ChapterOne ,Liverpool
‘StopplayingthatDevil’smusicandcomeandhelpme,’ AliceBoltonyelledangrilyfromthekitchen.
Fifteen-year-oldBethsmirkedathermother’sdescription ofherfiddleplayingandwastemptedtocontinuelouder andwilder.ButAlicehadbeenveryirritablerecentlyand waslikelytocomeinandsnatchthefiddle,soBethputit backintoitsbatteredcaseandlefttheparlourtodoasshe wasasked.
Shehadonlyjustreachedthekitchenwhenathud,quickly followedbythesoundofheavyobjectsfalling,camefrom theshopbelowtheirflat.
‘Whatonearthwasthat?’Aliceexclaimed,turninground fromthestovewiththeteapotinherhand.
‘IexpectPapaknockedsomethingover,’Bethreplied.
‘Well,don’tjuststandthere,goandsee,’hermother snapped.
Bethpausedonthelanding,lookingdownoverthebanistersontothestaircasewhichledtotheshop.Shecould hearsomethingrollingarounddownthere,buttherewasno soundofthecursingthatusuallyaccompaniedanyaccidents.
‘Areyouallright,Papa?’shecalledout.
Itwasdusk,andalthoughtheyhadn’tyetlitthegaslights upstairs,Bethwassurprisedtoseenoglowatthebottom ofthestairsfromthelightsintheshop.Herfatherwasa shoemaker,andasheneededgoodlightforcloseworkhe alwayslitthelampswellbeforedaylightbegantofade.
‘What’stheclumsyoafdonenow?’hermotherbellowed.
‘Tellhimtoleavehisworkfortonight.Supper’snearlyready anyway.’
ChurchStreet,oneofLiverpool’smainshoppingstreets, hadfewcartsorcarriagesuponitatsevenintheevening, soherfathershouldhaveheardhiswife’sinsultingremark clearly.Whenhedidn’trespondtoit,Beththoughthemust beoutintheprivyinthebackyard,andmaybeastraycat hadgotintotheshopandknockedsomethingover.The lasttimethishadhappenedthecontentsofagluepotran alloverthefloorandithadtakenhourstocleanupthe mess,sosherandownquicklytocheck.
Herfatherwasn’tintheprivyasthedoorouttotheyard wasboltedontheinside,andwhenshewentintotheshop shefounditinsemi-darknessastheblindshadbeenpulled down.
‘Whereareyou,Papa?’shecalledout.‘Whatwasallthe noiseabout?’
Therewasnosignofacat,orindeedanythingoutof place.Thestreetdoorwaslockedandbolted;furthermore, he’dsweptthefloor,tidiedhisworkbenchandhunghis leatherapronuponthepegjustashedideveryevening.
Puzzled,Bethturnedandlookedtowardsthestoreroom whereherfatherkepthissuppliesofleather,patternsand otherequipment.Hehadtobeinthere,butshecouldn’t imaginehowhecouldseeanythingwiththedoorshutfor eveninbrightdaylightitwasgloomy.
Astrangesenseofforebodingmadeherskinprickleand shewishedherbrotherSamwashome.Buthehadgone outtodeliversomebootsforacustomerafewmilesaway, sohewouldn’tbebackforsometime.Shedidn’tdarecall hermotherforfearofgettingacloutforbeing‘fanciful’, theexpressionAlicealwaysusedwhensheconsideredBeth wasoverreacting.Butthenhermotherfeltthatafifteen-
year-oldshouldhavenothingmoreonhermindthan improvinghersewing,cookingandotherdomesticskills.
‘Papa!’Bethcalledoutassheturnedthestoreroomdoor knob.‘Areyouinthere?’Thedooronlyopenedacrack,as ifsomethingwasbehindit,sosheputhershouldertoitand pushed.Shecouldhearascrapeontheflagstonefloor, maybeachairorboxintheway,soshepushedharderuntil itopenedenoughtoseeroundit.Itwasfartoodarkto makeanythingout,butsheknewherfatherwasinside,for shecouldsmellhisfamiliarodour,amixtureofglue,leather andpipetobacco.
‘Papa!Whateverareyoudoing?It’spitchdark,’she exclaimed,butevenasshespokeitstruckherthathemight havebeenknockedoutbysomethingfallingonhim.In panicsherushedbackacrosstheshoptolightthegas.Even beforetheflameroseenoughtoilluminatetheglassmantle andbathetheshopingoldenlight,shewasbackatthe storeroom.
Forasecondortwoshethoughtshewasseeingalarge sackofleatherinfrontofthestoreroomwindow,butasthe shoplightgrewbrighter,shesawitwasnosack,butherfather. Hewassuspendedfromoneofthehooksontheceiling, witharopearoundhisneck.
Shescreamedinvoluntarilyandbackedawayinhorror. Hisheadwaslollingtooneside,eyesbulging,andhismouth waswideopeninasilentscream.Helookedlikeahideous giantpuppet.
Itwasalltooclearnowwhatthesoundthey’dheard earlierhadbeen.Ashe’dkickedawaythechairhe’dbeen standingon,ithadknockedaboxofoddments,tinsofshoe polishandbottlesofleatherdye,ontothefloor.
ItwasearlyMay,andjustafewhoursagoBethhadbeen grumblingtoherselfasshewalkedtothelibrarybecause
herfatherwouldn’tallowhertogetajob.Shehadfinished withschoolthepreviousyear,butheinsisteddaughtersof ‘gentlefolk’stayedathomehelpingtheirmothersuntilthey married.
Sam,herbrotherandseniorbyoneyear,wasalsodisgruntledbecausehewasapprenticedtotheirfather.What Samwantedwastobeasailor,astevedore,awelder,orto doalmostanyjobwherehecouldbeoutsideinthefresh airandhavethecompanyofotherlads.
ButPapawouldpointoutthesignabovethedoorsaying ‘BoltonandSon,BootandShoemaker’,andheexpected Samtobejustasproudnowtobethat‘Son’ashehimself hadbeenwhenhisfatherhadthesignmade.
Yethoweverfrustratingitwastohavetheirlivesplanned outforthem,bothBethandSamunderstoodtheirfather’s reasons.HisparentshadfledfromIrelandtoLiverpoolin toescapeslowstarvationduringthepotatofamine. ForyearstheylivedinadankcellarinMaiden’sGreen,one ofthemanynotorious,squalidslum‘courts’thatabounded inthecity.Frank,SamandBeth’sfather,hadbeenborn thereayearlater,andhisearliestrecollectionswereofhis fathergoingfromdoortodoorinthebetterpartsofLiverpoolwithhislittlecarttofindshoesandbootstomend,and hismothergoingouteachdaytoworkasawasherwoman.
BythetimeFrankwassevenhewashelpingbothhis parentsbycollectinganddeliveringbootsforhisfatheror turningthehandleofthemangleforhismother.Itwas impressedonhim,evenwhenhewashungry,coldandtired, thattheonlywayoutofpovertywastoworkharduntilthey hadsavedenoughmoneytogetalittlecobbler’sshopof theirown.
Alice,SamandBeth’smother,hadanequallytoughchildhood,forshehadbeenabandonedasababyandbrought
upintheFoundlingHome.Attwelveshewassentoutto beascullerymaid,andthestoriesshetoldoftheexhausting workandthecrueltyofthecookandhousekeeperwerethe stuff ofnightmarestoBeth.
Frankwastwenty-threewhenhemetsixteen-year-old Alice,bywhichtimeheandhisparentshadachievedtheir goalandhadatinyshopwithtwosmallroomsabove.Alice hadoftensaidwithasmilethatherweddingdaywasthe happiestdayofherlifebecauseFranktookhertolivewith hisparents.Shestillhadtoworkjustashard,butshedidn’t mindthat,forthepurposewastogetevenbetterpremises whereherfather-in-lawandhusbandcouldmakeshoes insteadofjustrepairingoldones.
Thehardworkfinallypaidoff andbroughtthemhereto ChurchStreet,withtwofloorsabovetheshop,whereboth SamandBethwereborn.Bethcouldn’trememberher grandmother,asshe’dbeenonlyababywhenshedied,but shehadadoredhergrandfatheranditwashewhotaught hertoplaythefiddle.
SinceGrandfather’sdeathfiveyearsago,Papa’sshoemakingskillshadbecomewellknownandnowhemade shoesandbootsforsomeofthewealthiestpeopleinLiverpool.Hestillworkedextremelyhard,fromfirstlightuntil dusk,andmostnightshefellasleepthemomenthehad eatenhissupper,butuntiltonightBethhadalwaysthought hewasaveryhappyman.
‘Whatonearthisgoingondownthere?Iheardyouscream,’ hermothercalledpeevishlyfromthetopofthestairs.‘Isit aratagain?’
Bethwasbroughtupwithastart.Appalledandterrified asshewas,herinstinctwastoprotecthermother.
‘Don’tcomedown,’shecalledback.‘I’llgetMrCraven.’
‘Youcan’tdisturbneighbourswhenthey’rehavingtheir supper.Surelyyourfathercandealwithit?’
Bethdidn’tknowhowtoanswerthat,soshewenttothe stairsandlookedupathermother,hopingsomethingwould cometoher.
AliceBoltonwasthirty-eightbutlookedfaryoungerfor shewastiny,withblondehair,wide,paleblueeyesandthe kindofdelicatefeaturesandcomplexionthatsuggested frailty.
Samhadinheritedherblondehairandblueeyes,buthe wasnearlysixfeettall,withhisfather’svigourandstrong features.ItwassaidthatBethwasadoubleofherIrish grandmother,withhercurlyblackhair,darkblueeyesandan impertinentmannerthatwouldgetherintotroubleoneday.
‘Forgoodness’sakedon’tstandtherelookingsogormless,’Alicesnapped.‘Justtellyourfathertocomenowor thesupper’llberuined.’
Bethgulped,alltooawarethatliesandattemptedsmoke screenswouldn’thelpinsomethinglikethis.‘Hecan’tcome, Mama,’sheblurtedout.‘He’sdead.’
Hermothernevergraspedanythingquickly.Thistime wasnoexception;shejuststaredatBethblankly.
