Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [39]
Reverend Bloom’s eyes scanned the congregation. ‘Many of you here today owe your present prosperity to him for he took you on when you were young lads, showed a fatherly interest in you and trained you well. Others of you connected with charitable institutions will remember how he championed your causes and made generous donations to keep them going.’
Maybe it was because Mr Langworthy had followed his dream that Beth found herself drifting off again in thoughts of Sam. She had hoped that when he made new friends at the Adelphi he would lose interest in America. But he hadn’t. He pored over maps, read books and articles in magazines and saved every spare penny to go.
Until now Beth had been inclined to view Sam’s passion to emigrate as merely adventuring, but it suddenly occurred to her that it wasn’t so different to Mr Langworthy wanting to be an engineer. If he hadn’t been bold enough to defy his father and strike out for what he really wanted, many of the people here today wouldn’t have had work, charities would have been poorer, and who would have made those water pumps and steam engines he sent all over the world? Maybe Sam’s desire to go to America wasn’t going to benefit anyone else, but on the other hand if he didn’t go, he might become bitter and end up blaming her. Beth was afraid of being left here alone with Molly, especially now when the future was so uncertain, but she thought she was more fearful of losing her brother’s affection by holding him back.
At five that afternoon Beth was washing up in the kitchen while Cook put leftover food away in the pantry, when she heard Mrs Langworthy saying goodbye to the last of the guests at the front door. Even from some distance she could hear the weariness in her mistress’s voice and feel the strain she had been under all day as she tried to hold her emotions in check.
The front door closed. Beth heard Mrs Langworthy asking Mrs Bruce and Kathleen to clear away the last of the glasses and food in the dining room, then a few minutes later she came down the stairs to the basement.
She looked pale and wan in her black dress, but she smiled at Beth and Cook. ‘I just wanted to thank you for doing so much today,’ she said.
Cook looked up from putting away some leftover cakes. ‘We were glad to,’ she said. ‘But you look very tired, mam. Can I get you anything?’
The mistress sighed and put her hand to her forehead as if it hurt. ‘No, thank you, Mrs Cray, you’ve done quite enough for one day, you go on home. If we want some supper later, we can find something ourselves.’ She turned to look at Molly who was sitting on a blanket in the corner playing with a couple of wooden spoons.
‘You’ve been a very good girl today,’ she said, bending down to pick her up. ‘I haven’t heard a peep from you.’
‘She’s a little angel,’ Cook said fondly. ‘I think she knew we were all too busy to play with her.’
Holding Molly in her arms, Mrs Langworthy slumped down on a chair and cuddled her. She remained silent, bent forward with her face against the baby’s hair.
Beth suddenly realized her mistress was crying, and in alarm she moved forward. ‘What is it, mam?’ she asked.
‘Losing my father-in-law has made me realize how empty my life is,’ Mrs Langworthy said, lifting her head a little and trying to wipe her tears away.
‘You’re bound to feel a bit adrift for a while,’ Beth said soothingly. ‘But you’ll be able to do all the things you never had time for now. Shall I make you a nice cup of tea?’
‘This is what I want,’ Mrs Langworthy said, holding Molly against her chest. ‘A baby to love. Without a child a woman has nothing.’
Mrs Cray made a warning