Gypsy

by Lesley Pearse

  Later, back in the single women’s cabin, Beth lay in her canvas bed listening to the other girls whispering excitedly about the young men they’d met tonight, and she felt proud that her brother appeared to be the one they all admired most. She could still hear the sound of the old man’s fiddle ringing in her ears, such joyful, wild music, as if he was pouring every experience of his life into it. She had never heard the instrument played quite that way before, and she felt inspired to emulate him.

  She put out her arm and groped around under her bed until her fingers met the worn black case with its peeling leather. Just touching it was enough. Her talisman for good fortune.

  ‘Huge, ain’t it?’

  Beth was startled by the male voice behind her on the deck, and turned to see it was one of the lads she’d danced with fleetingly last night; she recognized him by the scar on his right cheek. It was the scar, which looked as if it had been made with a knife, that had made her wary of him. He was tall and whip-thin, the mop of black hair she remembered thinking needed a wash and a cut now hidden beneath a cap. Although he was probably a couple of years older than her, his shabby, too large jacket and moleskin trousers gave him the look of a young street urchin.

  ‘So huge you could get scared by it,’ she replied. ‘It makes me feel very small.’

  ‘They say it’s that cold if you fell in you’d die of shock in two minutes,’ he said.

  ‘That’s a cheerful thought!’ she said with some sarcasm. ‘Why don’t you try it? I’ll check if they’re right.’

  He laughed. ‘You’ve got an acid tongue. Just like me ma.’

  ‘Is that why you’re going to America, to get away from her?’

  ‘In a way, s’pose I am,’ he said with a grin. ‘Not to mention Pa, with his drinkin’ an’ all. Why are you going?’

  ‘Same as most of us,’ she shrugged. ‘To seek my fortune; for the adventure.’

  ‘You’re Sam Bolton’s sister, ain’t yer?’ he said.

  Beth nodded. ‘I’m Beth Bolton. And you?’

  ‘Jack Child,’ he said, and gingerly held out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  She shook his hand briefly. ‘Where are you from? That’s not an Irish or a Liverpool accent.’

  ‘Down south, from the East End of London. I came to Liverpool a year ago to get on a ship for America, but I had my money stolen and so I had to find work until I had enough to get another ticket.’

  ‘That was bad luck,’ she said, warming to him a little because he had soft brown eyes and an engaging, lopsided grin.

  ‘It’s made me more cagey,’ he said thoughtfully, leaning on the rail beside her. ‘But that’s a good thing. They say New York is full of rogues and they prey on us immigrants.’

  ‘Really?’

  He nodded sagely. ‘A pal of mine went six months ago. He wrote and said men lie in wait outside the immigration hall looking for suckers to fleece. They offer to get you work and a place to live, but once you’ve handed over some money they scarper.’

  Sam had told Beth that men down in the docks in Liverpool sold forged tickets for passages on ships that didn’t exist; they promised to take foreigners to hotels and then stole their luggage. She supposed such things went on everywhere in the world.

  ‘We’ll just have to be on our guard then.’ She shrugged.

  ‘You and Sam will make good,’ Jack said. ‘You’ve both got something about you.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ Beth asked, amused by the way he was studying her. By no stretch of the imagination was he handsome — he had a raw complexion and his features looked too big for his face. His accent, a mixture of London and Liverpool, sounded peculiar, yet there was something very likable about him.

  He looked a bit sheepish. ‘Well, Sam, he’s ’andsome and got that cock-o’-the-walk way about him. You’re classy and beautiful.’

  ‘Well, thank you, Jack.’ She smiled. ‘I just hope when I go looking for work they think so too.’

  They stayed at the rail talking for some time. Jack told her that while he’d been in Liverpool he’d worked for a carter and had lodged with a family in Leeds Street. ‘They was worse than me own,’ he laughed. ‘Rough as they come and always fighting and drinking. Glad to get out of there I was. But they took me in when I didn’t have a penny to me name, not many would do that.’

