by Betty Annand
“I didn’t say a word,” Gladys answered with a cheeky look of innocence.
A few nights later, Andrew and Gladys visited Scots Inn. Gladys was pleased with the warm welcome she received, and throughout the evening Laura and Neil took turns visiting with her. They had purchased a little inn near Laura’s mother’s house in Scotland and planned on taking Pinky with them. “I’ve heard that there are those who are trying to do away with barmaids,” Laura said. “There are already a few places where it’s not allowed.”
While they were talking, Pinky began singing, and when she finished, Neil, who preferred the sound of Gladys’s warm, throaty voice to the sweet tone of Pinky’s, asked her to sing one of his favourites. Now that she was living the life of a lady, Gladys wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate, but when Andrew said he would also love to hear her, she agreed. Having learned the lyrics to the song “Twa Corbies” from one of the inn’s Scottish regulars, she sang it with a Scotch brogue.
There were tears in Neil’s eyes when the song ended. Time went by far too quickly, and by the time they bid their final farewells and arrived back at Millie’s, Dolly had been bathed, fed, and was sound asleep. “Why don’t you just leave her with me for the night?” Millie suggested. “Tomorrow is Sunday; I shall bring her home in the morning.”
There was a cab just a block from Millie’s, but as Gladys and Andrew approached it, they could see that both the horse and the driver, who was lying on the seat inside the cab, were sleeping. Gladys whispered to Andrew, “Let’s not disturb them; it’s lovely out tonight, and I’d much rather walk home.”
“A splendid idea, but I think I should wake the poor chap and have him pick me up at your place in about an hour—one way is enough for this old codger.”
“Ha, you know as well as I do, you are not the least bit codger-like.”
Andrew just grinned as he held out his arm for her to take. There was an added spring to his step as they made their way home.
__________
Andrew provided Gladys with a generous monthly stipend, and as the years passed, she gradually slipped into a life of near contentment. However, she often longed for Tom and the good times they had with Keith. There were also times when she became bored with the stability of her life. Luckily, she had her own horse and rig, so she could take Dolly and explore the countryside in order to rid herself of the doldrums.
On one of these occasions, she and Dolly came across a small caravan of gypsies who were camped in an open area beside a stream on the outskirts of the town. Gladys had never seen a gypsy before, and she would have liked to stop and talk to them, but having heard that some of them were thieves, she thought it wiser to continue on. As she drove by, she saw three colourfully painted, wooden wagons partially hidden amongst the trees. Two large horses that resembled old Knickers and a smaller one were hobbled in a nearby patch of grass. A large kettle of something steaming over a fire gave off a scent so tantalizing it made her mouth water and caused Dolly to remark, “Mama, that smell makes me very hungry.”
“We will be turning around and going home for dinner soon, dear,” Gladys replied. Then she laughed and added, “It’s making me hungry as well!”
As they were nearing the gypsies on their way home, Gladys had a twinge of trepidation when she saw one of the women standing in the middle of the road waving for her to stop. She knew that there were parents who frightened their children into obedience by threatening to give them up to the nomads if they didn’t behave, but as she reined to a stop, she could see that the woman appeared to be friendly. Coming alongside the buggy, the young woman held out some colourful cloths, and in a deep and lyrical voice with an attractive accent, she asked if Gladys would care to buy a pretty shawl.
There was nothing unusual about the woman’s plain garb, but the large amount of bangles and other jewellery she wore added an ambience of gaiety and beauty to her costume. She had a full head of black, curly hair that glistened as though recently anointed with oil, and her long, dark lashes added mystery to her smoky, black eyes. Gladys thought she was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, and as she studied her, she was reminded of someone, but could not think of who it was.
“See, lady, you look,” the gypsy said and held up a lovely paisley shawl. “Thees one very pretty for you. You buy? I sell cheap.”
“It is very beautiful, but I’m afraid I cannot afford it.”
“How much you have? I sell pretty damn cheap.”
Just as Gladys was about to answer, Dolly, who was beginning to wiggle about, interrupted, “Mama, I have to widdle.”
“You will just have to wait, dear. We will be home soon.”
