A Mother's Trust (27 page)

‘You’re all right now. You’re safe. I’m taking you home.’

She opened her eyes and found herself leaning against Rogue Paxman. She inched away from him and leaned back against the stale-smelling leather squabs. ‘What happened? Who attacked me?’

‘I’ve never seen the cove before, but I’ve a feeling it might have been your magician friend.’

‘Collins?’ Phoebe stared at him in disbelief. ‘No. It can’t have been. Why would he do such a thing?’

‘It’s lucky that I didn’t go indoors straight away or he might have succeeded in carrying you off. I assume that was his intention.’

‘I can’t believe he would do something like that,
especially
not in broad daylight. And why were you watching me? Did you think to catch me out by spying on me?’

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Madonna. One of the dogs ran out into the road. He has a particular fondness for the duck pond in the gardens, and I was calling him back when I saw a tall fellow dressed in black from head to foot. It was obvious that he was following you and then he pounced.’

She frowned. None of this made sense. ‘What could Caspar hope to gain by setting about me? It’s not the way to win me over.’

‘Perhaps he didn’t care about anything other than having you for himself. I’ve known men do equally insane things for love of a woman.’

Phoebe recoiled at the thought. ‘Don’t say such things. He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word.’

‘And you feel nothing for him?’

‘Are you mad? I hate him.’

‘He doesn’t seem the sort who will give up easily. I can arrange to have him stopped, if that’s what you want.’

‘You’d have him killed on my say so?’

Rogue threw back his head and laughed. ‘Nothing so dramatic. I’m not a violent man.’

‘How can you say that? You’re a gang leader. Your men are thugs and extort money by terrorising innocent citizens.’

‘The only violence they are allowed to use is against
the
high mob, who, believe me, are far more of a danger to the people we protect. I’m not defending myself, or the way I make a living, but there are others far worse than Ned and me.’

‘And that makes it all right, does it? You rule by fear and you take what isn’t yours.’ She turned away, unable to look him in the eyes lest she weaken. There was something compelling about his personality that almost made her believe that he was doing a public service. She could not allow her defences to drop or she might be forced to acknowledge the fact that she was attracted to him, and had been from the moment they first met.

‘This isn’t a perfect world, Phoebe. I learned that a long time ago when my father died leaving nothing but debts. The disgrace sent my mother to an early grave.’

She turned on him angrily. ‘If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for you, you’re failing dismally. You and your brother chose the path you’ve taken. You’re not a stupid man; you could have done something better with your life.’

‘You’re probably right, but it’s too late to change now. And we’ve strayed from the subject, which was how to protect you from Collins. I could make his life in London so uncomfortable that he would want to remove himself to a safer place.’

‘Why would you do that for me?’

‘I’m doing it for my nephew. I trust you to care for him like a mother, and no harm must come to you.’

‘Oh!’ She turned away, hoping he had not seen disappointment in her eyes. She had won her battle to keep her baby brother, but she could not help feeling that
she
had lost something deeper and more meaningful. In the last couple of hours the world seemed to have gone topsy-turvy. She stared out at the familiar streets packed with carts, drays and costermongers trading their wares from their barrows. Respectable housewives brushed shoulders with prostitutes, and bankers hurried past the beggars who lolled on the pavements, holding out tin cups in the hope of attracting alms. Ragged children dodged in and out between horses’ hooves and feral dogs and cats scavenged for scraps of food in the detritus piled high in the gutters. She reached up to bang on the roof. ‘Stop here, cabby.’

‘I want to see you to your door,’ Rogue said sharply. ‘Drive on, cabby.’

‘No, stop, please.’ Phoebe struggled to open the half-door which covered their knees. ‘I don’t want anyone to see us together. Everyone knows everyone else in Saffron Hill. Please, Rogue, let me go.’

His hand covered hers and he pushed the door open. ‘All right, but I’ll wait here until I see you safe in your house.’ His fingers curled around hers for a brief moment. ‘And before you question my motives yet again, just remember we’re part of the same family now.’

She stared at him in surprise. ‘I suppose we are. If Ned had married Ma he would be my stepfather.’ She covered her mouth to suppress a chuckle. ‘And you would be my uncle.’

His eyes lightened with a smile. ‘I’d prefer it if we kept that between ourselves. It would ruin my reputation as a hard man if such a rumour were to get out.’ He climbed down from the cab and helped her to
alight
, holding her round the waist for a little longer than was strictly necessary. ‘You will keep your promise to Ned, won’t you, Madonna?’

