Gypsy

  She also sensed the housekeeper’s disapproval. The woman was thin, with sharp features and iron-grey hair, and she certainly didn’t look like someone Beth could win round.

  ‘Mr Cadogan would have made his plans for today some weeks ago,’ Miss Doughty retorted. ‘Gentlemen do not cancel such arrangements lightly and he has asked me to make sure you rest and do not go out.’

  ‘I’m sorry for intruding on you,’ Beth said in an effort to appease the woman. ‘The breakfast looks wonderful.’

  ‘Eat it up while it’s hot. I’ll be back later when you are dressed to take you down to meet Miss Marchment. Make sure you put on something plain, you don’t want to alarm her by looking like a saloon girl.’

  She left then, sweeping out of the room and leaving Beth feeling shaken.

  Meeting Miss Marchment was an even more unpleasant experience. Her room on the ground floor was gloomy and squalid. It stank of cat’s urine and made the comfort and cleanliness of Theo’s all the more remarkable. It was difficult to judge Miss Marchment’s true age, for although her wrinkled, yellow-tinged skin, her black clothes and the lacy cap over her white hair suggested she was very old, her loud, brusque voice seemed to belong to someone much younger. She was small and slender but her hands were swollen and looked painful, and Beth thought she probably suffered from rheumatics.

  She didn’t show the slightest sympathy or concern for Beth, instead firing questions about her family background as if she believed only someone from the gutter could have got herself into such a plight. Beth attempted to impress on her that she was in fact genteelly brought up, but the old lady retorted that any girl working in a saloon was courting trouble. She even added that she hoped Beth wasn’t taking advantage of Mr Cadogan’s good nature.

  Beth tried not to be rude back, merely stating that it had been Theo’s suggestion to bring her here because she was exhausted after her ordeal. ‘I am very grateful for his kindness, and indeed to you for allowing me to stay a few days, but I shall be joining my brother as soon as possible,’ she finished up.

  It was clear Theo hadn’t informed his landlady that he was intending to leave her shortly, and Beth didn’t enlighten her.

  Her spirits fell to an even lower ebb when she returned to Theo’s room. She was an unwelcome guest in an area she didn’t know. Nor did she know where Jack and Sam were in Philadelphia. She felt trapped and completely dependent on Theo.

  Her thoughts naturally turned back to the previous Christmas at Falkner Square, and as she thought of Molly toddling around the kitchen, and all the warmth and laughter there had been, the feeling of utter safety and happiness, she ached to be back there.

  Just after seven that evening Theo came back, bursting into the room and bringing with him the smell of cigars and images of a table laden with food and drink, and jovial company. ‘I wish I could have taken you with me today,’ he said, drawing her into his arms for a long, sensual kiss which set Beth’s head reeling.

  Miss Doughty came up soon afterwards, bringing them a cold supper of ham and pickles. Beth didn’t have to ask why Theo got his meals cooked and his laundry and cleaning taken care of when the other four boarders, at present with their families for Christmas, had to fend for themselves. He had a way about him that would make any woman, no matter how old, want to take care of him.

  After they’d eaten their supper, and Beth had moved to sit close to the fire, Theo took her fiddle out of its case and handed it to her.

  ‘Surely you don’t want me to play it now?’ she said in some surprise. ‘Won’t I disturb Miss Marchment?’

  He chuckled. ‘She’d be more disturbed by silence. She’d think I was making love to you. But I thought it would keep you occupied because I have to go out again in a minute or two anyway.’

  Beth felt her heart sink with disappointment. ‘I thought you said it was dangerous for you to go out?’ she said quietly.

  ‘It would be if I was bound for the Bowery.’ He shrugged, picking up his hairbrush and moving over to the looking-glass. ‘But I have business in far more salubrious parts of the city.’

  Perhaps he sensed her disappointment for he came over to her and embraced her.

  ‘I have people to see and business arrangements to sort,’ he said, kissing her forehead tenderly. ‘I would of course much prefer to stay here with you, but then I would be tempted to make love to you. When we get to Philadelphia everything will be different. And you must practise your fiddle, for when we get there I’m going to present you in all the best places.’

