Gypsy

  But it wasn’t only his touch that set her on fire, it was the way he spoke too. His voice was deep, but soft and cultured, and almost everything he told her, whether it was about his life back in England or the people he’d met since he’d been in America, he made so vivid that she could see it clearly.

  ‘Miss Marchment, my landlady, is living in greatly reduced circumstances,’ he told her. ‘She has the air of a duchess even though she’s old and frail and has nothing coming in other than the rent for the rooms she lets out. She sits all day in a purple velvet chair worn thin with age, a lacy shawl around her shoulders, and gives her orders to her maid as if she were still in control of a staff of twenty. The house is crumbling with neglect, the rugs threadbare, a thick layer of dust on her pictures, mirrors and ornaments, but she invites me in for tea and orders her maid to make it in the battered silver teapot. Such a gracious old lady!’

  ‘Does the maid clean your room for you?’ Beth asked, not liking the idea of him living in squalor.

  ‘Yes, she does, I guess she knows that if the tenants leave she’ll get no more wages. But the poor soul has so much to do that she just doesn’t have time to clean her mistress’s rooms thoroughly.’

  ‘Is she old too?’ Beth asked.

  ‘About fifty. She’s worked for Mrs Marchment all her life. But you don’t want to hear sad stories about old ladies. Tell me about the people in your house.’

  Perhaps it was because he described people so vividly that Beth found herself doing so too. She told him about the crazy Irishman on the first floor who shouted out every time someone passed his door, and the strange little Polish man who scuttled down the street clutching a brown leather satchel to his chest, his eyes swivelling from side to side as if he was carrying state secrets and believed someone was going to snatch them. Theo roared with laughter, making several other people in the coffee shop look round at him.

  ‘I think it’s time we got some dinner,’ he said, chuckling as he took her hand again to kiss it. ‘It’s so good to be with someone beautiful who also makes me laugh. Most beautiful women, I find, have no sense of humour.’

  By Thanksgiving Day in November, Beth was so deeply in love with Theo that she could think of nothing else from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning till she fell asleep at night.

  She felt he loved her too, even if he had never said so, for he always made an effort to see her once a week, even when he had to go out of New York on business. Nor had he dropped her because she wouldn’t let him have his way with her.

  He had asked if he could come up to her room the second time they went out but she refused because she knew she was likely to get swept away by his kisses and caresses once they were alone.

  On their third meeting he suggested taking her away to a hotel for a night. She pretended to be affronted at the suggestion, but in fact she was tempted, for at least her neighbours wouldn’t know what she was getting up to. But sweet reason prevailed: she only had to think of what happened to her mother, and she knew she couldn’t take the risk, not just of having a child, but maybe of Theo throwing her aside once he’d got what he wanted.

  Since then Theo was always saying how much he wanted her, but although he tried plenty of gentle persuasion, he was never forceful. And when he talked of the future, it was as if his plans included her.

  Sad as Theo’s long absences made Beth, she was quite relieved that he was still away as Thanksgiving Day approached. Amy and Kate had decided that Beth and Sam’s first Thanksgiving in America should be marked properly and they planned to cook them a traditional turkey dinner.

  As there was so little room in their own apartment, they had asked Beth if they could cook it in hers, and suggested the Rossinis should be invited too. Beth asked Sam to invite his lady friend, but his look of horror suggested he had no intention of bringing his sweetheart to a dinner party with two whores and an elderly Italian couple who only spoke a smattering of English.

  Yet as the day grew closer, Amy’s enthusiasm for this special meal began to win both Beth and Sam over. Sam brought home an old door and fixed it over a couple of trestles to make a table big enough for them all; they borrowed chairs from different people in the house; Ira lent them an embroidered tablecloth, and Mrs Rossini dug out her old family recipes to cook a special dessert.

  Amy and Kate surpassed themselves in cooking the meal. By six o’clock everything was ready, the turkey a deep golden brown and vegetables perfectly cooked. They were all just about to take their places around the table when Jack turned up.