‘He’shangedhimself,Mama,’Bethsaid,fightingback tearsandmountinghysteria.‘That’swhyIwantedtoget MrCraven.Yougobackupintothekitchen.’
‘Hecan’tpossiblybedead.Hewasfinewhenhecame upforhistea.’
Bethwascontrollingthedesiretoscreamtheplacedown, andhermother’sdisbeliefalmostmadeherlosethatcontrol. Yetitwastruewhathermothersaid,herfather had appeared perfectlynormalatteatime.He’dremarkedonhowgood theseedcakewas,andhe’dtoldthemthathe’dfinishedthe bootshewasmakingforMrGreville.
Itdidn’tseempossiblethathe’dgonebackdownstairs, finishedhisworkfortheday,tidiedhisbenchandthen calmlytakenhisownlifeknowinghiswifeanddaughter werejustupstairs.
‘He is dead,Mama.He’shangedhimselfinthestoreroom,’ Bethsaidbluntly.
Hermothershookherheadandstarteddownthestairs. ‘You’reawickedgirltosaysuchathing,’shesaidindignantly, brushingBethasideasshegottothebottom.‘I’lldealwith youlater.’
Bethcaughtholdofherarmsandtriedtopreventher fromgoingintotheshop.‘Youmustn’tgointhere,Mama,’ shebegged.‘It’shorrible.’
Buthermotherwouldn’tbedeterred;shethrustBeth aside,rushedovertothestoreroomandwrenchedthedoor open.Herscreamwhenshesawherhusbandreverberated throughthewholebuilding.Butthescreamwasshutoff abruptlyassheslumpedtothefloorinafaint.
AnhourlaterSamarrivedhometofindtheshopwasnot indarknessashe’dexpected.Throughthewindowhesaw rotundDrGillespieandburlyMrCraven,theirneighbour, butevenbeforetheyopenedthedoortohim,heknew somethingwasseriouslywrong.
ItwasthedoctorwhoexplainedthatBethhadruntoMr Cravenwhenhermothercollapsed.MrCravensenthisson tofetchthedoctor,andcamebackwithBethtocutPapa’s bodydown.WhenGillespiearrivedhehadtoldBethtotake hermotherupstairs,givehersomebrandyandputherto bed.
Samwasatall,lankyboyofsixteen.Heswayedonhis feetatthenews,thecolourdrainingfromhisfaceandthe shockofitalmostmakinghimcollapsetoo.Hisfather’s
bodywasonthefloor,coveredinablanket,allexceptfor onehandwhichwasstainedbrownwithleatherdye.Ifit hadn’tbeenforthathandSammighthaverefusedtobelieve whatthementoldhim,butFrank’shandwasasfamiliarto himashisown.
Heaskedwhyhisfatherhaddonesuchathing,butthey couldn’ttellhim.MrCravenscratchedhisheadandsaidit wasamysterytohimasonlythatmorninghe’ddropped intotheshopforachat,andFrankhadbeeningoodspirits. DrGillespiewasequallybaffledandspokeofhowwell respectedinthecommunityFrankwas.Itwasclearboth menwereashorrifiedandshockedasSam.
ThedoctorcaughtholdofbothSam’sarms,lookingright intohiseyes.‘Themortuarycartwillbeheresoon,’hesaid gently.‘Therehastobeaninquestinsituationslikethis. Youmustbethemanofthehousenow,Sam,andtakecare ofyourmotherandsister.’
Samfeltasifatrapdoorhadopenedbeneathhisfeetand hehadfallenintoaplacehedidn’trecognize.Forasfar backashecouldremember,therehadalwaysbeenorder andabsolutecertaintyinhislife.Hehadoftenbaulkedat thedullnessofthedailyroutine,withhisfatherworkingin theshopfromseveninthemorningtilllateintheevening, andhismothercookingandcleaningupstairs.Yethehad alwaysfeltsafeintheknowledgethatifhedidfallflatonhis facewhileseekingoutamoreadventurouslifeforhimself, everythingwouldremainthesamehereandhecouldcome backtoit.
Butatastrokeallthatpreciouscertaintywasgone. Howcouldsuchamild-mannered,thoughtfulandkindheartedmanhavesuchdemonslurkinginsidehim?And whydidn’tthoseclosesttohimevercatchaglimpseof
them?JustthatmorningSamhadwatchedhisfathergoto thefootofthestairsandlistenwhileBethwasplayingher fiddle.Hemadenocomment,buthisfacehadbeenalight withprideinhertalent.Later,whenSamhadfinished repairingapairofboots,Frankhadclappedhimonthe shoulderandpraisedhiswork.
TimeandagainbothheandBethhadwitnessedthe lovingwaytheirfatherlookedattheirmother,seenhim holdingherandkissingher.Iftheyallmeantthatmuchto him,whydidhewanttoleavethem?
Andwhatwouldhappentothefamilynow,withoutthe manwhohadbeentheirprovider,theirrockandcomforter?
ChapterTwo
Thegrandfatherclockonthelandingstruckmidnightbut SamandBethwerestillinthekitchen,toostunnedand upsettoeventhinkofgoingtobed.Theirfather’sbodyhad beentakenawayhoursago,andSamheldBeth’shandstightly asonceagainshewentoverhowshe’dfoundtheirfather. Fromtimetotimehewouldwipethetearsawayfromher cheekswithhishandkerchief,andsmoothherhaircomfortingly.Likewise,whenSambecameoverwroughtandhisvoice roseinanger,Bethwouldreachouttocaresshischeek.
DrGillespiehadgiventheirmotheradraughttomake hersleepbecauseshe’dbeenhysterical,pullingatherhair andscreamingthatsomeoneelsemusthavestrungFrank up,forhewouldneverhavechosentoleaveher.Whileboth childrenknewitwasimpossibleforanyoneelsetohavehad ahandintonight’swork,theysharedhersentiments.Their parentshadbeenlovingandhappy.
‘Thedoctoraskedmeifthebusinesswasindifficulties,’ Samsaid,hisvoicestrainedwithbewilderment.‘Butit wasn’t.Ican’teventhinkofanythingunusualhappeningin thepastweeksthatmightaccountforit.’
‘Couldithavebeenacustomerwhoupsethim?’Beth asked.
Thereweredifficultandunpleasantcustomerssometimes. TheycomplainedifFathercouldn’tmaketheirshoesor bootsasquicklyastheywantedthem,andoftenwhenthey arrivedtopickthemuptheytriedtofindfaultwithhis workmanshipsotheycouldbeathimdowninprice.
‘Hewouldhavesaid.Anyway,youknowhetookallthat inhisstride.’
‘Youdon’tthinkitwasus,doyou?’Bethaskedanxiously. ‘MecomplainingthatIwasboredathome,andyoualways slippingoff tothedocks?’
Samshookhishead.‘Idon’tthinkso.Iheardhimlaughingaboutmeoncewithacustomer.HesaidIwasagood lad,evenifmyheadwasintheclouds.Andyoucertainly hadn’tupsethim;hewasproudofyou.’
‘Buthowarewegoingtolivenow?’Bethasked.‘You aren’texperiencedenoughtokeeptheshopgoing!’
ItwasoftenremarkedonhowdifferentBethandSam were.Notjusttheirlooks,onetallandblond,theother smallanddark–theirnatureswerequitedifferenttoo.
Sam’sheadwasalwaysintheclouds,livinginadream worldoffantasticadventures,richesandexoticplaces.One dayhecouldbewastingtimedownbythedocksgazing wistfullyattheocean-goingships;anotherhecouldbe peeringthroughgatesofbighouses,marvellingattheway thewealthylived.Althoughhehadneveradmitteditto Beth,sheknewtherealreasonhedidn’twanttobeacobbler orshoemakerwasbecausenoonebecamerichorhad adventuresthatway.
Bethwasfarmorepracticalandlogicalthanherbrother, thoroughanddiligentwhenshewasgivenatasktodo.She hadsharperwits,andreadbookstogainknowledgerather thantoescapereality.YetshecouldunderstandwhySam livedinafantasyworld,becauseshehadherfantasytoo,of playingherfiddletoahugeaudienceandhearingrapturous applause.
Itwasofcourseanunattainabledream.Evenifshehad beentaughttoplayclassicalviolin,she’dneverseenafemale violinistinanorchestra.Sheplayedjigsandreels,tunes
passeddownfromhergrandfather,andmostpeopleconsideredthatwasgypsymusic,suitableonlyforentertainment inrowdyalehouses.
YetforallthedifferencesbetweenBethandSam,they wereveryclose.Withonlyayearbetweenthem,andhaving neverbeenallowedtoplayinthestreetlikeotherchildren intheneighbourhood,they’dalwaysreliedoneachother forcompanionship.
SamgotupfromhischairandkneltbesideBeth,putting hisarmsaroundher.‘I’lltakecareofbothofyou,somehow,’ hesaidwithabreakinhisvoice.
Inthedaysthatfollowed,Beth’semotionssee-sawedbetweenoverwhelminggriefandrage.Shehadneverknown onedaywithoutherfather;hehadbeenasconstantasthe grandfatherclockchimingawaythehours.Awiryman offorty-fivewiththinninggreyhair,acarefullytrimmed moustacheandaratherprominentnose,hewasalways cheeryand,shethought,transparent.
Hemightnothavebeenoverlydemonstrative–apaton theshoulderwashiswayofshowingaffectionandapproval –buthehadneverbeenadistantfigurelikesomanyfathers were.Helikedhertocomedowntotheshopandchatwhile hewasworking;hehadalwaysbeeninterestedinwhatshe wasreading,andhermusic.
Butnowshefeltshehadn’treallyknownhim.Howcould hecomeuptothekitchenforhisteaandsitwithhiswife anddaughterwhileallthetimehewasintendingtogoback downstairs,finishhisworkandthenhanghimself?
Hehadtalkedaboutapairofbuttonedbootsaladyhad orderedjustthatmorning,laughingaboutherbecauseshe wantedpaleblueonestomatchanewdress.Hesaidthey wouldn’tstaylookinggoodforlonginLiverpool’sdirty
streets.Whywouldhesaythatifheknewhewasnever goingtomakethem?