  Beth did play her fiddle after he’d gone. Her fingers were stiff and bruised, in fact her whole body ached and it took effort just to hold the instrument, but playing it was her tried and tested way of calming herself. She didn’t attempt the gay-spirited jigs she’d played in Healey’s, but some of the plaintive, slower melodies she had learned as a child from her grandfather. He had once said they brought back the beauty of Ireland for him: he could see Galway Bay in the mist, the purple-topped mountains and the wild flowers on the bogs in spring. For Beth they were soothing sound pictures, ones of love and security, for she could see the parlour in Church Street, her parents sitting close together on the couch, her grandfather leaning back in his chair, eyes closed and a smile on his face.

  On 28 December Beth and Theo caught the train to Philadelphia. Theo had informed Miss Marchment that he was leaving just the previous night, and Beth had heard her voice raised in anger.

  Theo didn’t divulge to Beth what had been said. His only comment was that he’d never told Miss Marchment that he was going to stay permanently.

  ‘I do so hate it when people try to pin me down as if I’m their property,’ he added, as if by way of a warning to Beth.

  ∗

  It was dark when they arrived in Philadelphia, and a cab took them a short distance from the railway station to a street of old Federal-style houses. The door was opened by a short, squat black woman wearing a white apron and a spotted turban. ‘Mr Cadogan!’ she said with a smile as wide as a slice of watermelon. ‘It sure is good to see you again.’

  ‘It’s good to see you again too, Pearl,’ he said, patting her cheek with obvious affection. ‘This is Miss Bolton, come to join her brother.’

  Pearl looked appraisingly at Beth, perhaps surprised that she looked so different to Sam. ‘You are very welcome, Miss Bolton, but I’m afraid Sam and Jack have gone out on some business. They’ll be back later, though, so I’ll get you some supper and then show you your room.’

  Beth was disappointed that Sam and Jack weren’t there to meet her, but it was a relief to find herself in an elegant, comfortable and warm house. The doors and banisters were shiny with varnish, there was thick carpet on the stairs, and large, gleaming mirrors framed in gold reflected the light from the gas mantles.

  As Pearl led them to the kitchen at the back of the house, Beth caught a glimpse of a sumptuous parlour furnished in red and gold with a blazing fire.

  ‘A bit different from Miss Marchment’s, eh?’ Theo said with a smile.

  Beth had heard laughter coming from the rooms upstairs, but as neither Theo nor Pearl, who she assumed was the housekeeper, volunteered any information about the rest of the household, Beth ate the supper of soup, bread and cheese and just listened as Theo chatted to Pearl.

  It was clear he’d charmed her as he had Miss Marchment, for the woman hung on his every word, fussing around him and showing her delight that he was to stay for a while.

  ‘I’ve got some business to attend to,’ he said to Beth as he finished his supper. ‘But Pearl will take care of you until Sam and Jack return. I shall see you in the morning.’

  ‘You look very tired,’ Pearl said solicitously after Theo had gone. ‘I’ll take you to your room now and let you settle in.’

  Pearl led the way down to the basement holding an oil lamp and Beth followed carrying her valise. It felt cold down there after the warmth of the kitchen and Pearl apologized for it, saying she’d put a hot brick in B
eth’s bed.

  ‘Here we are,’ she said, opening a door in a long passageway with a rough stone floor. ‘That’s the laundry room,’ she went on, indicating a door to the left, and then, pointing to the right, explained that was Sam and Jack’s room.

  Beth’s room was small, around nine feet by seven feet, with a barred window. ‘It sure is poky but it’s real quiet,’ Pearl said. ‘Sam and Jack won’t be back till after midnight, so if you hear anything don’t be alarmed — it will only be them coming back. No one else comes down here. If you need anything, just come on up to the kitchen and holler.’

  The room was plain, nothing more than an iron bed, a wash stand with a tin basin and ewer, and a small clothes closet. But it looked and smelled clean and Beth was so tired she didn’t even feel dismayed that Theo had left her alone again.

