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Authors: Dilly Court

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BOOK: A Mother's Trust
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She could not keep up the pretence that all was well, and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m in terrible trouble, Gino. I don’t know what to do.’

‘My darling, what’s wrong? Come in and tell me all about it.’ He pushed the door open and led her into the dark and narrow hall. The smell of boiled cabbage and garlic almost overpowered the stench emanating from the communal privy in the back yard. The room that Gino and his mother rented was on the top floor of the three-storey building, and he shared a basement kitchen with another immigrant family in which they made their daily quota of ice cream. It was not, as he often said, a very satisfactory arrangement, but it meant that he and his mother could live cheaply and save money.

Phoebe followed him into the attic where Signora Argento was attempting to boil pasta over a desultory fire in the small grate. The room was hot and stuffy even though the roof window had been wedged open with an old boot. She straightened up when Gino entered and her curious expression dissolved into a pleased smile when she saw Phoebe. ‘I haven’t seen you for weeks, cara. This bad leg of mine makes it difficult for me to cope with the stairs these days.’ She indicated her left hip, grimacing with pain as she made a move towards Phoebe. ‘I can’t wait to go home next month.’

‘Phoebe is in trouble, Mamma,’ Gino said softly. ‘She needs our help.’

‘Trouble!’ Lalia Argento’s voice rose to a squeak. ‘Not another bambino on the way so soon?’

Phoebe shook her head vehemently. ‘No, Signora Argento. It’s not that.’ She turned to Gino with a worried frown. ‘Haven’t you told your mother?’

‘Told me what?’ Lalia sank down on a three-legged stool, the only seating apart from a crude wooden bench placed beside a table in the middle of the room. ‘What are you keeping from me, son?’

Gino pulled up the bench and motioned Phoebe to sit. ‘Give her a chance to explain, Mamma.’

Phoebe looked from one to the other. She was fond of Lalia Argento, who never said a bad word about anyone. Lalia had always been kind to her when she was a child, and until the onset of the rheumatics in her hip she had been an active woman who had taken in washing as well as helping her son to make ice cream. They lived even more frugally than the rest of the Italian community in order to save enough money to purchase a boat for Gino, whose aim in life was to return home and become a fisherman. Making ice cream and living in the slums of East London was simply a means to an end. Phoebe knew that Lalia would make a kind and caring mother-in-law, but she could not allow her to be misled any longer. ‘I thought Gino had told you the truth about Teddy,’ she said, ignoring his attempts to attract her attention. ‘He’s not our baby. He’s my brother.’

Lalia shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. Gino, why did you lie to me?’

‘I didn’t mean to, Mamma. I suppose I was afraid that once the truth was known, everyone would find out. Phoebe didn’t want her mother’s memory sullied by scandal.’

‘So Teddy is Annie’s child. Is that why you went away, Phoebe?’

‘Yes, but it’s even more complicated than that, Signora Argento. Teddy’s father is Ned Paxman.’

‘Not that dreadful gangster?’

‘Yes. And he’s found out that Teddy is his son. He wants to bring him up as his own, but he’s not in a position to look after a baby. Anyway, I don’t want my little brother to be brought up by criminals.’

‘You must tell him so, cara. It is not for a man like him to have care of a tiny child.’

‘I know that, and so does Ned, which is why he wants to marry me.’

Gino sank down on the bench beside Phoebe, holding her close. ‘The man is mad. You’re engaged to me.’

‘He’s aware of that, but he doesn’t care. He needs someone to look after Teddy. It’s not me he wants, but he knows that I love my brother and will do anything to keep him safe.’

Lalia threw her hands up in despair. ‘This is terrible. What shall we do?’

‘It’s even worse than that,’ Phoebe whispered. ‘There’s this man I worked with in Brighton. He’s an illusionist and a magician. He knows about Teddy and he’s threatening to tell my grandparents unless I do what he wants.’

Gino’s fingers tightened on her shoulder and she felt his muscle tense. ‘What is that, cara? You must tell me.’

Phoebe hung her head. ‘He wants me to be his assistant and …’ She broke off, unable to put Caspar’s proposition into words.

‘And what, cara?’ Lalia asked gently. ‘Tell us, please. Gino will protect you. He’s a good man just like his father.’ She crossed herself and her eyes filled with tears. ‘My poor Antonio. He was a saint.’

‘What did he say to you, Phoebe?’ Gino demanded angrily. ‘Tell me.’

