A Mother's Trust

by Dilly Court

  After the last crumb of plum pudding and brandy butter had been scraped off the plates, eaten and digested, Herbert’s punch was drunk in a succession of toasts to each and every one in the room. Then Fred suggested that they might play parlour games, but Judy rose from the table saying that it would be more to the point if he helped with the washing up. Shamed into subservience, he began clearing the table and Herbert leapt to his feet declaring that he was not a man to sit back and be waited on when there was work to be done. Rose had a fit of the giggles when she saw her father with Judy’s calico apron straining at its strings as he tied it around his large belly and rolled up his sleeves in preparation to wash the pots and pans. In the end everyone lent a hand, and when the kitchen was restored to its former pristine state they retired to Judy’s front parlour where a fire burned brightly and candles had been lit. This was another honour rarely bestowed upon the lodgers, as Rose said in an aside to Phoebe, and Judy unbent enough to allow Fred to conduct parlour games of charades, forfeits and similes. They roasted the chestnuts on a coal shovel and ended the evening with cocoa, although Phoebe rather suspected that Herbert and Fred laced theirs with the remainder of the brandy.

  Altogether it was a happy occasion, and Phoebe was delighted to see her mother smiling and looking like her old self again, but she could see a shadow hanging over them. She could not shake off the nagging worry as to how the baby would be received by the family when they returned from Italy. She could imagine their horrified reaction when they discovered who had fathered Annie’s bastard child, and this was not Phoebe’s only problem. She was painfully aware that she would have to give Gino his answer when they were reunited in the spring. She realised with a pang of regret that she had barely given him a thought since the day they parted. Surely that was not a good basis for marriage. She wished she could confide in someone but the only person to whom she could talk was Rose, and she had her own problems.

  It had come to Phoebe’s notice on several occasions that Rose was not immune to the charms of a certain illusionist and conjuror. She blushed whenever his name was mentioned, and Phoebe had seen the way she looked at him when she thought she was unobserved. Her heart went out to her friend, but she thought she could do better than a man who was patently in love with himself. Caspar Collins was arrogant and full of his own self-importance. Phoebe did not like him at all, and she was not looking forward to his return in the middle of January when the pantomime season ended. Her poor opinion of him was not helped when he appeared a day earlier than expected and announced quite casually that Hyacinth had left him to marry a man who owned a glue factory in Bow. He was, Caspar said, old enough to be her father, and it went without saying that the gentleman in question was well-to-do. Rose giggled almost hysterically when she heard this but was stricken with an attack of hiccups which rendered her speechless. She retreated hastily to the sanctity of her small office, leaving Phoebe to deal with a puzzled Caspar. ‘What is funny about Hyacinth leaving me in the lurch?’ he demanded, eyeing Phoebe suspiciously.

  She controlled her own desire to giggle, clutching her hands tightly behind her back and digging her fingernails into her palms. She had not laughed so much since Christmas Day when Fred was attempting to mime Spring-heeled Jack and tripped over a footstool falling onto Madame Galina’s lap. She took a deep breath. ‘I think it was the mention of the glue factory, Mr Collins.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘The fellow smelt of boiling bones, which was quite disgusting, but then Hyacinth was and is a little gold-digger. I hope she’s happy with her mansion in Bow and her elderly husband, but the wretched girl has left me without an assistant and I’m top of the bill next week.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Phoebe murmured, backing away towards the fortune-telling booth where her costume was stored in readiness for the matinee performance. ‘I’m sure you’ll find someone suitable.’

  ‘That’s easier said than done.’ Caspar fixed her with his hypnotic gaze. ‘You are doing well, I hear. You have second sight, perhaps?’

  ‘No, certainly not.’ Phoebe was horrified at the thought. ‘It’s all patter. I learned it from my mother.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said doubtfully. ‘But I sense an aura about you, Phoebe. I did from the very first time we met and I offered to take you as my assistant.’

  ‘Hyacinth was working for you then. It wasn’t a very nice thing to do.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I knew she would be off at the first opportunity, but the offer still holds. You have unfathomed depths. I think we could work well together.’

  ‘I’m very flattered, sir.’ Phoebe lifted the flap ready to slip into the booth. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably and she would have liked to put as much distance between them as possible, but she had work to do. ‘Excuse me. I must get changed now.’

  He moved slowly towards her, holding her with his eyes. ‘We will talk later. Perhaps you would have supper with me after tonight’s performance?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I have to get home. My mother …’

  ‘Is a grown woman and perfectly able to look after herself for an extra hour or two. We will have dinner together, you and I, Phoebe Giamatti. I won’t take no for an answer. When the show ends tonight I’ll be waiting outside the theatre in a cab. I’ll expect you to join me. After all, you have nothing to lose and much to gain.’ With a flourish of his scarlet-lined opera cloak he stepped out into the street, pausing to set his top hat at an angle on his head.

