Free Blue Moon by Pam Weaver Page A

it,’ said Winnie, collecting her things and going upstairs. ‘I’ve only got a couple more vases to do, and then I’ll come and help.’
    ‘That’s all right, Mrs Moore,’ said Edith. ‘Ruby and I’ll get it done in no time.’
    ‘You don’t have to stay either, Edith,’ said Ruby, blowing her nose. ‘Why should you give up your afternoon as well?’
    ‘Because you’re my pal,’ said Edith, ‘and besides, with two of us on the job, we’ll get it done in no time.’
    Ruby could have hugged her.
    ‘You’ll never guess,’ said Edith.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I’ve got a gentleman caller.’
    Ruby’s eyebrows shot up.
    ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ beamed Edith.
    ‘I – I’m not,’ said Ruby, slightly flustered. ‘It’s just that you used such an old-fashioned expression.’ She hoped Edith believed her. She didn’t want to hurt her feelings, for the world. ‘Who is he? Do we know him?’
    ‘His name is Bernard Gressenhall,’ said Edith, ‘and he works at Potter & Bailey in Montague Street – on the bacon counter.’
    The people who worked at Potter & Bailey wore long aprons over their clothes, so it was hard trying to recall any distinguishing features. However, Ruby did vaguely remember a rather jolly man with dark hair who worked on the bacon counter.
    ‘He’s ever so nice,’ Edith went on. ‘He’s got a brother in the army, and his dad works on the railway. We’re off to the pictures on my day off.’
    ‘Good for you,’ smiled Ruby. ‘I wish there was someone I was keen on. Though there is someone interested in me, it seems,’ she said.
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Apparently,’ Ruby said confidentially, leaning closer, ‘Albert Longman asked my father if he could court me.’
    ‘Oh, Ruby,’ cried Edith. ‘He’s such a bloomin’ big-head.’ They were folding sheets as a team, and the cupboard was quickly taking shape. They heard a rustle behind them and froze, thinking it was Mrs Fosdyke, but it was only Winnie Moore coming back downstairs. ‘Oh, you gave us a scare,’ said Edith.
    ‘Sorry, dear,’ she said. ‘Can I give you a hand?’
    ‘We’ve nearly finished,’ said Ruby, ‘but thanks for offering.’
    ‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ said Winnie with a nod.
    Edith waited until she was out of earshot and then said, ‘You don’t like Albert Longman, do you?’
    ‘No, I don’t. He may be good with children – that’s what they all say – but he’s old. He’s boring.’
    ‘All right, keep your hair on,’ Edith laughed. ‘Do you fancy a stroll when we’ve finished this? There’s hardly time for me to get back home, before I have to come back to turn the beds down.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Ruby, ‘why not? I might even treat you to an ice cream, if you like.’
    ‘Oooh, thanks, Roob,’ said Edith.
    The weather was quite good as they came down the staff stairs, but when they stepped into the street there was an acrid smell in the air.
    Edith took a deep breath. ‘Whatever’s that?’
    ‘It smells like a fire,’ said Ruby, and at almost the same moment a fire engine came hurtling out of High Street and into the Steyne, its bell clanging. People were running along Marine Parade, but it wasn’t until they turned the corner that they saw the heavy pall of dark-grey smoke.
    ‘The pier!’ cried Ruby. ‘The pier is on fire.’
    They hurried along the road, hardly able to believe their own eyes. Hundreds of holidaymakers, some still in their bathing costumes and others with wet towels overtheir mouths, had formed a human chain and were struggling to salvage articles from the Southern Pavilion. As they broke into a run along Marine Parade, a group of men were trundling a grand piano along the walkway, and by the time they got onto the pier themselves, they were met by people carrying plush seats, tables and chairs. It was obvious that the people of Worthing were anxious to save whatever they could from the inferno.
    Ruby was so upset she could have cried. The lovely pier,