by Dilly Court
Phoebe looked up as the nurse drew back the curtain and handed her a steaming mug of tea. ‘There you are, miss. Drink that and it’ll bring the colour back to your cheeks. You’d gone quite pale back there. I thought we might have to find a bed for you.’
Phoebe accepted the tea gratefully. ‘Ta, nurse. I was feeling a bit queasy, but I’m fine now, and Dolly has spoken to me. She remembered ice cream. Perhaps I could bring her in some. Would that be allowed?’
‘I don’t see why not, miss. But I suggest you go when you’ve drunk your tea. She needs plenty of rest and quiet.’
‘But she will be all right, won’t she?’
‘It’s too early to tell and anyway you’d need the doctor’s opinion, not mine. But she’s come this far, so I think it’s a good sign.’
Phoebe returned to the hospital whenever she could get away from the house and her interminable chores. Each time she visited Dolly she took a small basket lined with cabbage leaves and packed with ice in which she placed a bowl of Nonno’s vanilla ice cream. It was worth all the trouble to see the smile on Dolly’s face. She was recovering well, but the question of where she would go when discharged from hospital was looming large in Phoebe’s mind. Neither Mrs Fowler nor Minnie Sykes had been near the ward, and Dr Murchison did not bother to disguise the contempt he felt for Dolly’s family when he told Phoebe that she would soon be well enough to leave hospital. Phoebe did not need her mother’s crystal ball to tell her that Dolly would not be welcomed at home. So far she had kept the reason for her daily visits to Bart’s from the family. Her mother had barely noticed her absences, living as she was in a self-centred world of her own, and fretting daily because Ned had made no attempt to contact her. ‘He doesn’t love me,’ she moaned when Phoebe showed concern for her. ‘He was pleased enough to have his way with me but he don’t care for me, not one bit.’ She turned her face to the wall, refusing to say another word.
There had been nothing that Phoebe could say or do which would make any difference or penetrate the wall of misery that her mother had built around herself, and there was no one at home in whom she could confide. Her grandfather was fully occupied making vast quantities of ice cream and water ices to supply the public’s needs, and somehow she did not think her grandmother would be very sympathetic to Dolly’s plight.
In the end it was Gino who discovered the truth by following her one evening when she went to the hospital. He was outside, leaning against the wall and smoking a cheroot, when she emerged from the main entrance. He tossed the butt into the gutter and fell into step beside her. ‘So, are you going to tell me what’s going on, cara? I thought we had no secrets from each other.’
‘It’s not really a secret, Gino.’
‘Then why do you come here every day? You aren’t sick, are you?’
She slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, giving it a squeeze. ‘No, of course not. It’s not me, it’s Dolly Fowler. She had a bad fall and needed an operation.’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘That’s a relief. I thought you were either dying of consumption or you had fallen in love with a handsome doctor.’
‘You are silly, Gino. Why didn’t you ask me outright? And why did you feel the need to follow me? It was wrong of you.’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I love you, Phoebe. I know you don’t feel the same way about me and that our engagement is in name only, but I never know what’s going on in your head. Sometimes you seem very far away from me.’
She stopped, turning to face him squarely. ‘You are so good to me, Gino. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me and for Ma. Without your help I would never have managed to persuade Nonno to let me stay in London.’
‘And what will happen when your mother is delivered of the child? What will you say to your grandparents when they return to London next spring?’
‘I don’t know. That’s Ma’s problem, not mine. All I know is that I have to protect her from the Paxman gang and from my uncles. They believe in vendetta and I know that Julio has friends in the Camorra, and possibly the ‘Ndrangheta too. Nonno doesn’t know about it and he would be furious if he found out, and I don’t want my family torn apart by Ma’s affair with Ned Paxman.’ Phoebe stopped to draw breath, looking over her shoulder in case anyone might have overheard her anxious words. The gangs had spies everywhere. There was no one you could trust implicitly. Spies were rewarded by their masters and punished by those whom they betrayed. The dead houses on the banks of the Thames were filled with corpses fished out of the water by the river police or the lightermen.