  After Pearl had gone upstairs, she took the oil lamp and went into the next room where she was reassured to see one of Sam’s shirts hanging on a peg on the wall and Jack’s checked jacket on the back of a chair.

  Beth had just finished unpacking her valise when a clock upstairs struck ten. Thinking she would run up and ask Pearl if she could have some hot water for a wash, she made her way back to the staircase.

  The basement door opened up at the back of the hall, and as Beth reached it she heard people coming down the stairs from the first floor. Assuming they were family members, who might not wish to run into a stranger so late in the evening, Beth shrank back into the doorway.

  On the wall opposite was a large looking-glass, and suddenly reflected in it were four girls.

  She gasped in shock, for they weren’t the kind of sedate young ladies she had expected to see, but scantily dressed floozies, their breasts and legs partially revealed as their brightly coloured satin and lace garments fluttered around them.

  It was very obvious what they were, and indeed what this house was, for Amy and Kate had shown her similar garments more than once. Even Ira had a special section in her shop where she kept such things.

  All four girls, a blonde, two brunettes and one redhead, were young and pretty, and they were all giggling at a shared joke.

  ‘If he’s not done in ten minutes I’ll make him give me another ten dollars,’ the redhead said, spluttering with laughter.

  Beth took a step backwards on to the stairs to the basement and quietly closed the door, so shocked that she no longer cared if she had a wash. She wanted to believe that there could be another explanation, but she knew there couldn’t be.

  Theo had brought her to a brothel.

  Chapter Twenty

  Beth lay rigid in the narrow bed, too upset to sleep. It was very quiet in the basement, but if she strained her ears she could just make out the sound of laughter and the tinkling sounds of a piano from above.

  It was bad enough to think that women were selling their bodies to men up there, but she was even more affronted that Theo would bring her here without any warning.

  Could it be that he thought she was too stupid or too innocent to realize what this house was? Or was there a more sinister reason, namely, that he was planning to recruit her to the business?

  She had no idea what time it was when she finally heard Jack’s and Sam’s voices outside in the passage, but she guessed it to be well after one in the morning. Leaping out of bed, stopping only long enough to throw a shawl over her nightdress, she ran barefoot to the room next door.

  ‘Beth!’ Sam exclaimed. ‘We weren’t expecting you so soon.’

  ‘Are you feeling better now?’ Jack asked.

  It was clear both of them had been drinking for they were unsteady on their feet and had glazed eyes.

  She blurted out what she had seen and how upset she was that Theo hadn’t warned her. ‘Did he tell you what this place was before you got here?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, yes,’ Jack said a little sheepishly. ‘But he said we’d be down in the basement with no connection with what went on upstairs. We don’t even use that door, we come in through the basement one.’

  ‘Don’t take on, sis,’ Sam said, slurring his words a little. ‘It’s just a place to stay until we get something else, and we’ve already got work. Besides, it ain’t as if you’ve never met any whores before. Kate and Amy were your friends.’

  Beth had naively imagined that Sam had never known what her friends back in New York did for a living, and she felt awkward then. ‘But Theo didn’t tell me,’ she wailed.

  ‘Go back to bed,’ Sam said impatiently. ‘Yeah, Theo is a bit of a cad, why’d you think I didn’t want to leave you with him? But we’ve got a good place to live, work and everything’s just dandy. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’

  Beth looked beseechingly at Jack but he just shrugged. ‘There’s worse places than whorehouses,’ he said.

  It was barely light the following morning when Beth heard Theo’s voice. It sounded as if he was in the kitchen upstairs talking to someone. Full of fury that he’d not only betrayed her but corrupted her brother and friend too, she flung on her clothes and raced up there.

  He was sitting calmly at the table, drinking a cup of coffee and talking to Pearl. His mussed-up hair and the dark shadow on his chin proved he’d been out all night.

  ‘How could you do this to me?’ she raged at him, before he could even say good morning.‘ You led me to believe you were taking me somewhere respectable. This is a whorehouse!’