“I can’t, Mama!”
“Here, lady, you hold. I take,” the woman said as she thrust the shawls at Gladys, and without giving her time to protest, lifted Dolly down from the buggy and ran with her into the woods.
Surprisingly, Gladys wasn’t alarmed. In some ways the gypsies reminded her of the residents in Old Nichol who earned a living in much the same manner. It gave her a feeling of kinship toward them, a feeling Andrew or Millie would never be able to understand. She didn’t feel the same way a few minutes later when she noticed the woman motioning for her to come; she couldn’t see Dolly. Panic was beginning to overtake her as she gave Tig a shake on the reins and drove the buggy into the field. “Where is my daughter?” she demanded in a shaky voice.
“Oh ho, no worry, lady, see, she very hungry!” the woman pointed to a group of five children, one of whom was Dolly, sitting in a circle on the ground eating off tin plates. “You come eat. Ees good,” the woman said as she reached up and pulled Gladys by the arm.
Since Gladys’s other arm held the shawls, she almost fell out of the buggy. “Oh no, no, I don’t want to bother you,” she stammered, although the food smelled delicious, and she was very hungry. Then, before she could protest, an older woman took hold of her and pulled her over to a bench beside a table where a plate of hot, sweet smelling stew, a clean wooden spoon, a large bun, and a steaming hot cup of tea was plunked down in front of her.
“Ees rabbeet. Veree good. You try!” the woman insisted.
Afraid of angering the woman, Gladys forced herself to take a mouthful. It tasted as good as it smelled, and she couldn’t resist eating it all. Dolly, now well fed and content, came and sat on the grass at her mother’s feet as she drank the unusual, but not unpleasant tasting, tea. As Gladys sipped her tea, she looked around and counted thirteen gypsies. One was a very old and shrivelled up woman who was sitting in a wicker armchair by the fire. She appeared to be no bigger than a six-year-old and was wrapped in a faded patchwork quilt. Her only visible feature was her face, which appeared more mummified than alive.
In comparison, the other adults looked exceptionally hearty. There were two middle-aged men, two middle-aged woman, two young men, two young women, one of whom was the beautiful girl who had stopped her on the road, and four children between the ages of twelve and six. Most of the men were dressed in full-sleeved shirts, leather vests, and wore sashes around their waists. The women wore dark skirts layered with other pieces of dark material, and dark blouses and shawls. All but the pretty girl wore kerchiefs on their heads. The children were dressed similarly to most children from lower class families. The girls were blissfully free of corsets, unlike the young ladies from the upper echelon of society, who began wearing them by the young age of six in order to ensure an hourglass figure. Gladys found herself envious of these people for their lack of conformity.
Once she had finished her tea, she felt obliged to buy a shawl. She chose a lovely paisley one, paid for it, and was just about to leave when a tall, dark-skinned man wearing earrings and a brightly coloured kerchief around his neck, approached her, and in a deep and threatening sounding voice, ordered her to sit. She had no option but to obey. Holding Dolly close to her, she tried not to tremble. The man grinned, showing a huge
set of snow white teeth that made Dolly think of the words, “The better to eat you with, my dear,” and then he abruptly turned and called out, “Maria, Fernando, ‘Algreas de Cadiz’ for the lady!”
One of the young men picked up a guitar and started strumming as the pretty woman began to dance, twirling around gracefully while keeping in time to the music with a tambourine. Soon, one of the men joined her and the other gypsies began clapping their hands loudly and calling out, “Ole!” Someone called out, “Uaa,” and everyone laughed. When the dance was over, the performers bowed, and Gladys and Dolly replied by clapping enthusiastically.
When she finished her dance, the young woman walked toward Gladys and it was then that Gladys figured out who she resembled. Without thinking, she blurted out, “Esmeralda.”
“Eh?” the girl asked.
“Oh, I am sorry. It’s just that you remind me so much of a beautiful lady in a story I once read.”
“Esmeralda?”
“Yes. And she had a very smart pet goat.”
“My name ees Maria, and you see, I ’ave no goat, but I ’ave monkey.”
Dolly’s eyes widened and she asked, “Really? A real live monkey?”
