Gypsy

  At that moment Mrs Bruce came down the stairs with some dirty glasses on a tray. ‘This is the last of them,’ she said cheerily, unaware she had walked in on something.

  ‘They certainly all ate and drank their fill,’ Cook said loudly, clearly trying to break the tense atmosphere. ‘Isn’t it time you took Molly home now, Beth?’

  Mrs Langworthy got up abruptly and handed Molly back to Beth. ‘I’d better get back to my husband,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘He’s feeling a bit low too. I’m sure everything will be fine by tomorrow.’

  The mistress didn’t get up the following day. Kathleen took in her early morning tea as usual, and reported back in the kitchen that she was feeling poorly.

  ‘Too much sherry,’ Cook said with a wink at Beth, but she kept her voice down so Mrs Bruce wouldn’t hear.

  Mr Edward was out of sorts too. He snapped at Kathleen because his breakfast toast was cold, then went into his study and stayed there instead of going to his office.

  ‘It wouldn’t be fitting for him to go back to work today,’ Mrs Bruce said, as if she was trying to justify his actions. ‘He’ll have to sort out his father’s affairs and he must have dozens of letters to write. But I must say he’s taking this harder than I expected.’

  Beth understood why Mrs Bruce was a little perplexed, for Mr Edward had gone to his office even on the day his father died, and had seemed perfectly composed yesterday at the funeral. It was understandable that Mrs Langworthy had taken to her bed — she had after all been run ragged for over a week arranging everything. But putting together Mr Edward’s uncharacteristic behaviour today, and his wife’s emotional state yesterday, Beth felt sure they’d had a quarrel last night.

  Had she blamed him because she didn’t have a child of her own?

  Three days after the funeral, Mrs Langworthy was still in her bed. Mrs Bruce had been taking up her meals on a tray, but she only picked at them.

  ‘The doctor said he can’t find anything wrong with her,’ Beth heard her saying to Cook. ‘He thought it was just melancholy and that perhaps Mr Edward ought to take her away for a holiday. But who would want to do that in this weather?’

  It hadn’t snowed since the day of the funeral, but the temperature was so low that the snow was still lying and the wind was icy. It was so cold in the coach house that Beth stayed over in the house as long as possible, and she had been taking Molly into bed with her at night to keep her warm. Sam had been staying later at the hotel too, perhaps for the same reasons, so Beth hadn’t even had an opportunity to speak to him about America.

  ‘Beth, why don’t you go up and see her?’ Mrs Bruce suggested. ‘Take Molly with you, I’m sure that will cheer her up.’

  It was mid-afternoon, and as there was no more work Beth could find that would give her an excuse to remain in the house, and it was far too cold to go out anywhere, she was only too glad to agree.

  Mrs Langworthy was lying back listlessly on the pillows, not even reading, but when she saw Beth and Molly her face lit up. ‘What a nice surprise. I was just thinking about Molly. Let her come on the bed with me,’ she said, patting the coverlet.

  Beth lifted her on and pulled up a chair for herself by the bed. Molly bounced around, then made the mistress laugh by playing peekaboo with her with the blanket.

  ‘What is wrong, mam?’ Beth asked after chatting about Molly for a little while. ‘Do you hurt anywhere? Have you been sick?’

  ‘No, nothing like that,’ Mrs Langworthy replied, and looked down fondly at Molly who was now snuggled up beside her as if intending to go to sleep. ‘I just feel weary with the pointlessness of my life.’

  ‘My mother said something like that to me once,’ Beth said thoughtfully. ‘I was a bit hurt at the time, but I suppose she meant just cooking and cleaning all day.’

  ‘Women do get weary.’ Mrs Langworthy sighed. ‘I know I should be counting my blessings, I’ve got a lovely home and a kind husband, but you see, I always counted on having children, and now it doesn’t seem as if I’m ever going to be blessed with any. I didn’t let myself think about it too much when my father-in-law was alive, I had too much to do. But now I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel so sad.’

  Beth felt a little uncomfortable hearing this. To her Mrs Langworthy had a perfect life, and she thought she ought to go down to some of the squalid courts in the Scotland district of Liverpool and see how life was for the women there.

