The Gypsy and the Widow (2 page)

***

When they got to her house, Joanna opened the door and turned to take the basket from Tem.

Nash shouted to the other children, “Come in and play with me, come on!” He ran inside but the others stopped at the door and then backed away.

“Please,” Joanna said, “come in and play.” How good it would be for her lonely son to have some company. How good it would feel to have laughter and movement and children’s voices in the house.

“No, wait,” Tem told them. He turned to her and said, “These children have never been inside a house; they might not know what is required in those circumstances. I fear—”

“Well, I shall teach them!” she said happily. “Come, children.” She ushered them inside. “I will bring them to the field when they tire of being here,” she called to Tem as she glanced back at him. He did not look pleased.

Chapter Two

“You let the children—all the children—go into a house, the house of that
Gadji
?” Lala hissed at her brother. “Tem, how could you allow this?”

Tem shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not quite sure—they went inside before I could object. I am sure they will be fine.”

“How can you know that? The
Gadje
have stolen
Romanichal
children before.” Lala dashed the tears out of eyes. The others gathered about them. Ignoring the scythes and rakes lying nearby.

“My
Baba’s
brother was stolen and made into a slave,” said an old man. The
Gadje
used to do that and there was nothing anyone could do about it.”

“But truly, the children are in good hands,” Tem said. “This
rawni
has only one child and he is lonely. She was very happy to have our children come into her house so the boy would have company.”

“It is not for to us to concern ourselves with the problems of the
Gadje.
Rather we must look always to protect ourselves from them,” said the
rom baro,
the leader of their
vista,
their
clan. “But enough talking. Look, Sir Edward comes riding fast to make sure we lazy Gypsies are working hard, so get to work everyone, before he decides to buy a machine to replace us. After he goes, Tem, you must go and fetch the children.”

Every
Romanichal
was hard at work when the horse pulled up. The
rom baro
tipped his cap.

“Don’t pretend you were working,” Sir Edward said loudly. “I saw that you were not.”

“Sir,” said the
rom baro
, “we have come back from dinner and had to plan the best way to bring the hay in from this field to where we will stack it. Once everyone knew his place, we began work.”

“You are a bunch of dirty, lazy thieves is what you are. If the hay from this field is not cut and set to dry by morning, I shall dock your pay for this day and yesterday.”

“But, sir, that is impossible. Even if we had twice the men…”

“I shall come by in the morning to see that it has been done.” He rode off without another word.

“I have heard that before,” said the old man. “It is the trick the
Gadje
use to make us work into the night.”

“Yes,” said the
rom baro
, “and it works because he knows we must have that money.”

“Look, he goes to the
rawni’s
house,” said Lala. “What is he going to do to our children?”

“Lala, if there were but one child I would fear, but there are seven of them,” the
rom baro
said. “As we work we will keep watch and make sure he does not leave with any child. If he does, I have my knife and so does Tem.”

“We will be hanged,” cried one of the women.

“The
rawni
is a good woman,” said Tem.

“That may be,” Lala said, “but Sir Edward is not a good man.”

***

When they first came inside, the children whispered to each other in their strange language and looked about rather fearfully until Nash assumed the role of guide, leading them around, pointing things out.

“That is a painting of my grandfather who lives in London and does not care for small children, and that pitcher has water in it, but we must not touch it for it might break. Oh, and look, this is the book I am learning to read. Shall I read to you from it?”

The children all sat down on the floor while Nash, standing, read what he could and made up what he could not read, showing the pictures to his rapt audience.

The children sat or lay on the floor, every one of them staring at Nash. After a while they began to squirm and murmur to one another. Some crept closer and began to touch and pull at the book until a page tore and Nash began to cry.

“Children, children,” Joanna cried, “you must be gentle with books.” She wasn’t sure they understood but they let her take the book. One of the girls patted Nash on the back.

“Let us play Ring a Ring o’ Roses.” Joanna knew Nash loved this game and hoped it would cheer him up. “Do you know this game?” The children shook their heads so she explained and added, “But you must have a care for the objects on the tables.”

