipped from her fingers before she suddenly became alert to sounds outside in the street. Whistles were being blown frantically, while the horns of several cars were sounding long and often. That means something, she thought to herself as she tried to clear her foggy brain. Then it hit her – that’s the signal there are planes in the sky. She could be in danger. Her first thoughts were for her children and she rushed to the front door, swinging it wide open just as a policeman passed her gate on his bicycle. He stopped suddenly, pulled the whistle from his mouth and shouted at her to take cover.

‘But my children are over the road. I need to get them,’ she cried.

‘Not now you don’t, love. Your neighbours will be taking care of them and you need to do the same for yourself.’ As he spoke, there was a large explosion and the ground beneath Ruby’s feet shook. She screamed as slates from the roof clattered around her. The policeman jumped from his bike, which crashed to the pavement, and dived at her, pushing her back in through the front door. ‘Where is the best place for you to take shelter?’ he asked as he helped her to her feet and pushed the door shut behind them.

‘The cupboard under the stairs,’ she said, pointing with a shaking hand.

‘Then let’s go there now. I hope your husband won’t mind,’ he joked as he followed her into the small space.

‘Perhaps we should be circumspect and leave the door slightly ajar,’ Ruby chuckled, trying to hide her fear. ‘Under the circumstances I’m sure my husband will understand. He’s probably taking cover himself right now,’ she added.

‘Is he at work?’ the officer asked.

‘No, he’s over on the Somme somewhere. I think that’s where he is – he’s fighting for our country,’ she said proudly.

‘Then I think he’ll understand,’ the policeman agreed.

Ruby lost track of how long they sat there talking. She’d lit one of the candles to give them a little light, and it had burnt down quite a way. She learnt that he had a son who was younger than her George, and the boy was hoping to join the police force himself when he was old enough.

Ruby wondered if George knew the lad. ‘Are there any other policemen in your family?’

‘Yes, my father – so if our Mike joins up, that will be three generations,’ he added proudly.

Ruby told him about George and his apprenticeship at Vickers, along with her worries that he would soon be joining the army.

‘With your boy’s skills, he will be much in demand over there. I doubt he will be fighting like most of the lads. He’ll be needed to keep the guns working.’

Ruby was comforted by his words. ‘My good friend lost his brother; we only heard the news today. His mother is beside herself with grief. Is it wrong of me to think that could be me? I don’t want it to happen to my son.’

The policeman patted her hand. ‘Every mother in the land is thinking the same. My wife is overjoyed that Mike is too young at the moment to be conscripted. Then in the next breath she’s telling me she feels guilty for her thoughts. I can’t say I blame her; I feel the same. We live in a very strange world at the moment. Hark, listen: that sounds like the Boy Scouts with their rattles and bugles. It must be the all-clear,’ he said as he helped Ruby to her feet and they both brushed themselves down. ‘Perhaps we should go outside and see the damage?’

Out in the street, Ruby couldn’t believe