  Perhaps her mistress picked up her thoughts because she reached out and put her hand over Beth’s. ‘I’m sorry, my dear, I was forgetting how much sadness you’ve had in your young life. Whatever must you think of me?’

  ‘I think of you as the very nicest, kindest person in the world,’ Beth replied truthfully. ‘You took us in when we had no one else to turn to. I’ll always be so grateful for that.’

  ‘You’ve more than repaid me,’ Mrs Langworthy said. ‘But tell me, Beth, don’t you ever feel aggrieved that you were burdened with Molly?’

  Beth looked down at her sister and smiled because she’d fallen asleep with her thumb in her mouth. ‘I haven’t ever seen her as a burden,’ she said. ‘Maybe I’m tied, I have to think about what’s right for her, instead of me, but I don’t feel aggrieved about it.’

  ‘That’s a very selfless attitude,’ Mrs Langworthy said. ‘But tell me, have you and Sam had any more thoughts about going to America?’

  Beth’s heart sank, sure that this was Mrs Langworthy’s way of getting around to telling her she was no longer needed. ‘It’s never out of Sam’s thoughts,’ she said carefully. ‘But since Mr Langworthy died, I have been rather more troubled about our position here. With so much less laundry, you won’t be needing me any more.’

  ‘Not need you!’ Her mistress looked shocked. ‘Of course I’ll still need you. You didn’t surely think I would put you out?’

  ‘You mean I can stay on with Molly?’

  ‘Of course, my dear. It never even crossed my mind to dismiss you. You are invaluable — I know you have always done jobs that weren’t really yours.’

  ‘Thank you so much, mam, I was so scared of what might become of us,’ Beth admitted. ‘And it will make it so much easier for me to let Sam go to America on his own. You see, I’d come to the conclusion that was the right thing to do. Then maybe in a few years’ time, when he’s settled, Molly and I could join him there.’

  ‘But you could go with him now if you left Molly with us.’

  Beth looked hard at her mistress, a little puzzled by what she’d said.

  ‘I couldn’t do that,’ she said. ‘It’s not as if I could be back in just a couple of weeks.’

  ‘I didn’t mean just minding her for a few weeks,’ Mrs Langworthy said, looking intently at Beth. ‘I meant permanently.’

  Beth was so shocked her mouth fell open. ‘Permanently?’

  ‘Don’t look so startled, Beth! Surely you can see this is the best possible solution for you and Sam? My husband and I would love her as our own, she’d live in this lovely house, go to the best schools and never want for anything.’

  Beth was scandalized. ‘But she’s my flesh and blood!’

  ‘But that’s all the more reason to let us ensure she has a good life,’ Mrs Langworthy said, two bright red spots of colour appearing on her cheeks as if she were feverish. ‘When I was a girl I knew several big families that allowed one or two of their children to go and live with a wealthier relative. It was common practice.’

  Beth also knew people who had done this. ‘But you aren’t a relative,’ she pointed out. ‘I couldn’t let Molly grow up thinking I gave her away!’

  ‘I wasn’t for one moment suggesting that you sever all connection with her.’ Mrs Langworthy looked affronted. ‘You could write to her, come back and visit her. I would tell her I was her guardian, I would never claim to be her mother. She could call me Aunt Ruth.’

  Beth felt as if someone had opened a trapdoor beneath her feet and she was falling into space. She knew the Langworthys
could give her little sister everything a child could want or need, but for almost fourteen months Molly had, to all intents and purposes, become Beth’s own baby, and her instinct was to fight tooth and nail for her.

  She reached out and ran one finger down Molly’s little face, suddenly afraid Mrs Langworthy had the power to take her even if she and Sam refused their permission.

  ‘Think about it long and hard, Beth,’ Mrs Langworthy said softly, reaching out and touching her arm. ‘I know I’ve shocked you and perhaps you even feel that I’m insulting you by suggesting this. But you must believe me when I say that no one could have done a better job of rearing Molly so far, especially as you are so young.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you have her,’ Beth said fiercely. ‘I love her too much.’

