Gone, gone. All gone.
Her knees crumpled, but Bennett was too fast for her. He held her up, held her close.
All her clothes. Her books. Her last jar of peanut butter. Her camera. Her typewriter. The only photograph she had of her mother.
All gone.
And then, in a surge of panic, she remembered the people from the hotel. Maggie from breakfasts in the dining room and late nights in the shelter. Doris from the front desk. Betsy the maid, who lived in the garret with the other girls and always looked so tired. The other boarders—what had become of them?
“Miss Sutton!”
She whirled about to see Maggie rushing toward her, and without hesitating she swept the girl into a fierce embrace. Now was not the time to concern herself with respect for British reserve and propriety.
“Oh, thank goodness. I’m so relieved. Was anyone killed?”
“Not as I know of, though some people’ve been taken off to hospital.”
“What happened?”
Maggie’s pretty face crumpled at the memory, but she recovered her composure with admirable swiftness. “It was the incendiaries. They lodged in the roof and took out most of the building. Part of it collapsed straight off, and the warden says the rest will have to be pulled down soon. Your room, Miss Sutton . . .”
“I know,” Ruby said, her last hope fading. “But I’m fine, and it looks like everyone else will be fine. That’s all that matters.”
“If you go see the woman from the WVS, you can fill out a relief claim. She’s there at the corner.”
“Thank you.”
Ruby started walking toward the WVS official, but as she approached she saw the woman was busy with someone else. It seemed important to keep moving, though, so she turned the corner and kept going. She would walk for a while, and perhaps then her head would clear and she would know what to do.
“Ruby—wait up!” Of course. She’d walked away from Bennett. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“To work. I’ve nowhere else to go.”
“Half of London is on fire. No one will be at the office.”
She faltered, hearing this, but continued walking. “You’re probably right.”
His arm wrapped around her shoulders, the weight of it oddly comforting. It would be so tempting to simply stop and let him carry her. He would do it if she asked.
“Listen—just listen for a minute. I have a place for you to go. Come with me and I’ll sort everything out.”
“I’ll be fine. I don’t need your help. I’m used to taking care of myself.”
“I know you are, and I know I could probably walk away and you would be fine. But you shouldn’t have to manage on your own. I’m your friend, and I’d like to help. There’s no shame in letting me help, is there?”
They had stopped walking a few minutes before, but she only realized it now. “I guess there isn’t. But only until I can find a place to stay.”
She was being sensible, that was all. Only a foolish or stupidly proud person would turn down a ready offer of help. She would accept his help today, and tomorrow she would start over. Tomorrow, once she’d had something to eat, and had rested, and had washed away the awful smell of smoke and loss that clung to her hair and clothes.
“Of course,” he said. “Let’s see if we can find a taxi, shall we? I don’t much feel like braving the Underground.”
They walked west until he was able to flag down a cab. “Twenty-one Pelham Crescent in Kensington,” he said as they got in the car. “Just off Fulham Road.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, not really caring.
“To my aunt’s. We both could use a dose of Vanessa right now.”
“WAKE UP. WE’RE here, Ruby. Time to wake up.”
Rather embarrassingly, she had slumped against his side. She sat up straight and rubbed at her eyes. “Are we at your aunt’s?”
“We are. Give yourself a shake and let’s get out of this car.”
They’d stopped on a gently curving street with large white-fronted houses along one side and a park or private garden on its other, the latter separated from the pavement by a high wrought-iron fence. After Bennett had paid the driver, he guided her up a short flight of steps and, not even bothering to ring the bell, ushered them both inside.
“She never bothers to lock the door,” he explained, and then, “Vanessa? Jessie? Anybody home?”
From the back of the house came an answering cry: “Helloooo! Coming!”
The hallway where they stood was bright and spacious, its black-and-white marble floor softened by a long and rather threadbare Oriental rug. To their left was a sitting room, its tall, rather dusty windows crisscrossed with tape and hung with bottle-green velvet draperies. Nothing in the room was new or even vaguely fashionable, and some of the upholstery bore the signs of a cat’s undivided and enthusiastic attention.
Hanging above the mantel, flanked by a pair of intricately carved wooden masks, was a portrait that caught and held Ruby’s attention. Its subject was a young woman who wore nothing but a strategically arranged Kashmir shawl, her golden hair falling to her hips, and the expression on her beautiful face was both mischievous and beguiling.
“That’s my aunt Vanessa,” Bennett explained. “Although she’s not really my aunt. My godmother, actually. The picture was painted when she was still performing.”
“She was an actress?”
