‘No, I’m not going anywhere special,’ she replied, first kissing her father on the forehead then seating herself at the table and pouring a cup of tea from the white china teapot. ‘Just to the market.’ She carefully omitted to say she was meeting Tyler there.
‘Oh, well, then.’ Richard smiled and picked up his paper. He could see she was not in a talkative mood. ‘The stallholders are in for a treat, I reckon.’ His smile crinkled into a laugh and, always infected by her father’s rare displays of happiness, Beth also laughed. But then, acutely aware of Esther’s disapproval, they quickly fell silent, with Beth concentrating on daintily sipping her tea, and her father enthusiastically scanning the newspaper before making the comment, ‘The working class won’t rest until it has a party of its own to vote for. It won’t be long in coming either… there are already a growing number of “Lib-Labs” in Parliament.’
Ester looked up at his remark, her voice scathing as she declared, ‘The working class has a great deal to learn about politics. It has the Conservatives and the Liberals to choose between. Heaven help us if it ever gets a political party of its own.’ She waited for an argument, but when none was forthcoming turned on Beth. ‘You’re surely not going out with your hair loose like that?’ Without waiting for an answer, she went on, ‘And I think you had better change into a skirt that covers your ankles… you look like a woman of the streets!’ Her piercing blue eyes raked Beth’s face. ‘Have you no shame?’
‘Leave the girl alone, Esther.’ Richard lowered his newspaper and peered over the top at Beth. ‘Times are changing, and the young ladies are getting bolder. There are pretty ankles to be seen everywhere these days.’ He smiled at Beth, and her heart went out to him. ‘And our Beth could never look like a “woman of the streets”.’
Incensed, his wife pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. ‘I might have expected you to defend her. Kindly concentrate on your newspaper and your politics, Richard, and leave her to me.’ Now she was addressing Beth. ‘Go upstairs at once. Change into something plainer… and pin your hair up.’
Beth gave no reply, other than to come away from the table and glance at her father, hoping he would once again intervene. But he had hidden himself behind his newspaper and deliberately shied away from meeting her gaze. A feeling of anger and frustration welled up inside her, as she realised the simple truth. He was afraid! Richard Ward, the man who was rapidly making a name for himself in the cut-throat world of property development, was afraid of his own wife. Suddenly, her anger was directed towards the woman who had brought him to this. ‘I have no intention of changing my dress,’ she said defiantly. ‘Nor will I pin up my hair. I’m not a child, so please don’t treat me like one.’ Less than a year ago, she would not have been so bold as to defend herself in such a way; but love had made her bold. Love, and fear, because she knew that if her mother had her way, Tyler would be sent packing and she would be walking down the aisle with Wilson Ryan. No! Not with Wilson Ryan… but with a chain of hat shops and a stepping stone by which the name of Esther Ward might become one of even greater consequence.
‘Not a child you say?’ The older woman met Beth’s anger with a coolness that surprised even herself. When she spoke, it was with astonishing restraint. ‘And, at twenty-four years of age, neither are you a woman.’ With a slow, cruel smile, she added quietly, ‘Do as you will. The consequences of your wilful and defiant nature will fall on your shoulders, not mine.’ She had not forgotten her meeting with Thomas Reynolds that very morning. The plan that was unfolding even now filled her with a sense of elation. Now, when Beth went from the room, she turned her head towards the departing figure, her whisper almost inaudible. ‘You won’t be so proud in a little while… either way I’ll be rid of you.’
‘What was that you said?’ Richard had long learned not to come between his wife and daughter. There was much that Beth did not know… please God, would never know. And there was much that both he and Beth owed to Esther. He dreaded the animosity between these two women, and was powerless to do anything about it. Right from the start it had always been there, as though the child sensed something. But maybe he was imagining things. How could she know? It was all so long ago.
‘I said nothing,’ his wife replied now.
‘Oh, then I must have been hearing things,’ he said, putting down his paper and staring at her with suspicious eyes. ‘But…’ ‘Yes?’ Her direct stare unnerved him. She meant it to.
