Crowley Aleister - Tiger woman : my story

TIGER WOMAN

[Vaughan & Freeman.

TIGER WOMAN

My Story

by

BETTY MAY

Duckworth Overlook

L ONDON & N EW Y ORK

This eBook edition 2014
This edition published in the UK in 2014 by

Duckworth Overlook

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First published by
Gerald Duckworth & Co. Ltd in 1929

1929 by Betty May

All rights reserved. No part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise,
without the prior permission of the publisher.

A catalogue record for this book is available
from the British Library

ISBNs

Paperback: 9780715648551

Mobi: 9780715649251

ePub: 9780715649268

Library PDF: 9780715649275

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

INTRODUCTION

I SUPPOSE that a good many of the people who read this book (if any do !) will have heard of me already. Some of them will actually know me and remember the things and the people I am going to speak of. They will recognize several of the individuals who are called only by their Christian names, or who are only described by their appearance or most marked characteristics. For these it may be interesting to recall the old times of before and during the warnow that everything is so altered and the adventures that we used to have in those days. But there will be a great many people who will never have heard of me at all, and for them I want to explain a little of myself if possible, before I begin. I want this to be a frank history of my life. By this I mean that I want people to realize what I am really like. A lot of the stories I am going to tell are, I suppose, rather unpleasant home-truths about myself, but I am not ashamed of them. They are all part of me, and when you have read my story perhaps you will understand in some way how my character has been formed.

When I read through this book the thing that struck me most was what an exciting life I have had up to the present (you see I am not even middle-aged yet). But in spite of this it has not really felt so exciting while it has all been going on. Of course bits of it have been thrilling, I admit. But then for long periods nothing seemed to happen to speak of, and I had no money or was terribly bored or something like that, and things did not seem bright at all. I suppose everybodys life really feels much like that however exciting it is, and I should be grateful for the experiences that I have had. I have only written down events that I thought would interest everybody because I thought otherwise no one would want to read the book, and one thing I should like to make clear is that the things which are likely to interest everybody are not always the things that have interested me most. I have had all sorts of experiences which mean a lot to me but would not interest anyone else to hear about. I suppose every woman carries in her heart memories that mean more to her than all sorts of exciting stories she might be able to tell. It is certainly so with me, and if there are people who know me and read my story and wonder about why this person or that episode has not been mentioned, it is possible that they may find an explanation in what I have said above. On the other hand, it may just be I that have forgotten, for it has not always been easy to remember every incident in ones life.

First of all you must realize that I have never tried to be ordinary and to fit in with other people. I have not cared what the world thought about me, and as a result I am afraid what it thought has often not been very kind. I have had love affairs, some of which you will hear about and some of which you will not hear about. I have often lived only for pleasure and excitement, but you will see that I came to it by unexpected ways. Fate seems to have led me there, for I have lived in a world which I was certainly not born to. In fact nothing could have been further from it than the surroundings in which I was brought up. And now having said this, I hope everyone will feel in a sympathetic mood to hear about me. If they do not they had better put my book down, for I am going to tell my story in the same sort of way that I have lived my life.

CHAPTER I

CHILDHOOD

MyselfEarliest memoriesMy coster grandmotherA suicideI am sent to live with my fatherMy fathers had characterHis arrest by my grandfatherLife on a bargeI dance for some sailorsI go to SomersetThe schoolmaster I am sent to LondonThe beginning of adventures.

T IDAL B ASIN , where I was born, and spent most of the single-figure years of my life, is as everyone knows, one of the poorest and most squalid districts in London. At the time when I can first remember, my father had already left us, convinced, I suppose, that having begotten four children, nothing further could reasonably be expected of a man. And even the law failed to extract from him any contribution towards our support, although I believe he used to be sent to prison at intervals for refusing to pay anything towards his familys upkeep.

We lived in one room, with a scullery attached, containing a round white copper. The only other furniture consisted of a table, one or two very broken-down cane-bottomed chairs, and a carpet chair in which my mother used to rest of an evening, with a folded ironing-blanket for a cushion. We did not possess a bed, and at night used to sleep on bundles of rags in the various corners of the room.

My mother was half French, and at this time still very good-looking. Not more than five feet in height I am no tallershe had a rich olive complexion and beautiful dark eyes set very wide apart, which I have also inherited. Her nose, however, was better than mine, being a delicate aquiline, whereas mine is, to be honest, rather a snub. Her life must have been a hard one. She had four children to bring up on a total income of ten shillings a week. And to earn this meagre sum she had to work twelve hours a day at a chocolate factory. It would have been excusable if she had neglected us. The amount of work she had to do in the course of the day was simply awful, for I am afraid that as a family we needed a good deal of looking after. I suppose we inherited this from our father. But so long as my mothers strength held out she never surrendered. Although ten shillings a week was not enough to keep us warm and well fed, she at least persevered in keeping us and our home clean. Only the black-beetles escaped all her efforts. I shall never forget the sensation of crushing them under my bare feet. They used to give a sort of scrunch.

Sometimes, but not often, she was able to bring us back some chocolate from the factory. Oh ! the delight of that chocolate ! It was almost worth being half-starved to enjoy it as we did.

I have only one more recollection of these very early days, and that is of a tall bearded man who visited us one winter evening. Ordinarily we should have retired for the night by the time he arrived, but apparently my mother was expecting him, for she kept the lamp burning. I imagine he was a seaman as he wore small gold rings in his ears. He stayed for a long time, and my mother seemed to enjoy his company. Before he went he took me on his knee and played with me.