06 Educating Jack by Jack Sheffield Read Free Book Online Page A

looked at her collection of poster paints and scratched her head. ‘Ah’ve no blue for t’sky,’ she pondered. Suddenly inspiration crept across her paint-splattered face. ‘Ah know – ah’ll mek it night time.’ She dipped her brush in the pot of black paint and carried on cheerfully.
    It was five o’clock when Vera and I walked out of school to visit Ruby. I carried the box of Get Well cards and Vera suggested we pick up a bag of grapes from the General Stores.
    When we walked in, Miss Golightly was serving Elsie Crapper and her granddaughter Patience. The little girl pointed to a packet of Fruit Pastilles and Elsie searched in her purse for some change. Patience put the first pastille in her mouth and looked up at Miss Golightly on the other side of the counter. ‘Ah can eat these and me teef won’t break ’cause they’re not plastic like me grandma’s,’ she said. With lips pursed, Elsie paid quickly, took the child’s hand and marched swiftly out of the shop.
    At the back of the queue, Betty Buttle was in conversation with Margery Ackroyd, the village gossip. Margery was eager to hear the latest on Ruby’s recovery. ‘Well ah’ve ’eard she’s ’aving terrible trouble wi’ ’er bowels,’ whispered Betty with a knowing look. ‘In fac’ ah think at night she ’as t’wear them in-confidence pads.’
    We bought the grapes, crossed the High Street and walked into the council estate to number 7, School View. Natasha answered the door. ‘Come in, Mr Sheffield, Miss Evans, mek y’self at ’ome. Me mam’s in t’front room an’ ah’m mekkin’ ’er tea.’ She returned to the kitchen and the rich aroma of burnt bacon. Ruby was sitting up in her bed.
    Vera sat on the crumpled eiderdown and held her hand. ‘So how are you, Ruby?’
    Ruby put on a brave smile. ‘Ah’m coming on fine, Miss Evans. Ah were upset at first when ah ’eard you’d anointed a new caretaker, but ah understand and ah’ll be back at work in no time.’
    ‘There’s no rush, Ruby,’ I said.
    ‘There is now, Mr Sheffield,’ said Ruby firmly. ‘Ah gorra new ’ealth visitor. It’s that Miss Wojciechowski an’ all ’er questions, questions, questions. Me brain’s spinnin’. It were like t’Spanish composition.’
    ‘Oh dear,’ said Vera.
    ‘An’ she’s too oighty-toighty f’me, Miss Evans,’ said Ruby. ‘Not
normal
like you.’
    Vera looked perplexed for a moment. ‘Er, well, thank you, Ruby.’
    ‘An’ my Ronnie’s not ’appy,’ she added darkly.
    ‘And why is that, Ruby?’ I asked.
    ‘’Is fav’rite chair ’ad to go upstairs,’ said Ruby, ‘an’ all ’is motorcycle parts ’ad t’go back in t’garden.’ The oily smears on the hearthrug bore testimony to this revelation. ‘Ah don’t want t’make a song ’n’ dance about it,’ added Ruby, ‘but if my Ronnie don’t get a job soon ah’ll swing for ’im. A loaf o’ bread ’as jus’ gone up t’thirty-two pence so it’s ’ard mekkin’ ends meet.’
    She looked out of the window as the dustbin wagon rumbled past. ‘T’only good thing about being poor,’ she said quietly, almost to herself, ‘is that it costs nowt.’ There was silence apart from the scraping of a frying pan in the kitchen. ‘An’ ah’m worried about our Duggie, Miss Evans,’ said Ruby.
    ‘And why is that?’ asked Vera.
    ‘’E’s gorra new woman-friend,’ said Ruby.
    ‘I see,’ said Vera, removing her spectacles and looking thoughtful.
    ‘So who’s the new girlfriend?’ I asked.
    Vera frowned at me. Clearly there was more to this than met the eye.
    ‘It’s norra
girl
-friend, Mr Sheffield,’ said Ruby with a sigh. ‘It’s more a
woman
-friend. She won’t see forty again.’
    ‘Oh dear,’ said Vera, shaking her head in dismay.
    ‘’Xactly, Miss Evans, that’s ’ow ah feel. ’E sez ’e likes
mature
women.’
    ‘I’m sure he’ll get over it,’ said Vera with a forced smile.
    ‘Yes, but it’s that
divorced
woman from t’shoe