She was suddenly breathless. She could feel the warmth of his hands even through the layers of cotton shift, her linen and whalebone stays and the print gown she wore. Her heart was thudding against her ribcage and quite irrationally she found herself wondering what it would be like to be held even closer to him. She drew away from him on the pretext of smoothing her crumpled skirts. ‘I’ll be there at four o’clock, Rogue Paxman.’ She lapsed into the safer area of formality, but he caught her by the hand as she started to walk off.

‘I keep telling you that my name is Roger. If we’re to be related I think you could call me that, Madonna.’

She shot him a glance beneath her lashes. ‘I’ll call you Rogue. It suits you better.’ She pulled her hand free and walked on, quickening her step and lifting her skirts above her ankles as she trod through the piles of rubbish and dried mud. She knew that he was watching her but she did not look back. She let herself into the house, hoping that her grandmother had not noticed her absence.

‘Phoebe, is that you?’

Sighing, she paused at the foot of the stairs. ‘Yes, Nonna.’

‘Come here at once, girl.’

Hanging her bonnet and shawl on the hallstand, Phoebe hurried into the front parlour where, to her horror, she saw Ethel Fowler and Minnie Sykes seated at the table where she held her séances.

‘YOU WANTED ME
, Nonna?’ Phoebe struggled to maintain her calm, but she could see that Ethel and Minnie were out for trouble. The smell of strong drink and pipe tobacco clung to their persons and overpowered even the heady aroma of Nonna’s lavender-scented furniture polish.

Maria rose slowly to her feet. ‘We’ve been waiting for an hour or more for you to return. These persons have told me some bad things about you, cara. I want you to tell them they are not true.’

‘I got a name, old woman,’ Ethel said, bristling like an angry turkeycock. ‘Me and Minnie have both got handles to go by, and we ain’t telling no lies.’ She pointed her finger at Phoebe. ‘Ask her. She’s the one who’s been fibbing her head off.’

Maria fixed Phoebe with a stern look. ‘What have you to say for yourself, my girl?’

Mustering every ounce of courage she possessed, Phoebe decided that attack was the only strategy left to her. ‘What have you been saying, you old witch?’

Ethel stood up, puffing out her chest as if she were about to explode. ‘You took me daughter away from me. You robbed me of the money old Snape was going to give me for her dowry.’

‘You don’t even know what that word means,’ Phoebe said scornfully. ‘You sold her to him so that he could use her as he wished.’

‘That’s as maybe, but she’s still my kid. And you lied about the baby.’

Phoebe held her breath. It was all going to come out now. The family would never forgive her for her deception, let alone the disgrace that her mother had brought upon them. ‘How did I lie?’ she demanded.

‘You told the Paxmans that Dolly was its mother.’ Ethel leaned across the table, glaring at Phoebe. Her breath would have stunned an ox, but Phoebe was too relieved to allow the stench of alcohol and rotten teeth to upset her.

‘Why did you say that, Phoebe?’ Maria cried angrily.

‘Yes, why indeed?’ Minnie echoed. ‘You’re a wicked girl.’

‘She wanted to hide her shame,’ Ethel said, hiccuping. ‘She didn’t want Ned Paxman to know she had a nipper. I seen the way she looked at him in the pub. She wants to be his sweetheart, but he wouldn’t want a trull like her. He’s got more taste.’

Phoebe smothered a sigh of relief. It was becoming obvious that Ethel and Minnie had only heard part of Caspar’s accusations.

‘I knew it was all a pack of lies,’ Maria said, moving swiftly round the table to give Ethel a hearty shove. ‘Get out of here, you drunken old bitch. I won’t have you and your ugly sister in my house a moment longer. Go now before I really lose my temper.’

‘Don’t push me, you Eyetie slut.’ Ethel fisted her
hands
, dancing about like a prize fighter at the start of a round, but Minnie caught her by the arm.

‘Come on, Ethel. Leave them. They ain’t worth the bother.’

‘I ain’t leaving until she tells me where to find my girl,’ Ethel said, jerking her head in Phoebe’s direction. ‘I’m not budging from this spot.’

Maria made a move to push Ethel out of the door, but Phoebe stepped in between them. ‘Dolly is safe and well. She doesn’t want anything to do with you.’

‘I’m her ma,’ Ethel protested, working her mouth as though she was trying to summon up tears. ‘I loves me girl.’

