05 Please Sir! by Jack Sheffield Read Free Book Online Page B

she couldn’t resist. It was a day she would never forget.
    In Nora’s Coffee Shop, Johnny bought two frothy coffees and Ruby sat opposite him at a corner table. There was a long silence until Johnny said, ‘Yer ‘air looks nice, Ruby.’ It was an opening line he knew never failed.
    ‘Ah’ve just ’ad it done. It’s a Farrah Fawcett .’
    Johnny carefully avoided a look of surprise. ‘It’s lovely, Ruby,’ he said.
    ‘Johnny … what ’appened t’you?’ she asked. ‘Y’said y’d write.’
    ‘Ah’m sorry, Ruby,’ he said. ‘Truth is, ah never ‘ad confidence like your Ronnie. Ah never seized t’day , so t’speak. Ronnie ‘ad lasses ‘anging on ‘is every word. Ah were allus a quiet ‘un, staying in t’background.’ Telling lies was as easy as breathing for Seaside Johnny.
    ‘But y’were a Redcoat , Johnny, y’were on t’stage,’ said Ruby in surprise.
    ‘That were jus’ an act, Ruby,’ said Johnny. ‘It weren’t real … it weren’t me .’
    ‘Ah kept that postcard y’sent me of t’Sunshine Chalets,’ said Ruby. ‘Then ah ’eard y’went an’ married that erratic dancer from ‘Alifax … an’ ah never saw yer again.’
    Johnny smiled. ‘She were an exotic dancer, Ruby, but y’reight … she were erratic an’ all. It didn’t last long.’
    ‘Ah’m sorry, Johnny,’ said Ruby.
    ‘No need, Ruby. Ah were eighth out o’ ten kids … ah never knew what it were like t’sleep alone till ah got married,’ he said with a grin. ‘It were a relief when she’d gone.’
    Ruby stared at her dumpy work-red hands. ‘But did it mean owt … you an’ me?’
    ‘Course it did, Ruby. Ah could never forget you in that Tunnel o’ Love,’ said Johnny with the sincerity of a politician.
    ‘But we never went on t’Tunnel o’ Love: it were shut,’ said Ruby, looking puzzled.
    ‘Oh yes, ah remember now,’ said Johnny quickly. ‘It were that other one that y’liked.’
    ‘Thrill o’ thrills, it were, as ah recall,’ said Ruby.
    ‘Ah remember it well,’ said Johnny.
    ‘Ah’m glad y’do, Johnny. It were good t’feel, well, sort of wanted .’
    Johnny looked sadly at Ruby. She had always been different from the others but now he knew why and, perhaps for the first time in his life, his selfish heart knew remorse.
    At the end of school, Ruby came into the school office to collect the litter from the waste-paper baskets. She spotted the vase of roses on Vera’s desk and sniffed appreciatively. ‘Oooh, these are lovely, Miss Evans,’ said Ruby. ‘Teks me back.’
    ‘You like roses, don’t you, Ruby?’ I said.
    ‘Ah do that, Mr Sheffield,’ she said. ‘Ah ’ad roses on m’wedding day an’ that time we ’ad that little party in t’school ‘all.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘Now me children are m’bed o’ roses … an’ ah luv’em all.’
    ‘I love roses as well, Ruby,’ said Vera. ‘They’re so … romantic .’
    Ruby picked up her galvanized bucket, leant on her mop and looked thoughtful. ‘ Romantic , Miss Evans? Ah remember romance wi’ my Ronnie but that were a long time ago – so long it’s ‘ard t’remember – an’ after that … well … we jus’ med babies.’
    Vera gave a wistful smile as Ruby trotted off to mop the wood-block floor in the school entrance and I wondered about their different lives.
    Meanwhile, Julie Earnshaw was in her kitchen dishing up fish fingers, chips and mushy peas to Heathcliffe, Terry and Dallas Sue-Ellen. She was thinking about the new bingo caller who had been keen to talk to Ruby Smith and she wondered why. However, with children like hers, the opportunity for private meditation was rare.
    ‘Where are me other three dads, Mam?’ asked Terry as he poured tomato sauce on his chips.
    ‘Y’what? Y’ve only got one dad, y’soft ha’porth,’ said his mother, looking offended but secretly recalling a few old boyfriends from her youth.
    ‘But this morning t’vicar said we all ‘ave four