A Mother's Trust (41 page)

‘I can smell coffee,’ Gino said, rising to his feet. ‘I’ll bring you some, cara.’ He paused in the doorway, smiling at her. ‘Madonna and child. What a beautiful sight.’

As he left the room Phoebe buried her face in Teddy’s soft brown curls with a groan of pain. Madonna had been Rogue’s name for her, and hearing it on Gino’s lips was yet another painful reminder of love lost and beyond recall. Teddy tugged at her hair and she raised her face, smiling at him through her tears. ‘You must be hungry, poor little boy.’ She sat him on the bed while she dressed quickly before Gino could return and see her naked. Last night she had been thankful for the darkness when he had helped her disrobe. She had felt his hot breath on her neck and the way his fingers trembled as they unlaced her stays. Her cheeks flamed at the memory and she struggled with feelings of guilt. Although Gino was her husband in the sight of the church and in law, she felt that she had somehow betrayed the true husband of her heart. Rogue would be well on his way to England by now, and she was in Marco Argento’s tiny house on a small island set in
a
vast lake. She was in another world and here she must stay for the rest of her life. When Gino returned to the room bringing her a cup of coffee, she walked into his arms and wept on his shoulder.

‘My darling, what’s the matter? Have I hurt you in any way?’ Gino set the cup down carefully on the chest of drawers. ‘Why are you crying?’

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘It must be happiness, Gino dear. Or perhaps I’m a bit tired after everything.’

He lifted her in his arms and laid her on the bed. ‘How thoughtless of me, cara. Of course you must be worn out after all the excitement yesterday, and then I kept you awake half the night.’ He paused, chuckling to himself. ‘Anyway, you must rest. Aunt Cosima will take care of the boy this morning. You get some sleep.’ He picked Teddy up and carried him from the room.

Downstairs, Phoebe could hear Aunt Cosima’s loud protests. ‘Isn’t it bad enough that you wait hand and foot on the girl, Gino? Now you want me to look after the baby. Is she too much of a lady to look after her own child? I’m not a servant, you know. Send for that other Englishwoman if you need a nursemaid for your son.’

Phoebe curled up in a ball and gave way to the flood of tears that she had been holding back since she had sent Rogue away. At last, spent with grief, she slept. When she awakened the sun was high in the sky and she could smell the savoury aroma of garlic, herbs and tomatoes wafting up the wooden staircase. She rose from the bed, dressed in her simple cotton print gown
and
brushed her hair, securing it in a knot at the back of her head before descending to the one room which served as living room, kitchen and sleeping quarters for Marco and Cosima.

‘Well, my lady. This is a fine time to get up. I’ve done all my chores and taken care of your son. I hope you don’t think this is going to happen every day.’ Cosima stood arms akimbo, glaring at Phoebe with overt animosity. She had treated her quite differently when her husband and Gino were present, but now she was showing her true feelings and it was not pleasant.

‘I’m sorry,’ Phoebe murmured, bending down to snatch Teddy from the floor and stop him from putting a large black beetle in his mouth. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘Quite right it won’t,’ Cosima said angrily. ‘You will get up before Gino and make sure he has some food inside him before he goes out on the water. You will take over the cleaning as I am reaching the age when I should take things easy and you are young. And you will look after your child.’ She stared pointedly at Phoebe’s chest. ‘Gino should have married a good, study peasant girl who could have suckled her own babies. You look too puny to bear him the children he wants. That’s what comes of marrying a foreigner.’ She thrust a broom into Phoebe’s spare hand. ‘Go outside and sweep the street. Take the boy with you and make sure he doesn’t stray into the water. Or else take him to his grandmother. Lalia may be a cripple but she can watch the child.’ She went to sit by the fire and began
stirring
the pot containing the delicious-smelling fish stew.

Phoebe was only too glad to go outside into the warm September sunshine. She found Lalia sitting on a wooden bench set against the whitewashed wall of the adjoining house, where she rented a tiny room on the ground floor. ‘I heard it all,’ Lalia said, shaking her head. ‘That Cosima has always been a bitch. She used to make my life a misery when I was younger, but now I am too old to care what she says.’ She held out her arms. ‘Let me hold my grandson. I may not be very good on my feet, but I can keep an eye on him for you.’