  ‘I know you love her, but don’t dismiss my offer out of hand,’ the older woman said. ‘Think what it could mean to you. You’d be free as a bird to go with Sam. Your life could be your own again, you could do what you want to do. But you’ll still be Molly’s sister, nothing and no one could take that from you.’

  Beth couldn’t bear to hear any more. She gathered the sleeping child up into her arms and backed towards the door, apologizing as she went.

  Sam arrived home at half past eight. Normally it was gone midnight before he got home, but it had been so quiet in the Adelphi Hotel that the bar manager had told him to go early. When he saw the windows glowing from the lamp, he was pleased because that meant he and Beth could have a chat. She was normally fast asleep when he got in.

  But as soon as he opened the door and saw her sitting hunched up in front of the fire, a blanket around her shoulders, he knew something was wrong.

  ‘What’s happened?’ he asked. His hands and feet were like blocks of ice and he went over to the stove to warm them. ‘They haven’t told you they don’t need you any more?’

  Beth had raised that anxiety just last Sunday, but Sam didn’t believe they would dispense with her, for at Christmas he’d sensed how fond both Mr and Mrs Langworthy had become of her.

  ‘Mrs Langworthy wants us to give Molly to her,’ she blurted out, and promptly burst into tears.

  Sam knelt on the floor in front of her and prompted her till she eventually told him exactly what had been said.

  ‘Is that so bad?’ he asked when she’d finished. ‘She’s right, it would be good for Molly.’

  ‘You’ve never cared about her,’ Beth accused him bitterly. ‘If you’d had your way she’d have gone to the Foundling Home.’

  ‘Maybe I wasn’t too nice about her when she was born,’ Sam agreed, blushing with shame. ‘I’m sorry for that now. But she could have a much better life with them than she could with us. We could get a passage to America, have a high old time. Think how marvellous that would be!’

  ‘I don’t want a high old time, I want Molly.’ Beth began to cry and covered her face with her hands. ‘I’d made up my mind to tell you to go alone. I know it isn’t fair of me to hold you back. So you go and I’ll keep her.’

  Sam said nothing for a while, just knelt at Beth’s feet while she cried into her hands. He did often think about their mother’s infidelity, and felt bitter that his father took his own life because of it, but he didn’t feel any resentment towards Molly any longer.

  How could he? She was the sweetest little thing; in fact he was sure that if he had been with her constantly as Beth had, he’d be just as indignant and horrified at this suggestion as his sister was.

  As it was, he was able to view the situation more dispassionately. There was no doubt the Langworthys could give Molly the best of upbringings. They were wealthy, influential people, but they had kind hearts too. But for their generosity in giving him and Beth a home after the fire, they could well have been forced to live in a slum, and Molly wouldn’t be the healthy, happy baby she was.

  Maybe he was thinking of himself to some extent. It would be wonderful to sail for America with Beth, unfettered by a small child. They could go where they wanted to, be free to do as they pleased, and with both of them able to work they could accumulate far more money.

  Above all else he wanted Beth to have a good life, a loving husband and children of her own. But she wasn’t going to get that with Molly in tow, for people would always think she was Beth’s illegitimate child. Beth could hope for nothing more than being a servant, and she deserved better than that.

  But how could he convince his sister that he wasn’t just thinking of himself?

  ‘I could go to America, then send for you once I’m settled,’ he said. ‘But I don’t want to go without you, Beth. And now this has come up with the Langworthys, how are they going to be with us if we turn them down? What if they ask us to leave? What then?’

  ‘They won’t do that,’ Beth said quickly, but she looked at Sam questioningly. ‘Will they?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘Mr Edward might feel that Molly’s presence upsets his wife. People do turn nasty when they don’t get what they want.’

  Sam decided he would stop at that. Beth knew only too well that they would never find another place like this to live. Nor was she likely to find another job where Molly was welcome. She was intelligent enough to take that into account when she made her decision.

  That night Sam couldn’t sleep, for he knew Beth was lying awake in the next room worrying. They had talked round and round the subject, and he sensed that Beth knew in her heart that for Molly, giving her to the Langworthys was the kindest thing they could do. The events and struggles of the last year had taught them both how precarious life could be. They didn’t have to stray far from Falkner Square to see how easy it was to fall into the abyss of poverty.