Ifhehaddiedofaheartattack,orbeenrunoverbya carriagewhilecrossingthestreet,itwouldhavebeenterrible, andthepaintheyallfeltnowwouldhavebeenjustas agonizing,butatleastnoneofthemwouldhavefelt betrayed.
Theirmotherwouldn’tstopcrying.Shejustlayinher bed,refusingtoeatoreventoallowthemtoopenthe curtains,andSamwaslikeabewilderedlostsoul,convinced itwashisfaultbecausehe’dbeenlessthanenthusiastic aboutbeingashoemaker.
Onlyafewneighbourshadcalledtooffercondolences, andBethfelttheirrealmotivewasnotrealsympathybutto gathermoreinformationtobandyaround.FatherReillyhad called,butalthoughhe’dbeenkindly,he’dbeenquick enoughtosayFrankBoltoncouldn’tbeburiedonhallowed groundasitwasagrievoussinforamantotakehisown life.
Theresultoftheinquestwouldbeinthenewspapers, andalltheirfriendsandneighbourswouldreaditandshun themafterwards.Shethoughtitwascruelandcowardlyfor herfathertohavedonethistothemall.Andshedidn’t thinkhermotherwouldeverwanttogooutofthehouse again.
Fivedaysafterherfather’sdeath,Bethwasintheparlour makingblackdressesforherselfandhermother.Outside thesunwasshining,butshehadtokeeptheblindsclosed aswasthecustom,andthelightwassodimshewasfinding ithardeventothreadtheneedle.
Bethhadalwaysenjoyedsewing,butashermother wouldn’trouseherselftohelp,she’dhadnochoicebutto
digoutthepatterns,cutthematerialontheparlourtable andsewthedressesalone,fortheywouldbedisgraced furtherwithoutpropermourningclothes.
Shewouldgiveanythingtobeabletogetoutherfiddle andplayassheknewshecouldloseherselfinmusicand perhapsfindsomesolace.Butplayingamusicalinstrument sosoonafterabereavementwasn’tseemly.
InirritationBeththrewdownhersewingandwentover tothewindowwhereshedrewbacktheblindjustaninch ortwotopeepoutandwatchtheactivityonChurchStreet.
Asalways,itwascrowdedwithpeople.Theomnibuses, cabs,cartsandcarriagescreatedpilesofhorsedroppings, andthesmellwasmorepungentthanusualtodaybecause ofthewarmsunshine.Ladiesofqualityinelegantfrocks andprettyhatsstrolledarm-in-armwithgentlemeninhigh wingcollarsandtophats.Therewerematronlyhousekeepersinseveredarkclothescarryingbasketsoffruitand vegetables,andhereandthereyounggirls,perhapsmaids ontheirafternoonoff,dreamilylookinginshopwindows.
Buttherewereplentyofpoorpeopletoo.Aone-legged manoncrutcheswasbeggingoutsideBunney’s,theshopon thecrossroadswhichwasgenerallyknownasHolyCorner becauseLordStreet,Paradise,ChapelandChurchStreets allmetthere.Worn-lookingwomenheldbabiesintheir arms,smallerchildrentaggingalongbehind;tousle-haired streeturchinswithdirtyfacesandbarefeetloitered,perhaps onthelookoutforanythingtheycouldsteal.
Therewasaqueueatthebutcher’sopposite,andbecause ofthewarmsunshinethewomenlookedrelaxedandunhurried,chattingtooneanotherastheywaitedtobeserved.
ButasBethwatchedthem,shesawtwowomenturnandlook straightupatthewindowsabovetheshop,andsherealized they’djustbeentoldthattheshoemakerhadhangedhimself.
Tearswelledupinhereyes,forsheknewthatthegossip wouldgainevenmoremomentumafterthefuneral.People couldbesocruel,alwaysdelightinginothers’misfortunes. ShecouldimaginethemsayingthattheBoltonshadalways thoughtthemselvesacutaboveeveryoneelse,andnodoubt Frankhadkilledhimselfbecausehewasindebt.Bethalmost wishedthatwasthereason;atleastitwouldbeunderstandable.
Turningawayfromthewindow,shelookedaroundthe parlour.Itwashermother’sprideandjoy;everything,from thepatternedsquareofcarpetandthechinadogssitting eithersideofthefireplacetothestiff,uncomfortablebuttonbackedarmchairsandtheheavytapestrycurtains,were copiesofthingsAlicehadseeninthebighousewhenshe wasascullerymaid.
Wantingapianowaspartofit,andithadtobehauled upthroughthewindowbysixmen.Neitherofherparents couldplaytheinstrument,buttohermotheritwasasign ofrefinement,soBethhadtolearn.Shehadnodoubther motherhopeditwouldweanheroff thefiddle,aninstrument shesawas‘common’.
AlthoughBethoftenfelthurtbyhermother’sattitudeto herbelovedfiddle,shewasverygladwhenshefoundMiss Clarksontogiveherlessonsonthepiano.Shemighthave beenathirty-year-oldspinster,withgreyhairandacastin oneeye,butshewasaninspiringwoman.Shenotonlytaught Bethtoreadmusicandplaythepianobutsheintroducedher toawholenewworldofbooks,musicandideas.
ForfiveyearsMissClarksonwasherally,friend,confidanteandteacher.ShelovedtohearBethplayherfiddleas wellasthepiano,shewouldbringbookswithhershe thoughtBethshouldread,shetaughtheraboutallkindsof musicandsometimestookhertoconcertstoo.Yetwhat
Bethlikedbestaboutherwasthatshedidn’thavethesame narrowoutlookashermother.MissClarksonfeltstrongly thatwomenshouldhaveequalrightstomen,bethatto vote,tohaveagoodeducationortoworkatanythingthey pleased.
BethwishedMissClarksonwasstillinLiverpoolnow becauseshewastheonepersonwhomighthavebeenable tohelpherandSamunderstandwhytheirfatherhaddone suchaterriblething.ButshehademigratedtoAmerica becauseshesaidshefeltstifledbythehypocrisy,classsystem andlackofopportunitiesforwomeninEngland.
‘Ishallmissyou,Beth,’shetoldherwitharesignedsmile whentheysaidtheirlastgoodbyes.‘Notjustbecauseyou aremymostaccomplishedpupil,butbecauseyouhavea livelymind,astoutheartandboundlessenthusiasm.Promise meyouwon’tmarrythefirstsuitablemanwhoasksyou, justsoyoucanhaveahomeofyourown.Marriagemaybe consideredbymosttobeaholystate,butnotifyoupick thewrongman.Andkeepupyourmusic,foritliftsthe spiritandallowsyouthefreedomofexpressionagirllike youneeds.’
BethhadfoundMissClarksonwasrightaboutthemusic. Ittransportedhertoaplacewherehermother’srepeated instructionsonmundanedomesticmatterscouldn’treach her,aworldwherefun,freedomandexcitementweren’t frownedupon.
Sadly,sheknewMamahadneverunderstoodthat.She hadalwayslikedtoboasttotheneighboursofherdaughter’s talent,butshedidn’tactuallylistentoherplayingthepiano andsheresentedthefiddle.Papahadlistenedandliked nothingbetterthantositandhearherplaythepianoona Sundayevening–Chopinwashisfavourite–yethealso enjoyeditwhensheplayedandsangpopularmusic-hall
songs.Evenforhim,though,thefiddlehadbeenaslight boneofcontention,perhapsbecauseitwasareminderof hischildhoodandhefearedthewildIrishjigshisfatherhad taughtBethtoplaywoulddrawherintobadcompany.
HearingSamcomingupthestairs,Bethbegansewing again.SheheardhimgointoseeMamainherroomdown besidethekitchen,andafewminuteslaterhecameintothe parlour.
Helookedpaleanddrawn,hisbrowknittedinafrown. ‘TheCoronerisreleasingPapa’sbodytomorrow,’hesaid wearily.‘Hedidn’tfindanythingtoexplainwhyhedidit, hewasn’tsick.Butatleastwecanburyhimnow.’
‘DidyoutellMama?’Bethasked.
Samnoddeddespondently.‘Shewascryingstill.Idon’t thinkshe’severgoingtostop.’
‘Maybeshewillafterthefuneral,’Bethsaidwithmore optimismthanshefelt.‘Imustfitthisdressonhersoon. Ihopeshewon’tmakeanotherscene.’
‘IsawMrsCravenoutside.Shesaidshe’llcomeround laterandtrytotalktoher;maybeitwillbebestifyoutry thedressthen.HoweverbadMamafeels,shewon’twanta neighbourknowingshe’sleavingeverythingtous.’
Bethheardthebitternessinhisvoiceandgotuptoput herarmsaroundhim.Hehadbeenintheshopfromfirst lighttillduskmostdays,finishingupalltherepairs,andshe knewhowfrightenedandworriedhewas.‘Yousaidwe’d managethenightithappened,andwewill,’shesaid.
‘I’vegotafeelingMamaknowswhyhedidit,’Samsaid inalowvoice,leaninghischinonherheadassheheldhim. ‘I’vegonethroughtheaccountsandalthoughthereisn’t verymuchmoney,hewasn’tintrouble.Heneverwentout, sohewasn’tdrinkingorgambling,andhecertainlydidn’thave anotherwoman.Itcanonlybesomethingtodowithher.’
‘Don’tthinkthat,Sam,’Bethbeggedhim.‘Itwon’thelp puttingtheblameonMama.’
Samcaughtholdofherarmstightlyandlookedrightinto hereyes.‘Don’tyourealizeeverythingisgoingtobedifferent fromnowon?’hesaidfiercely.‘Wearegoingtobepoor.I wishIcouldpromiseyouthatIcouldkeeptheshopgoing, butallIcandoisrepairs.I’mnotskilledenoughtomake bootsandshoes,andthatwaswhatPapamadethemoney on.I’mgoingtohavetogetanotherjob,butthatwon’tpay enoughtokeepallthreeofus.’
‘Icangetonetoo,’Bethsaideagerly.‘Wewillmanage, Sam.’
Helookedatherdoubtfully.‘Itmaycomethatwehave tofindacheaperplacetolive,ortakeinalodger.Wewon’t beabletolivethewaywe’vebeenusedto.’