Phoebe set Teddy on her lap. ‘He’s very strong now, Lalia. He wants to get down and crawl.’ She glanced at the water’s edge which was just yards away. ‘I hope we won’t be here too long. It’s a dangerous place to bring up a child.’

Lalia nodded in agreement. ‘But it will be some time before Gino can afford to pay the rent they demand these days. That aside, he was raised here and he didn’t come to grief in the lake.’

‘I’m probably making too much of it.’ Despite her brave words, Phoebe felt a shiver run down her spine. ‘Anyway, I’ll watch Teddy like a hawk.’

‘I don’t see much work being done.’ Cosima appeared in the doorway, holding an earthenware bowl in her hand. She stepped out of the house and set it down beside Lalia. ‘There’s your food. I’ll add the cost of feeding you onto your son’s rent. I’m not a charity.’

‘Thank you, Cosima,’ Lalia said meekly. ‘I’m very grateful to you.’

‘Well, if your husband had made provisions for his widow you wouldn’t be in this sorry state.’ Cosima eyed her coldly. ‘My Marco has seen to it that if anything happens to him I will be taken care of, and my daughters know their duty. It’s a pity your son hasn’t saved more from the money he makes in London. By now he should be able to support his old mother and a wife.’ Cosima was about to re-enter the house, but she hesitated, turning her attention once again to Phoebe. ‘You can eat later, when you’ve finished your chores. Best get on with it, my girl.’ She went inside and slammed the door.

Lalia pulled a face. ‘Let’s hope Gino gets a good catch today. He’s gone out with Marco, who’s showing him the best fishing grounds.’

Phoebe gazed over the calm and silky water. In the distance she could see small fishing boats and she wondered which one was Marco’s. Despite the fact that she had spent winters here as a young child, things had been different then and Ma had always encouraged her to think of London as her real home. She had known that when spring came they would return to Saffron Hill, and for all its squalor, disease and poverty, the East End was where she had been raised. She was a Londoner through and through, and despite the majestic grandeur of the snow-capped mountains and the picturesque beauty of the lake, Phoebe had always been afraid of the water. Even now, beneath the glassy surface, so still and serene on a fine autumn day, she could feel danger lurking.

An impatient rapping on the window made her
jump
. Cosima was glaring at her and Phoebe set to work sweeping the cobblestones. Life here might appear idyllic in comparison to the harsh world of the East End, but there were different kinds of hardship to conquer. There was little else she could do other than try to keep Cosima happy until such time as they could move into a place of their own. Lalia was breaking off bits of bread and dipping them into the bowl before feeding them to Teddy who consumed them greedily, opening his mouth for more like a baby bird.

‘He will grow big and strong,’ Lalia said, smiling. ‘He’s a fine boy but he takes more after your side of the family, Phoebe. Those eyes are the colour of the lake in spring. He is more of an Englishman than an Italian, I think.’

Phoebe swept the dust and dead leaves into the water. ‘My mother was fair-haired and she had blue eyes.’

‘I remember her well.’ Lalia set her empty bowl down on the bench. ‘The boy is very like his grandmother. A pity she didn’t live to see him.’

Phoebe dropped the broom and ran to snatch Teddy back from the water’s edge. ‘No,’ she scolded. ‘Naughty boy. Stay with Nonna.’ She gave him a shake, but more from fear than anger, and she cuddled him against her when he started to cry. ‘It’s not safe here,’ she said angrily. ‘We can’t remain in this place.’

She repeated the same words to Gino as they lay in bed that night. All day she had been on edge, unable to relax until Teddy was safely asleep in his cot. Cosima
stubbornly
insisted on propping the cottage door open, saying that it was too hot to keep it closed. Teddy had reached the crawling stage and could move with surprising speed, which made it impossible for Phoebe to take her eyes off him for a moment, hampering her in her efforts to carry out the tasks set for her by Cosima. Lalia promised to watch him that afternoon, but she had a habit of dozing off in the warm autumn sunshine and Phoebe had only just prevented Teddy from falling into the water on several occasions.

‘He’ll learn, cara,’ Gino said, drawing her to him. ‘You mustn’t worry so much. I’m sure that Mamma and Aunt Cosima will help to look after him.’

She moved away as far as she could in the narrow wooden bed. ‘You don’t understand, Gino. I love your mother, but she’s an old lady, and your aunt doesn’t like me. We must find somewhere else to live. I can’t bear it here.’