In answer, Gino drew her roughly into his arms, pressing her back against the cold glass of a bookshop window. His mouth sought hers and his tongue parted her lips, caressing, tasting and consuming her with a sudden release of pent-up passion. His body was hard against hers and she could taste the smoky fragrance of the cigar on his breath. She struggled at first but the sweet sensations racing through her blood made her go weak at the knees. Needy for love and understanding, she slid her arms around his neck, allowing him to take her weight as she gave herself up to the pleasure of a close embrace from a man who loved her with all his heart. A small voice in her head warned her that this was unfair, but his ardour had awakened something deep inside her that craved to be satisfied. It was Gino who eventually drew away just far enough to gaze into her face. His eyes were glazed with desire and his full lips were parted as if he were about to kiss her again.
She let her arms fall to her sides. ‘We should get home, Gino.’
‘You do love me, cara. You wouldn’t kiss me like that if you had no feeling for me.’
‘I don’t want to give you false hope.’
He stroked her neck with the tips of his fingers. ‘But you could love me. I know it.’
‘There’s too much going on in my head. With Ma in such a state and having to keep her condition a secret from Nonna, I can’t think about my own feelings. You must give me time, Gino.’
He brushed her hair back from her face, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘I’ll give you all the time you want, my beloved Phoebe.’ He raised her hand to his lips, kissing the gold ring. ‘It’s going to be a long winter for me without you, but in the spring I hope you’ll have made up your mind.’
‘I will. I promise you that I will.’ She straightened her blouse, tucking it into the waistband of her navy blue serge skirt. ‘Now, let’s go home. If Nonna is in a good mood perhaps she’ll ask you to stay for supper.’
‘He’s a fine boy,’ Maria said, ladling boiled cabbage onto the macaroni and bacon. ‘You’ll be well cared for when you marry Gino. I don’t know why you can’t come with us and marry him right away. I could have a great-grandchild on my knee by next summer if only you would see sense. You shouldn’t give up your young life for that mother of yours.’
Phoebe smiled. She knew better than to argue with Nonna. ‘Shall I take this one up to Ma?’
Maria’s brow darkened. ‘She can come downstairs and eat with the family. I’m getting tired of her vapours. She’s done nothing but lie in bed all day. I think I could stand her going to the pub and coming home tipsy better than this pretence of being ill. She should get up and do a day’s work. I’m the slave round here, working my fingers to the bone while she swoons and playacts.’
Phoebe was struck with a sudden brilliant idea. She put the plate down. ‘Nonna, I think I have the solution. As I’m doing Ma’s readings and the table tipping and everything, I can’t help you as much as I used to, but I know a young girl who might just suit. She is a willing worker and will do as she’s told.’
‘Who is this you talk about? I can’t afford to pay a servant.’
‘It’s Dolly Fowler. You know, Ethel’s girl.’
Maria curled her lip. ‘I know Ethel. She’s a nasty woman.’
‘And she’s thrown poor Dolly out of the house. She beat her black and blue and put the poor girl in hospital.’
‘I heard that the girl is a simpleton
anyway, and I don’t need another sickly person to look after. Besides which, I don’t want Ethel Fowler banging on my door and causing trouble.’
‘She won’t do that, Nonna. She doesn’t want anything to do with Dolly.’
‘And I told you, one invalid in the house is quite enough.’
‘Dolly is getting better all the time and she’s in desperate need of somewhere to stay.’
‘I don’t know. We’ll be going to Italy soon. What will we do with her then?’
‘She can stay here with me and Ma. She can help me with the séances until Ma is well enough to take over again.’ Phoebe could see that her grandmother was weakening and she gave her a hug. ‘You are a generous woman, Nonna. You wouldn’t want to see a young girl put in the workhouse for want of a charitable deed, would you?’
Maria shook her head. ‘You could charm the birds from the trees when you put your mind to it. You remind me so much of my poor Paulo. If only he had kept away from the high mob he would be here today. He loved his mamma. He wouldn’t see me put upon by others.’
‘So you’ll give Dolly a chance then, Nonna?’
‘Did I say so? I don’t remember agreeing with you.’