“Yes. Vanessa Tremaine. Her husband was Sir Nicholas Tremaine.”
Ruby turned to him in wonderment. “I’ve heard of him. He played King Richard in that film years ago.”
“Winter of Our Discontent, yes. Here he was better known for his theater work. Vanessa retired from the stage after Viola was born.”
“Did you ever see her perform?”
“Sadly, no. I’ve heard that she was an unforgettable Lady Macbeth. I did see Uncle Nick in—”
“Bennett! My long-lost Bennett!”
Advancing toward them, her arms outflung in an anticipatory embrace, was an older version of the woman in the portrait. Vanessa Tremaine’s hair was streaked with white and had been tied back in a messy bun, and the skirt and blouse she wore had to be as old as Ruby, but her beauty hadn’t faded one bit. It was only reinforced by the dazzling smile she now directed at them both.
“Bennett, my dear, and a new friend. Welcome, welcome!” Ruby was swept into a rose-scented embrace, kissed on both cheeks, and then gently released so Vanessa might do the same to Bennett.
“I’ll explain all in a moment, but introductions first,” he said. “Miss Ruby Sutton, this is my godmother, Lady Tremaine.”
“Oh, pffft—none of that,” the lady in question protested. “The title came along with dear Nick’s knighthood. The only time I bother with it is when I’m trying to reserve a table at Quaglino’s. Do call me Vanessa.”
“We’ve been up all night—were caught out in the raid,” Bennett explained. “We sheltered at St. Paul’s Underground station.”
“The cathedral? Did it survive?” Vanessa asked worriedly.
“The dome was intact this morning. There may be some damage, but it’s still there.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
“The hotel where Ruby has been lodging, though, the Manchester—it was hit. More than half of it burned down, including the wing where she had her room. She’s lost everything.”
It was hard to hear it like that, so bluntly stated, and a traitorous tear escaped before Ruby could blink it back.
“My dear, dear girl. Come here, you poor thing,” Vanessa crooned, and enveloped her once more in an embrace, loosening it just enough to allow them to walk side by side down the hall. “Let’s get you settled and comfortable. Oh, you poor, dear girl.”
Vanessa led Ruby down the hall, past a second sitting room, a dining room, and finally down a short run of steps into a conservatory. It looked and felt like a luxurious greenhouse, and the air was warm and moist and smelled wonderful. A large tropical plant arched high over their heads, and there were pots of geraniums, violets, and ferns everywhere.
“Let’s get you settled,” Vanessa said, propelling Ruby toward a white wicker armchair softened by plump chintz cushions. “Bennett, be a dear and run downstairs to Jessie. We’ll need some tea and biscuits.”
Something brushed against Ruby’s leg, and she looked down to discover a rumpled orange tabby cat looking up at her. “Mrrow,” he said, and jumped onto her lap.
“Percy, you scamp. I’ll just take him—”
“No, I don’t mind. Honestly. I love cats.”
“He certainly likes you. Normally he’s a bit more standoffish.”
“I see you’re making friends.” Bennett sat on the chair next to Ruby and nodded toward the cat. “Percy doesn’t take to just anyone, you know.”
“Did you find Jessie?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes, and tea is on its way. So . . . I was wondering if Ruby might stay with you for a few days. It may take a while for her to find new lodgings.”
Vanessa shook her head so hard that strands of hair escaped from her bun and rose in a silver nimbus around her lovely face. “A few days? No, that won’t do. Why on earth can’t she simply stay on with me?”
“Oh, but I couldn’t—” Ruby began, but Vanessa would not be deterred.
“Of course you can. It’s only Jessie and me right now, and this house is far too big for the two of us. Do say you’ll stay.”
Ruby was prevented from answering by the timely arrival of Jessie, a stout, white-haired woman in her early sixties. “Here’s your tea and biscuits, Lady T.”
“Thank you. Jessie, this is Ruby Sutton. She was bombed out last night and will be staying with us from now on.”
“I’m awfully sorry to hear it, Miss Sutton. I promise we’ll take good care of you.”
“I thought we’d put her in Vi’s old room. Is the bed made up?”
“It is, but I’d rather freshen up the sheets. Won’t take but a minute.”
Ruby waited until Jessie had departed before protesting any further. “I haven’t said yes. I don’t want to be rude, and you have been so nice, but you don’t know me. How can you be sure that you want me here?”
This last question appeared to baffle Vanessa. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t we want you? You’re friends with Bennett, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“And Bennett is my favorite godson—”
“Your only godson,” he interjected.
“My favorite godson,” Vanessa continued, “and his friends are my friends, too. So it’s really very simple.”