Noah spoke loudly to the others, as though translating what she said. They all nodded, their faces unsmiling and joined hands as Joanna and Nash sang, “A ring, a ring o’ roses, a pocket full o’posies. Atishoo atishoo we all fall down.” They circled about and everyone fell laughing, even Joanna, and pretended to sneeze. The children wanted to play again and again and soon they were singing along loudly. The game became more raucous, the sneezing more violent, the falling down more dramatic.

Joanna was enjoying herself so thoroughly that she ignored the knock on the door, and the sound of Mrs. Peters hurrying to answer it.

She became aware of her visitor when, with a loud “atishoo,” she fell to the ground and found herself practically sitting on Sir Edward’s foot.

She looked up first at his horrified face and then at Mrs. Peters, who stood near him looking at Joanna with narrowed eyes.

“My God, Joanna, what are you doing?” Sir Edward exclaimed. Then he roared, “Quiet, all of you, and stand up this instant.” The children grew quiet. Eleanor took Noah’s hand.

Sit Edward reached down to help Joanna to her feet.

“What are Gypsies doing here?”

“I invited them in to keep Nash company,” Joanna retorted. “He is too much alone with no childish friends.”

“Friends? Mrs. Daniels, these…these heathens are most unsuitable companions for your son!”

“Out,” he roared at the children. “Get out, you dirty, thieving brats.”

Joanna put a restraining hand on his. “Sir Edward, I invited them inside as my guests. It is not for you to tell them to leave, nor is it for you to speak thus to my guests, whatever their age. I promised to return them to their parents when they were ready to leave, which I see now they are because of your unwarranted abusiveness.”

“If you won’t tell them to leave, I’ll get them out.” He slapped his boot with his riding crop.

“You most certainly will not! They are my guests.”

“You’d best check their pockets before they go. Look, they knocked over that chair. They are no better than savages.”

“They are children playing, but you have spoiled their game.”

The children huddled in a corner, the bigger ones holding the smaller, regarding Joanna and Sir Edward with wide eyes.

“You must excuse me, sir,” she said. “I shall return them to their parents now.

“Come children,” she said, taking the smallest boy’s hand in one of hers as Eleanor slipped her little hand into the other. Nash, will you come with me?” He nodded as a single tear coursed down his cheek

“I shall wait here for you,” Sir Edward said. “We must discuss this unfortunate incident.”

***

With the two smallest children, Eleanor and a slightly older boy, holding her hands and Nash and the bigger children trailing behind her, Joanna approached the field where the Gypsies worked. The older children ran into the field while at the same time a woman came running toward her. The little boy let go of Joanna’s hand and the woman swept him up into her arms, glared at Joanna, and turned and walked quickly away, holding the boy tightly to her. Joanna saw another woman on her knees holding two children as though she had not expected to see them again while a man stood beside them, stroking their heads.

“
Dadro
!
Dadro
!” She could hear Tem’s two elder children calling and she watched as they flung themselves at him, laughing and chattering. Eleanor stayed, holding Joanna’s hand with her small, sticky one and a thumb in her mouth. Nash took hold of his mother’s free hand and squeezed it hard as he watched Noah and Florica with their father.

She glanced down at him and was pained to see the look of longing on his face as he watched Tem hugging and talking with his children.

I must marry soon
.
I must find a father for Nash.

Tem strode up to her and she smiled at him. He looked at her, unsmiling. Once again she could not read his expression.

“Were people worried?” she asked. “Did I keep the children too long?”

He sighed. “Yes, the parents were worried. We Gypsies have in the past had our children stolen from us. I do not mean to offend you, but it is difficult for us to trust an English person.”

“But I…”She did not know what to say. “I am sorry if I caused any concern. I thought only of my son and did not properly consider my actions.”

“Well,” he said and smiled, “I see your house is still standing in spite of all those children.”