  Beth in turn told him about her parents dying and how she’d left Molly behind. ‘You did the right thing by her,’ he said with a look of real understanding. ‘I was lookin’ at some of the folks down there last night with all their little ’uns and wonderin’ ’ow on earth they thinks they can get a start in New York. It’ll be hard to get a place to live, and if the men can’t get work straight off, how they gonna feed ’em?’ This same thought had been in Beth’s mind too. It was comforting rather than painful to imagine Molly toddling around the house at Falkner Square, adored by everyone. Her life would remain constant and secure and she would always have a warm, clean bed, good food and plenty of love. Beth thought that if she reminded herself of that each day, in time she might be able to be truly glad she gave her to the Langworthys.

  The sea became even rougher in the late afternoon and as the ship bucked and rolled, more and more people became sick and took to their beds. For most of the day Beth had felt dutybound to help those affected, washing their faces, getting them drinks of water and emptying the vomit bowls, but as the evening progressed and the smell below decks began to make her feel queasy too, she put on her coat and went up on deck again for some fresh air.

  It was freezing cold up there, and deserted, but she could hear an orchestra playing in the first-class saloon even above the noise of the wind and sea.

  To hear the music better she walked right down the deck to the railing which kept the steerage passengers contained in their section, and seeing a lifejacket locker, she tucked herself into the side of it to get out of the wind and listen to the waltz music. In her imagination she was in a pale blue dress with a satin sash, being twirled around the floor by one of the ship’s officers.

  She became so immersed in this happy little fantasy that she came out of her little shelter to dance alone. But a sudden burst of louder music and a pool of golden light spilling out on to the deck alerted her that someone had come out of the first-class saloon. She slunk back into her shelter when she saw a man in formal evening dress lighting a cigarette, but she couldn’t resist peeping out to look at him.

  He was tall, slim and dark-haired, and although he was some forty yards from her, and the light poor, she thought he seemed jumpy, looking around him in a nervous manner.

  A few minutes later the door opened again and a lady came out.

  She was like a beacon in the dark because of the white fur stole around her shoulders, her blonde hair and light-coloured, shiny dress. As she raised her hand to greet the man, her bracelet twinkled brightly, suggesting it was diamonds.

  The couple embraced, and Beth wondered why they would come out on to a freezing cold deck when they could have been dancing together in the warm saloon.

  The reason became obvious when they began kissing frantically, for clearly they couldn’t do that in front of people. Beth thought it rather romantic and wondered if they were engaged and had given their chaperone the slip.

  But the man was clearly concerned at them being caught, for even as he kissed the woman he was manoeuvring her down the deck towards Beth and the shelter of the lifeboat suspended there.

  ‘I daren’t stay more than a minute or two,’ the woman burst out breathlessly, her words carrying clearly on the wind. ‘He’s watching me like a hawk.’

  ‘You’ve got to leave him,’ the man said fiercely. ‘I want to kill him each time he paws you.’

  Beth suddenly felt very uncomfortable at being a witness to this clandestine tryst. She wanted to move away, or at least cough so they knew they weren’t entirely alone, but it was too late, for the couple were only feet from her now, just the other side of the railing, so close she
could smell the woman’s perfume.

  Silence made her peep out again. They were kissing so passionately it made Beth blush. The woman’s back was to her, and the fur stole had slipped down from her shoulders, revealing the flesh on her shoulders and neck which was very white and smooth.

  Their breathing was heavy, there was a rustling of clothes, and though Beth couldn’t be sure, she thought the man was touching the woman in an indecent manner.

  ‘I need more than this fumbling, Clarissa,’ he sighed. ‘I want to make love to you on a bed, to see you naked beneath me. Come to my cabin tonight.’

  Beth was burning up with embarrassment now, but if she moved they would hear her and it would look as if she’d been purposely spying on them.

  ‘I’ll try,’ the woman replied. ‘I’ll slip Aggie one of my powders.’

