Gypsy

by Lesley Pearse

  Beth stood at the top of the wooden stairs inside the disused stable looking into the first of the two rooms, and her spirits rose. It was small and very dirty, but she could see that once she’d cleaned the windows it would be light and airy because it had windows both on the side which overlooked the Langworthys’ backyard and on the mews side. It had a sink, a stove and a table and chairs. Excitedly, she rushed across to look in the other room and found there was an old iron bedstead and a truckle bed, which she could put in the kitchen for Sam.

  She had no real idea what kind of accommodation she and Sam could have got for a rent they could afford. But she was absolutely certain it would not have been anything like this, and probably just one room in a slum.

  Beth worked like a beaver cleaning the rooms for two hours. She propped the two mattresses up in the sun to air, scrubbed the floors and cleaned the windows. When she’d finished there wasn’t a single cobweb anywhere, but she looked like a chimney sweep and her bare feet were black.

  Mrs Bruce and Katherine came across the yard just as she finished, each laden down with a pile of blankets, pillows and clean linen. They helped Beth make up the two beds, and Mrs Bruce put a red and white checked cloth over the table.

  ‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ Beth gasped. ‘I can’t believe any one could be as kind as Mrs Langworthy.’

  ‘She’s had more than her share of bad luck and hard times,’ Mrs Bruce said knowingly. ‘And she said you’re to go upstairs and have a bath and wash your hair before you go to get Molly. She’s found a few clothes for you too.’

  As Beth lay back in the warm water, letting her hair drift on the surface, she was staggered by how she could have gone from sheer desperation to bliss in such a few hours.

  She’d only ever been in a tin bath before, and not since she was five or six had she been able to lie down in one. She just hoped people had been as kind to Sam today as they’d been to her.

  The clothes Mrs Langworthy had given her were folded on the bathroom stool. A dark blue skirt, a blue blouse with white spots, a chemise, drawers and a petticoat. She wondered if Mrs Langworthy knew she’d had nothing under that horrible green dress today. Mrs Bruce had given her a pair of her boots and some stockings as Mrs Langworthy’s were too big.

  Lovely as it was in the bath, Beth knew she must hurry now and get back to Mrs Craven and Molly.

  ‘Well, blow me down!’ Mrs Craven gasped as Beth turned into her backyard in new clothes and her hair shining like polished ebony. ‘Someone’s done you proud, and I know it weren’t the Sally Army!’

  Beth smiled, partly because she felt more like her old self again, all clean and neat, but also because it was pleasing to find Mrs Craven outside in the sunshine with Molly.

  She picked her little sister up off the blanket she was sitting on, and hugged her. ‘Beth’s got a nice surprise for you,’ she said.

  ‘Well, you’ve fallen on your feet and no mistake,’ Mrs Craven exclaimed after Beth had told her about the morning’s events. ‘Talk about lucky!’

  Beth felt a little embarrassed then, for it sounded as if her neighbour was almost disappointed that her luck had turned so soon. ‘It won’t be the same without having you just across the alley,’ she said quickly. ‘You’ve been so very kind, Mrs Craven, right since Papa went. I don’t know what Sam and I would’ve done without you.’

  Her neighbour beamed at that. ‘Just make certain you come round to see me now and then. I shall miss you all, but specially my little Molly.’ She held out a finger to the baby who grasped it eagerly. ‘Now, I’ve got some news for you too. The police have arrested Jane Wiley. That copper what talked to your Sam last night came round this morning after you left and told me. She’s denying it of course, but they could smell paraffin on her clothes. The copper said someone round at her lodgings said they saw her go out later at night too, and it was after Thomas rolled back from the pub.’

  ‘What will happen to her?’

  ‘Prison, of course,’ Mrs Craven said with relish. ‘And a long stretch too, I expect. I hope she rots there.’

  Beth nodded in agreement. ‘Have you heard how Mr Filbert and the other two shopkeepers are?’ she asked. ‘It must be terrible for them to lose their businesses.’

  ‘I heard they was savage about it. A few looters got in the ironmonger’s before they got the window boarded up.’

  Beth shook her head in disgust. ‘Any news of Ernest and Peter?’