  Phoebe sank down on the stool inside the booth. She was inexplicably breathless as if she had been running. She laid her hand on the cool crystal ball and closed her eyes. She could see Caspar’s coldly handsome face. He was standing a little way from her and his sapphire blue eyes drew her inexorably towards him. He opened his arms and she walked into them as if drawn by an invisible cord. The crystal was suddenly white hot. It burned her fingers and she withdrew her hand, leaping to her feet and sending the stool tumbling to the ground.

  ‘Phoebe, whatever is the matter?’ Rose stuck her head into the booth, her face puckered with concern. ‘Where’s Caspar?’

  ‘He left a few minutes ago.’ Phoebe bent down to pick up the stool. ‘Are you all right now?’

  ‘I was going to ask you the same question. Did he say something to upset you?’

  ‘Not really. He asked me to help him in his act, that’s all.’

  ‘Lucky you. I wish he’d ask me. I’d do anything for him.’

  ‘Then why don’t you tell him so? I’m sure you’d make a much better assistant than me, and anyway we won’t be here much longer. Ma’s time is near, a few weeks at the most, and when the baby is born we’ll be heading back to London.’

  Rose’s mouth dropped at the corners. ‘I know, and I wish you could stay here forever. I’ve never had the chance to make friends my own age and I’m very fond of you, Phoebe.’

  ‘You should have a life of your own, Rose. You do everything for your father but you ought to think of yourself for once.’

  ‘He needs me. I know he behaves badly when he’s had too much to drink, but the rest of the time he’s a lamb and I couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.’

  ‘I think he could manage very well without you, and one day you’ll get married and your father will have to take second place to your husband and children.’

  ‘He’s like a child himself, Phoebe. I think he’ll always be with me.’

  ‘Then that’s all the more reason for you to be more independent. Speak to Caspar this evening.’

  Rose looked baffled. ‘He’s not due to perform his act until Monday.’

  ‘He asked me out to supper after the show tonight. Just to discuss business, you understand,’ Phoebe added hastily. ‘There’s nothing romantic between us, I promise you, Rose.’

  ‘Maybe not on your part, but I think he fancies you.’

  ‘No. Not at all. He’s cold as stone. I doubt if he has a heart, and if he has it’s in the shape of a money bag. All he thinks about is h
is career and his wretched act.’ Phoebe angled her head, gazing at Rose as an idea struck her. ‘You go in my place. I don’t want to have supper with Caspar and it would give you a chance to be alone with him.’

  The colour drained from Rose’s cheeks. ‘I couldn’t. I mean, if he wanted to take me to supper he would have asked me and not you.’

  ‘Perhaps he needs a little push in the right direction. You and I are about the same height. You could take my place when he calls for me this evening. With the hood of your cloak pulled over your bonnet it would hide your face and it will be dark inside the cab. He won’t discover the deception until you are in the restaurant. Even then I doubt if he would want to create a scene.’

  Rose clasped her hands together, the doubtful look fading from her eyes only to be replaced by a mischievous sparkle. ‘Do you think I could get away with it?’

  ‘Of course, or I wouldn’t have suggested it.’

  ‘Then I’ll do it, Phoebe.’

  Herbert had left the theatre early. Phoebe suspected that he had gone to the pub, but on this occasion she was grateful for his absence, and as long as her mother was not involved in the drinking session she really did not care what happened to Rose’s wayward parent. Rose was nervous about the deception but Phoebe was confident that all would be well. She was convinced that Caspar would be flattered by her friend’s sincere admiration for him and her desire to help him further his career. Rose was young, pretty and intelligent. She was also hard-working and loyal, which might prove difficult if her father objected to her working for Caspar, but Phoebe could only hope that Herbert would put Rose first for once and allow her to have a life of her own. She gave Rose an encouraging hug and watched through the glass door until she was safely inside the waiting carriage. Peeping through the flap she gave a sigh of relief when it drove off; so far so good. She went back to counting the evening’s takings, and when she had deducted the rent for the booth and set it aside for Marcus, she placed the remaining coins in a leather pouch together with the rest of the week’s profits, which would cover the cost of their bed and board. She secured it round her waist where it would be almost impossible for a pickpocket to touch it without her realising what was happening. Having been brought up in the stews of London’s East End she was only too well aware of the dangers lurking round every dark corner, and even though Brighton was on the whole a safer place to live than Saffron Hill, she was always on her guard.