Phoebe kissed her grandmother’s leathery cheek. ‘But you will, dear Nonna. You will do this for me and I’ll love you forever and ever.’
Pink in the face and smiling, Maria pushed her away. ‘You bad girl. When did I ever deny you anything?’
Phoebe blew her a kiss. ‘Thank you, Nonna. You’re an angel.’
‘I hope that isn’t one of your predictions, cara. I’m not ready to join my ancestors in heaven just yet.’ She picked up the ladle she had dropped when Phoebe hugged her. ‘Now go and get your mamma. I want her sitting at the table with the family or she gets no food tonight.’
‘Yes, Nonna. I’m going now.’
Annie had reluctantly agreed to come downstairs for supper, but she ate little and said even less although Gino did his best to draw her into conversation. As usual, Julio and Lorenzo ate in silence, wolfing their food with evident enjoyment even though it was the same meal that their mother placed on the table every evening. Thrift was the keyword in the Giamatti family, and as Fabio was always telling them, it was through these strict economies that they could afford to winter in Italy. When they had finished eating, he left the room and returned moments later to proudly display a new fowling piece that he had purchased in one of the most reputable gunsmiths in London.
‘That doesn’t look like it was cheap, Papa,’ Lorenzo said, winking at his brother. ‘Not much economy there, I don’t think.’
‘It will save money,’ Fabio replied calmly. ‘We will eat well when we return home in two weeks’ time.’ He passed the weapon to Lorenzo for his approval. ‘You boys can use my old guns and we will go up into the mountains and shoot game birds for the table.’ He glanced at his wife, grinning. ‘That is if Maria has not forgotten how to cook such delicacies.’
She tossed her head. ‘I’m the best cook in the whole of Lombardy and you know it, Fabio. We work hard here so that we can live like kings at home. I can’t wait to get on that boat which will take us away from this fog-bound island.’ She rose from the table and began collecting the dirty crockery. ‘Come, Phoebe, you can help.’ She shot a withering look at Annie. ‘I suppose you’re too tired now to do anything useful.’
Annie smiled weakly. ‘I’ll do what I can, Mamma.’
Fabio took his gun from Julio and polished the stock with his sleeve. ‘I must put you to bed, my little one. We will have a fine time hunting, you and I.’
Julio pushed back his chair, grinning. ‘I’m going outside for a game of morra. Are you coming with me, Gino? As I recall you won last time.’
‘I can beat you whenever I choose,’ Gino said, puffing out his chest. He stood up, leaning over to catch Phoebe by the hand as she started to clear the table. ‘You don’t mind, do you, cara?’
She smiled. ‘Of course not, Gino. Go ahead and beat my uncles.’
‘You don’t ask her, Gino,’ Lorenzo said lazily. ‘You tell the little woman what you intend to do, or you just do it and let her find out the hard way.’
Julio slipped his arm around Gino’s shoulders. ‘You have to start married life on the right foot, amico.’
‘You would know all about that, of course, Julio,’ Phoebe said lightly. ‘Having been a bachelor for all your twenty-eight years, you are the expert.’
Julio tossed a crust of bread at her. ‘You are not too old to put over my knee.’
‘Children, that’s enough.’ Maria picked up a pile of plates and headed for the scullery. ‘You are supposed to be her uncles, not her brothers. It’s about time you boys grew up into men and had families of your own. And you, Gino,’ she jerked her head in his direction. ‘Try to persuade my little Phoebe to come to Italy with us. I would like to see you both married in the church by the lake this year, while the leaves are still on the trees.’
Holding her hand to her forehead, Annie moved towards the door. ‘All this talk makes me dizzy. I’m going to lie down, Phoebe. You can help Nonna with the dishes, can’t you?’
‘Yes, Ma. Of course.’ Phoebe shot a wary glance at her grandmother, hoping that she would not make a fuss, but Maria merely shrugged her shoulders and cast her eyes heavenwards.
With a conspiratorial wink in Phoebe’s direction, Gino took Julio by the arm. ‘Come then, amico. I challenge you and Lorenzo to a game of morra. Let’s see who’s the better player.’
