‘We’re havin’ a baby! That’s lovely news. Mum, you need to sit down. ’Ere let me make you a cuppa. Bobby, go and get some biscuits from the corner shop, we’re celebratin’.’ Ruby smiled as she fussed around her mum. Another baby in the family! In a million years she would never have suspected they’d be welcoming a baby into their lives.
‘You don’t need to fuss over me, Rube, though I am feeling tired at the moment. The doctor says it’s bein’ pregnant at my advanced age. He called me a geriatric mother!’ Cathy said indignantly, making both Ruby and Bobby smile.
‘Shouldn’t they do some tests anyway? Just to make sure . . . I’m sure there’s nuthin’ wrong but it’s worth them checkin’ ain’t it?’ Ruby said as she plumped up one of the few cushions they owned.
‘I’m fine, Rube, honest. Now where’s that cuppa? I’m parched.’
Satisfied her mother was comfortable, Ruby went to the kitchen and put the kettle on the hob. As she waited for it to boil she had time to gather her thoughts. A baby was a wonderful thing, and it made sense that Mum was more tired than normal. She felt a sense of wonder at the thought of having a little one to look after.
Louie came in and shut the door behind him. ‘Listen, Rube. I know this is a shock but this is happenin’ and, at first, we couldn’t believe it either. Your mum needs our support. She’s older than when she had you two and she’s no spring chicken any more . . .’
Ruby smiled at the dad she adored. ‘Course, I’m really ’appy for you both, and all of us. I’ll do everything I can to help Mum.’ She grinned and turned to give him a cuddle. She breathed in the familiar scent; the cheap soap he used to scrub himself clean after a day lugging metal around the scrapyard, and the lingering smell of other men’s tobacco. In his arms she felt safe from everything.
She heard the front door open and Bobby reappeared clutching several packets of biscuits.
‘I didn’t know which ones to get so I bought them all!’ he grinned.
Ruby carried in a tray with the teapot and cups, just in time to see her mum tutting at him for spending recklessly in the shop.
‘A packet of digestives would’ve been enough!’ she was saying.
Bobby reached over and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘We’re celebratin’ so I thought we’d ’ave a treat,’ he said, raising his eyes skywards at Ruby, who had to stifle a giggle.
‘That means Dolly Crutch was right!’ Bobby suddenly said.
‘Oh my God, I’d forgotten about her. That old witch always got it right, every time, didn’t I tell ya?’ Cathy turned to her husband.
Ruby’s mum had made an annual pilgrimage to a colourful local character, Dolly Crutch, who lived in a cramped ground-floor flat in Wapping. Everyone knew Dolly. She was the local fortune teller, and most days there was a queue running out of her front door and onto the street; people all desperate to know if good times would ever return. Cathy used to go every year to find out what was in store but after Dolly predicted she’d have another baby, three years ago, she’d stopped.
‘I remember comin’ home and laughing at how ridiculous it was, vowin’ I’d never go back to her, and she was right all along.’
Ruby smiled. She’d been taken to Dolly as a child, hanging on her mother’s apron strings. They’d sat in the tiny kitchen with yellow cupboards and a small wooden table, waiting for Cathy’s turn to go in. Ruby must’ve been six or seven at the time, yet she could remember the sight of the old woman even now. They were ushered into an even smaller room, strung with coloured Indian scarves, with a single orange lamp that seemed to throw only a small light in the gloom. Dolly was a sight she’d never forget, with dyed black hair, wisps of grey escaping from the scarf tied around her head. It had small coins stitched to it and it jangled as she pointed to the chair and asked them to sit.
She’d closed her eyes, which were lined crudely in black kohl, and asked for guidance from ‘the spirits’. Ruby couldn’t take her eyes off her. Dolly had opened her eyes and stared straight at Ruby, yet the little girl had felt no compulsion to look away.
‘She has the gift,’ was all she’d said, her unblinking gaze staring into Ruby as if she could see right inside her. Ruby hadn’t felt scared. She felt she’d been recognised – that was the only way she could describe it as an adult looking back at that strange encounter.
Dolly had eventually turned to Cathy and asked her to hold out her hands and place an item of jewellery into her waiting palm. Cathy’d wriggled off her wedding ring and placed it there, leaning forward just a little, eager to hear of her fate. Ruby couldn’t remember anything else from that day except that on the way home, Cathy bought her a chocolate bar, which was a rare treat. As Cathy handed her daughter the chocolate, she’d stopped for a second, as if she’d wanted to say something to Ruby, but at the last minute, changed her mind.
‘What was it she said to ya that time I went with ya?’ Ruby asked now they were on the subject of Dolly Crutch, so named because she had a peg leg.
Cathy’s face clouded over. She hesitated, though it was clear she remembered. ‘Go on, Mum, what was it?’ Ruby said, her voice quiet now.
‘Darlin’, you shouldn’t go listenin’ to everythin’ Dolly said. She was a harmless old woman who sometimes hit the nail on the ’ead, and sometimes she was wildly off.’ Cathy looked at her