‘In that case allow her to live her life as she chooses.’

Ethel recoiled like a snake about to strike. Her small eyes almost disappeared between folds of flesh as she screwed her face up in a snarl. ‘You haven’t heard the last of this, missis. You’re a trollop just like your ma, so you can drop your airs and graces.’

‘I told you to leave my house.’ Maria picked up a wooden candlestick and brandished it above her head.

Minnie tugged at Ethel’s arm. ‘Come on. She means business.’

‘All right, I’m going.’ Ethel shook her fist at Phoebe. ‘If I hear that you’ve spread spiteful rumours about Dolly, it’ll be the worse for you. I got friends in the high mob and they ain’t afraid of the Paxmans. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them had fathered your brat.’

Maria rushed at her but Phoebe caught her grandmother round the waist before she managed to land a
blow
on Ethel’s retreating form. ‘Don’t, Nonna. Let them go.’

‘I’d have brained the evil woman,’ Maria said, replacing the candlestick on the mantelshelf with a dull thud. Her bosom rose and fell, betraying the depth of her emotion. She gazed at Phoebe with a puckered brow. ‘Was there any truth in what she said?’

‘No!’ Phoebe’s emphatic denial reverberated round the room. She shook her head. ‘Of course not, Nonna. I barely know the Paxman brothers.’

‘Of course you don’t, cara.’ Maria wrapped her arms around her granddaughter. ‘I know that, but I had to ask. You love Gino, and in September when we return home you will be married in the church of San Vittore on Isola Pescatori, just like me and Fabio were, and our parents before us.’

Momentarily diverted, Phoebe stared at her grandmother in surprise. ‘But I thought the family came from Stresa.’

‘Not all of us, cara. I was born on Isola Pescatori. My father and his forefathers were all fishermen. I met Fabio when I accompanied my eldest brother to Stresa to sell fish in the market there.’ Maria clasped her hands to her bosom. ‘I was just sixteen, and it was love at first sight.’

‘How romantic,’ Phoebe said, giving her a hug. ‘Was it the same for both of you?’

Maria nodded, her eyes misting. She moved away to wipe her eyes on her apron. ‘Yes. Fabio was so tall and handsome. After that first meeting he rowed out to the island every day to see me. We were married
that
September, which is why I want the same for you.’

Phoebe closed her eyes and she could see the jewel-like island seeming to float on a lake of deep ultramarine. It was a far cry from the stews of the East End, and suddenly she had a burning desire to be there beneath the benign Italian skies, with the sun on her face and the crystal clear air from the mountains in her lungs. ‘I want that too, Nonna.’ She wanted so much to believe that this was true. Surely all the problems that beset her in London would vanish like a puff of smoke once she was married to Gino. Neither the Paxmans nor Caspar could touch her when she was another man’s wife. Teddy would have a father and she would be as good as a mother to him. They would all live happily ever after, like the characters in the penny dreadfuls that she had loved to read when she was growing up. Tales such as The Castle of Otranto, and The String of Pearls, still had the power to thrill and absorb her. All she wanted was a happy ending. Surely it was not too much to ask after the tragedy of losing both her parents and the trials that beset her now?

‘Daydreaming again, Phoebe.’ Maria patted her cheek as she walked past. ‘I must get on with my work or there’ll be no supper tonight. What time is the next séance booked for?’

Phoebe glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf. ‘In ten minutes, Nonna. I must get everything ready.’

‘You won’t have to do this sort of thing once you’re married to Gino,’ Maria said with a worried frown.
‘I
don’t like meddling with the spirit world. I wasn’t happy with Annie doing it and I like it even less now. I’ll be glad to rid my home of unwanted visitors from the other side.’ She made the sign of the cross and hurried from the room as if expecting evil entities to chase after her.

Phoebe sighed. She was tired of the whole business. Sometimes she saw things that others apparently did not, but mostly she told people what they wanted to hear, just as her mother had done for as long as she could remember. This afternoon’s clients were a newly bereaved widow and her sister-in-law who were squabbling over money. It was all very sordid and Phoebe could imagine the dead man turning in his grave if he could see the two women who were supposed to love him the most fighting for possession of his fortune. But where the lawyers had failed to appease both parties, perhaps a few well-timed words from beyond the grave might bring them to their senses. Phoebe sat down at the head of the table to compose her thoughts in preparation for the séance, but worries about how Ned might react when introduced to his son were still very much on her mind.