Free Gypsy by Lesley Pearse

use it.’
    There weren’t words to describe how disgusting she found sluicing out those napkins. She gagged and retched, hardly daring to breathe, they smelled so bad. She wondered how nurses managed to cope with such things day after day, and if she could ever get used to it and not mind any more.
    But she’d told herself as she walked home that the horrible part only lasted some twenty minutes at most, which left four hours, forty minutes of pleasant duties. She didn’t mind rinsing and putting the clean linen through the mangle. Hanging it up to dry out in the yard was lovely. And she’d spent the last hour darning Mr Edward’s socks while she sat in the kitchen chatting to Mrs Cray, the cook, and Kathleen, the soft-spoken Irish maid. What’s more, she’d had a huge slice of delicious meat pie for her dinner, and Mrs Cray had given her a couple of pasties to bring home.
    ‘You can get used to anything in time,’ Mrs Craven said philosophically. ‘And I loved having Molly, so it’s good for both of us.’
    Mrs Craven was right. Beth found she did get used to washing those napkins. Or maybe it was just that the good parts of the job heavily outweighed the bad. It was nice to get out twice a week, to have other people to talk to, and to know she was helping Sam keep things going.
    She didn’t see much of Mr Edward. He had usually left for his office around the time she arrived, but on the odd occasion she ran into him she found him pleasant enough. He was tall and slender, with thinning sandy hair and a military-style moustache, at least ten years older than his wife. He struck Beth as a studious, quiet man who took life very seriously.
    Mrs Langworthy was quite the opposite. She was so kind and merry, and always found time to come and find Beth for a little chat. She loved to hear about Molly, and it was clear she wished she had a child. She had a wonderful ability to hold her position as the mistress of the house yet empathize with those who worked for her. Beth understood why Mrs Bruce was so devoted to her, and she resolved that if ever she found herself in a position to have servants, she would model herself on this admirable woman.
    It seemed as if Sam’s and Beth’s fortunes had finally turned, for just a week later they found two new lodgers, Ernest and Peter, both respectable young men who worked for an insurance company and were friends.
    Sam thought it better for Beth that the lodgers should have the two rooms upstairs and so he moved down to the parlour. Right from their first night the young men proved to be ideal lodgers, polite, tidy and sensitive towards Beth and Molly.
    They were both keen cyclists, and every Sunday they went out with a cycling club for jaunts into the countryside. They ate whatever Beth put in front of them, they were grateful she did their washing, and neither of them drank. Sam enjoyed their company, and often in the evenings the four of them played cards together. Sometimes they begged Beth to play her fiddle and clapped their hands and tapped their feet to accompany her. Those were the best nights of all because for a couple of hours all her cares fell away with the music and she felt as free and untroubled as a bird.
    It seemed to Beth, too, that Sam was actually growing fond of Molly at last. Sometimes, if he came in from work and she was sitting on the floor, he’d bend down and pat her head, as Ernest and Peter often did. Beth didn’t say anything — she was sure that if she did remark on it he would never do it again — but she’d watch him out of the corner of her eye and note that he was playing peekaboo with Molly, or tickling her to make her laugh.
    One evening in August after Beth had put Molly to bed, she’d gone across to see Mrs Craven for a few minutes and came back to find Sam holding the little girl in his arms.
    ‘She woke up crying,’ he said defensively. ‘I thought she might have a tummy ache.’
    The following day when she had to go to Falkner