AngerflaredupinsideBethagain.Allherlifeshe’dheard PapatellingherthathewantedherandSamtohaveallthe advantageshe’dneverhad.He’dmadeherbelievethatthey weregentlefolk,acutabovemostoftheirneighbours.But he’dshamedandruinedthemwithoutevenanexplanation astowhy.
ChapterThree
AsBethlaidthetablefortheeveningmealshewatched hermotherstirringapotofstewonthestove.Asusualshe wasinherownprivateworld,barelyawareeventhather daughterwasintheroomwithher.
Threemonthshadpassedsinceshewaswidowed,but thiswashowshehadremained.Whileshedidthewashing, cookingandcleaninginmuchthesamewayshealwayshad, sheonlyspokewhenaskedadirectquestion,andshetook nointerestinanyoneoranything.
MrsCraven,theirkindlyneighbourwhohadbeenso supportiveatthetimeoftheirfather’sdeath,hadsaidthat BethandSamshouldbepatientwithher,forgriefaffected peopleinmanydifferentwaysandtheirmotherwouldcome outofthissilencewhenshewasready.Butamonthago evenMrsCravenlostherpatiencewhenMamatoldherto goawaywhenshe’dcalledround.
‘’Erfacewasascoldasamarbleheadstone!Fairgaveme goosepimples,cositwaslikeshedidn’tknowme,’she reportedindignantlytoBeth.
ItseemedincredibletoBeththathermothercoulddismisstheonepersonwhohadbeenatruefriend.Butthen shedidn’tshowanyappreciationforallSamhaddonefor hereither.
Hehadtriedsohardtokeeptheshopgoing,butthe peoplewhousedtobringintheirbootsandshoestobe repairedstoppedcoming.Whetherthiswasbecauseofthe suicide,orbecausetheydidn’tthinkSamcoulddothejob,
wasn’tclear.SoSamrentedtheshopouttosomeoneelse. Mamamerelyshruggedwhenhetoldher.
Foradreamyandpreviouslyverylazylad,Beththought herbrotherhadprovedhimselftobearealmanbydealing somasterfullywithallthefamilyproblems.Withsomeone downstairspayingalmosttheentirerentforthebuilding, theyonlyhadtofindasmallbalancesotheycouldcontinue tostayintheflat.Samhadgothimselfapositionasajunior clerkwithashippingcompanyandhebroughthomeevery pennyheearnedtokeepthemall.Mamashouldbepraising himtotheskies,notjustignoringhim.
Butthenshehadn’tpraisedBetheitherwhenshefound apositionasanassistantinahosieryshop.Sheneverasked whatthehourswouldbeorhowmuchshewouldbepaid.
AwhileagoSamhadremarkedthatitwasasiftheir motherhadbeenreplacedbyasullenservant.Hesaidit jokingly,butthatwasexactlywhatitwaslike,forshemade andservedtheirmealswithoutaword.Shehadneverbeen agreatconversationalist,alittlegossipabouttheneighbours hadbeenherlimit,butshe’dalwaysbeenagoodlistener andwasawareofanylittlechangesineitherofthem,showingconcerniftheyfeltpoorlyorseemedsad.Shedidn’t noticenowwhethertheyweretiredorhadacold;shedidn’t evenmakearemarkabouttheweather.Iftheyaskedher whatshe’ddoneduringthedayshewouldreplywithone baldsentence:‘Ididthewashing’or‘Ichangedthebeds’. Bethwouldseetheinwardly,wantingtoscreamoutthatshe stillhadthemandthehomesheloved,whileherchildren’s worldhadbeenturnedupsidedown.Samwastiedtoadesk fortenhoursaday,atthebeckandcallofmenwhotreated himlikedirtontheirboots.Hecouldn’twanderoff tothe docksforanhourortwothewayheusedto;everypenny heearnedwasneeded.
MaybeBeth had wantedtoworkinashop,butshesoon foundthatworkinginHooley’sHosierywasn’tanythinglike shehadimagined.Sheandtheothershopassistantshadto lineupeachmorningforacheckthattheirnailswereclean andtheirbootspolished,andjustacoupleofstrandsofhair comingloosewasaseriousmisdemeanour.Customerswere oftenrude,butshehadtosmilesweetlyasiftheywere royalty.Shecouldn’tevengototheprivywithoutasking permission,andjusttalkingtoanotherassistantwastorisk beingfired.Shewasspiedonallthetime,therewerecountlesspettyrules,andshefoundbeingonherfeetallday exhausting.Theirmotherrarelywentout,soshedidn’tsee thesneersonpeople’sfacesoroverheartheircruelremarks.
SamandBethlivedwiththateveryday.
Butallthefeelingsofanxiety,resentmentandirritation thatBethhadfeltinthepastcoupleofmonthswereeclipsed todaybysomethingfarmoreserious.
Itwasearlyclosingday,andBethgothomesoonafterone. Sheintendedtohavesomethingtoeat,thentrytopersuade hermothertocomeoutwithherforawalkinthesunshine.
Thepeopletakingovertheshopweregoingtosellshoes, andduringthelastweekacarpenterhadbeenbuilding shelvesandacounter.AsBethcameinthroughtheback door,apainterwasworkingintheshopwiththedoorwide open.Heapologizedforthepaintfumesandsaidhehoped thatwasn’twhathadupsethermother,forhe’dheardher beingsickintheprivy.
BethwasnaturallyalarmedandranupstairstoseeMama. Butshedeniedtherewasanythingwrongandsaidthe painterwasmistaken.
Thepaintfumeswereverystrongintheirflat,buteven sohermotherrefusedtogooutwithBeth.SoBethhad somebreadandcheeseandwentoutalone.
Theyonlyusedthebackdoornow,butasshecameup ChurchStreettheshopdoorwaswideopen,sosheslippedin thatwaytosavegoingroundtheback.Itwasabouthalfpast three,andshepausedinthesmalllobbybythestairsupto theirflat,becausethroughtheopenbackdoorshecouldsee hermotherintheyardtakingthewashingoff theclothes-line.
ShewasstretchinguptoreachoneofSam’sshirts,and Bethwasshockedtoseethatherbellyhadgrownverybig.
Hermotherwasshortandshe’dalwaysbeenveryslender, infactherwaisthadbeensosmallthatherfatherusedto encircleitwithhistwohands.Threemonthsago,when Bethhadfittedhermourningdressonher,ithadstillbeen thesame.Butitwasn’tlikethatanymore.Shewaswearing alinenapronoverherblackdress,butthewaistbandofthe apronwaswellabovewhereitshouldhavebeen,andher swollenbellywasclearlydefined.
Bethwassoshockedshealmostcriedoutandalertedher motherthatshewaswatchingher.Itwasn’tanoverall fatnessforAlice’sfacehadgrownmuchthinnersinceshe waswidowed.Bethknewexactlywhatswollenbelliesmeant, evenifproperlybroughtupyoungladiesweren’tsupposed tobeawareofsuchthings.
ThatwasyetanothermatterMissClarksonhadexplained toBeth.Shesaiditwasabsurdtokeepyounggirlsin thedarkaboutsomethingsonatural,andignorancewas dangeroustooasmencouldtakeadvantageofit.SoBeth knewhowbabiesweremade.
Whileshehadfounditembarrassingtodiscoverthather parentshadcontinuedtoperformthatactaftershewas born,Beth’srealconcernnowwashowshewasgoingto broachsuchadelicatesubjectwithhermother.Butshe knewshemust,foriftherewasababyonthewayplans wouldneedtobemade.
Alittlelater,oncehermotherwasbackindoors,folding upthedrywashing,Bethstudiedher,hopingshewasmistaken,forwiththeaproninitsrightplaceAlice’sbellywasn’t obvious;shejustlookedabitthickeraroundthewaist.
Bethhadacupofteawhileshetriedtopluckupsome courage,forsheanticipatedhostility.Buttimewasgetting on,andonceSamgotbackherchancewouldbegone, forBethknewshecouldn’tdiscusspregnancywithamale present,notevenherownbrother.
Shetookadeepbreathandplungedrightin.‘Youare goingtohaveababy,aren’tyou,Mama?’
Bethwasn’tsurehowshefeltabouthavingababybrother orsister.Buthermother’sreactiontoherquestionmadeit quiteplainsheconsidereditacatastrophe.Herface crumpled,sheputherhandsoverherbellyasiftohideit andletoutawailofanguish.
Bethhadhalfexpectedtobetoldtomindherown business,butshecertainlyhadn’tanticipatedsuchadramatic reaction.‘IknowitmustseemawfulnowPapa’sgone,but SamandIwillhelpyou,’shesaidquickly,goingovertoher mother.Shedidn’ttrytoembraceher,forduringthelast threemonthswhenshe’dattemptedit,hermotherhad backedawayasifshe’dbeenscalded.
ButsurprisinglysheflungherselfatBeth,cryinglikea childagainsthershoulder.‘Ididn’tknowhowtotellyou,’ shesobbed.‘I’vebeensoafraidofwhatwasgoingtobecome ofus.’
Bethjustheldher,sorelievedthatatlasthermotherwas communicatingwithherthatanyotherconcernsseemed unimportant.‘There’snothingtoworryabout,’shesaid soothingly.‘We’vemanagedallrightsofar,andwecan manageababytoo.Maybeit’sjustwhatweneedtomake usallhappyagain.Doyouknowwhenitwillbeborn?’
‘December,Ithink,’Alicesaid,dabbinghereyeswith herapron.‘ButI’mtoooldtobehavinganotherbaby.It’s badenoughhavingtheshameofyourfathergoingtheway hedid–nowpeoplewillstarttalkingaboutusallover again.’
‘Youaren’ttooold,’Bethsaidfirmly.‘Andwhatdoesit matterwhatotherpeoplesay?It’snoneoftheirbusiness.’
Shemadeanotherpotoftea,andhermotherblewher noseandadmitteditwasarelieftohaveitoutintheopen. ‘I’vebehavedverybadlytoyoutwo,’sheadmitted.‘ButI wasthatworriedandfrightenedIcouldn’tthinkofanything else.What’sSamgoingtothink?’
