Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [8]
A while ago Sam had remarked that it was as if their mother had been replaced by a sullen servant. He said it jokingly, but that was exactly what it was like, for she made and served their meals without a word. She had never been a great conversationalist, a little gossip about the neighbours had been her limit, but she’d always been a good listener and was aware of any little changes in either of them, showing concern if they felt poorly or seemed sad. She didn’t notice now whether they were tired or had a cold; she didn’t even make a remark about the weather. If they asked her what she’d done during the day she would reply with one bald sentence: ‘I did the washing’ or ‘I changed the beds’. Beth would seethe inwardly, wanting to scream out that she still had them and the home she loved, while her children’s world had been turned upside down. Sam was tied to a desk for ten hours a day, at the beck and call of men who treated him like dirt on their boots. He couldn’t wander off to the docks for an hour or two the way he used to; every penny he earned was needed.
Maybe Beth had wanted to work in a shop, but she soon found that working in Hooley’s Hosiery wasn’t anything like she had imagined. She and the other shop assistants had to line up each morning for a check that their nails were clean and their boots polished, and just a couple of strands of hair coming loose was a serious misdemeanour. Customers were often rude, but she had to smile sweetly as if they were royalty. She couldn’t even go to the privy without asking permission, and just talking to another assistant was to risk being fired. She was spied on all the time, there were countless petty rules, and she found being on her feet all day exhausting. Their mother rarely went out, so she didn’t see the sneers on people’s faces or overhear their cruel remarks. Sam and Beth lived with that every day.
But all the feelings of anxiety, resentment and irritation that Beth had felt in the past couple of months were eclipsed today by something far more serious.
It was early closing day, and Beth got home soon after one. She intended to have something to eat, then try to persuade her mother to come out with her for a walk in the sunshine.
The people taking over the shop were going to sell shoes, and during the last week a carpenter had been building shelves and a counter. As Beth came in through the back door, a painter was working in the shop with the door wide open. He apologized for the paint fumes and said he hoped that wasn’t what had upset her mother, for he’d heard her being sick in the privy.
Beth was naturally alarmed and ran upstairs to see Mama. But she denied there was anything wrong and said the painter was mistaken.
The paint fumes were very strong in their flat, but even so her mother refused to go out with Beth. So Beth had some bread and cheese and went out alone.
They only used the back door now, but as she came up Church Street the shop door was wide open, so she slipped in that way to save going round the back. It was about half past three, and she paused in the small lobby by the stairs up to their flat, because through the open back door she could see her mother in the yard taking the washing off the clothes-line.
She was stretching up to reach one of Sam’s shirts, and Beth was shocked to see that her belly had grown very big.
Her mother was short and she’d always been very slender, in fact her waist had been so small that her father used to encircle it with his two hands. Three months ago, when Beth had fitted her mourning dress on her, it had still been the same. But it wasn’t like that any more. She was wearing a linen apron over her black dress, but the waistband of the apron was well above where it should have been, and her swollen belly was clearly defined.
Beth was so shocked she almost cried out and alerted her mother that she was watching her. It wasn’t an overall fatness for Alice’s face had grown much thinner since she was widowed. Beth knew exactly what swollen