  There was more frantic kissing and fumbling, then Beth heard Clarissa say she really must go, and a second or two later she heard her heels tapping back along the deck.

  The man remained where he was and Beth saw him light up another cigarette. As she was now frozen to the marrow she began to sidle away towards the door of the companionway. But in the darkness she didn’t see there was a small ledge in front of her and she tripped over it, falling down on to the deck.

  ‘Who’s there?’ the man barked out.

  Beth knew without turning her head that he was just four or five feet behind her, looking straight at her as she lay sprawled on the deck, and that only the railing was preventing him coming over to her.

  ‘Get up and speak to me,’ he ordered her.

  She was so used to doing what she was told that she didn’t even consider running away, and obeyed him.

  ‘How long have you been there?’ he asked.

  ‘A while. I came up because it’s so stuffy below.’

  She couldn’t help but stare at him for he was so handsome, impeccably dressed and had such a cultured voice. She guessed he was in his mid-twenties.

  Until that moment Sam had been the yardstick she measured men’s looks by, and she’d seen few as handsome as her brother. But Sam looked almost girlish in comparison to this man, for his hair was coal black and he had deep-set eyes, a proud nose and high cheekbones.

  ‘Are you in the habit of spying on other people?’ he said with a sneer.

  ‘Are you in the habit of being rude to people?’ she retorted with some indignation. ‘I was here first. You should have checked to make certain you were alone if you were intending to do something secret.’

  ‘You’re a cheeky minx,’ he replied, looking her up and down. ‘Will a florin buy your silence?’

  Beth didn’t understand that question and just stared at him.

  ‘Five shillings?’ he said.

  All at once she realized what he meant. Witnessing an adulterous meeting was shocking enough to her, but to be offered a bribe not to speak of it was insulting. ‘How dare you assume my silence can only be bought?’ she said indignantly. ‘I have no interest in you or your lady friend. It would have been quite sufficient just to ask that I didn’t tell anyone what I saw.’

  He looked slightly chastened. ‘I apologize,’ he said. ‘It’s just that—’ He broke off lamely.

  Beth felt bolder now. All day she’d been aware that the ship’s company cared little for the comfort or well-being of their poorer passengers, and having something over someone from first class made her feel she was evening up the score. She moved closer to him, right up to the railing. ‘That she’s another man’s wife?’

  He could easily have snapped at her, but he just looked saddened. ‘You are too young to understand,’ he said with a sigh.

  ‘You’d be surprised what I understand,’ she retorted, thinking of her mother’s dying confession. ‘I know passion makes people behave recklessly.’

  He gave a humourless laugh. ‘And what, oh Wise One, should I do if I love a woman who is married to a man who makes her utterly miserable?’

  Beth was surprised and a little touched by his honesty. ‘So why did she marry him?’ she asked.

  ‘She was pushed into it by her family,’ he replied.

  Beth thought about that for a moment. ‘Then why doesn’t she just leave him?’

  ‘You surprise me,’ hesaid with a touch of sarcasm. ‘Ialways thought girls of your class believed in the sanctity of marriage.’

  Beth bristled at the mention of her class, and his assumption that a girl like her couldn’t have an open mind. ‘As I see it, there is no sanctity in a marriage of convenience.’

  ‘You sound bitter,’ he said, looking at her intently. ‘If you weren’t so young I’d think you were speaking from experience. But what you suggest is impossible anyway; her husband has her watched.’

  ‘By a servant?’ Beth asked. She remembered the woman had mentioned someone called Aggie.

  He nodded.

  For reasons she didn’t understand, Beth felt drawn into his problems and wanted to help him. ‘She’ll be easily distracted once we get to New York. Maybe your lady should make plans for then?’

  ‘And what kind of plan would a devious little minx like you devise?’ he said, a faint smile tweaking his lips.