  Beth had seen him a few times since they split up, mostly in Heaney’s when she’d only been able to wave from a distance, but he had come into Ira’s shop a couple of times to say hello. The first time he came she was afraid he was pursuing her, but when he made it clear he was only being friendly, even mentioning a girl he’d taken dancing, she was glad they could be friends again.

  ‘I wouldn’t have come if I’d known you had company,’ he said, looked a little embarrassed. ‘I brought you some meat and some fruit.’

  ‘It’s lovely to see you and you’re more than welcome to join us,’ Beth said, taking the bag from his hands. It contained a quantity of lamb chops, some sausages, and apples and oranges. ‘Thank you so much. It’s very kind of you.’

  ‘The boss gave us all a bag of stuff for Thanksgiving,’ he said a little sheepishly. ‘Too much for me to eat on my own.’

  Jack’s unexpected arrival turned out to be a blessing for he turned what might have been a dull party into a noisy, jolly one.

  He made Amy and Kate laugh a great deal, stopped Sam from feeling awkward about having to entertain all the women, and as he had learned quite a bit of Italian from some of his workmates, he could include the Rossinis in the conversation.

  Beth observed that the callow youth with few social graces she’d met on the ship had become a self-possessed and very amusing man. Hard physical work had given him muscle, his angular face had filled out, and the scar gave his face extra character. He was also far more articulate than she remembered. He told them stories about the men he worked alongside with humour, yet they were tempered with a great deal of understanding of the problems many of these foreign immigrants were facing.

  Beth watched him flirting with Amy and Kate and guessed that he’d gained all this poise through women. He laughed when she asked him if he had a sweetheart, and charmingly said that his heart was still in her keeping. But that remark in itself proved someone was responsible for polishing him up. He would never have said such a thing when they were walking out together.

  Everyone had drunk rather too much wine by the end of the evening. The Rossinis kissed them all on both cheeks and thanked them profusely before they went off to bed. Amy and Kate left too, and it was only when Jack remained, sitting on Sam’s bed, that Beth felt a pang of anxiety that he was going to be difficult.

  But she was wrong.

  ‘I hope you don’t think I come round tonight lookin’ fer a free feed,’ he said, looking from Beth to Sam. ‘It weren’t that, I came cos I heard sommat the other day what bothered me.’

  ‘About Beth?’ Sam asked.

  ‘No, not about either of you, just about Pat Heaney. There’s trouble brewing, he’s fallen out with a geezer name of Fingers Malone. Both Fingers and Heaney have each got a gang behind them, blokes they’ve bin in with since they was young.’

  Sam nodded. ‘I’ve heard that much. I’ve met Fingers too — he used to come in the bar most nights when I first started there.’

  ‘Yeah, well, the word is that there’s going to be some kind of showdown soon. It won’t be just a scrap between Heaney and Fingers, it could be all-out gang war. I thought I ought to warn you so that at the first sign of trouble you both get out of there.’

  ‘We’ll take your advice,’ Sam said a little starchily, as if he resented Jack hearing this before he did.

  ‘That’s not all.’ Jack looked sharply at Sam. ‘I’m worried about Beth’s safety. S
he’s valuable to Heaney, and Fingers knows it. He may even think she’s Heaney’s woman.’

  ‘How could anyone think that?’ Beth exclaimed.

  ‘Maybe cos Heaney’s let folk think that,’ Jack replied.

  Jack left soon afterwards and the door was barely shut behind him before Sam claimed he was talking nonsense. ‘What does he know? This will be a half-baked rumour that he’s picked up on and he’s using it to make himself look important.’

  ‘That’s a horrible thing to say,’ Beth said indignantly. ‘You’re just cross because Jack heard it before you. But no one would dare tell you; you’re too close to Heaney, and they’d be afraid you’d warn him.’

  ‘Me close to Heaney!’ Sam snorted indignantly. ‘I can’t stand him.’

  ‘That’s not the way it looks to other people. They all know he trusts you.’

  ‘Jack just wants to worm his way back in with us,’ Sam said scornfully. ‘What better way to do it than by making out you are in danger? Before you know it he’ll be offering to escort you home each night; he’s jealous because he’s heard you’re walking out with Theo.’

