Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [20]
‘I’ll make you pay for this,’ Jane shouted back as she lay sprawled on the ground, her grubby petticoats and drawers on display. ‘You won’t get away with it. I want my things.’
‘You can have them,’ Beth said. ‘I’ll throw them out the window to you.’
With that she turned away, went in through the back door, locking it behind her, and ran upstairs. It took only a couple of minutes to scoop up the woman’s coat, hat, purse and a pair of boots from the bedroom, then she threw the kitchen window open and dropped them down into the yard below.
‘Be grateful you’ve even got those,’ she yelled. ‘The rest will be left in the outhouse for you to collect this evening.’
Mr Craven had come out into the alley beyond the backyard and he was looking up curiously at Beth in the window. ‘I’m just chucking her out for slandering my parents,’ she shouted to him. ‘Would you mind helping her on her way?’
She stayed just long enough at the window to see her neighbour escorting Jane out of the back gate, and to hear the woman’s vitriolic stream of abuse.
Somehow Beth managed to give Molly her bottle, even though she was trembling like a leaf from shock. She heard Mrs Craven calling from the yard and went down to let her in.
‘Oh, lovey!’ she exclaimed when she saw how pale and agitated Beth was. ‘We heard the yelling, and that’s why my Alfie went looking to see what was going on.’
The sympathy in her voice made Beth cry, and Mrs Craven embraced her, then took Molly from her arms. ‘I’ll make you a nice cup of tea, and you can tell me all about it.’
‘There isn’t any milk. That’s how it all started,’ Beth began.
‘Then I’ll just go and get some,’ Mrs Craven said. ‘And you’d better change Molly’s napkin while I’m gone. She stinks!’
Half an hour later, Beth had explained everything. The tea and her neighbour’s concern had made her feel better.
‘I knew she was a baggage the first time I clapped eyes on her. Common as muck and hard-faced too,’ Mrs Craven said, bouncing Molly on her knee. ‘As if you haven’t had enough to cope with! But you mustn’t pay any mind to what she said about your mother.’
‘But is that what people are saying?’
Mrs Craven frowned. ‘No one has said it to me. If they had I’d have put them straight. But my Alfie did say there was talk in the Fiddlers.’
The Fiddlers Inn was around the corner in Lord Street. Papa hadn’t been a drinker, but most of their male neighbours drank there, and Thomas Wiley did too.
It hadn’t occurred to Beth before that anyone would suspect Molly wasn’t her father’s child, and she was horrified to learn they did, but she had no intention of admitting the rumours were true, not even to kind-hearted Mrs Craven.
‘Why are people so cruel?’ she asked in bewilderment.
‘Sometimes it’s from jealousy. Your family looked so perfect, your mother was a pretty woman, your father had a good business and two children to be proud of. No one could understand why he took his own life, so they make guesses at the reason.’
‘What will become of us now?’ Beth asked sadly. ‘We needed lodgers to manage. Sam’s going to be so cross with me.’
‘I don’t think so, Beth.’ Mrs Craven reached out and took Beth’s hand across the table. ‘You showed a lot of spirit, he’ll admire that. Now, let me help you pack up the Wileys’ things. My Alfie will keep his ear open for when they come back for them, and help if they start any trouble.’
Chapter Six
‘I wish we could emigrate to America,’ Sam said dejectedly as he ate his supper. ‘This place is full of bad memories. I hate it now.’
It was the day after Beth had thrown out Jane Wiley. Sam hadn’t been angry about it, only demoralized. He had pointed out that there were hundreds of people needing somewhere to live, but it was impossible to know who might rob them or make their lives a misery.
Beth had been badly shaken by the whole thing. When she’d gone to clean out the Wileys’ room, she’d found the chamber pot hadn’t been emptied for days, and there were crusts of stale