‘Justthesameasme,thatwe’regoingtohaveababy brotherorsister,’Bethsaidcalmly.Shefeltrelievedthather mother’soddbehaviourhadfinallybeenexplained.‘Iknow everythinglooksabitdauntingnow,Mama,butitwillget better.Andyou’dbettermakefriendswithMrsCravenagain becauseyou’llneedherhelpwhenthebabycomes.’
MrsCraven,amonghermanytalents,hadsomethingof areputationofbeinganexcellentmidwife.
‘That’swhyItoldhertogoaway,Iwasthatscaredshe’d guess,’Aliceadmitted.‘ItwastoomuchformeafterFrank goingthewayhedid.’
Laterthateveningaftertheirmotherhadgonetobed,Beth andSamsatinthekitchentalking.Samhadlookedhorrified whenBethtookhimtoonesideearlierand,withagreat dealofembarrassment,toldhimthenews.Hewhispered thatthiswasthelastthingtheyallneeded,buthedidhave thediplomacynottoshowhisfeelingstotheirmother.
Nowtheywerealoneandhe’dhadtimetothinkabout it,hehadsoftenedalittle.‘Ican’tsayIrelishthethought ofasquallingbrataroundtheplace,’headmitted.‘Butat
leastitexplainswhatwaswrongwithMama.Ithoughtshe mightendupinanasylum.’
‘Itmusthavebeenveryfrighteningforher,’Bethsaid. ‘Especiallyasherownmothermusthavehadherwithouta husband,orshewouldn’thaveabandonedher.Thatplace shegrewupinwasattachedtoaworkhouse.Iexpectshe wasafraidthatwaswhereshe’dendup.’
‘I’dneverletthathappen,’Samsaidstoutly.‘Butitwill tieus.’
‘Whateverdoyoumean?’Bethasked.
Hepursedhislipsandfrowned.‘Padidn’tleavemuch, andmostofthatwaseatenupwiththeburialexpensesand justlivinguntilIgotwork.Ourjointwagesareonlyjust enoughtoscrapebyon.ButI’dhopedthatintimeMama wouldmarryagainandwe’dbothbefree.’
Bethhadneverimaginedhermotherremarrying,andshe saidso.
‘Well,you’dbetterstarthopingforit,’hesaidwithatinge ofsarcasm.‘Ifyoumeetsomechapwhowantstomarry you,hewon’twanttobesaddledwithyourmotherandher babytoo.AndIhadn’tplannedonstayingputhereforever either.Iwanttoseetheworld.’
Bethwantedtoreproachhimforbeingselfish,butshe couldn’tbecausesheknewhewouldn’treallyrunouton them.‘Let’snotworryaboutthefutureforthetimebeing,’ shesuggested.‘Somethingwillturnup,you’llsee.’
Itwasalong,hotsummer,themilkturningsourbymidmorning,priviesanddrainsstinkingtohighheaven,leaves ontreesdroopinglistlesslywithacoatingofdust.Thecity didn’tevenbecomequietoncedarknessfellbecauseitwas toohotforanyonetosleep.Babiescried,dogsbarked, childrenplayedinthestreetstillallhours,andtherewere
moredrunkenbrawlsoutsidethepublichousesthanusual.
BethfoundeachdayinHooley’sHosieryatrialofendurance.Bymiddaytheshopwindowsgotthefullblastfrom thesun,andinsidethetemperaturesoaredtooverninety degrees.Customersweretetchyandoftenveryrudeasthey gothertoopendrawerafterdrawerofsocksorstockings. Bethfrequentlyhadtobitehertonguetopreventherself answeringback.Inahigh-neckedblackdress,withpetticoats beneath,shewassweltering,herfeetswelledandached,and sheoftenwonderedwhyshe’doncethoughtitwouldbe marvelloustohaveajob.
Samfaredbetterathiswork,fortheclerks’officeoverlookedthesea,andwiththewindowswideopentherewas acoolingbreeze.Butwithastiff wingcollarandajacket,he toooftenadmittedtonoddingoff intheheatorgazing longinglyattheshipsoutatsea,wishinghewasonone.
Buttheirmotherwassufferingevenmore.Shehadno appetite,shefeltfaintintheheat,andheranklesandlegs weresoswollenbymid-afternoonthatshecouldn’twalk. ItalarmedBethtoseehowthinandgauntherfacewas becoming,yetherbellyseemedtogrowlargereachday.
ThehotweatherfinallybrokeattheendofSeptember, whenitrainedalmostconstantlyfortwoweeks.Atlonglast theycouldsleepatnightsagain,thestreetswerewashed clean,andtheirmotherbegantoeatalittlemore.
AlicehadapologizedtoMrsCravenforherrudeness,and theneighbourwaskindenoughtopopineverydayand helpwithafewoftheheavierchores.Togetherthetwo womenhaddugoutastoredboxofbabyclothesthathad beenbothSam’sandBeth’s,andanotherneighbourlent themacradle.
Winterdidn’tsetinuntiltheendofNovember,butwhen itcameitwaswithhighwindsandbittercold.Inthesecond
weekofDecember,whenitwassnowing,Betharrivedhome ontheFridayeveningtofindMrsCraveninthekitchen, fillingupabigpanwithwatertoheatuponthestove.
‘Shestartedaroundmidday,’thewomanexplained.‘It wasluckyIcalledinonthewaybackfromthemarket.I wantyoutogoandgetDrGillespietocomeandtakea lookather.’
Bethwasimmediatelyalarmed,butMrsCravengaveher areassuringhug.‘It’sjustaprecaution,’sheinsisted.
ItwasthefirsttimeBethhadseenthedoctorsince thenightherfatherhangedhimself,andshefeltacutely embarrassedabouthavingtotellhimwhysheneededhim now.
‘Havingababy!’heexclaimed,hisroundredfacebreaking intoawidesmile.‘Whatasurprise!Andhowareyouand yourbrotherdoing?Itmusthavebeenhardonyouthese pastmonths.’
‘We’remanagingfine,doctor,’Bethsaid.Hissmileof pleasuremadeherfeelalittlelessanxious,andhisinterest inherandSamwascomforting.‘Ofcourse,thebabywasa bitofashocktoallofus.ButMrsCravensaidshewanted youtocallroundjustasaprecaution.’
Butitwasn’tjustaprecaution,Bethrealizedlater,asshe stoodatthebedroomdoorlisteningtowhatthedoctorwas sayingtoMrsCraven.‘She’saverysmallwomanandthe babyisbig.MrsBoltonisn’tyoungeither,norisshevery strong.I’llleaveherinyourcapablehandsfornow,Mrs Craven,butdon’thesitatetocallmeagainlaterifyouhave anyconcerns.’
Beth’sheartbegantohammerwithfright,andasthe eveningprogressedandsheheardMamashriekingwithpain, shegrewterrified.Itdidn’thelpthatSamhadn’tcomehome. TherewasjustMrsCraven,andshewouldn’tallowBeth
intothebedroom.‘I’llcallyouifIneedhelportogetthe doctoragain,’shesaidfirmly.‘Babiescansometimestakean agetocome,butdon’tworryyourselfaboutthescreaming–mostwomendothat,itdon’tmeanmuch.’
Samarrivedbacksoonafterten,justintimeforMrs Craventosendhimoutagainforthedoctor,andthough shewouldn’tbedrawnonwhysheneededhim,Bethcould seeanxietyetchedintoherbigface.
DrGillespiecamebackwithSam,andonceagaindisappearedintothebedroomforsometime.
AroundtwelveGillespiecamebackintothekitchenand askedforabowlofhotwatertowashhishands.Hehad alreadytakenoff hisjacketandrolleduphisshirtsleeves, andashescrubbedathishandsandforearmsheglanced overhisshoulderatSamandBeth.
‘I’vegottogetthebabyoutquickly,’hesaid.‘Pleaseget memorecleanlinenandtowels.Icanseeyouareboth frightened,buttrynottoworry–yourmotherwillbeall right.’
Bethrushedtogetthelinen,andthedoctortookitback intothebedroomwithhim,closingthedoorbehindhim. Mama’smoaningstoppedsoonafterwardsandSamsaidthe doctormusthavegivenherether.
Itwasveryquietnow.Outsidesnowwasstillfalling, deadeningthesoundoflate-nightcarriagesinthestreet. Theonlysoundinsidewastheoccasionalcoughormuffled instructionfromthedoctortoMrsCraven,andthecoal splutteringandshiftinginthestove.
SamandBethdidn’tspeak.Theyjustsatoneitherside ofthekitchentable,white-facedandanxious,bothlostin theirownfears.
Suddenlytherewasnoise–rustling,feetmovingand thedoctor’slowvoice.‘My,she’sabiggirl,’theyheard
MrsCravenexclaim,andjustmomentslatertheyheardthe babycry.
‘ThankGodforthat,’Samexclaimed,wipinghissweaty browonhissleeve.
ShortlyafterwardsMrsCravencameoutofthebedroom withthebabywrappedinablanketinherarms.Shelooked exhausted,butshewassmiling.‘Thisisyourbabysister.A reallittleporker,’shesaidwithsomepride.
ForBeth,thesightofMrsCraven’sblood-drenched aprondilutedanyjoyandwondershemighthavefeltat seeingherlittlesister.‘Mama–isshewell?’sheasked.
‘Shewillbesoon,thedoctor’sstitchingherupnow,’Mrs Cravenreplied.‘Butyoucandoyourbitbytakingcareof thislittleone,’shesaid,handingthebundleovertoBeth. ‘Putherinthecradleclosetothestovetokeepherwarm. I’vegottogobackandhelpthedoctor.’
WhileSamgotthecradlefromwhereithadbeenleftin theparlour,Bethstoodlookingdownatthebabyinher arms.She’dneverseenanewbornbabybefore,andalthough MrsCravenhadsaidthisonewasbig,toheritlookedtiny, redandwrinkled.Itshairwasdark,andalthoughshe couldn’tseeitseyesfortheywereallscrewedup,sheliked itslittlemouthwhichitkeptopeningandshuttinglike afish.