She laughed. “I enjoyed their presence as much as Nash did. I hope that some at least will come again.”

“Perhaps Nash may play in the fields with our children.”

“Yes,” Nash broke in. “Yes, Mother, may I go now and play in the field?”

“Oh. No…” Someone had told her that Gypsies steal children. Surely it was not true, but… No, she could not take any risk with Nash.

No, not today. I will read to you when we get home.”

“But Sir Edward is there.”

“Oh, yes, I had forgotten. I will read when he leaves.”

“I hate him,” said the boy, “and I want to stay out here.”

Tem looked at her. “You are feeling what the mothers here felt when their children were with you. But just as you do not, so we do not steal children. We have enough of our own to love and care for.” He shrugged slightly. “We all inhabit this earth together, and yet we fear any who are different from ourselves.”

Joanna nodded, not knowing how to respond to this.

He put out his hand for Eleanor, but the little girl shook her head and held more tightly onto Joanna’s, turning away and taking her thumb from her mouth to clutch at the skirt of Joanna’s dress.

“Well,” he said, “it appears that you have won my daughter’s heart.”

“And she mine, though I think it is the sweet I gave her that won her heart.”

As he stepped closer to take the little girl—willing now—into his arms, Joanna realized that his physical proximity was enough to stir up feelings she had buried years ago. The feeling of longing, of yearning to be held by a man, of wishing to be loved and desired by a man, and—she felt the heat on her cheeks—of her own desire for a man.

***

“My dear Mrs. Daniels, as a friend I must remind you that you must find more suitable companions for your son. God knows what bad habits Nash could pick up from spending time with such as you had here.”

“I thank you for your concern, Sir Edward, but it is up to me to choose my son’s playmates.”

“My dear, you are alone in the world, and it is the duty of a family friend such as myself to protect you from making unfortunate decisions about your son or yourself.”

“I truly appreciate your concern and all the efforts you have made on my behalf in the past, but I think—”

“You know that I have your best interests at heart always,” he said, smiling. “I have lived longer than you and been more in the world, so I believe I understand these things better than you who are still young and unworldly.”

To her surprise he rose and came to where she sat and put a hand on her shoulder. “You must know something of my feelings toward you, my dear. And I flatter myself that they are returned. We must of course wait an appropriate amount of time after the sad death of your husband. But after that, depend on it; I shall apply for your hand.” He bowed, turned, and left the room.

Joanna sat unmoving for some time. For years now she had thought of Sir Edward as a friend on whom she could depend. He had always been most kind and generous. But this she had not foreseen. He wanted to marry her.

She rose and went to the window and watched him mount his fine horse and canter away.

He was not a young man, it was true, but as she was close to penniless, she would not have much choice of husbands and she could do far worse than Sir Edward. He was kindly disposed to her and to Nash. He had the means to care for them properly, and he had already done so much for her.

Yes, he had been harsh in the matter of the children and had infuriated her. But he was merely trying to look out for her, trying to keep her and Nash from possible harm. He was not the only one who spoke ill of the Gypsies. But then… She thought of Tem’s words, that people feared others who were different from themselves. She shrugged as Tem had. Yes, it was so and it was a pity.

Could it be that Sir Edward was in the right? Should she keep her son and herself from those who were different? If she did as he wished, she and Nash would never mingle with those Sir Edward considered his social inferiors. The thought was unpleasant, but if she accepted his offer, Nash would have a father.

Unbidden, the image of Tem Lovell holding Nash in the air and turning about as the boy shrieked with joy came into her mind. She could not imagine Sir Edward playing with Nash that way. He would be a stern and rather cold father. That is what fathers were supposed to be, were they not? That is how her own father had been. And the Gypsies—well, they were different. A strange people who could fix the pots and pans and bring in the hay once a year. And, she’d been told, they sang and danced for money and told fortunes too.

She shook her head to get thoughts of Tem Lovell out of her mind. She would think instead of how happy she and Nash would be to have a decent man in their life, and Sir Edward would be that man.