With this, and clearly believing the discussion was at an end, she poured a cup of tea, dosed it with milk and sugar, and handed it to Ruby. “Go on. Drink it down.”
Not daring to refuse, Ruby swallowed nearly the entire cupful in several long gulps. It still tasted awful, but she could feel the warmth of it all the way down to her toes. She closed her eyes and tried to marshal her thoughts.
“Just think of the fun we’ll have as we get to know one another,” Vanessa persisted. “Oh, do say you’ll stay. It would make me so happy to have you here.”
“What about my board? At the hotel I was paying—”
“La, la, la—we’ll sort all that out later. I’m sure you’ll let me know what’s fair.”
Ruby looked to Bennett, who didn’t bother to hide his amusement at her plight, and then back to Vanessa. They had her cornered, for there was no gracious way to refuse, and they knew it. For that matter, why should she refuse? She had fallen into a tub of butter, and she was smart enough to know it.
“I guess I’ll stay, then,” she conceded. “Thank you very much.”
“I’d better be going,” Bennett said. “I need to check on my flat, and I want to make sure Uncle Harry is all right.”
“I thought he’d decided to stay in Edenbridge for Christmas,” Vanessa said.
“Not this year. Said he felt lonely. I’ve no idea where he actually spent Christmas Day—I wasn’t even in town.”
“What about my work?” Ruby asked, suddenly remembering. All this time she’d been sitting in cozy comfort, drinking tea and having her life arranged, while her colleagues were probably standing in the street and surveying the ruins of their professional lives. “I should go and see what happened.”
“You stay put,” he ordered. “I’ll go by, and if there’s no one there I’ll ring up Kaz.” Gulping down the rest of his tea, he got to his feet, his movements slow and almost labored. He had to be so very tired.
“Will you come back for dinner?” Vanessa asked. “The girls will be here—they were both working last night, for some odd reason, so we’re having Sunday dinner on Monday this week.”
“All right,” he said. “But start without me if I’m late.” He bent to kiss his godmother’s cheek, and then, with a reassuring smile for Ruby, he was gone.
Ruby finished the last of her tea as Percy purred away on her lap, leaning into her hand as she stroked the soft fur behind his ears. It felt so lovely to sit there, in the warmth and comfort of the conservatory, and do nothing. Think of nothing.
“Did Bennett say how he got that black eye?” Vanessa asked, busily deadheading a nearby geranium.
“He said he ran into a branch when he was on his motorcycle.”
“That horrid thing. Why he takes such risks I’ll never know.” She snapped off the last of the withered blooms and turned to Ruby. “Would you like to see your room?”
“Yes, please.” Not wanting to disturb the cat, Ruby picked him up and deposited him back on the chair. He turned around, wriggling into the cushion, and went straight to sleep.
Vanessa led her to the third floor and along a short hallway to an open door. The room they entered was huge and bright and, to Ruby’s delight, overlooked the back garden. As charmingly old-fashioned as the rest of the house, it was wallpapered with a pattern of pink rosebuds and trailing vines, and was furnished with a tall chest of drawers, a desk and wooden chair, and a low, overstuffed armchair drawn up by the hearth. The room’s centerpiece, however, was a high brass bed layered with pillows and eiderdowns and blankets. It was so wide that Ruby could lie down sideways with room to spare, and for a moment she contemplated doing just that.
“You’ve a bathroom of your own just through here,” Vanessa explained, opening its door so Ruby might marvel at its white-tiled magnificence. “Although we are trying to conserve fuel, I insist that you run a bath that’s as deep and hot as you can stand. At certain times, my dear, morale trumps austerity. Today is one of those times.”
“It’s so lovely,” Ruby marveled.
“It is nice. Now, there’s a robe on the back of the door. I presume you lost your clothes along with the rest of your belongings, so I’ll rummage through the girls’ trunks upstairs and see what I can find.”
“Won’t they mind?”
“Mind? Of course not. They’d be the first to suggest it. What else, what else . . . ? You’ll need something more to eat than biscuits, so I’ll have Jessie bring you some soup and a bun. I want you to have your bath, eat your lunch, and then have a good, long nap. I’m sure you didn’t sleep a wink last night. Oh—and if there’s a raid, we’ve a shelter in the garden. Bennett put it in for us, and he did something with a drain, or perhaps the floor. At any rate, it’s stayed dry so far, and as long as we bring out enough blankets, we’re able to keep warm.”
“Thank you so much. I—”
“La, la, la. Off you go and pour that bath, and don’t show your face until you’ve had that nap.”