“Yes, yes, a real monkey. You want to see heem?” Without waiting for Dolly’s answer she called out, “Fernando, bring Topio.” The young guitarist waved, then went into one of the wagons and came out with a monkey on his shoulder. Fernando had the monkey perform a few tricks, which delighted Dolly, and she clapped her hands with approval. Topio, a seasoned performer, showed his appreciation by taking off his tasselled, cone-shaped fez and bowing.
__________
It was dusk by the time Gladys left her rig at Bob Hennessy’s stable, and she and Dolly walked the short distance home. Before they left the camp, they learned that the gypsies would be putting on a show in three days’ time and they wanted Gladys and Dolly to be sure to come and see it. The next day when they went to visit Millie, they were barely inside her door when Dolly exclaimed, “Auntie Millie, Auntie Millie, the gypsies have a monkey! His name is Topio, and he sat right up here on my shoulder.”
“Gypsies?” Millie cried.
“Oh yes, Auntie! They were frightfully nice, and even gave us food. I sat on the grass and ate mine with the other children.”
“My goodness! Gladys, what is this about gypsies?”
As Gladys explained, Millie uttered small gasps after each detail. Then she began shaking her head and saying, “Oh my, oh my,” until Dolly shook her arm.
“Aunt Millie, are you angry with us?”
“No, darling, I was just thinking. I wonder if you would like to look through these lovely buttons that just came in with my last shipment while your mother and I go in the back and make a cup of tea?”
“But, Auntie, I want to tell you what Topio did. It was oh so clever, Auntie.”
“Perhaps later, dear, but now I want to make your mommy a cup of tea. I want you to look after the shop for me, and if someone comes in, I want you to be very grown up and ask them to have a seat, then come and fetch me. Do you think you could do that?”
“Of course, Auntie, I shall be most capea—cape aba.”
“Capable, darling, and I know you shall be.”
As soon as they were in the back of the shop, Millie started scolding Gladys, “What on earth were you thinking about, taking Dolly into a gypsy camp?”
“They were kind to us, Millie. I don’t see why you’re so upset with me.”
“And what if they weren’t nice to you? What could you have done about it then, all alone out there?”
“I suppose you are right, but I really had no choice, Millie. The girl took Dolly away before I could stop her.”
“Well it is over with now, thank goodness. You had better not mention this to Andrew when he returns.”
“They’re putting on a show the day after tomorrow, Millie, and Dolly and I want you to come with us to see it. Will you come?”
“Certainly not, and you had better not go either if you value your status in this town.”
“But it’s just entertainment. Actually, Millie, it is just show business. Don’t tell me you object to that.”
“That’s not fair!”
Just then the bell sounded and a minute later, Dolly called out, “Auntie Millie, Lady Sorenson is here.” Millie hurried into the shop, but before she had a chance to greet Lady Sorenson, Dolly asked her ladyship if she was taking her children to the gypsy show.
Millie, hoping to change the subject before Lady Sorenson realized what Dolly was talking about, said, “I have your suit ready for a fitting, Lady Sorenson; shall we try it on?”
Dolly thought Millie mustn’t have heard her asking Lady Sorenson a question, and she spoke up and said, “But Auntie, I was just asking—”
Millie cut her off, “Not now, Dolly, Lady Sorenson wants to see if her new suit fits her. Besides, you haven’t finished going through those buttons.”
“I am certain a few minutes will not make my suit fit any better, Mildred, and I do want to hear all about these gypsies,” Lady Sorenson insisted. “Now, Dolly love, what show is this you are talking about?” By this time Gladys had joined them and gave a full report. When she was finished, Lady Madeline surprised them all by declaring, “Oh how exciting! I have a friend in London who told me that if the gypsies ever came to Dover to be sure to visit them. They have the best medicine for quite a few ailments, especially those to do with the stomach.
“And I should think you would enjoy seeing their wares, Millie. They sell lovely beaded purses and jewellery that would enhance the beautiful evening gowns you create. We must all go together. Cedric will escort us. Now, when did you say they are performing, Gladys?” Gladys grinned smugly at Millie before answering.
