Last Rights by Barbara Nadel Page B

Pearl Dooley as the old woman spoke. Sweating, in spite of the cold, her eyeswere wide with what looked like terror and, as she raised one hand to wipe her brow dry, I saw that she was shaking. Hannah
     saw it too and gave me a look of recognition.
    ‘Ruby, see,’ Bessie continued, ‘didn’t take nothing with her. We found Shlomo together, her, me and Etta’s brother who it
     was went for the police. But then Ruby just says she’s going out for a while and she’s gone. The police asked all of us a
     lot of questions.’
    ‘About Ruby?’
    ‘Yes. They asked where she come from, was she married, what her name was. I said I didn’t know how she come to be with Shlomo,
     because I don’t. She wasn’t never married or so far as I knew. All I could tell them was that her name was Ruby House. They
     asked me that several times and I kept on telling them, Ruby House.’ She leaned forward to get closer to Pearl, and said,
     ‘You know, love, your old name before you was married. I’m sure they didn’t believe me, but I said, “It’s the truth,” and
     so . . .’
    I looked again at Pearl, who had averted her eyes. Either she’d made up the name Reynolds for her sister or Ruby had lied.
     I know people have reasons for doing this, especially in our part of the world, but at that moment it was setting off all
     sorts of alarm bells in my head and I decided to have it out with Pearl as soon as we left Bessie Stern’s place.
    ‘If you want to know more,’ Bessie said, ‘you should go and see the police – if you can find them. Please God they will find
     the monster as killed poor Shlomo, but what’s one poor dead Jew among a city full of dead and dyingpeople?’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. ‘Thanks to the Luftwaffe we could all be dead by morning!
     God willing it won’t be so, but . . .’
    As we left it was with Bessie’s offer for us, or more specifically Pearl, to stay and, if necessary, use the shelter she used,
     ringing in our ears. ‘If a raid starts, where will you go, Missus, you and the girl?’ she said to Pearl. ‘In the blackout
     you could kill yourselves looking for somewhere before the Germans even get across the Channel! Stay and take tea, talk a
     while.’ But Pearl wanted to go so we left.
    She was a good sort, Bessie Stern. She even offered, in view of the fact that I’m a man of ‘business’, to find me ‘someone
     nice’. I wanted to ask Hannah what she’d told her. Not, obviously, that we were together. In fact, I got the distinct feeling
     that Bessie would’ve thought less of me if she’d known that. I had no reason to suppose she knew what Hannah did for a living,
     but she had seemed to dislike her. Maybe my girl had said I was Jewish to ease our passage through the mysteries of Spitalfields
     and that was why Bessie had seemed so keen on me. But neither Hannah, Velma nor I had much of a chance to talk about any of
     this as we raced up the road to keep up with Pearl. Once out of Bessie’s she’d gone off like a silent rocket. I at least was
     frightened we might lose track of her, that she’d disappear, like her sister, like the old rabbi who had melted through a
     wall.
    If you don’t know where the nearest public shelter might be or you’re a long way off from one, church crypts are always a
     decent bet. We’d just gone past St Anne’s,Limehouse, when the sirens went so I doubled back with the two women and the girl and took them down there. I asked Hannah
     to stay with Pearl and Velma, which she said she would. The vicar, who was in charge of settling everyone in, was a bit taken
     aback when I left.
    ‘My wife is making tea,’ he said, as I headed off through the crowds and up the stairs.
    It’s often said that London is a collection of villages, each with its own distinctive character. This is true and yet not
     true too. Take Limehouse. There’s a belief some have that it’s a place full of Chinamen taking opium. Allow your