Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [46]
She had got up extra early this morning and crept into the house to watch Molly sleeping. Mrs Langworthy had had her father-in-law’s bedroom stripped and redecorated just as soon as Beth had agreed Molly could stay with her. The room was finished a week ago and it was fit for a princess, with pink roses on the wallpaper, a proper cot and a new apple-green rug with white fringes. Mrs Langworthy had suggested Molly slept in it as soon as it was ready, thinking it would be less of a shock to her after Beth had left. But Molly hadn’t seemed the slightest bit daunted by her new surroundings, and slept like a top from the first night.
Since then Mr Edward had been out and bought her many toys, including building bricks, a furry dog on wheels to push around and a rocking horse. Beth knew she ought to be glad he was showing his delight at becoming her sister’s guardian, yet somehow each new acquisition made her feel more dejected and inadequate.
That morning Beth had sat in the room with just the palest of early-morning light to see her sister by. She had silently worshipped her, drinking in her long eyelashes on her plump, rosy cheeks, her dark curls, and the way her first finger curled around her nose as she sucked her thumb. Her head told her she was doing the right thing for Molly, that her future would be immeasurably better with her Uncle Edward and Aunt Ruth, but she still felt like a condemned woman waiting for her life to expire.
Even worse was the final leave-taking. Mrs Langworthy held Molly in her arms at the front door as they got into the carriage with Mr Edward, Mrs Bruce and Kathleen. As the carriage rumbled away down the street, Beth had to steel herself from jumping out to snatch Molly back.
Down on the quay a woman was wailing loudly. She was old, perhaps a grandmother, too old to go with her family. She held her arms outstretched, tears streaming down her wrinkled face, as if begging them not to leave her, and Beth had to turn her face away as the sight was too tragic to bear.
The gangways were stowed away, sailors cast off, then coiled the ropes away, and suddenly the gap between ship and shore widened. The band struck up a jolly sea shanty, the last of the paper streamers were thrown, and in a last-ditch attempt to show Mr Edward she was happy to be going, Beth took off her new straw hat and waved it, even though tears were rolling down her cheeks.
‘You’ll feel better soon,’ Sam said, putting his arm around her waist. ‘Molly will be happy with the Langworthys. You’ve still got me, and so much adventure to come. It’s time too that you had some fun.’
Beth’s only reply was to lean her head against his shoulder. It helped to know he hadn’t been fooled by her pretended delight, and understood her pain. But it was so long since she’d had any fun, she wasn’t sure she’d even recognize it when it came again.
Just this morning Mrs Bruce had said that she believed true happiness came to those who actively sought to bring it to others through kindness and thoughtfulness. She said Beth must look upon everyone on the ship as potential friends, not strangers, and to remember that they were all as apprehensive about what lay in wait for them in America as she and Sam were.
The ship was gaining speed, the faces of those on the dockside a pale blur. There was no turning back now, so she had to be brave and think of how lucky they were to be getting this chance to shake off all the sadness of the past and build a new future. As Sam had so rightly said, there was so much adventure to come.
‘Let’s go below decks and meet the people we’re going to be sailing with,’ she suggested more brightly than she felt.