THE OTHER SIDE

PART THREE

Beth sought sound financial advice. She bought a small Georgian style house for herself and her aunt within the smarter area of Chelsea. Her invested assets would

Profit and afford her a wealthy standard of living. With a heavy heart she resigned

from her job at the Department Store. Her conscience forbade her to keep a job she didn’t financially require. The position could be filled by another who genuinely needed it to put food on the table and anyway it was unacceptable for women of high financial standing to ‘earn their keep’.

Her days were filled socializing within the grander houses of the Chelsea elite, sometimes accompanied by Millie if she wished to join her. The enormity of its lifestyle; homes adorned with Chandeliers, pure velvet drapes and  cut class crystal drinking vessels overflowing at luncheons/ dinner/cocktail parties. The social learning curve of etiquette was a steep one but one she found curious albeit a tad pretentious.  If in doubt she could rely on her aunt for guidance.

She gave little away for she had sworn on oath to protect the anonyminity of her father.

When asked about her background she said she was he daughter of a city banker, went to boarding school and was finally set up by her parents in London with her aunt. Her father and mother had moved to New York as he had landed a career move he couldn’t refuse and Beth wished to stay in London. The usual ‘tittle tattle’ and social climbing irritated Beth though at times she felt an undercurrent of belittlement from them. She hadn’t travelled the world on cruise liners or couldn’t name drop the rich and famous. She pondered, if only they knew her true circumstances, yet they never would. In fact she had little in common apart from her wealth and the odd shopping trip to Harrods. She had seen the other side of life and out of choice was modest with her expenditures. Perhaps

she would fill some time traveling; see the world.

Early one morning as she pulled open the drapes a young paper boy with a bicycle on the pavement below caught her eye. It brought back memories of the small boy in tatters chewing a crust, the stray hungry dog and the rancid smell of the dirty street.  Why?, she asked herself, are some born into such poverty whilst the rich squandered so much in their quest for superiorship and possessions?

Beth saw the raw light of reality. She had a calling, had to help the less fortunate. She had fallen on good luck by birthright but she had an affinity with them, she knew how it was, seen it and lived amongst it.

She discussed it with Milly though her aunt knew Beth was determined and was happy to support her.

Beth bought a ‘run down’ unused hall, had it renovated and with Milly’s help opened a

Soup kitchen and rest room. Its visitors and regulars were hungry, homeless, shabby, unclean and unshaven.  Every face was ‘well worn’ and told a story.

Sam a regular shuffled in one night, his shoes worn and the cardboard lining them disintegrating. Beth stared in disbelief and turned to her aunt. “We need warm blankets,

and spare clothing”.  Milly took off the old man’s shoes “Let’s see what we can do with these to patch them up. There’s plenty of moneyed folk around these parts who throw out decent clothing, such a waste, I’ll put word out”.

Beth looked forward to opening the soup kitchen at night. It gave her purpose and she had found her vocation. During the day she would sometimes bake, not only did she find it relaxing but it was a luxury for those who dropped in for some warm food later.

It was a Monday night and a bitter mid winter chill had taken hold. “We’ll be busy tonight lass”, Millie said as she turned on the hot food burners. The door swung open.

Tom, a regular staggered through the door. He was of quiet nature, well spoken, polite and a private individual.  He never gave rhyme nor reason for his misfortune. Beth saw him sway. “Steady on Tom, a bit too much tonight? Unusual for you”.  He fell to the floor. As she went to his aid she realized he was gravely ill. “Call a doctor, something’s wrong. Could be a heart attack or pneumonia”.  She picked up his rucksack. “I don’t like going through his possessions but I need to see if he has any contacts or family”.  She found a small wallet and opened it. It contained a small tatty card embossed with a crest.

The name was familiar; Lord Thomas Gainsborough. A faded  photo fell out into Beth’s hand.. As she looked closer the image became familiar; a young beautiful woman…………her mother!!!!!! She turned around and gazed into the eyes of her father.