Free Ruby's War by Johanna Winard Page B

there, or if they spent their dinnertime helping with the younger children, as she and Mavis used to do.
    Miss Conway got down from her desk and motioned for them to follow her to the door.
    â€˜We have over fifty pupils in each class and very few books or paper,’ she said. ‘Since she is a Catholic, I suggest she could join us each morning for prayers and catechism, but I’m afraid I can’t offer her a place. If she were a younger child, possibly.’
    Miss Conway left them in the little hallway. Ruby followed Jenny back across the playground. This time Jenny didn’t take her arm. Instead, her tiny feet hurried on ahead towards the village. Ruby followed, past the recreation ground, the war memorial and the Co-op. When they reached the Railway Inn, Jenny’s pace slowed.
    â€˜I’ll have to have a little drop of something for mynerves,’ she said, dabbing her face with her hankie.
    But when she discovered Granddad and Johnny Fin sitting side by side in the vault, Jenny’s nerves were shaken even more.
    â€˜Next time you want your dirty work doing,’ she shouted across the bar, ‘you do it yourself. You should have seen how that old bugger looked me up and down, and then she said she’d had enough schoolin’, so there’s no place for her.’
    Bert Lyons, the landlord, smiled and gave Ruby a wink. ‘Well, if the little lass is so clever,’ he said, handing Jenny a port and lemon, ‘perhaps they should have given her a job helping out in the school.’
    â€˜Sounds like they could do with the help,’ Vera, his wife, said, pouring herself a drink and offering Jenny a cigarette. ‘From what I’ve heard, there’s only three lady teachers for the whole lot of them. And they’ve had to come out of retirement because of the war.’
    Granddad looked across hopefully from the vault, but Jenny ignored the remarks and went to sit by the fire.
    â€˜Well, she’s certainly a likely lass,’ Johnny Fin said, following Jenny into the best room and setting a tray of drinks on the table.
    â€˜You didn’t see this woman,’ Jenny said, finishing her first glass of port and accepting a second one from the tray. ‘Send her every day for prayers, but she’ll not be able to stay.’ Jenny shook her head and took a sip from the second glass.
    Johnny Fin lifted his half glass of beer to his lips. Then, placing the glass delicately on the table, he suddenly twitched violently, and Jenny had to grab the table to save the drinks from spilling.
    â€˜Send her every day?’ Jenny said again, ignoring the twitches. ‘I told the old bitch what she could do with her prayers and her schoolin’. I gave her a right mouthful, I can tell you.’
    For a moment Johnny’s whole frame became rigid and he made a short sobbing sound through his nose. Then his body relaxed again. He lifted his glass of beer to his lips and smiled across the room at Ruby.
    â€˜Here,’ he said, taking a glass of pink liquid from the tray. ‘Come and sit over here, love. Try this. Bet you’ll not have tasted anything like it.’
    Ruby took a sip and felt the syrup-sweet liquid pop and fizz in her mouth. It tasted of tinned cherries, followed by a sudden hint of bitterness.
    â€˜It’s cherryade,’ Johnny said. ‘It’s what the children drink in America. They put ice cream in it. I bet that tastes nice.’
    In the dark pub lounge, the pink liquid was glossy. Ruby didn’t want to drink it all at once. She looked into the glass and watched it sparkle, as the little bubbles chased each other up the side. Then with every sip, with each delicious eruption on her tongue, she tried to imagine the wonder of ice cream and cherryade.
    â€˜Come on,’ Johnny Fin said, nodding toward the upright piano in the corner. ‘Your grandpa says you’ve got your dad’s musical talents. Have you got a lot of