‘Well, I thought… it’s just…’He looked towards the door. ‘Must you always antagonise her like that?’
‘But it is she who “antagonises” me, dear.’ Her smile was disarmingly sweet. ‘I’m only thinking of Beth, you know that. We don’t want her going astray, do we? We both know the consequences of such behaviour, don’t we, dear?’ The insinuation was unmistakable.
‘No.’ His answer was immediate. Her warning might have been prompted by the normal anxiety of a concerned mother, but its real meaning was not lost on him. He knew exactly what she meant. ‘You’re right, of course,’ he conceded. ‘As you say, it’s best if I leave her to you.’ He returned to the contents of his newspaper, but his thoughts remained with Beth. And his heart was heavy.
* * *
Beth saw Tyler before he saw her. As she clambered from the omnibus in Oxford Street, a distant clock was striking the hour of nine a.m., the time when she and Tyler had arranged to meet. It was a beautiful morning, and, being Saturday, the streets were already busy. Shoppers bedecked in fine gowns or pin-stripe suits, the men sporting tall black toppers and the women carrying their parasols, hurried on their way, attending to their own business and seeming unperturbed by the hive of activity all around. A milk-cart rattling with churns trundled along the street, and an old man sauntered by, carrying a wooden sandwich-board and humming the music hall version of ‘The Ratcatcher’s Daughter’. As Beth went to pass him, he doffed his round hat and made her a cheery, ‘Top o’ the mornin’ to yer, darlin’.’
‘And top o’ the mornin’ to you,’ she said, wondering with amusement what her mother would say if she heard her exchanging greetings with the old fellow.
Coming to the kerb edge, Beth waited patiently for the line of carriages to pass by. As yet, Tyler had not seen her. He was standing underneath the awning of the Princess Theatre, anxiously glancing from left to right then left again, and occasionally bowing his head to stare at his polished black boots. He made a strikingly handsome figure, with his tall lean physique. He was dressed in his best brown cord trousers with a long dark jacket, his thick shoulder-length black hair brushing the collar of his white shirt. Now, when he looked up to see her scurrying towards him, his strong white teeth flashed in a wonderful smile. ‘Beth! I was beginning to give up on you,’ he said, rushing forward and grasping her hand in his.
‘Shame on you then,’ she chided good-humouredly, her heart spilling over with happiness on seeing him. If they hadn’t been in the middle of a busy thoroughfare, she would have thrown herself into his arms there and then. Momentarily shocked by her own thoughts, she saw her mother’s face in her mind’s eye, and for the briefest moment her bubble of joy was burst.
‘Where to then?’ Tyler asked, holding out his arm while she slid her hand through the crook of it. It felt good to be linking her arm with his; to be just one of the many couples, strolling the pavement for all the world to see.
Glancing up to where his shirt was open at the neck and the bandage was clearly visible, Beth remembered how he might have been killed on that night. And, if he had been, it would have been her fault. But he was here, warm and alive, and somehow she felt everything would be all right. ‘To the market,’ she said, smiling up at him, her dark eyes sparkling.
‘The market it is, then,’ he declared. As they moved away, his mood grew serious. ‘Let’s make this a day to remember,’ he told her quietly. He might have explained how he had made up his mind to go north and make good: and afterwards, when he felt he could keep her in the style of a lady, would
come back to claim her as his wife. But he said nothing. There was time enough. The day was only just beginning, and they had to snatch what little happiness was left to them. He would tell her later, before it was ended.
Tyler could not know that Beth was also biding her time before confiding her own closely guarded secret to him. As they made their way out of Regent Street and on towards the market, she was both nervous and excited, as she wondered how he might receive the news that he was about to be a father.
