It was a very simple meal, one of the dishes her mother used to cook when the money was tight. Just a few potatoes, parsnips, parsley and, if you had some, a cup of single or sour cream and a handful of cheese. Ruby set the table for one and took a look in the oven. Arthur hadn't shown up at work, not yesterday, not today. He must have a horrible hangover for calling in sick two days in a row. She looked to the sideboard, to the photos arranged on the top. Her wedding photo, pictures of her parents, her brother and her husband. All dead and gone. Once more, she looked to the oven, and back to the photography of her husband. Then she set a second dish, fork and knife on the table.

"Dinner's ready, love," she whispered and felt tears burning in her eyes.

She took the casserole out of the oven and placed it on the table. The smell of the cheese made her mouth water. Yesterday's dinner had been her last meal and she's was already starving. She was short of money and Arthur Shelby couldn't even sense how valuable his present had been. Otherwise she would have eaten just a few potatoes or a bowl of oat flakes.

A knock on the door made her frown. She didn't expect a guest, as Arthur surely didn't remember his visit and her invitation. She opened the door to her little flat and took a deep breath when she laid eyes on Arthur Shelby, in a sober state, and with a paper bag in his hands.

"Good evening, Mr. Shelby," she greeted and opened the door wider. "Come in."

"Miss Ruby," he answered and took his cap off. "I'm not too late, am I?"

"No, you're just in time." She smiled and pointed to the kitchen table. "Please, take a seat."

'Thanks god I set the table for two. Even if the second dish was just for melancholy reasons,' Ruby thought and stopped in the movement when the next idea popped up: 'Oh. And this means, he remembers. Does he remember what I said? That I'm in love with him?'

He placed the paper bag on the sideboard and took a seat: "I ... I bought Caraway seed cake at Harmon's bakery. For dessert. I hope you like it."

"I do. Thank you, Mr. Shelby. You shouldn't have."

"I should. I owe you an apology."

Ruby shook her head and filled his dish with a large portion of the casserole before she took a smaller one for herself.

"Enjoy your meal, Mr. Shelby." She said and sat down.

"Thank you. Enjoy."

"It's nothing special, just a ... meal my mother used to cook when we were out of money. Normally, you would add some single cream but ... I ran out of it, so it's a bit dry. I'm sorry," Ruby said after he took the first two bites.

"No need to be sorry. I like it," he answered and gave her a smile. "So, regarding yesterday morning ... you weren't able to sleep?"

"Why do you think so?" Ruby said frowning.

"You were fully clothed, at 5 a.m., and your working hours at my office start at 10."

"9:30, Mr. Shelby. You start at 10." She smiled and finally took the first, heavenly bite her belly longed for.

"Yes, of course. So, why do I knock at your door at 5 in the morning and find you fully clothed, with a pot of tea already cooked?"

Ruby took a deep breath and bit on her lip. Should she tell him? Maybe he wasn't happy with the truth. But she didn't want to lie to him too.

"I have got another job, from 6 to 9. I'm serving breakfast at the Marquise hotel in Coventry Road."

"Why are you in need of a second job and, despite having two jobs, still eat dry casserole without cream?"

Ruby sighed and shook her head: "I have to pay back my brother's gambling debts."

"I see," Arthur nodded and leant back: "May I ask whom you owe and how much it is?"

"It's 942 Pounds. The interest rates are my undoing."

"942 Pounds." Arthur lifted his eyebrows. "That's a word. And who do you owe?"

"Billy Kimber."

Arthur nodded slowly and chewed with a thoughtful facial expression. For a few seconds the room was silent.

"Gonna talk to him. That's unacceptable. Your brother is dead, he can write off the money. You're not responsible for your brother's gambling debts."

"That's what I've told him. But he didn't care. He wants his money, and sends his professional thugs when I'm not able to follow his payment schedule. In fact, I could need a third job. For the Sunday afternoons."

"Or a pay rise."

"That's ... that's not why ... why I told you my story, Mr. Shelby. I'm fine and I'll get that handled."

"First, it's still Arthur. Please. Second, I'm gonna talk to Kimber. Third, there's gonna be a pay rise for ya. You do a very good job and I appreciate your hard work even more, now that I know how much you actually work."

"Thank you, Arthur, but ..."

"No. Just no."

Ruby swallowed the rest of her objections and they finished their meal in silence.

"So," Arthur said and cleared his throat. "Yesterday morning ... I guess I said something too open-hearted and I wanted to apologize. For interrupting your ... morning and for what I said. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Do you ... remember my answer?"

"Yes, I do."

Ruby nodded and looked down on her lap: "I'm ashamed, because I said that."

"Why?" Arthur squinted and shook his head in disbelief.

"Decency demands a year of grief. I'm ashamed because I ... I'm attracted to you and I ... miss him and he's dead for only seven months, and ... and there's you ... and it's wrong to ... to fall in love with another man while still grieving."

"It's not wrong. He would have wanted you to be happy."

"He would have wanted to live and be happy with me, don't you think?"

"Sure. But he's gone. Like so many others. And there's nothing we could do about."

Ruby nodded slowly and stood up to clean the table.

"Do you want a cup of tea for dessert?"

"Yes, thank you."

Again, they remained silent for a few minutes. Right after she served tea and the cake he'd bought she spoke again: "What if I want it to happen again?"

"What exactly?"

"You knocking at my door in the middle of the night, because you need my company?"

Arthur rubbed over his face and smiled. "Guess I could do that. Special wishes for a present?"

"How about beetroot and thyme?"

"Alright. Shall I bring single cream too? And ... maybe some ham?"

Ruby laughed lowly and shook her head: "I'm unable to accept so many presents, Arthur."

"You'll get used to it," he answered. "This I promise."