  Beth was less concerned about gang rivalry than she was about Theo, who was still away. Every night she played she searched the faces in the audience, hoping he’d be there.

  Sam did take the precaution of always escorting her home in a cab after she played, even though it meant he often had to return to the saloon afterwards to serve drinks at private card games. But he made a point of saying it was the right thing for a brother to do, and that it had nothing to do with what Jack had said.

  Snow fell during the night on Molly’s second birthday in mid-December, and Beth woke to find the city under a white blanket, bringing back poignant memories of both her sister’s birth and her mother’s death. She had always tried hard not to dwell on her mother. Even when she posted a present and a card for Molly’s birthday a couple of weeks earlier, she kept her thoughts to what her baby sister would be like now, not how she came to be born. But with Theo still away and no word from him, she couldn’t help feeling she’d been cast aside, just as her mother had been.

  More snow came and the New York shops looked beautiful, all decked out for Christmas. Many of the very smartest ones had the new electric light installed, and as darkness fell in the streets their fantastically dressed windows were ablaze with light and colour. Even the very smallest shops and stalls on the streets sported decorations and extra oil lamps, there were huge Christmas trees in many of the squares, and the air was rich with the smell of chestnuts roasting in charcoal burners.

  Beth bought presents — a royal blue woollen muffler for Sam, scented soap for Amy and Kate, a bottle of lavender cologne for Ira — and hoped that the lovely red dress and the rag doll she’d sent home to Molly would arrive in time for Christmas. She wanted to buy a present for Theo too, but she decided to wait a little longer, to see if he would turn up again.

  Two days before Christmas Eve, still with no word from him, Beth was feeling very glum. The shop had been very busy all day, and the constant cry of ‘Merry Christmas’ as people left the shop made it worse for her, knowing she had no one special to spend the day with.

  Ira must have noticed that she wasn’t quite herself. ‘Honey, you should get Jack to take you out dancing,’ she suggested out of the blue. ‘You don’t want to hang around waiting for a man who can’t even send you a letter when he’s away to tell you he’s thinking of you.’

  Beth didn’t appreciate Ira making such remarks. She sulked for a while, but by mid-afternoon she came out of it and tried on a pretty, deep pink dress that Ira had remarked was perfect for her.

  Ira was right, and when Beth asked if she could buy it, the old lady said she’d like to give it to her as a Christmas present.

  ‘You’re a good girl — I don’t know how I managed before you came,’ Ira said with slightly moist eyes. ‘Giving you a dress that was made for you is the least I can do to thank you.’

  ‘Then I won’t hang around waiting for Theo,’ Beth replied. ‘I’ll take up the Rossinis’ invitation for Sam and me to have Christmas dinner with them. Maybe if Jack’s in at Heaney’s tonight, I’ll even hint that he takes me dancing.’

  It was bitterly cold when she left Ira’s at five. She tucked the parcel containing her new dress under her arm, wrapped her muffler around her neck, and with her gloved hands in a fur muff Ira had also given her, set off for the market to buy some fruit, nuts and candy to share with the Rossinis.

  There was a new cheeriness in people’s faces as Beth walked down the Bowery. An organ-grinder had decked out his organ with glittery stars, and it was playing ‘Silent Night’, and she saw a group of children watching in awe as a man wound up some clockwork toys on a stall. She stopped to look at a bear clashing cymbals and a man rowing a boat. She considered buying the bear and sending it home to Molly, but decided it was likely to end up broken in the post.

  She turned the corner, and after the bright lights of the Bowery it was very dark. She was aware of someone close behind her, but there was nothing unusual about that for it was early in the evening.

  When a hand clamped down on her shoulder, she dropped her parcel in fright.

  ‘Don’t make a sound,’ a gruff male voice warned her. ‘I’ve got a knife at your back.’

  She froze, for she could feel something digging into her coat. Her first thought was that the man wanted to rob her, for that wasn’t uncommon in this area.