* * *
‘Oh, Tyler, it’s been the most wonderful day of my life!’ Swinging round in her seat, Beth kissed him full on the mouth, to the amusement of some onlookers and the indignation of others. But Beth saw none of them. She only knew that she was wonderfully, incredibly happy. All around her in the gallery people were laughing and shouting at the antics on stage. Down below the ladies in the stalls and boxes were a sight to behold in their silks and satins, fur capes and glittering jewellery. This was gala night, with pretty lights and colourful stage displays, and now the flowers were being handed up… row upon row of extravagant bouquets given by admiring gentlemen in appreciation of their favourite actresses; and maybe with the hope of a rendezvous after the show.
Sliding his arm round her, and much to her delight, Tyler whispered in her ear, ‘I love you, Beth Ward.’ All day he had watched her at the market; when she stopped at every stall, picking up this and that and being excited by the hustle and bustle; then in the park where they sat on the grass, talking and laughing and sharing the enjoyment of children at play. Later they found a lovely little tea shop that served tiny white scones heavy with currants and accompanied by two round dishes, one filled with jam, the other laden with cream; and all served on a round silver tray with blue china teapot, matching sugar bowl and milk jug, and the daintiest cups and saucers. It had been Tyler’s intention to make this day a day for building memories… memories which would sustain him and Beth through the long weeks, maybe months, when they would be apart. Now, as he looked at her shining face, seeing how enthralled she was by the singer’s sad and beautiful melody as it floated up from the stage, he was filled with a crippling sadness. How could he tell her he was going away? That his mind was made up and would not be changed? How would he begin to explain? He did not know. All he knew was that he could not ask her to marry him when he was down and out, when there was no prospect for the future. He loved her too much for that. Oh, he knew she would try to brush aside his fears, tell him that it didn’t matter, that nothing mattered as long as they were together. But he knew better. For Beth’s sake more than his own, he would have to be strong.
‘Happy, are you?’ In the carriage on the homeward journey, Tyler put his arm around her and drew her close, his lips touching her face and a weight of sadness on him as he realised the time was drawing close when he must tell her.
‘I’ve never been happier in the whole of my life,’ she murmured, tilting her face up to his and looking deep into those green eyes that held so many dark shadows. She would have spoken again but he lowered his head, his mouth covering hers, sending deep unbearable sensations through her whole being. His nearness intoxicated her – the strong manly smell, the clean sharp perfume of a freshly laundered shirt, the touch of his skin… warm and slightly rough against her face. Another lifelong memory; another precious day with her love.
For a while they stayed huddled together in the corner of the seat, content in each other’s company, with the rest of the world outside and only the fleeting glimpses of street lamps through the fog to remind them that this could not last. Soon they must step out of the carriage and face the world that would drive them apart.
Presently he pulled away, holding her attention with his eyes and keeping his hands on her shoulders. ‘There’s something I have to tell you, Beth,’ he said quietly, ‘and I want you to hear me out before you say anything. Will you do that?’
‘Not if you’re going to tell me that we can’t see each other… that loving you will only bring me heartache.’
‘Please, Beth.’ All of his anguish betrayed itself in his voice. Hearing it, she feared the worst. She opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced when he shook his head, saying, ‘Hear me out, that’s all I ask, sweetheart. Just hear me out.’
Even before he revealed his intention to leave London, the tears were coursing down Beth’s face. Strange how she had known that the day had been too beautiful to last. In her heart she had sensed the unhappiness in him, and she was not surprised to hear the words issuing from his lips – gentle words, yet so harsh and cruel, tearing her apart, raising both anger and helplessness in her. ‘I have to go, Beth. You must know. I’m finished here… your mother has seen to that. There isn’t a company anywhere in London that will employ me now.’
‘Then we’ll move away!’
He shook his head. ‘No, Beth. I won’t ask that of you, and I won’t argue the point any more. I’ve decided to leave, find a job, and get a home together.’
‘You don’t want me?’ Her dark pain-filled eyes tore him apart.