He stroked her hair back from her forehead with gentle fingers. ‘Cara mia, I understand that it’s difficult for you. You must miss your family, and Ivy too.’

‘Teddy misses her most. You must find us somewhere to live in Stresa, as far away from the water’s edge as possible.’

‘We can’t leave here until Uncle Marco thinks I’m competent to go out on my own to fish the lake. It’s his boat, after all.’

‘That’s another thing, Gino. I keep getting terrible visions of a storm, and the lake looking more like the sea with giant waves. Teddy is in mortal danger; I feel it in my bones.’

He took her in his arms, holding her so that she could not escape from his embrace without a fight. She could feel his body hard against hers and she realised that their first real disagreement had inflamed his desire. ‘Please, Gino. Not now. I’m tired. I’ve been working hard all day.’ She broke off as his mouth sought hers and his hands caressed her body.

‘My darling,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘I love you. All I want to do is to make you happy.’ He seemed to sense her lack of response and he pulled away just far enough to study her face. ‘You do love me, don’t you, Phoebe?’

PHOEBE COULD SEE
frustration and disappointment in his eyes. She knew she was being unreasonable and that he was doing his best to provide for his ready-made family, and she wished with all her heart that she could return his love threefold. She slid her arms around his neck. ‘I’m sorry, Gino. Of course I love you.’

He kissed her with mounting passion and took her with a degree of urgency that came as a shock after his usual gentle, almost respectful love-making. ‘I adore you, cara,’ he whispered. ‘I promise you that I’ll find us a home on the mainland before Christmas, if it’s the last thing I do.’

But things did not go quite as planned and Uncle Marco proved reluctant to allow Gino to take the boat out on his own. The bad weather was coming, he said, and Gino was still inexperienced in the ways of the lake. He needed more knowledge of the conditions and areas where he would catch the most fish before he could be allowed to sail the craft single-handed. Perhaps another year, and then Gino might be competent to take over the vessel.

Phoebe had accepted the news with a sinking heart. Each day was a battle of wills between her and Aunt Cosima, who grumbled, bullied and took spiteful
digs
at Phoebe, but never when the men were within earshot. When her husband or Gino was present, Cosima was all smiles and could not praise Phoebe highly enough. Cleverly she turned the tables and made it appear that it was Phoebe who was at fault. She was the transgressor, the ungrateful foreign woman who had little respect for their home or their customs. Phoebe could have screamed with frustration, but she knew that if she challenged Cosima openly her accusations would be met with denial, followed by tears and then hysterics. Cosima would be the centre of attention and Phoebe would find herself accused of everything from ingratitude to malice. She learned very early that she could not win. Cosima was a past mistress at getting her own way, and she had Uncle Marco wrapped around her little finger.

Phoebe had to tread lightly and keep her thoughts to herself. She adopted a passive attitude, doing her best to keep out of Cosima’s way and taking Teddy to the mainland at every possible opportunity. She lived for the visits to her grandparents’ home, where she was assured of a warm welcome. She could unburden herself to Ivy, who although newly married to Lorenzo was always ready to lend a sympathetic ear to Phoebe’s troubles.

‘I’d strangle the old cow,’ Ivy said, pouring wine into a glass and handing it to Phoebe. ‘Drink up and forget her for a while.’

Phoebe stretched her bare feet out in front of her, feeling the warm dust trickle between her toes as they
sat
outside the Giamattis’ cottage one sunny afternoon at the end of October. The days were getting shorter and the mornings and evenings were cool to the point of being chilly, but there were still leaves on the trees and a gentle heat at midday. Ivy and Lorenzo were living with Phoebe’s grandparents, but Nonna was quite different from Cosima and had welcomed Ivy into the home. ‘You’re so lucky,’ Phoebe said, sighing. ‘If only we could find a place to rent nearby. It would be such a relief to be away from Cosima, and I worry constantly about Teddy.’ She smiled as she watched him attempting to walk by holding on to the wooden fence which enclosed the tiny garden. ‘I hate living so close to the water.’

Ivy sipped her wine. ‘It won’t be for long. I’m sure Gino’s doing his best.’

‘He is,’ Phoebe said quickly. ‘He’s working so hard to convince Uncle Marco that he can manage the boat and sell the catch successfully. I feel guilty, but sometimes I can’t help nagging him and begging him to stand up to his uncle. I’ve tried to convince him that he can cope very well on his own, but he’s still unsure of himself.’