cold. The thought of another two or three months of winter in such an icy workplace filled him with dread. Beth reasoned that if she told him that their mother was likely to die and he’d single-handedly have to support Beth and Molly, he might just be tempted to take to his heels and run off.
However, on Sunday evening, when Sam had been home all day observing the frantic activity, Beth could see by his anxious expression that he had finally realized how serious things were.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked Beth reproachfully as she sat cuddling Molly.
‘You had enough to worry about,’ she said truthfully. ‘Besides, I hoped she might improve.’
The little bell Beth had put by their mother’s bedside so she could call if she needed anything, tinkled. Beth got up and went into the bedroom with Molly still in her arms.
It was very hot and stuffy, and the unpleasant smell had become even stronger.
‘A drink, Mama?’ Beth asked with her eyes averted from her mother’s face. It hurt to look at her, for the flesh on her face seemed to have sunk back into her bones and her eyes stood out like those of a fish on a fishmonger’s slab.
‘No. Get Sam, I must speak to you both,’ she replied, her voice a mere croaky whisper.
Sam came in immediately, his nose wrinkling at the smell.
‘Come closer,’ their mother whispered. ‘It hurts to speak now.’
Brother and sister edged closer to the bed, Beth holding Molly tightly against her chest. ‘What is it, Mama?’ Sam asked, his voice shaking.
‘I have something bad to tell you,’ Alice said. ‘I know I am dying but I can’t go with it on my conscience.’
Sam started to say she wasn’t going to die and anyway, she was pure and good, but she waved her hand feebly to stop him. ‘I’m not a good woman,’ she said, her voice faltering and rasping. ‘Your father killed himself because of what I did.’
Sam looked sideways at Beth questioningly. His sister shrugged, thinking their mother was just rambling with the fever.
‘There was another man. Your father discovered it a few weeks before he took his life. He said he would forgive me if I made a pledge that I would never see the man again.’ She broke off, coughing weakly. Neither Beth nor Sam moved to help her drink.
‘I made that pledge,’ she went on as the coughing abated. ‘But I couldn’t stick to it and continued to see the man when I could get away. The last time I saw him was the morning of the day Frank hanged himself.’
Beth was stunned. ‘How could you?’ she burst out.
‘You, you…’ Sam exclaimed, his face turning red with anger and disgust. ‘You whore!’
‘There is nothing you can say which will make me feel worse than I do,’ Alice rasped out. ‘I betrayed your father and I am responsible for his death. He was a good man, too good for me.’
‘And Molly? Who is her father?’ Beth shouted.
‘The other man,’ her mother said, closing her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to see her children’s angry faces. ‘Look in the drawer where I keep my stockings,’ she said. ‘A note I found that night, Frank had tucked it under my pillow.’
Sam opened the small top drawer in the dressing table and rummaged for a moment or two, then pulled out a sheet of writing paper. He took it over to the gaslight to read it.
‘What does it say?’ Beth asked.
Dear Alice , Sam read.
I have known for some time that you are still seeing your lover. By the time you find this I will be gone and you will be free to go with this man you care for more than me. All I ask is that you wait a respectable time after my death before taking up with him, for our children’s sake.
I loved you, I’m sorry that wasn’t enough.
Frank.
Beth had begun to cry as Sam read the note. She could imagine her quiet, gentle father penning it down in the shop and coming up here at teatime to slip it under the pillow. Even with a broken heart he hadn’t resorted to anger or spite, but had carried on
However, on Sunday evening, when Sam had been home all day observing the frantic activity, Beth could see by his anxious expression that he had finally realized how serious things were.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asked Beth reproachfully as she sat cuddling Molly.
‘You had enough to worry about,’ she said truthfully. ‘Besides, I hoped she might improve.’
The little bell Beth had put by their mother’s bedside so she could call if she needed anything, tinkled. Beth got up and went into the bedroom with Molly still in her arms.
It was very hot and stuffy, and the unpleasant smell had become even stronger.
‘A drink, Mama?’ Beth asked with her eyes averted from her mother’s face. It hurt to look at her, for the flesh on her face seemed to have sunk back into her bones and her eyes stood out like those of a fish on a fishmonger’s slab.
‘No. Get Sam, I must speak to you both,’ she replied, her voice a mere croaky whisper.
Sam came in immediately, his nose wrinkling at the smell.
‘Come closer,’ their mother whispered. ‘It hurts to speak now.’
Brother and sister edged closer to the bed, Beth holding Molly tightly against her chest. ‘What is it, Mama?’ Sam asked, his voice shaking.
‘I have something bad to tell you,’ Alice said. ‘I know I am dying but I can’t go with it on my conscience.’
Sam started to say she wasn’t going to die and anyway, she was pure and good, but she waved her hand feebly to stop him. ‘I’m not a good woman,’ she said, her voice faltering and rasping. ‘Your father killed himself because of what I did.’
Sam looked sideways at Beth questioningly. His sister shrugged, thinking their mother was just rambling with the fever.
‘There was another man. Your father discovered it a few weeks before he took his life. He said he would forgive me if I made a pledge that I would never see the man again.’ She broke off, coughing weakly. Neither Beth nor Sam moved to help her drink.
‘I made that pledge,’ she went on as the coughing abated. ‘But I couldn’t stick to it and continued to see the man when I could get away. The last time I saw him was the morning of the day Frank hanged himself.’
Beth was stunned. ‘How could you?’ she burst out.
‘You, you…’ Sam exclaimed, his face turning red with anger and disgust. ‘You whore!’
‘There is nothing you can say which will make me feel worse than I do,’ Alice rasped out. ‘I betrayed your father and I am responsible for his death. He was a good man, too good for me.’
‘And Molly? Who is her father?’ Beth shouted.
‘The other man,’ her mother said, closing her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to see her children’s angry faces. ‘Look in the drawer where I keep my stockings,’ she said. ‘A note I found that night, Frank had tucked it under my pillow.’
Sam opened the small top drawer in the dressing table and rummaged for a moment or two, then pulled out a sheet of writing paper. He took it over to the gaslight to read it.
‘What does it say?’ Beth asked.
Dear Alice , Sam read.
I have known for some time that you are still seeing your lover. By the time you find this I will be gone and you will be free to go with this man you care for more than me. All I ask is that you wait a respectable time after my death before taking up with him, for our children’s sake.
I loved you, I’m sorry that wasn’t enough.
Frank.
Beth had begun to cry as Sam read the note. She could imagine her quiet, gentle father penning it down in the shop and coming up here at teatime to slip it under the pillow. Even with a broken heart he hadn’t resorted to anger or spite, but had carried on
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