‘Oh, you little fool! You blind little fool!’ With a heartfelt cry he crushed her to him, hiding his tears from her and cursing a cruel world. ‘You think I don’t want you!’ His voice was bitter and accusing. ‘I want nothing else on God’s earth.’ Angrily cupping her face between his hands, he looked at her a while, brushing away her tears with his thumbs and searching those uplifted dark eyes that he had filled with pain. ‘Think, Beth,’ he urged, ‘think what would happen if I stayed here. Things would only go from bad to worse. You would get hurt in the process. Your family would shun you. I would blame myself, and sooner or later… sooner or later, you would also come to blame me.’
‘No. You’re wrong.’ In that moment, Beth was tempted to tell him that she was carrying his child. She knew that Tyler was a man who would live up to his responsibilities, and would not turn away. With just a few words she could have him, hold him to her forever. But at what cost? It would be tantamount to blackmail. She did not want that. Instead, she appealed to him. ‘Take me with you, Tyler. If you go, there will be little point in life for me.’
Looking at her now, in the dim glow inside the carriage, with her eyes beseeching him, he was desperate. For one split second he almost relented. But then he envisaged the consequences of such weakness, and fear for her overrode his own emotions. ‘And then what?’ he asked her pointedly. ‘Take you to some back street alley? Find us a room where the rats run free and the damp flows down the walls? Find us a place where drunken men roll home at all hours?’ His voice rose with emotion. ‘And should I leave you there on your own all day while I’m trudging the streets looking for work?’ He had painted a black picture, but he knew from experience that the reality would be far worse. His resolve hardened. He shook his head. ‘No, Beth, I won’t take you with me. But I’ll come back for you, I swear to God. I’ll come back for you, as soon as ever I can.’
Seeing that he was determined, Beth shook his hands from her and faced him defiantly. ‘I have money. Enough to get us started at least.’
‘NO!’ The word exploded from him.
Ignoring his protest, she went on, ‘We’ll search until we find a decent room. And I can get a job. I’m a trained clerk, and between us we know enough about the construction industry to place ourselves well.’
‘Beth, there’s a depression on. It may be weeks before I can find work at all. But two things you can rely on. First, what money you have won’t last long. Secondly, employers who’ll take on a woman are few and far between. In fact, I ’ve never met one yet who would even consider it! Here, it’s your own father who employs you… you won’t have such an advantage elsewhere.’ He bowed his head, spent of emotion, his voice softer than a whisper as he told her, ‘I won’t rest a day until you’re with me, Beth. Trust me. For God’s sake, sweetheart, trust me.’
She gave no answer, but turned away to stare out of the window, her sad dark eyes following the jagged skyline. Now and the
n a trail of grey smoke drifted into the air, making wavy lines across the moon and blotting out its silver light. When she spoke, her voice was that of a stranger. ‘Is there no other way?’ she said. And when his answer came, soft and loving, ‘No, sweetheart. There is no other way,’ she choked back the tears to tell him, ‘Then I have to trust you, for I love you with all my heart.’ His hands slid over her shoulders and she turned towards him, nestling into his arms.
For the remainder of the journey, not another word was spoken. But there was no need for words. It was all in their hearts: Tyler already regretting the loneliness without her; and Beth keeping the secret of his child and feeling closer to him because of it. She prayed he would return before the child was born, and feared the time when her parents would learn the truth.
The carriage trundled to a halt. She was relieved to see that the house was in darkness. At least tonight there would be no questions, no awful scenes. Only a quietness in its own way just as dreadful. And the knowledge that Tyler would soon be gone, taking with him her joy. But not her reason for living, she reminded herself, for she had his seed warm and alive inside her. Until he returned, she would live only for the future that Tyler had promised. And she would learn to face the consequences of carrying his child, without shame, and without fear.
Having helped her from the carriage, he bent his head and kissed her, a long lingering kiss that held too much sadness. After a moment he released her, but kept her small hands in his strong fingers, concerned eyes searching her face. She also regarded him for a moment before saying in a remarkably cool voice, ‘Where will you go?’
Don’t Cry Alone Page 7