  She didn’t care if she offended Pearl, and when he laughed at her indignation she wanted to slap his handsome face.

  ‘Come now, Beth,’ he said, patting the chair next to him as if inviting her to sit down. ‘Do you really think anyone entirely respectable would take in people on the run from New York thugs?’

  That was something Beth hadn’t considered and it took the wind out of her sails.

  ‘I think you should be very grateful that a good person like Pearl was prepared to risk having trouble brought to her door,’ he added reprovingly.

  Beth glanced at Pearl, who was still in her night clothes with a little lacy cap over her hair. Her kindly face was full of concern and Beth felt a little ashamed of her outburst, for the woman had welcomed her so warmly last night. It also seemed that Pearl wasn’t a mere housekeeper, but the owner of the house. ‘You could have warned me,’ she said weakly. ‘It was such a shock.’

  ‘You ought to have been smart enough to work it out for yourself.’ Theo sighed, running his fingers through his hair. ‘You’ve been in Heaney’s pay for months now, you worked in a shop where most of the New York whores buy their clothes, I would’ve thought that would have opened your eyes to reality. Besides, you lost your respectable image the first time you played in a saloon.’

  Beth stared at him for a moment, hardly able to believe what he’d just said, but then, as it dawned on her that he was probably right, she burst into tears.

  It was Pearl who moved to comfort her.

  ‘There now, don’t take on,’ she said, enfolding Beth against her large bosom. ‘No harm’s going to come to you here, you don’t even have to meet my girls less you want to. But if you’re set on earning a living playing your fiddle, then you’ve got to live with being seen as a floozy.’

  ‘But why?’ Beth sobbed. ‘No one thinks anything bad about a man who plays an instrument. I’m not a bad girl, I just love music.’

  ‘It’s a man’s world, honey. Dancers, singers, actresses and musicians, they all get branded the same,’ Pearl said soothingly. ‘You can choose to be Miss Prim, go-to-church-on-Sunday, but that means you have to dress quiet, and find respectable employment and lead a dull life. But if you choose to be Miss Sassy the fiddle-player who sleeps till noon and has a heap of fun, you’ve got to learn not to give any mind to what people say.’

  ‘What’s it to be then, Beth?’ Theo asked. ‘Because I’ve got a debut lined up for you tonight.’

  Beth disengaged herself from Pearl’s arms, wiped her eyes and looked into his dark ones, hoping to see love in them. She could see amusement,
but that was all.

  ‘Then I guess I’ll have to play,’ she said airily. ‘It wouldn’t do to let you down after you’ve gone to so much trouble.’

  Maybe if she continued to amuse him he’d come to love her.

  ‘There you are, honey,’ Pearl said as she handed over Beth’s red dress which she’d just pressed for her. ‘And I’ve got a real pretty red hair ornament you can borrow if you like.’

  It was six in the evening and Beth had managed to overcome her shock about the nature of the house, for no one could have been kinder than Pearl.

  After their words that morning, Theo had disappeared off to his room which was further along the passage in the basement. Pearl told her that Jack and Sam wouldn’t surface until noon, and it seemed the girls upstairs were late-risers too.

  After washing and dressing properly Beth went back upstairs to offer Pearl some help with the chores for she felt bad about her earlier rudeness. Pearl’s wide smile showed she appreciated the offer, but she promptly brewed another pot of coffee and made it quite clear she was happier just to chat than worry too much about chores.

  Beth had seen many negroes in Liverpool, and even more since she arrived in America, but Pearl was the first she’d ever had a real conversation with. She was intelligent, witty and kind. Even her voice was a delight to listen to for it was low and melodious, with just a hint of the Deep South.

  But the most astonishing thing about her was her age. Her face was unlined, she moved gracefully and quickly despite her bulk, and Beth had imagined she was no more than forty. But if the stories she told were true, and Beth did believe them, then she was over sixty, and she laughingly told Beth that the reason she covered her head with a turban or a cap was because her hair was snow-white.

  She said she had been born into slavery in Mississippi, but she and her mother had run away when she was thirteen and been helped by some Abolitionists in Kansas.