‘He wants me to be part of his stage act, and I must live with him or he’ll tell my grandparents everything. I can’t let these men destroy my family, Gino. What shall I do?’

‘You must go away, Phoebe.’ Lalia broke the silence. ‘If you stay there will be open warfare between our countrymen and the Paxman gang. As to the magician, who knows what mischief he might do?’

‘Mamma is right,’ Gino said, nodding his head in agreement. ‘I’ll take you and Teddy somewhere safe. We’ll go tonight.’

Phoebe rose to her feet. ‘No. I can’t do that. Ned wouldn’t rest until he found us, and Caspar won’t give up easily. He’s convinced that I’m the only one who can help make his act great. He’s wrong, of course.’

‘And if you remain in London, what will happen then?’ Lalia exchanged worried glances with her son. ‘You must take her and the boy to a place of safety, Gino. One way or another, there’s going to be trouble.’

Gino ran his hand through his abundant dark hair. His dark eyes were sombre. ‘We should go home to Isola Pescatori. They can’t touch us there.’

‘But this is my home,’ Phoebe said in desperation. ‘I’ve only been to Italy a couple of times and I was very young then.’

Gino leapt to his feet and took her in his arms. ‘I understand that you’re scared, cara. But things will be different when we’re married. I promise to look after you and I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.’

She relaxed just a little. ‘I know you will, Gino.’

‘Perhaps I can get a loan to purchase a boat and then we’ll be set up for life. We need never return to England. You and the boy will be safe on my island, and your grandparents will retire soon. They will be close at hand in Stresa, so you won’t feel like a stranger.’

Suddenly she could see her future mapped out for her, and she was even more afraid, but the doubts she harboured in her heart were something she could not share even with the man she had promised to marry. She managed a wobbly smile. ‘You’re a good chap, Gino. I’m a lucky girl to have someone like you.’

Lalia jumped up to embrace them both. ‘You will make a lovely couple. I say we pack up and go now.’

‘No, Mamma,’ Gino said earnestly. ‘I need you to stay here until the end of the season. You must make everyone believe that I am still here. There will be an even bigger scandal if Papa Giamatti thinks that Phoebe and I have eloped.’

‘You can’t leave me on my own, son. What will I do if Maria comes to my door and demands the truth? You know that I’m no good at lying.’

Phoebe moved away from them, attempting to clear her mind. Gino’s plan was well intentioned, but it had flaws. They might not be planning an elopement but that is how her grandparents would see it. They would
be
mortified at first, and anger would follow swiftly. A rift would open up between the families, which would not augur well for a happy marriage. She turned slowly to face them. ‘Mamma Argento is right. I must go away with Teddy, but you have to remain here, Gino. I’ll tell my grandparents that I’m going to stay with Judy for a couple of weeks.’

‘What excuse would you make for rushing off?’

‘I’ll think of something, but I must leave tonight.’

‘Paxman isn’t a man who will give up easily. Everyone knows that when he wants something he takes it, regardless of who gets hurt in the process.’

‘I’m not afraid of the Paxmans,’ Phoebe said firmly, but more in an effort to convince herself than to comfort Gino.

He moved to her side, taking her hand in his. ‘Phoebe, think this through. It’s not only Paxman, there’s this other fellow, the magician. From what you say he’s obsessed with you. If either of them discover where you’ve gone they might follow you to Brighton, and you’ll have no one to protect you.’

She laid her finger on his lips. ‘I don’t intend to linger in Brighton. I’ll move on to Dover and find a cheap place to lodge until you and Mamma Argento are able to join me. We’ll travel to Italy together and by that time I hope both Ned and Caspar will have given up the search.’

‘You make it sound so easy.’ Gino did not look convinced.

Lalia laid her hand on his arm. ‘Can you think of a better idea? Phoebe is talking sense. If you are seen to
be
here and you carry on as normal, everyone will assume that she plans to return soon.’

Phoebe nodded vigorously. ‘Your mother is right, Gino. It’s the only way, but there is still a problem.’

‘What is that, cara? Tell me. I’ll do anything to help.’

‘I haven’t any money.’

‘Don’t worry about that, Phoebe.’ Lalia limped over to the truckle bed on the far wall. She slipped her hand under the straw-filled palliasse and brought out a leather pouch.

‘My boat money, Mamma.’ Gino stared at her in horror. ‘I’ve saved every penny I could so that I could build up a business, and give us a better life.’