  But Sam was also aware that Beth couldn’t be entirely rational because she loved Molly so much. She wasn’t able to think as he could, of herself, to get excited by the prospect of freedom and adventure. Or even to believe that maybe once Molly was grown up she could come out and join them in America.

  And despite all he’d said tonight, and in the past, Sam had looked in on Molly asleep in the room next door before he went to bed, and his heart had swelled with affection for her. He couldn’t imagine a day without seeing those big brown eyes, hearing her merry chuckles and watching her toddling around the room. He had done his best not to let his heart become engaged, but he had failed, and it wouldn’t be only Beth who felt the pain of parting.

  Beth woke him the following morning as she always did. Her eyes were red and she was very pale. She handed him a cup of tea and sat down on the end of his bed.

  ‘Will you come home this afternoon?’ she asked.

  It was Saturday, and Sam finished work at the shipping office at noon. Usually he visited friends in the afternoon and went straight to the Adelphi in the early evening.

  ‘If you want me to,’ he said.

  ‘I do. I want you to come over to the house and talk to Mr Langworthy about Molly,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘If he really wants this as much as his wife does, then I think it’s best we agree to it.’

  A lump came up in Sam’s throat, for he knew how much pain she was in. He couldn’t bring himself to offer any platitudes. ‘I’ll come straight home,’ he said. ‘You are so brave, Beth.’

  ‘It’s not brave. Brave would be taking her to America with us or walking out of here with my nose in the air. But I got to thinking what Papa would have made of this. I believe he would have said we should give Molly what is best for her.’

  Sam privately thought that as his father hadn’t considered his own children when he killed himself, he would have had no views on this situation, but he kept that to himself. ‘Yes, I think he would too.’ He nodded. ‘But before we agree, we must get them to promise they tell Molly about us and make sure she writes to us when she’s old enough.’

  Beth’s eyes filled up with fresh tears. ‘I think we should say it has to be done quickly too. I couldn’t bear to have to wait weeks with this hanging over us.’

  ‘I
’ve got enough for our passages now,’ Sam replied. ‘But only just.’

  ‘We’ll manage,’ Beth said fiercely.

  Beth was hoping against hope that when they spoke to Mr Edward he would tell them that his wife wasn’t in her right mind because she was poorly. But at three o’clock, the time she’d asked Mrs Bruce to fix for her and Sam to talk to him, he opened the drawing-room door as they came up the stairs from the basement and there was a kind of glow in his eyes.

  He didn’t have the warmth his wife had; he was starchy and cool with everyone. Beth knew that was due mostly to his upbringing and his business responsibilities, but she had seen him unbend when talking to Molly.

  ‘You want to discuss the proposition my wife put to you?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Beth said, her legs turning to jelly.

  ‘Come on in and sit down,’ he said.

  The fire was roaring up the chimney and the lamp had been lit as it was such a dark grey day. Mrs Langworthy was there too, wearing the same black dress she’d worn for the funeral, but she looked much better than she had the previous day. She was seated by the fire, and Mr Edward indicated for Beth and Sam to sit down on the couch in front of it. He remained standing, his elbow on the mantelpiece.

  ‘My wife fears you may think she made her suggestion rashly, without consulting me. But in fact she raised it with me back at Christmas,’ he began.

  ‘And your views at that time?’ Sam said archly.

  ‘That Molly was a delightful baby, one I could certainly care for as my own. But we weren’t in a position to discuss the possibility of it with you, not while my father required so much care.’

  ‘But just a few days after his death you felt it was appropriate to tackle Beth on the subject?’ Sam said sarcastically.

  Mr Edward blushed. ‘I was very alarmed when my wife informed me she’d spoken out so bluntly. It should have been handled with tact and at a far more appropriate time.’

  ‘Please forgive me for that.’ Mrs Langworthy spoke up, wringing her hands anxiously. ‘I’m afraid my affection for both Molly and Beth made me too impulsive and if I did offend or even frighten her, then I am so terribly sorry.’