Sambroughtinthecradle.‘Ithinkwe’dbetterwarmup themattressandthecoversfirst,’Bethsuggested,forthere hadn’tbeenafireonintheparloursincetheweathergot reallycold.‘Whatdoyouthinkofher?’
Samlookeddownatthebabyandtentativelystrokedits cheekwithonefinger.‘She’sabitugly,’hesaid,wrinkling hisnosewithdistaste.
‘Noshe’snot,’Bethsaiddefensively.‘She’ssweet,and it’sjustthesameaslookingatanewbornpuppyorkitten.
Theyalllooklikelittleratsatfirst,buttheysoongetreally pretty,andsowillshe.’
Whatwithallthepreparationofthebaby’scradleand makingyetmoreteaforMrsCravenandthedoctor,they temporarilyforgotabouttheirmother.Itwasonlywhen theirneighbourcamebackintothekitchenwithabigbundle ofbloodsoakedlinenandaskedSamtogetthetinbath fromtheyardtoputittosoakthattheyweresharply reminded.
‘She’llbepoorlyforsometime,’MrsCravensaidgravely. ‘We’llhavetobuildherstrengthupagainwithsome goodbeeftea,eggsandmilk.Whenthedoctorhasfinished withher,youcangoinforaminuteortwotoseeher. Don’texpectmuchfromherthough,she’shadatough time.’
ItseemedlikehoursbeforeDrGillespiefinallycameout ofthebedroom,thoughinfactitwasn’tmorethanhalfan hour.Helookedwearyashestrippedoff abloodstained apronandwentovertothesinktowashhishands.‘Have youanybrandyinthehouse?’heasked.
‘Ithinkso,sir,’Samsaid,goingintothelardertogetit.
‘Goodlad,giveyourmothersomeinhotmilk.’Hewalked overtothecradleandlookeddownatthesleepingbaby. ‘SheatleastseemsinverygoodhealthandMrsCravenwill explainwhatsheneeds.I’llcomebackinthemorningto checkonyourmother.’
Hetookasmalldarkbrownbottlefromhisbagandput itdownonthetable.‘Ifyourmotherisinpainduringthe nightshecanhavethreeorfourdropsofthisinhotwater. Tryandgethertodrinksomewatertoo.’
‘Goon!Youcangoandseehernow,’MrsCravenurged themoncethedoctorhadgone.‘ThenImustbeawayto mybedtoo.’
SamandBethcreptintotheirmother’sroomontiptoe, notknowingquitewhattoexpect.Everythinglooked surprisinglyorderlyandnormalconsideringwhathadgone onhere,thoughitwasveryhotwiththefirelitandthere wasafunnysmell.ButAliceseemedtohaveshrunk; shetookupnomoreroominthebigbrassbedthana child,andherfacehadastrangemottledappearanceinthe gaslight.
‘Howareyoufeeling,Mama?’Samasked.
‘Ihurt,’shecroakedout.‘Thebaby?’
‘She’sfine,allwrappedupandinhercradlesleeping,’ Bethsaidsoftly.‘You’vegottodrinkthis,’sheadded,going closersoshecouldlifthermotherenoughforhertodrink themilkandbrandy.‘I’llsleepinthekitchenwithhertonight soshe’llstaywarmandIcankeepaneyeonher.It’ssnowing outside.’
WhenhermotherhadfinishedthedrinkandBethlaid herdownagain,shecaughtholdofherdaughter’sforearm. ‘Pleasedon’thatemeforthis,’shesaidpleadingly.
‘Hateyouforwhat?’Bethfrowned,lookingatSamin puzzlement.
‘Forleavingyouwithsuchaburden,’shesaidasshe closedhereyes.
Bethtuckedthecoversaroundhermotherandturned thegasdowntillitwasjustafaintglow.Samputafew morecoalsonthefireandtheycreptquietlyoutofthe room.
‘Doesshethinkshe’sgoingtodie?’BethaskedSamonce MrsCravenhadgonehome.
‘Thatwilljustbetheeffectofthemedicinethedoctor gaveher,’herepliedknowledgeably.‘Don’tpayitany mind.’
‘Iwon’tbeabletogototheshoptomorrowifI’vegot
tolookafterthebaby,’Bethsaid.‘MrHooleywon’tbe pleasedwhenit’ssoclosetoChristmas.Whatifhewon’t holdmypositionuntilMamaisbetteragain?’
‘Don’tworryyourheadaboutthat,’Samsaidwearily. ‘YouwriteanoteforhimandI’llputitthroughthedoor onmywaytowork.Now,I’dbetterputmorecoalinthe stovetokeepourlittlesisterwarm.IwonderwhatMama willwanttocallher.’
‘IthinkshelookslikeaMolly,’Bethsaid,peepinginto thecradleagain.‘Ijusthopeshedoesn’twakeupuntilMrs Cravencomesin.Idon’tknowathingaboutbabies.’
Bethsleptfitfullyintheoldarmchairbythestove,withher feetuponastoolandsomeblanketsoverher.Shekept wakingattheslightestnoise,buteachtimeitwasnothing morethancracklingfromthestove,oralittlemurmurfrom thebaby.Butwhenevershetriedtogobacktosleep,her mindkeptmullingoverthatpleafromhermother.
AtsixinthemorningBethwascuddlingthebabyand tryingtogethertostopcrying,whentoherreliefMrs Cravencameinthroughthebackdoor,stampingherfeet togetridofthesnowonherboots.
‘Babyneedschangingandfeeding,’shesaidbossily,and throwingoff hercoat,shetookthebabyfromBethand proceededtoremovethesoggyblanket,orderingBethto goandgettheboxofbabyclothesandnapkins.
Bethwatchedinfascinationastheolderwomancarefully washedthetinybabyandgaveherinstructionsaboutchangingthepieceoflintaroundthestumpofitsumbilicalcord andsprinklingaspecialpowderonthecorduntilitfelloff. Shethenfoldedanapkinintoatriangleandfastenedit aroundthebaby’sbottom.
‘Later,whentheshopsareopen,youmustgoandseeif
youcanbuyapairofindia-rubberwaterproofpantsforher,’ MrsCravensaid.‘Theydidn’thavethemwhenmybabies wereborn,butIbelievetheyareagodsendastheykeep theirclothesandbeddingdry.Youmustchangethenapkin everytwoorthreehours.Ifyouleaveherwetshe’llget sore.’
Asshedressedthebabyinalittlenightgown,sheimparted agreatdealmoreinformationaboutbabycare,mostof whichwentoverBeth’shead.
‘Now,we’lltakehertoyourmotherforafeed,’shesaid, handingthebabybacktoBeth.‘Shemightprotestasshe’s feelingpoorly,butamotheralwaysgetsbetterquickerwhen sheholdsherbaby.’
Alicedidlookmarginallybetter,inasmuchastheawful blotchingonherfacehadfaded,andsheopenedhereyes andtriedtosmile.ShewincedwithpainasMrsCraven helpedhertositupabitsoshecouldputmorepillows behindher,andshewasterriblypale.
BethknewnowthatDrGillespiehadperformedwhat wascalledacaesarean,anditshouldhavebeendoneinthe hospital.Buthehadnochoice:Mamacouldn’tbemoved andthebabyhadtoberemovedquicklyortheywouldboth havedied.
‘We’lljustletbabyhavealittlefeed,’MrsCravensaid, unbuttoningthefrontofMama’snightgown.‘ThenI’ll getyouadrink,somethingtoeatandmakeyoumore comfortable.’
Bethblushedatseeinghermother’sbreast,butasMrs Cravenputthebabytoitandshelatchedonquickly,sucking eagerly,embarrassmentturnedtodelightatthesightofsuch greedandBethhadtosmile.
‘She’salittlefighter,thatone,’MrsCravensaidtenderly. ‘Now,whatareyougoingtocallher?’
‘Ithinkshe’saMolly,’Bethsaid,andsatdownonthe edgeofthebed.
‘ThenMollyitshallbe,’hermothersaidwiththeghost ofasmile.
ChapterFour
InthedaysfollowingMolly’sbirthBethdidn’tgetaminute toherself,foritwasacontinuousroundofchangingand comfortingMolly,seeingtohermother,includinghelping herontoachamberpotbecauseshecouldn’tgetdownto theprivy,thendoingallthewashingandotherhousehold chores.Thesnowstilllaythicklyonthegroundandmost daysthereweremoreflurries.Itwassodarkinsidetheflat thatBethoftenhadtolightthegasduringtheday.When sherushedouttogetgroceries,shedidn’tlinger,forhowever invitingChurchStreetlooked,withtheshopwindowsall deckedoutforChristmas,thehot-chestnutsellersandthe organgrinders,itwastoocoldtostayoutside.
Shehadbecomeentrancedbyherbabysister.Looking afterherwasapleasure,notachore,andshedidn’tfeel harddonebywitheverythingelseshehadtodoeither.But withinaweekthejoywasreplacedbyanxietyabouther mother.
AtfirstAlicehadseemedtobegettingprogressively better.OnthethirddayafterthebirthsheaskedBethfor anomelette,andshe’deateneveryscrapofit,andsomerice pudding.ShewasholdingMollyforlongperiodsaftershe’d fedher,andshewasgladtotalktoBeth,explaininglittle thingsaboutbabiesandcookingtoher.
Onthefourthdayshewasmuchthesameuntilthe evening,whenshesuddenlysaidshewasveryhot.Bythe followingmorningBethhadtorunroundandgetDrGillespie becauseshewasfeverish.
Thedoctorsaidwomenoftenbecamethatwayonthe fourthorfifthdayafterconfinement,andrecommended Bethmakeherdrinklotsoffluidsandkeepherwarm.But Alicegrewworseandworse,sofeverishshehardlyknew whoshewas.Anastysmellwascomingfromher,andshe wasrackedbyterriblepaininherstomachthateventhe medicinethedoctorhadgivenherdidn’tstop.
MrsCravencalleditchildbedfever,butDrGillespiehad amuchmorefancynameforit.Hecameintwiceaday, irrigatingMama’swombwithsomekindofantisepticsolutionandthenpackingitwithgauze.
TheycarriedonputtingMollytoherbreasts,eventhough Alicecouldn’tholdher,butthismorningMrsCravenhad broughtinaglassbottlewitharubberteat.Shedidn’thave toexplainwhy;itwasevidentthatAlice’shealthwasso poorthatshecouldn’tproduceenoughmilk.