  Beth could well understand why the woman Clarissa was taking such risks for him. It wasn’t just his face that was attractive, he had an easy manner too. ‘I think she would need help from another woman,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Her servant wouldn’t think to watch her so closely if she was with a friend.’

  ‘I’ll bear that idea in mind,’ he said, this time giving her a beaming smile. ‘Shame you aren’t in first class too, it could be you!’

  Beth laughed lightly. ‘I wish I was in first class. I don’t suppose so many people are seasick there. That was why I came up here, to get away from it. But I must go now, I’m frozen.’

  ‘And can I rely on you not to speak of this to anyone?’ he asked, raising one eyebrow questioningly.

  ‘Discretion is my middle name,’ she giggled.

  ‘Then, Miss Discretion, I hope we run into one another again,’ he said with a little bow. ‘And you must run along now before you freeze to death.’

  The rest of the voyage passed slowly and uneventfully, without Beth catching sight of the lovers again. As sickness had descended on so many of the steerage passengers there were no more nights of dancing, music and revelry, and Beth filled her days nursing, cleaning and minding the children of those too ill to take care of their own.

  There were many she’d helped who claimed she was an angel, but to Beth there was nothing extraordinary in taking care of others; she was used to it. Besides, the light was too bad to read, it was too cold to go up on deck for more than ten minutes at a time, and the people she liked most, Maria and Bridie in particular, were too poorly for fun or conversation.

  Sam would call for her to go up on deck with him several times during the day, and Jack Child invariably turned up too. Beth assumed it was because he had become friends with Sam, but her brother was quick to point out that she was the attraction.

  Beth didn’t really believe this because she’d become aware that everyone, male and female, admired Sam. He was funny, kind-hearted, daring and often outspoken.

  Yet whatever Jack’s reason for wanting to spend time with them, Beth was always pleased to see him. He was entertaining, quick-witted and worldly. He made her feel slightly giddy, and he always understood her little jokes and came back with sharp retorts that made her giggle. She often wished that it wasn’t so cold on deck so they could stay up there longer; as it was, she often prolonged their meetings until she was almost a block of ice. On the way back down the companionway they lingered chatting until one of the crew or stewards told them off for blocking the way.

  Sam’s activities were not curtailed by mere rules. He managed to flout them all by sheer charm, his smart appearance and his good manners. He’d somehow managed to get to know a young lady called Annabel in second class, and spent part of each day with her and her family in various pla
ces around the ship, even to the extent of eating with them and avoiding the disgusting daily meal of stew given to the steerage passengers.

  Beth might have been jealous if he hadn’t smuggled her back cake and fruit. Jack was awestruck by Sam’s cool-headed nerve and by his bearing which enabled him to get away with it.

  ‘If I walked through one of those grids they’d know straight off where I came from,’ he said with a wry grin. ‘I’d do better to nick a steward’s jacket and carry a tray to get in there. But the minute I opened me mouth the game would be up.’

  ‘They say there’s no class distinction in America,’ Beth pointed out. ‘All you need to better yourself is the ability to work hard.’

  Beth hadn’t really been aware of class distinction until her mother died. Before that, almost everyone she came into contact with had been the middling sort, respectable and industrious, just like her family. She was of course aware of the very poor; she saw them daily begging in the streets. But the gentry were so far removed from her, with their big houses, servants and fancy carriages, that they never touched her life.

  Going to work and later to live in Falkner Square had changed all that. Then she was a servant, observing the gentry from close quarters, and she became aware of the huge, unbridgeable gulf between her and them. The Langworthys had never made her feel inferior, but she had been made to feel so on this voyage just because they couldn’t afford a higher fare.

  At night as she lay in her bed, trying to blank out the groans of the sick around her and the ever-present smell of vomit, she would think about the promised classless society in America. Clearly there had to be some kind of hierarchy there too, but if it was based on wealth rather than birth or education, maybe if she and Sam worked hard they could end up with the kind of status the Langworthys held.

  Chapter Eleven