‘And what future will you have if Phoebe is spirited away by the Paxman gang, or becomes embroiled with that magician fellow? How will you comfort her if her brother is taken from her to be raised by villains, and her disgraced family call for a vendetta?’

He held up his hands as if defeated by his mother’s logic. ‘Take it, Phoebe. Mamma’s right, as usual.’

She hesitated. It was tempting but she had seen the look on his face, even if it was fleeting, and she knew how much the fishing boat meant to him. She shook her head. ‘No. Keep it, please. You can’t give up your dream because of me and my family.’

‘I’m nothing without you, Phoebe.’ He took the purse from his mother and thrust it into Phoebe’s hands, closing her fingers over the soft leather. ‘You are more important to me than anything. We’ll manage somehow once we get home. I can work for my Uncle Marco. He’s always wanted to take me on.’

Lalia wiped her eyes on her none-too-clean apron. ‘Take it, cara. You have my blessing. You will be the daughter I never had, and little Teddy will be my first grandson. One of many, I hope.’

Phoebe gave her a hug. ‘I’ll be careful with the money, Mamma Argento.’ She turned to Gino with a rueful smile. ‘I must go now. I have to leave tonight.’

‘Let me at least take you to the station, cara.’

‘No. We mustn’t draw attention to ourselves. I’ll send word when we’re settled in Dover.’

He followed her to the door. ‘I’ll see you home.’

‘No, don’t do that. You should stay here with your mother.’ Phoebe kissed him on the cheek. ‘I’ll send word as soon as I can, I promise.’

He seized her in a passionate embrace. ‘Be careful, my darling. I’ll be thinking of you every minute of every day that we’re apart.’

She broke away from him and hurried from the room. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she negotiated the steep staircase, but it was not the prospect of being parted from Gino that made her feel so wretched: it was something deeper than fear of vendetta or the machinations of Caspar Collins. She paused on the first floor landing, shuddering as a rat ran across her feet. She had seen many such vermin every day in Saffron Hill, but it was not that which made her suddenly breathless, nor was it the impending flight from London that terrified her. She closed her eyes and saw dark water and heard the sound of waves crashing on the shore. She felt a sharp pain in her chest as though someone had stabbed her through
the
heart, and she opened her eyes. There was nothing to see other than the dank stairway with plaster flaking from the walls and spiders’ webs hanging from the blackened ceiling. She ran down the remaining stairs and burst out of the front door into the street.

Outside it was even hotter and the stench from the rubbish-filled gutters was appalling. The dilapidated buildings leaned on each other for support and grimy windows gazed blindly onto the street. Swarms of flies turned piles of horse dung into heaving masses and two mangy curs were fighting over a bone. She could hear the familiar metallic clatter of iron wheels on iron rails, and the screech of brakes accompanied by a burst of steam as trains pulled into the Metropolitan Railway terminus in Victoria Street. The smell of burning coal from the engines mingled with the acrid odour of soot and the stench of blocked drains was a familiar but unpleasant fact of life in Saffron Hill. Then the clock on St Peter’s church in Cross Street struck seven and she knew she was late for supper.

All these sights, sounds and smells had been part of her existence for as long as she could remember. This was home. She stepped aside to avoid treading on the feet of a homeless person, male or female, it was impossible to tell which, who was slumped in a shop doorway snoring beneath a pile of old newspapers. She walked on, the gnawing pain in her heart growing fiercer with each step she took. Why was she feeling like this? What was it that made her so afraid? She paused, stopping to pick up the broken head of a flower that must have
been
discarded by a street seller. She plucked one white petal from the marguerite and let it fly away on the cool east wind that had come in with the tide. ‘He loves me.’ She pulled another and watched it flutter to the ground. ‘He loves me not.’ She could not stop until she held the sunny yellow centre of the flower in the palm of her hand. ‘He loves me.’ But it was not Gino’s face she saw in her mind’s eye. She tossed the remains of the daisy over her shoulder. This was the truth that she had denied until now. This was the dark secret she had hidden from herself for so many weeks. Now she was even more afraid. Everything was revealed to her in a split second of utter madness. It was Rogue Paxman who had claimed and now owned her heart. She had no choice in the matter. She loved him even though he had never shown anything but a passing interest in her, and despite the fact that his way of life repelled her. The Paxman gang had been the cause of her father’s death, even if they had not actually fired the shot that killed him. Ma had died giving birth to Ned’s son, and it was unthinkable that she, Phoebe Giamatti, would even consider giving herself to a man who had caused her family so much pain and distress.

BOOK: A Mother's Trust
10.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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