MollytooktothebottlewithgustoandBethgotagreat dealofcomforttoofromsittinginthecomfortablechairby thestovenursingher.ShelovedthewayMolly’seyesopened verywideasshebegantofeed;theylookedliketwodark bluemarbles,andshewavedhertinyhandsasifthathelped hertogetthemilkdownfaster.Butasshereachedtheend ofthebottle,hereyeswoulddroopandherhandswould sinktohersides.
OftenBethwouldsitforanhourormoreholdingMolly upbyhershoulder,rubbingherbackthewayMrsCraven hadadvisedtogetherwindup.Shelovedthesmelland thefeelofher,thelittlesighsofcontentmentandeverythingabouther.Evenwhenshe’dfinallychangedher napkin,swaddledherinablanketsojustherlittlehead wasvisibleandtuckedherbackintothecradle,shewould standandwatchhersleeping,marvellingatthemiracleof newlife.
Yetthejoywasmarredbyhermother’spoorhealth. NeitherDrGillespienorMrsCravenhadevenhintedthat Alicewasn’tgoingtorecover,buthoweverhardBethtried tobeoptimistic,shecouldsensedeathapproachinginthe nextroom.
Theirgoodhearted,competentneighbourwaspoppingin everytwoorthreehoursnow,andBethknewbytheincrease inbloodstainedsheets,thefoulsmell,thewayMrsCraven keptpilingmorecoalonthebedroomfireandthetightness ofherexpressionthatitwasonlyamatteroftime.
Bethdidn’ttellSamofherfears,forsheknewhewas worriedaboutmoney.MrHooleyatthehosieryshophad takenadimviewofBethwantingtimeoff athisbusiest period,andtherewasnoquestionofhimholdingherjob openuntilshecouldreturn.OntopofthatSamwasfreezing intheshippingofficeandhesaidthatitwashardtowrite neatlywhenhisfingerswerenumbwithcold.Thethought ofanothertwoorthreemonthsofwinterinsuchanicy workplacefilledhimwithdread.Bethreasonedthatifshe toldhimthattheirmotherwaslikelytodieandhe’dsinglehandedlyhavetosupportBethandMolly,hemightjustbe temptedtotaketohisheelsandrunoff.
However,onSundayevening,whenSamhadbeenhome alldayobservingthefranticactivity,Bethcouldseebyhis anxiousexpressionthathehadfinallyrealizedhowserious thingswere.
‘Whydidn’tyoutellme?’heaskedBethreproachfullyas shesatcuddlingMolly.
‘Youhadenoughtoworryabout,’shesaidtruthfully. ‘Besides,Ihopedshemightimprove.’
ThelittlebellBethhadputbytheirmother’sbedsideso shecouldcallifsheneededanything,tinkled.Bethgotup andwentintothebedroomwithMollystillinherarms.
Itwasveryhotandstuffy,andtheunpleasantsmellhad becomeevenstronger.
‘Adrink,Mama?’Bethaskedwithhereyesavertedfrom hermother’sface.Ithurttolookather,forthefleshonher faceseemedtohavesunkbackintoherbonesandhereyes stoodoutlikethoseofafishonafishmonger’sslab.
‘No.GetSam,Imustspeaktoyouboth,’shereplied,her voiceamerecroakywhisper.
Samcameinimmediately,hisnosewrinklingatthesmell. ‘Comecloser,’theirmotherwhispered.‘Ithurtstospeak now.’
Brotherandsisteredgedclosertothebed,Bethholding Mollytightlyagainstherchest.‘Whatisit,Mama?’Sam asked,hisvoiceshaking.
‘Ihavesomethingbadtotellyou,’Alicesaid.‘Iknow IamdyingbutIcan’tgowithitonmyconscience.’
Samstartedtosayshewasn’tgoingtodieandanyway, shewaspureandgood,butshewavedherhandfeeblyto stophim.‘I’mnotagoodwoman,’shesaid,hervoice falteringandrasping.‘Yourfatherkilledhimselfbecauseof whatIdid.’
SamlookedsidewaysatBethquestioningly.Hissister shrugged,thinkingtheirmotherwasjustramblingwiththe fever.
‘Therewasanotherman.Yourfatherdiscovereditafew weeksbeforehetookhislife.Hesaidhewouldforgiveme ifImadeapledgethatIwouldneverseethemanagain.’ Shebrokeoff,coughingweakly.NeitherBethnorSam movedtohelpherdrink.
‘Imadethatpledge,’shewentonasthecoughingabated. ‘ButIcouldn’tsticktoitandcontinuedtoseetheman whenIcouldgetaway.ThelasttimeIsawhimwasthe morningofthedayFrankhangedhimself.’
Bethwasstunned.‘Howcouldyou?’sheburstout. ‘You,you...’Sam exclaimed,hisfaceturningredwith angeranddisgust.‘Youwhore!’
‘Thereisnothingyoucansaywhichwillmakemefeel worsethanIdo,’Aliceraspedout.‘Ibetrayedyourfather andIamresponsibleforhisdeath.Hewasagoodman,too goodforme.’
‘AndMolly?Whoisherfather?’Bethshouted.
‘Theotherman,’hermothersaid,closinghereyesasif shecouldn’tbeartoseeherchildren’sangryfaces.‘Lookin thedrawerwhereIkeepmystockings,’shesaid.‘Anote Ifoundthatnight,Frankhadtuckeditundermypillow.’
Samopenedthesmalltopdrawerinthedressingtable andrummagedforamomentortwo,thenpulledoutasheet ofwritingpaper.Hetookitovertothegaslighttoreadit. ‘Whatdoesitsay?’Bethasked.
DearAlice,Samread.
Ihaveknownforsometimethatyouarestillseeingyourlover.By thetimeyoufindthisIwillbegoneandyouwillbefreetogowith thismanyoucareformorethanme.AllIaskisthatyouwaita respectabletimeaftermydeathbeforetakingupwithhim,forour children’ssake.
Ilovedyou,I’msorrythatwasn’tenough. Frank.
BethhadbeguntocryasSamreadthenote.Shecould imagineherquiet,gentlefatherpenningitdownintheshop andcominguphereatteatimetoslipitunderthepillow. Evenwithabrokenhearthehadn’tresortedtoangeror spite,buthadcarriedonbeingalovinghusbandandfather tilltheend.
SammovedovertoBethandputonearmaroundher,
lookingdownatMollyasleepinherarms.Tearswererolling downhischeeks.
‘Why,Mama?’hecriedout.‘Whydidyouhavetodothat?’
‘Ididloveyourfather,butitwasthesweetloveofa friend,’sherepliedbrokenly.‘Passionisquiteanotherthing. Maybeonedayyou’lldiscoverthatforyourselvesand understand.’
‘Butwhydidn’tthisothermancomeforyou?’Sam shoutedinanger.‘Ifitwastruelove,whyisn’thewithyou now?’
‘Mybiggestfailingwastoconfusepassionwithlove,’she replied,hereyesburningasshelookedatherson.‘He vanishedintothenightassoonasheheardFrankwasdead. Thatwasmyrealpunishment,toknowIhadthrowninmy lotwithaphilandererwhocarednothingforme,andFrank diedthinkinghe’dfoundthewaytomakemehappy.’
‘Didthisothermanknowyouwerecarryinghischild?’ Bethsobbed.
‘No,Beth.Ididn’trealizeuntilafterthelasttimeIsaw him.’
Shebegantocoughandwheeze,anditwasplainshewas tooweaktosayanythingmore.‘Gotosleepnow,’Bethsaid curtly.‘We’lltalkagaintomorrow.’
Inthekitchenlater,Samwalkedupanddown,whitewith anger.‘Howcouldshe?’hekeptrepeating.‘Andifshe doesn’trecover,arewesupposedtolookafterthatbrat?’
BethwascryingasshenursedMollyinherarms.‘Don’t saythat,Sam.She’sjustababy,noneofthisisherfault, andshe’soursister.’
‘She’snosisterofmine,’heraged.‘Ourfathermighthave beenweakenoughtoaccepthiswifehadalover,butI’m notgoingtofollowinhisfootsteps–shecango.’
‘Gowhere?’Bethaskedthroughhertears.‘Areweto takehertotheFoundlingHome?Leaveheronsomeone’s doorstep?’
‘Ican’tandwon’tkeepthechildofamanwhoseduced mymotherandcausedmyfathertotakehisownlife,’Sam saidflatly,hismouthsetinadeterminedstraightline.‘Get ridofher!’
BethstayedupforalongtimeafterSamhadgoneoff to bed.ShefedandchangedMollyandputherdownin thecradle,thensatinthechairtryingtomakesenseof everything.
Butnothingdidmakesensetoher.Untiltonightshe hadn’tthoughtitpossiblethatawomanwhohadagood husband,childrenandacomfortablehomecouldeverwant anythingelse.Shehadofcourseheardwhispersofloose womenwhowentwithmenotherthantheirhusbands,but shehadalwayshadtheideathattheywerethekindofsluts whowentintoalehousesandpaintedtheirfaces.Not ordinarywomenlikehermother.
‘Passion’,inthewayhermotherhadmeantit,shehadno understandingof.MissClarksonhadbeenfondoftheword, thoughshehadmostlyuseditinconnectionwithmusic. Butonce,whenshewastalkingabouthowbabieswere made,shehadsaidthat‘passion’overtooksomewomen androbbedthemoftheirownwill.Bethhadtosuppose thatwaswhathadhappenedtohermother.
Bethwasstillsittinginthechaircryingwhenshehearda soundfromhermother’sbedroom.Somethinghadfallen tothefloor,perhapsthewaterglass.Shedidn’twanttosee Aliceagaintonight,butsheknewshehadtogointhereand checkonher.
Hermotherwaslyingovertoonesideofthebed,trying
toreachforthefamilyphotographwhichstoodonthe bedsidetable.Ithadbeentakenayearagoinaboothon NewBrightonBeachwhentheyhadgonethereforthe AugustBankHoliday.Reachingforit,shehadknockedover abottleofpillsthedoctorhadgivenher.
