Page 34 of Witness 8

From her little pot of savings, Ruby had taken two hundred dollars and gone shopping. She wanted to look her best for the party. It would become a party, of course. No gathering in this street happens without a lot of money being spent on food and booze. The excuse that had been given was that this was an emergency neighborhood-watch meeting. To talk about the murder and John Jackson’s arrest and what, if anything, the neighbors could do to protect themselves.

This translated as what the neighbors could do to get the Jacksons out of the street.

And Ruby had a front-row seat. In fact, she would be the star of the evening.

Gossip was rife on the street and everyone knew Ruby worked for the Jacksons, first as a cleaner and then solely as a nanny for Tomas. Ruby had the inside scoop on exactly what was going on in the Jacksons’ home. Had she seen something suspicious in the lead-up to the murder? Had she ever seen a gun in the house? Were John Jackson and Maggs having an affair? Even though Ruby had also worked for Maggs, from time to time, they would not ask much about her, if anything. They had already made up their minds about poor Maggs. Like Ruby, she was not accepted. Unwelcome. A woman of loose morals, some said. But, to Ruby, Maggs was free. Because she never cared what the restof the street thought of her. She was beyond them. The only question they might ask tonight about Maggs was whether she was having an affair with John Jackson.

This, and other questions, would be posed to Ruby before the end of the evening. She was sure of it. For once in her life, Ruby Johnson got to be the center of attention. And she couldn’t wait for it. That afternoon, she got a manicure. Even spent two hours in the salon getting her hair done. She had thought about getting her make-up done, but decided against it. She put on the same foundation she always wore, but added just a little eyeliner and a brighter shade of pink lipstick.

She wanted to look her best. This was her moment with the neighbors in West 74thStreet.

In the evening, Ruby stood on the sidewalk gazing up at the home of Peter and Petra Schwartzman and their four children. Lights were on inside. The soft lilt of a piano escaped from the bay window – Peter was a big jazz fan. Petra never did anything by halves. The frequency of her little community gatherings had increased of late. Now that Peter and Petra’s children had all grown up and were either in college or working, they had more time to socialize. The downside was they no longer needed any childcare and all their cleaning needs were met by a company. Ruby knew the family, but hadn’t been in the house in a long time.

Petra could be hard work. She was the real gossip on the street. Knew everyone’s business – who was having an affair, who had shares in a company that was about to skyrocket in value, who hadn’t chipped in for the street’s annual charity gathering. It had been over a year since Ruby had had any contact from Petra. Then she got the invite to the WhatsApp group and Petra invited her to the gathering tonight.

She pulled her pink, cashmere sweater down. Smoothed out her new jeans. She couldn’t remember the last time she had bought clothes that didn’t come from a thrift store. Not in a very long time. She had thought about buying a party dress, or a cocktail dress. She wasn’t exactly sure of the difference, but in the end she decided against it. She wanted to wear something nice, but not formal. This wasn’t officially a party, after all.

And the last thing Ruby wanted tonight was to embarrass herself.

And here she was, in her new outfit, her heart beating twice as fast as normal and a strange fluttering sensation in her throat.

Ruby didn’t get nervous. Not often. She was used to being around money – serious money. But she was normally there just to clean the toilet or change the diapers.

Now, Ruby was going to meet these people as equals. Okay, perhaps not exactly equals, but she was there asa person. Notthe help.

She would beseentonight. She had to build on the trust she had established. It would make everything easier in the end.

Clearing her throat, Ruby climbed the front steps and rang the doorbell. It was answered by Petra herself – a small lady wearing a green dress with diamonds in her ears and a big fake smile.

‘Ruby, darling,’ she said, and embraced her. ‘Thank you so much for coming. Let’s go to the kitchen.’

She led Ruby through the hallway and they passed the living room, already crowded with guests.

‘Tell me, how is your mother these days? It’s been so long since we’ve seen her.’

‘She’s okay. Not so mobile these days, you know, with the illness.’

‘Of course. Please give her our best when you see her.’

The kitchen had a full staff tonight. A chef in whites was taking hot trays of food out of the oven while another prepped smoked salmon. A young female server, dressed in black, waited to take food out to the guests.

‘Everyone, this is Ruby. Ruby, this is Chef Antonio. He’ll get you up to speed,’ said Petra.

Ruby gave Petra a confused look. The nerves in her stomach were suddenly replaced by a hollow, empty feeling.

‘Chef, please give Ruby an apron. Ruby, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you and thank you so much for helping out tonight. The guests in the conservatory haven’t had any food yet. Could you be a darling and go straight there?’

As Petra turned away, the smile on her face fell away. The server gave Ruby an apron and pointed at a tray of canapés.

She wasn’t here as an equal.

No one wanted to talk to Ruby.

No one wanted her insight into life inside the Jacksons’ house.

Tonight she was nota person. She would not beseen.

She wasthe help.