Two mornings later, the five Sorensons arrived in one of their biggest buggies to pick up Gladys, Dolly, and Millie and take them to the show. Word that Lord Sorenson and his family intended to be at the gypsy camp had quickly spread around town, deeming it an appropriate act.
The camp was so transformed in the three days since Gladys and Dolly’s first visit, that they hardly recognized it. The three wagons, two stalls, and a small tent were set out in a semicircle and bordered a cleared area about fifty feet in diameter. Placed in the middle of the circle was a square wooden platform along with two small wooden benches. In one of the stalls, a woman was selling a variety of items: jewellery, shawls, handwoven table covers, cloth dolls, wooden toys, and pretty embroidered blouses. The man in the other stall was selling herbal remedies guaranteed to cure every sort of human or animal ailment along with a selection of creams and potions that were assured to bring roses to the cheeks and elevate sagging jowls.
A sign on the outside of the small tent advertised fortune telling. Heavy velvet curtains hung over the entrance and separated the fortune teller from a line-up of hopeful young ladies all waiting to hear if their dreams of finding a rich and handsome husband would come true. As the curtains parted and a smiling young lady exited the tent, Gladys was amazed to see that the fortune teller was none other than the little mummy-like gypsy she had seen sitting in the wicker chair by the fire.
Days later, she tried to explain to Andrew how the old lady had looked at her in the few seconds the curtains were open. “I couldn’t even tell you what she was wearing since I was unable to look at anything but her eyes. I could feel those beady little eyes piercing through mine and looking deep into my soul; eyes so all-knowing that I could tell she could see into my past and knew what awaits me in the future. I didn’t have a chance to hear her predictions though, since the dancing began soon after. I don’t think I would have been brave enough to hear what she had to say anyway.”
The dancers and the guitar player were dressed in beautiful costumes, and as the music and dancing began, Lady Sorenson, who had once visited Spain and knew the names of many of
the songs and dances, shared her knowledge with Gladys and Millie. When Maria and a partner danced the tango, her Ladyship explained that the music originated in the city of Granada and was a flamenco song. As the dances continued, it became more and more difficult to believe that such talented artists could belong to a tribe that most Brits considered unfit to live in their civilized part of the world.
As they danced the various flamencos, stamping their feet, clapping their hands, and moving their bodies to the beat of the guitar, one could see that it was done with both dignity and pride. When the dancing was finished, Fernando, with Topio on his shoulder, went around the spectators with a tin cup, to collect gratuities. When he finished his rounds, he went over and put his big floppy hat down on the stage along with Topio. Then he dumped the coins out of the cup and put them back in one by one as he counted them aloud. Satisfied with the amount, he walked around and bowed to all the spectators.
While Fernando’s back was turned, Topio reached into the cup, took out a coin, held it up for everyone to see before putting it into a pocket in his little red vest. Then he hid underneath Fernando’s hat. When the adults and the children began giggling, Fernando pretended to be puzzled and scratching his head, he asked a little boy why he was laughing. The boy pointed toward the stage.
Fernando went over and held up the cup and when the little lad shook his head, he dumped out the money once more and counted it again ending with one less. “Thief! Thief!” he shouted. “Who has stolen my money?” He then went from child to child asking, “Was it you? Are you a thief?” All the children shook their heads and pointed toward the stage where the hat had begun sliding across the stage. But when Fernando turned around, the hat was still. Every time he turned and asked another member of the audience if they took the coin, the hat moved farther and farther across the stage, causing loud bouts of laughter.
Finally, Fernando noticed that the hat was sitting on the other side of the stage and shook his head knowingly. “Ah ha, Topio!” he cried. He slowly tiptoed up to the hat, and with a smile of satisfaction, he called out, “I ’ave you now, you leetle thief!” He grabbed the hat and lifted it up high. Both he and his audience were amazed when they saw that Topio was gone. Putting the hat back down, Fernando once more walked around the crowd asking if anyone knew where the monkey went, and when no one answered, he shrugged his shoulders, picked up his hat, put it on his head, and with a sad expression, announced, “My Topio, he ’as stolen my money and run away.”