  ‘They come and took their bicycles away this morning, and asked after you. Someone in Lord Street took them in last night and got them fixed up with some clothes, but they’ll be all right, they’ve got families with a bit of brass to help them.’

  At that, Beth remembered she had brought back the dress and boots she’d borrowed. She handed them over and then drew out of the bag a large meat pie Mrs Cray, the cook, had given her.

  ‘I wish I had some money to buy you something to show how grateful I am for your kindness,’ she said, ‘but maybe we could all share this before we leave later, and when I come to visit you again I won’t be empty-handed.’

  ‘Bless you.’ Mrs Craven’s eyes lit up at the sight of the pie. ‘You’re a good girl, Beth, your mother would be proud of you.’

  Sam turned up at half past six, carrying a brown paper parcel. He was still wearing the overlarge jacket and shirt, and said the other clerks had teased him all day. But the office manager had given him five pounds from the company relief fund intended to help employees in distressed circumstances.

  ‘I bought some clothes for myself in the second-hand shop,’ he said. ‘I was going to say you could take some of it and get yourself some clothes tomorrow, but it looks like you are all fixed up. That will leave us with more for rent for a new place.’

  Beth told him her news then, and Sam looked staggered. ‘Why would she do that?’ he asked.

  ‘Because she’s kind and generous, so we’d better make sure we don’t make her regret it.’ Beth smiled.

  It transpired that the perambulator left in the back shed was unscathed by the fire, just covered in soot. After supper, Beth and Sam tucked Molly into it, along with a small bag of baby clothes people had brought round for her, and the fiddle, and said goodbye to the Cravens and made their way to Falkner Square.

  ‘I can’t really believe we’ve lost everything,’ Sam sighed as they cut down a back alley which would bring them out on to Seel Street. ‘You said you didn’t like Jane Wiley the first time you met her. I wish I’d trusted your judgement.’

  ‘I can take no satisfaction in that,’ Beth replied grimly. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t been quite so hasty in throwing her out, she wouldn’t have done it. But let’s not dwell on that. No one died in the fire thankfully, and maybe a new start will be good for us.’

  ‘But we’ve got to toughen up,’ Sam said thoughtfully. ‘We can’t let things keep happening to us. We need to work out what we really want and strive towards that.’

  ‘What do you want?’ Beth asked. It was a beautiful warm evening, and though she was terribly tired, she actually felt she had everything she wanted right here: Molly asleep in the perambulator; Sam beside her, and a new home waiting for them.

  ‘To go to America,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to be subservient to others, sitting on a stool scratching away at ledgers and feeling I should be grateful for the pittance I get each week. Neither do I want you growing old before your time scrubbing other people’s clothes. America is a vast, young country, full of opportunity. We could do well there.’

  ‘I’m sure we could.’ Beth was afraid to ask whether he was including Molly in this dream. ‘But first we have to get back on our feet.’

  Chapter Eight

  Edna Bruce was checking the monthly account from the butcher’s when she heard Beth sigh. Looking up, she noticed the girl looked unusually pensive as she sewed some buttons on to one of Mr Edward’s shirts.

  They were in what had once been the butler’s parlour, the room at the bottom of the basement steps
. In the absence of a butler it was used now as a sewing and ironing room, and as it was raining hard outside, Molly was there with them in her perambulator having her midday sleep.

  It was six weeks since Beth and her little family had come to live in Falkner Square, and Mrs Bruce was delighted by how well it was working out.

  She only ever saw Sam on Sundays because he left for work early in the morning, but she had found him to be a very pleasant young man.

  Beth came in for three hours each weekday now, which suited everyone better as the laundry didn’t mount up into unmanageable amounts. She brought Molly over with her, and in good weather she stayed in her perambulator outside in the yard.

  Not that she was ever in it for long! Mrs Bruce, Cook and Kathleen were all guilty of getting her out to cuddle her, as was the mistress too. On the odd occasions Mr Edward was home during the morning and came down to the basement, he too fell for her charms and stopped to play with her.

  In truth, Molly had become everyone’s pet. Her curly hair, treacle-brown eyes and ready smiles made fools of all of them. She was a remarkably happy baby, she hardly ever cried, and would go willingly to anyone.