‘Isthatwhatyouwant?’Bethsaid,pickingitupand holdingitoutforhermothertolookat.
Hermotherliftedherarmwithgreatdifficultyandput onefingeronthepicture.‘Don’ttellanyoneaboutMolly,’ shewhispered.‘LeteveryonethinkshewasFrank’s.Notfor me,butforher,andgiveherthiswhensheisgrownup,so she’llknowwhatwelookedlike.’
HerhandwentfromthepicturetocatchholdofBeth’s wrist.Itfeltasdryasanautumnleaf,sosmallandbony, andshewasgrippingtight.‘I’msoverysorry,’shesaid.‘Tell meyouforgiveme.’
InstincttoldBeththatthiswastheendorverycloseto it.Whateverhermotherhaddone,whoevershehadhurt, shecouldn’tletherdiewithoutakindword.‘Yes,Iforgive you,Mama,’shesaid.
‘Icangothen?’Aliceaskedinawhisper.
ThegriponBeth’swristloosenedandhermother’shand felltotheblanket.Bethstoodlookingatherforsomelittle timebeforesherealizedshehadstoppedbreathing.
ChapterFive
‘We will havethecheapestfuneral,’Samarguedstubbornly. ‘Becauseofher,Fathercouldn’tbelaidtorestinhallowed groundandnoonecametothefuneraltosaywhatagood manhewas.Sowhyshouldshehaveanythingbetter?’
‘Wecan’tletherhaveapauper’sfuneral,’Bethsaid wearily,forthey’dbeenoverthisseveraltimesalreadysince hecameinforhissupper,anditwasnearlyeleveno’clock now.‘Whatwouldpeoplethinkofus?’
‘Whyshouldwecareaboutthat!’heexploded.‘Apart fromtheCravens,everyone’sbeenwhisperingmaliciously aboutussincePapadied.Letthemcarryondoingit.’
Bethbegantocrybecauseshedidn’tknowthisstonyheartedpersonwhohadtakentheplaceofherbrother. Theirmotherhadbeendeadforlessthantwenty-fourhours, herbodywasstilllyinginthebed,andyetSamhadgone off toworkthismorningasifnothinghadhappened. Sheunderstoodofcoursethathewasafraidhe’dlosehis jobifhedidn’t,buthecouldhaveexplainedthattoher, justafewgentlewordstoletherknowhewasn’tangrywith hertoo.
‘Don’tcry,Beth,’hesaid,hiseyesgrowingsofter.‘Idon’t meantobecruel,butthingsaredesperatenow.Wecan’t spendmoneywehaven’tgotonherfuneral.Andthatbaby hasgottogo!’
BethmovedprotectivelyovertoMolly’scradle.‘Don’t saythat,Sam.She’soursisterandIwillnotabandonher. Youcansellthepianooranythingelsetogetsomemoney,
we’lltakeinalodgerormovesomewherecheaper,butMolly stayswithus.’
‘Ican’tbeartoseeher,’hesaid,andhiseyesfilledwith tears.‘She’salwaysgoingtobeareminderofwhatMama drovePapatodo.’
‘IfMamahadn’tbeensohonestandbraveadmittingthe truth,we’dhavebeennonethewiser,’Bethargued.‘Besides, Papawouldturninhisgraveifweturnedourbacksona helplessbaby,evenifitwasn’this.Soyou’vegottofindthe humanitytoacceptthatwehavetodorightbyMolly.’
Samjustlookedatherthoughtfully.
Itwassomelittlewhilebeforehespokeagain.‘Putlike that,IsupposeI’llhavetoagree.’Hesighed.‘Butdon’t expectmetoeverfeelanythingforher.Anddon’tblame mewhenyoufindoutwhatbeingpoorisreallylike.’
ItwasenoughforBeththatSamhadbackeddown.‘Then I’llcompromiseandarrangethecheapestfuneral.Butyou mustn’tblamemeeitheriflateryoufinditmakesyoufeel badaboutyourself.’
Christmaswasbleak;theyhadneitherthemoneynorthe hearttoattemptanykindoffestivity.TheyleftMollywith MrsCravenjustlongenoughtogotochurchonChristmas morning,butthatgavethemnocomfortforitonlyserved toremindthemofjoyfulChristmasespast.Afewpeople approachedthemtooffercondolences,buttherewasno ringofsincerityinthem,onlycuriosity.
Thefuneraltookplacetwodayslater,andMrsCraven’s eldestdaughtermindedMolly.Heavyrainhadmeltedthe snow,butanicywindblewacrossthechurchyard,almost cuttingtheminhalfasthecheapcoffinwasloweredinto thegrave.ApartfromSamandBeth,therewereonlythree othermourners:theCravensandDrGillespie.AsFather
Reillyintonedthefinalwordsofthecommittal,Bethglanced overtowhereherfatherwasburiedinunhallowedground. Shethoughthowunjustitwasthatamanwhohadnever sinnedagainstanyoneshouldbethere,whilehisadulterous wifelayinthechurchyard.
BythefirstweekinFebruary,whenSambecameseventeen andBethsixteen,theywereforcedtosellthepiano.Beth didn’treallycaremuchaboutit,afterallshestillhadher preciousfiddle,butseeingthepianobeingloweredout throughthewindowtothestreetbelowbroughthometo herhowtragicallyironicitwas.
Toherparentsthepianowasasymbolthattheyhad succeededinliftingtheirchildrenuptothemiddleclasses, andassuchtheywouldneversufferthehardshipsthey themselveshadendured.Yetbybeingprotectedfromwant andshieldedfromthehardfactsofreallife,bothsheand Samlackedtheresourcestocopewithpoverty.
Bethcouldbakecakes,layatableproperly,starchand ironashirt,andhadacquireddozensofotherrefinedaccomplishments,butshe’dneverbeentaughttoplanaweek’s mealsonatinybudget.Sammightbeabletohaulincoal forthestove,shovelsnowoutofthebackyardandbeon timeeverydayforwork,buthehadnoideahowtounblock asinkorfixabrokensashcordinthewindow.
Alltheirchildhoodtherehadalwaysbeenafireinthe parlour,thestoveinthekitchenandevenfiresinthebedroomswhenitwasreallycold.Thegaswaslitinallthe roomsbeforeitgrewdark,therewasalwaysfruitinabowl, cakeinthetinandmeateveryday.
ThecoalranoutsoonafterChristmasandwhenthey orderedmoretheywereshockedatthepriceandcouldonly keepthestoveinthekitchengoing.Thegasateuppennies
sofastthattheywereafraidtolightit.Fruitandcake disappearedfromtheirdiet.
Sam’swageswerespentonfoodlongbeforeFridaycame round,andoncethey’deatenallthepreservesandstoresof sugarandflourtheirmotherhadsofrugallytuckedawayin thepantry,theyweredowntobreadaloneuntilpayday.
MaybeSamshouldhaveheldoutforabetterpricefor theirmother’sprizedroundmahoganytableandmatching chairs,buttheyneededthemoneytopayforthecoaland thebillfromDrGillespie.Therewasnodoubttheywere swindledwhenthegrandfatherclockwassold.Butneither ofthemhadanyideaoftherealvalueoftheseitems,or thatsecond-handfurnituredealerscouldsmelldesperation.
AlthoughBethlovedcaringforMolly,shehadn’t reckonedonthelonelinessofbeinghomealldayalonewith ababy.Sheneverseemedtohaveaminuteforherselfto read,playherfiddleortakeabath.Samwasn’tinterestedin hearingaboutMollywhenhecameinfromwork,shehad nooneotherthanMrsCravenshecouldtalkto,andshe wascontinuallyworriedaboutmoney.
BythemiddleofMarchSamcouldseenoalternativeother thantofindlodgerstomakeendsmeet.
Oneofthemoreseniorclerksinhisofficesuggestedhis cousinThomasWileyandhiswifeJane,whohadbeen stayingwithhimandhisfamilysinceThomasmovedfrom ManchestertotakeupworkintheLiverpoolpostoffice. Thecouplewereintheirmid-thirties,andBethtookan immediatedisliketoJane.Everythingaboutherwassharp –hereyeswhichdartedaroundtheroomasshespoke,her noseandcheekbones,andevenhervoicehadasharpedge toit.
SheshowednointerestinMollyandshelookedBethup
anddownasifpricingupthevalueofherclothes.When Bethtriedtosuggesttheyfiguredoutaplanwheneach wouldcooktheireveningmeal,Janedismissedherbysaying shewasn’toneforcooking.
Herhusband,Thomas,waseasiertotaketo,ajovial, ruddy-facedmanwhoappearedverygratefultobeoffered theparlourandBeth’soldbedroomuponthetopfloor abovethekitchen,forsheandMollywerenowinher parents’oldroom.Thomassaidhehadbeguntodespairof everfindinganywheredecent,orevenclean,forhehad beentoviewroomsthathewouldn’tevenkeepadogin.
SadlyitsoontranspiredthatThomaslikedthedrinkmore thanhedidhiswifeorhome.Mosteveningshedidn’troll backtillafterten.
BethtriedhardtogetalongwithJane,butitwasclear fromthestartshethoughtalodgershouldbewaitedon. SheorderedBethtofillthetinbathinthebedroomforher onherseconddaythere.WhenBethsaidsheandSam alwayshadabathinthekitchenasitwasfarwarmerand moreconvenient,andanywayJanemustfillitandemptyit herself,thewomanflouncedaroundindignantly,declaring ‘she’dneverheardthelike’.
Asitwas,shespilledwateralloverthekitchenfloorand madenoattempttocleanitup.Shecomplainedthatthe soundofMollycryinginthenightwokeherandthatthe mattressonthebedwaslumpy.BethrushedtofeedMolly ifshewokeinthenight,andshespentagoodhourshaking thefeathermattressoutsidetomakeitfluffier,butJane didn’treciprocateinanyway.Shecouldmakeamesseven makingacupoftea,andnevercleareditup.Shewouldfill thesinkwithwashingandthendisappear,whichmeantBeth hadtodoherwashingforherorwasunabletousethesink.
DaybydayBethsawthecomfortableandorderlylife
