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“There’s nothing to talk about,” said Ruby gruffly. She turned away from Vickie and looked out the window of the steamcar. Her fingers intertwined in her lap. She’d loosened the neck scarf around her neck as if in an attempt to be able to breathe easier.
The driver drove quickly through the city, weaving between the other cars—for a weeknight, it was busy. Plus, it wasn’t as late as they had thought it would be when they left the Black Hearts Club. It was barely ten o’clock, and it hadn’t been the fun and exciting outing that both women had thought it would be. All Vickie was concerned for now was Ruby.
“Something has unsettled you,” said Vickie, trying to find a way to support her best friend, who seemed to have clammed up and wasn’t talking. This wasn’t at all like Ruby. And to have given so much money like she had?
“I was worried that my cover would be blown.” Ruby shrugged, not glancing back at Vickie, choosing to keep looking at the lights flashing by as the steamcar sped toward her home.
“And the money?”
Ruby clenched her jaw before speaking. “I thought it a good way to ensure they didn’t realize I wasn’t George.”
Vickie didn’t believe for one minute what Ruby was telling her. Her stomach tingled. There was more to it than Ruby was letting on. There had to be. And she was just the person to find out what it was and to help her friend. Though, what on earth it could be, she had no idea. The message had been for George, though maybe it reminded Ruby of someone she had loved? A loss in the war and it caused her raw grief to resurface? It had to be the case? Maybe the name Miguel was enough of a trigger for Ruby’s emotions to surface?
“Poppycock,” she said under her breath.
There was also the issue she wanted to bring up with George. Had he had a male lover in the past? It didn’t feel right. She didn’t care if he did. They were reconnected now, but was it enough? They’d been distant in their marriage for so many years. Could this be the thing that would pull them apart? Could he still be pinning for this past lover? Everything Violet had said repeated through her mind, bouncing on the effects of the champagne. Vickie wished she hadn’t indulged so much.
“Do you want me to go home, Mrs. Wenderlen?” asked the driver as they drove away from the city.
Vickie was about to say yes when Ruby interrupted, “To my place, please,” she commanded.
“Ruby, I think it might be best you come home with me. We can discuss this over a cup of tea or something stronger if you’d prefer.” Vickie didn’t like how Ruby was pushing her away.
Ruby shook her head. “I keep telling you there’s nothing to talk about.”
Vickie sighed. There was. But maybe she needed to change tactics and talk about something else.
“Have you got your painting class tomorrow?” asked Vickie.
Ruby didn’t answer. She looked lost in her own thoughts.
“Ruby?” Vickie reached over and put her hand on Ruby’s leg.
“What?” Ruby asked, turning to finally look at Vickie.
“Your painting class,” said Vickie. She noted her friend looked sad, and perhaps there was a hint of confusion in her eyes. Ruby had also drunk a fair bit, and that made it difficult for Vickie to read her friend accurately.
“Yes, tomorrow.” Ruby turned away, preferring to gaze out of the window into the darkness of the night.
Vickie gave up and let her friend sit in her own thoughts. She’d reach out to Ruby tomorrow and make sure that she was all right. Better still, she could go to the art class. Then a small idea came to mind.
“I might join you. Is there room in the class?” she asked, hoping that it wasn’t going to be nude drawings like it had been the last time. That hadn’t been her thing, even though the male model was incredibly attractive.
“I think so,” said Ruby, an absent-minded tone to her voice.
The driver slowed and stopped the car in front of Ruby’s house.
“I’ll get the clothes cleaned before returning them. I still think they need some updating, and maybe next week we can go shopping.”
Now, Vickie definitely knew Ruby wasn’t herself. Shopping trips were never suggested for a week later. They were always now or, at the latest, tomorrow.
The driver opened the steamcar door.
“Thanks, Vickie, this has been… well, a night out that won’t be forgotten.” Ruby forced a smile before she got out, then she strode quickly up the concrete stairs to the front door of her old-style Victorian home and went inside.
Vickie settled back into the leather seats, crossing her arms for comfort around her body. At least Ruby was safely home. The steamcar rolled forward as the driver steered around the half-circle driveway and back out on to the street, heading west toward home.
There was nothing more she could do to help Ruby tonight. Her thoughts turned toward George. Would he even be home from the hospital yet? What was she going to tell him about where she’d been? Usually, he was happy enough not to know the details. All he needed to be told was that she was out with Ruby trying a new club. But that wasn’t going to be enough this time because she took Ruby parading as George, and he wasn’t going to like that. Plus, there were the questions about his past love that were niggling away in her mind.