  But the most surprising consequence of Beth coming to live in Falkner Square was that old Mr Langworthy had taken to her. That had never happened with anyone before. It came about because Beth volunteered to sit with him one afternoon while the mistress popped out for an hour. When she got back she found her father-in-law engrossed in listening to Beth reading from a penny dreadful. Apparently she’d put it in her pocket to read, expecting him to be asleep, but on finding him wide awake, she thought she might as well see how he liked it.

  As old Mr Langworthy had been something of an intellectual snob before his stroke and wouldn’t have allowed such lowbrow reading matter in the house, both his son and daughter-in-law found this very amusing.

  Now Beth often read to him, or just went in and chatted to him. She didn’t seem in the least put off by his incapacity, or that he spoke in grunts and odd sounds; in fact she spoke to him as she would to anyone else, about things in the news, books she’d read in the past, and about her late parents.

  Yet however well things were working out, both Mrs Bruce and Mrs Langworthy were a little concerned that such a vibrant young girl had such a narrow life. It wasn’t a hard one by any means; most girls in service worked from six in the morning until their master and mistress went to bed. In fact, if Beth was married and Molly her own child, it could have been said to be a charmed life. But Sam was not her husband, and as he’d now got a second job as a barman at the Adelphi Hotel and was out every evening, Beth was always alone.

  Mrs Langworthy herself had said it was no life for such a young girl to be stuck in a couple of rooms with a baby, and no family or friends to visit. Mrs Bruce thought perhaps this was what was ailing Beth now.

  ‘Is there something troubling you, Beth?’ she asked. ‘You are awfully quiet today.’

  ‘I was just thinking how hard Sam works,’ Beth said with a little shrug of her shoulders. ‘He wants to go to America, you see, that’s why he took the barman’s job. He thought some experience like that would stand him in good stead.’

  This was the first Mrs Bruce had heard of this. ‘Is he planning to go without you?’ she asked.

  ‘No, he wants me to go too. But I don’t see how I can, there’s Molly to think of.’

  ‘People emigrate with children all the time,’ Mrs Bruce said evenly. ‘They manage. I’ve heard of some going with five or six children.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s different with Sam being my brother.’ Beth sighed, her blue eyes suddenly very sad. ‘I wouldn’t want to spoil his chances, and having us two to support would be difficult for him.’

  Mrs Bruce thought about that for a few moments. ‘Yes, I suppose you are right, he wouldn’t be free to travel and look for the best prospects, and later if he wanted to get married, that could be a problem. But it’s hardly fair that you should be left behind with all the responsibility of Molly, either here or over there. She’s his sister too.’

  ‘That’s the nub of the whole thing,’ Beth replied, her voice flat and dispirited. ‘He’s far too conscientious to leave us, but I feel bad that I’m holding him back.’

  ‘I see.’ Mrs Bruce nodded. ‘Tell me, if you didn’t have Molly, would you like to go to America?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Beth exclaimed, her eyes brightening. ‘It sounds such a wonderful place. I often daydream of playing the piano in a big hotel.’

  ‘You play the piano?’

  Beth smiled shyly at her surprise. ‘Yes, though I’m probably rusty now because we had to sell ours when Mama died. I play the fiddle too. Sam managed to save it in the fire. I like that best, but Mama called it Devil’s music because they play the fiddle in low ale houses.’

  Mrs Bruce smiled. She had heard someone playing jigs on a fiddle on many an occasion but she’d never guessed it was coming from the coach house. She didn’t think it was Devil’s music either; it was gay and bright. ‘Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?’ she asked. ‘It’s such a wonderful accomplishment.’

  ‘I thought it might sound like I was boasting. Servants aren’t supposed to do that.’

  ‘I would never have thought it boastful, and I would love you to bring your fiddle over here sometime and play for me.’

  The way Beth’s eyes lit up made Mrs Bruce smile. ‘And don’t you stop dreaming or planning for your future,’ she went on. ‘I made the mistake of always putting duty before my own desires and ambitions, and because of that I missed out on marriage and children. I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.’

  ‘What wouldn’t you want to happen to Beth?’

