Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [3]
Beth caught hold of her arms and tried to prevent her from going into the shop. ‘You mustn’t go in there, Mama,’ she begged. ‘It’s horrible.’
But her mother wouldn’t be deterred; she thrust Beth aside, rushed over to the storeroom and wrenched the door open. Her scream when she saw her husband reverberated through the whole building. But the scream was shut off abruptly as she slumped to the floor in a faint.
An hour later Sam arrived home to find the shop was not in darkness as he’d expected. Through the window he saw rotund Dr Gillespie and burly Mr Craven, their neighbour, but even before they opened the door to him, he knew something was seriously wrong.
It was the doctor who explained that Beth had run to Mr Craven when her mother collapsed. Mr Craven sent his son to fetch the doctor, and came back with Beth to cut Papa’s body down. When Gillespie arrived he had told Beth to take her mother upstairs, give her some brandy and put her to bed.
Sam was a tall, lanky boy of sixteen. He swayed on his feet at the news, the colour draining from his face and the shock of it almost making him collapse too. His father’s body was on the floor, covered in a blanket, all except for one hand which was stained brown with leather dye. If it hadn’t been for that hand Sam might have refused to believe what the men told him, but Frank’s hand was as familiar to him as his own.
He asked why his father had done such a thing, but they couldn’t tell him. Mr Craven scratched his head and said it was a mystery to him as only that morning he’d dropped into the shop for a chat, and Frank had been in good spirits. Dr Gillespie was equally baffled and spoke of how well respected in the community Frank was. It was clear both men were as horrified and shocked as Sam.
The doctor caught hold of both Sam’s arms, looking right into his eyes. ‘The mortuary cart will be here soon,’ he said gently. ‘There has to be an inquest in situations like this. You must be the man of the house now, Sam, and take care of your mother and sister.’
Sam felt as if a trapdoor had opened beneath his feet and he had fallen into a place he didn’t recognize. For as far back as he could remember, there had always been order and absolute certainty in his life. He had often baulked at the dullness of the daily routine, with his father working in the shop from seven in the morning till late in the evening, and his mother cooking and cleaning upstairs. Yet he had always felt safe in the knowledge that if he did fall flat on his face while seeking out a more adventurous life for himself, everything would remain the same here and he could come back to it.
But at a stroke all that precious certainty was gone.
How could such a mild-mannered, thoughtful and kind-hearted man have such demons lurking inside him? And why didn’t those closest to him ever catch a glimpse of them? Just that morning Sam had watched his father go to the foot of the stairs and listen while Beth was playing her fiddle. He made no comment, but his face had been alight with pride in her talent. Later, when Sam had finished repairing a pair of boots, Frank had clapped him on the shoulder and praised his work.
Time and again both he and Beth had witnessed the loving way their father looked at their mother, seen him holding her and kissing her. If they all meant that much to him, why did he want to leave them?
And what would happen to the family now, without the man who had been their provider, their rock and comforter?
Chapter Two
The grandfather clock on the landing struck midnight but Sam and Beth were still in the kitchen, too stunned and upset to even think of going to bed. Their father’s body had been taken away hours ago, and Sam held Beth’s hands tightly as once again she went over how she’d found their father. From time to time he would wipe the tears away from her cheeks with his handkerchief, and smooth her hair comfortingly. Likewise, when Sam became overwrought and his voice rose in anger, Beth would reach out