  ‘I’ve only got a couple of dollars,’ she said. ‘But you can have that.’

  ‘You’re worth more than a couple of dollars to me,’ he said. ‘Now walk, do as I say, and you’ll be fine. Squeal, and I’ll stick the knife in you.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Where’s that sister of yours?’ Pat Heaney asked Sam. He took his watch out of his vest pocket and looked at it. ‘What’s she playing at? It’s nearly half past eight!’

  The saloon was packed and Sam had been so busy for the last hour that he hadn’t noticed the time. But at Heaney’s words he checked the clock on the wall behind the bar. ‘I don’t know where she is,’ he said, immediately feeling a cold chill run down his spine, for Beth was never late. ‘She was working at Ira’s today as usual. Pebbles went in there to buy something, he said he’d seen her.’

  Pebbles was the pot man, so named because he wore thick glasses.

  ‘If she lets me down tonight she’ll be out of a job,’ Heaney snarled.

  ‘She wouldn’t let you down,’ Sam said defensively. ‘Even if she was taken ill she’d get a message to you.’

  ‘Maybe that old crow Roebling has been taken bad,’ Heaney said. ‘I’ll send someone down there to ask.’

  He walked away from the bar, and Sam saw him order Pebbles to go and check.

  There were men clamouring to buy a drink, and as Sam poured their beer and took their money, he remembered Jack’s warning.

  He had been convinced Jack had made up all that stuff about Fingers Malone and Heaney as a ruse to get in with him and Beth again. The only reason Sam had been taking Beth home at nights was to give the man no excuse to try to muscle in.

  Yet now Jack’s warning didn’t seem so far-fetched, and Sam served drinks with one eye on the door. When Pebbles returned around ten minutes later and went over to Heaney, Sam could wait no longer.

  Leaving the bar, he pushed his way through the drinkers towards Heaney. ‘Any news?’ he asked.

  ‘She left the shop at five,’ Heaney growled. ‘She was going to the market before going home. You’d better get round and see if she’s there.’

  Sam ran the whole way, his legs going like pistons. He clattered up the stairs and into the apartment. Mrs Rossini was in the kitchen and looked round in surprise.

  ‘Has Beth been home?’ Sam asked.

  She shook her head and added something in Italian. Sam felt she was trying to ask why he looked so worried. But he couldn’t spare the time to try to find words she would understand, and went i
nto their room. Beth’s fiddle case was on the floor by the window, just where it had been when he left the room at midday to start work. He looked at the dresses she wore when she was playing and all three of them were still hanging on the wall.

  He realized it was possible Theo had come back, met her at the shop and whisked her off somewhere. Under normal circumstances Beth wouldn’t go anywhere if she was expected at the saloon, but as Sam knew, the heart took over from the head when romance was in the air, and she had been moping over Theo for weeks.

  Yet even if she had done that, Sam knew she would’ve come back here first and left a note for him, if only to ask him to tell Heaney she was ill.

  Amy and Kate were out and the Irish family they shared with hadn’t seen Beth either.

  Sam ran back to Heaney’s. He was really scared now. Beth’s safety was uppermost in his mind, but he didn’t relish having to tell Heaney that he’d heard a rumour about Fingers and not divulged it.

  In the room at the back of the saloon, Sam told Heaney he was afraid Fingers might have kidnapped Beth, and why, and predictably the man blew his top.

  ‘You heard that Fingers was about to declare war on me and you didn’t tell me?’ he roared.

  Sam apologized and explained that he hadn’t believed it. ‘I was told I should watch out for Beth, that’s why I’m scared they’ve done that.’

  He fully expected Heaney to scoff at this. But he didn’t; instead he scratched his head and looked worried.

  ‘Would they have taken her?’ Sam asked.

  ‘How would I know?’ Heaney snarled. ‘But one thing’s certain, we’ll soon know if the mother-fucker’s got her because he’ll make some demand.’

  He had no sympathy for Sam. It was clear from his agitation that his main concern was not Beth’s safety but his own loss of face.

  ‘Get back behind the bar and keep this to yourself,’ he ordered him.