  Both Mrs Bruce and Beth turned their heads in surprise on hearing Mrs Langworthy’s question. They hadn’t heard her come down the stairs to the basement. She looked stunning in her apple-green silk dress with leg-of-mutton sleeves and her hair arranged in sleek, fat curls on the top of her head.

  ‘Beth was just telling me that Sam is dead set on going to America, and I suspect she really wants to go with him,’ Mrs Bruce said.

  ‘I can understand that.’ Mrs Langworthy nodded. ‘It sounds such a wonderful, exciting place. But don’t go rushing off just yet, Beth, I’ve just got used to having your help. And seeing this little one every day!’ She stood by the perambulator looking down at Molly adoringly. ‘She is just the most perfect baby. I wish she’d wake up so I could cuddle her.’

  Mrs Bruce could feel her mistress’s raw longing for a child as she leaned over Molly. When she first married Mr Edward she used to say she wanted at least six children, and she was so strong and healthy that Mrs Bruce had expected it would come about in the fullness of time. But it hadn’t, and as each year passed it seemed less likely.

  Molly woke and stretched. On seeing Mrs Langworthy, her face broke into a wide smile and she lifted her arms to be picked up.

  ‘She’ll be wet and spoil your dress,’ Beth said in alarm.

  ‘As if I care about that!’ Mrs Langworthy laughed and eagerly scooped the baby up. ‘So, little Molly, it must be nearly your dinnertime,’ she said. ‘What is it to be today?’

  Molly was busy playing with Mrs Langworthy’s necklace, and tentatively tried to chew it.

  ‘Cook saved some of the lamb stew from last night for her,’ Mrs Bruce said. ‘She’s such a joy to feed, I’ve never seen her refuse anything.’

  ‘Could I feed her?’ Mrs Langworthy asked.

  Beth couldn’t understand why her mistress would want to do such a thing, but she readily agreed. ‘You’d better put an apron on, though, she’s a bit messy,’ she added.

  Mrs Bruce busied herself with her duties, but made a point of going in and out of the kitchen as Mrs Langworthy fed Molly. To her surprise the mistress looked entirely at ease with the baby on her lap, spooning the food into her greedy little mouth. Yet even more amusing to watch was Beth, for as she sat on the opposite side of the table to the mistres
s, her mouth kept opening and shutting in time with Molly, and every now and then her hand would move involuntarily as if unable to believe Mrs Langworthy could scoop uneaten food from around the child’s mouth and pop that in too, the way she did.

  Her mistress clearly picked up on Beth’s tension. ‘I have had some previous experience,’ she said with a gay little laugh. ‘I used to feed my younger brothers and sisters regularly. I just haven’t had any encounters with babies or small children since I married.’

  ‘You are really good at it,’ Beth said admiringly. ‘I was scared stiff of Molly at first. I’d never even held a newborn baby before, much less fed and changed one.’

  ‘I must try changing her too,’ Mrs Langworthy said, her face all aglow. ‘Babies are much more agreeable to take care of than grumpy old men.’

  Mrs Bruce turned away so that neither Beth nor her mistress would see the tears well up in her eyes. She sensed it could only end badly because Beth would move on before long and take Molly with her.

  All through the autumn, at Christmas and into the New Year of 1895, Mrs Bruce watched Beth and Molly gradually working their way into everyone’s hearts at Falkner Square. She knew it wasn’t her imagination because she too was falling under their spell.

  It was hard not to love someone who could sing even when she was sluicing filthy napkins. Her merry laugh enlivened the basement; her eagerness to help everyone with their chores created a happy atmosphere. She would gladly spend the afternoon cleaning silver, pressing Mr Edward’s clothes or reading to old Mr Langworthy, even though she wasn’t paid to do any of these extra duties. Perhaps it was because she preferred to work than be alone with Molly in her rooms, but whatever the reason, Mrs Bruce liked having her around.

  They had celebrated Molly’s first birthday before Christmas in the kitchen. Cook made a special iced cake and a trifle, Kathleen the maid had blown up balloons, and even Sam and Mr Edward came home earlier to be there. Beth had made Molly a new pink dress, which she immediately daubed with trifle. She had been able to walk a few steps holding on to someone’s hands for some little time, but that afternoon she took four or five steps unaided to reach Mrs Langworthy.