A diversion had been created and Phoebe seized the opportunity to hurry her mother from the room. ‘Go to bed, Ma. I’ll bring you up a cup of tea later, but now I’d best help Nonna and keep her happy.’
Annie gave her a weary smile. ‘You’re a good girl, Phoebe. I don’t know what I’d have done without you these past weeks.’ She made her way towards the staircase, moving slowly as if each step was an effort. Phoebe felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. It was surely not right for a woman to be as tired and listless so early in pregnancy. She shivered, but the feeling passed quickly and a sharp summons from her grandmother brought her back to the present. She must keep up the charade for another two weeks, and then she could concentrate on caring for her mother without fear of revealing her condition to the family. But for now her most pressing problem was how to break the news to Nonna that Dolly was to be allowed out of hospital the following day, and she had promised to collect her.
Next morning, Phoebe conducted a table tipping session for the wives of two of the ice cream sellers. The bereaved sisters wanted to be certain that their dear departed mother, having suffered a long and painful last illness, was well and happy on the other side. They confessed that their husbands had no knowledge of what they proposed to do and that they would disapprove strongly of such a heathen practice. Phoebe assured them that what happened in the darkened room was as safe as the confessional in church. When the table began to rock, seemingly of its own accord, their anxious questions were answered by mysterious taps on the floor. Phoebe had no idea how this process worked, but the fact was that it did, and her clients left in a much happier frame of mind than when they had arrived. Satisfied that she had done her best for them, she pocketed the money, intending to use it for the cab fare when she brought Dolly home from the hospital.
The moment she left the house she was assailed by doubts. Phoebe was well aware that Ethel Fowler had no intention of taking care of her daughter, but she felt that she had to make certain. She did not want to fall foul of the law and give the cunning Fowler family the opportunity to say that Dolly had been kidnapped. They were an unscrupulous lot, and might demand money by way of compensation. She could not allow that to happen, but it was with a degree of trepidation that she returned to Bleeding Heart Yard. She had no idea if she would find Ethel at home, but as luck would have it she caught her just as she was about to leave the house.
‘What d’you want?’ Ethel demanded, glaring at her with narrowed eyes. ‘If you�
�ve come to ask me to take that ungrateful wretch back you’re in for a disappointment.’
Phoebe drew back a pace. The smell of sour spirits mixed with unwashed body odour was almost overpowering. Ethel’s eyes were bloodshot and the hair escaping from beneath a grubby mobcap was matted, with lice clinging to several of the grey strands. Phoebe shook her head. ‘Not exactly, Mrs Fowler. But she is going to be discharged from hospital today and I thought you should know. She is your daughter after all.’
‘She’s a grown woman now and not my responsibility. The stupid little cow refused the best offer she’s ever likely to get so I’ve washed me hands of her. She can go out and earn her own living.’
‘So you don’t care what happens to her?’
Ethel moved a step closer, her lips drawn back in a snarl, exposing decayed and broken teeth which put Phoebe in mind of a row of tumbledown cottages. ‘That’s right, missy. I don’t care. She lost me a small fortune and I don’t care if I never sets eyes on her again.’
‘And that’s your last word, is it?’
‘Me very last, so sling yer hook.’
Phoebe walked away, torn between feelings of relief and sorrow. She was relieved that there would be no repercussions from the Fowlers if she took Dolly home with her, but she was deeply distressed by Ethel’s uncaring attitude towards her daughter. She wondered how she was going to tell Dolly that her mother had abandoned her.
When she arrived in the ward she found her sitting on a chair beside the neatly made up bed. She was fully dressed, and apart from the bandages which covered her head she looked surprisingly alert. She smiled and flushed with pleasure when she saw Phoebe. ‘Have you brought me some ice cream?’
The nurse who had been on duty when Dolly was admitted came bustling up to them. ‘Good morning, miss. Have you come to take my patient home?’
Phoebe nodded. ‘Yes, if she wishes to come with me.’
‘I don’t want to go to Ma’s,’ Dolly said with her bottom lip trembling. ‘Don’t send me back there.’
‘No, I won’t do that.’ Phoebe held out her hand. ‘I’m taking you home with me. We’ll look after you.’