  Having waited until the conveyance carrying Caspar and Rose had turned the corner at the end of the street, Phoebe set off for home, but she had not gone further than a few yards when she heard the rumble of carriage wheels and the sound of horse’s hooves on the cobblestones behind her. She stopped, waiting to cross the road to the seafront, but to her surprise the cab drew to a halt in front of her and Caspar leaned out of the window. ‘Get in.’

  She stared at him, nonplussed by the curt order. ‘No, thank you. I’m going home.’

  Rose’s anguished face appeared over Caspar’s shoulder. ‘Please don’t argue, Phoebe. Just get in. It’s all gone horribly wrong.’

  Chapter Ten

  RELUCTANTLY PHOEBE CLIMBED into the carriage and sat beside Rose, who was trembling and tears were flowing down her pale cheeks. ‘What’s the matter?’ Phoebe demanded anxiously. ‘What has he said to you?’

  Caspar leaned back against the squabs, banging the roof of the cab with his ebony cane. ‘Drive on, cabby.’

  ‘No, wait.’ Phoebe stuck her head out of the window. ‘Please, just wait a moment.’

  ‘I got a living to make, miss.’ The cabby blew on his gloved hands. ‘Don’t make no money standing still.’

  ‘Just give me a minute. The gentleman will pay.’ Phoebe sat back in her seat, glaring at Caspar. ‘What have you done to upset Rose like this?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Nothing, other than to tell her the truth. I’m not interested in the daughter of a drunken failure. I don’t want my act spoiled by association with the likes of Jackson. I wanted to take you out to supper, Phoebe. I have matters to discuss with you alone, and I don’t enjoy being taken for a fool.’

  ‘Let me out of the cab,’ Rose said on a sob. ‘I wish I’d never agreed to do this. It was a terrible mistake.’

  ‘Now there I must agree with you,’ Caspar said with a tight little smile. ‘You are free to go, Miss Jackson. But Phoebe promised to accompany me to dine and I’m keeping her to it.’

  Phoebe thrust the carriage door open. ‘Get out, Rose, and wait for me. I have a few choice words to say to Mr Collins.’

  ‘Just come away now.’ Rose leapt from the cab, landing on the damp pavement in a flurry of petticoats. ‘Come on, Phoebe.’

  ‘Leave now and you’ll regret that you behaved in such a stupid fashion,’ Caspar said in a low voice. ‘Work with me and I can promise you a better life than you’ve ever dreamed of.’

  ‘I wouldn’t work with you if my life depended on it, Caspar Collins. How dare you treat poor Rose like this when all she ever wanted was your good opinion? What sort of man are you?’

  He leaned towards her so that their faces were close. His eyes glittered with malice. ‘The sort of man who is dangerous to cross. I never forget a slight, however small. You’ll be sorry for trying to make a fool of me.’

  ‘You don’t frighten me. I grew up in an area run by the high mob, and they would make short work of a toff like you.’ Turning her back on him, Phoebe stepped down to join Rose. She would not let Caspar see that she was trembling from head to foot, although it was more from anger than fear. She was furious with him and angry with herself for putting Rose in such an invidious position. She slipped her arm around Rose’s shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry. This was all my fault.’

  Rose watched the cab disappearing into the darkness. She shook her head, smiling ruefully. ‘No. I’m as much to blame. I didn’t have to go along with your idea. It serves me right for being such a simpleton.’

  ‘You weren’t to know what he was like. Neither of us saw through him.’ Phoebe glanced up at the sky. The clouds had merged into a dark mass and large spots of sleety rain had begun to fall. ‘Let’s hail the next cab and treat ourselves to a ride home. I did rather well in the booth tonight.’ She patted her waist but there was no comforting jingle of coins. She opened her cloak searching for the pouch but it had gone. ‘He’s nothing but a bloody thief,’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘Would you believe it, Rose? That toff is on the dip. He’s bagged my whole week’s takings. That’s the rent money gone. How will I explain that to Judy?’

  ‘We’ll tell Marcus. He’s a fair man. He’ll make Caspar give it back.’

  ‘It’ll be our word against Caspar’s. He’s top of the bill, Rose. I don’t think Marcus will want to offend his best act. I’m only there on sufferance, and if you and your pa lose your jobs at the theatre you’ll be hard pressed to find work to keep you until summer.’

  ‘What will you do?’ Rose pulled her hood up as the sleet turned to hail. ‘Let’s hurry home. We won’t do any good by standing here and catching our death of cold.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Phoebe linked arms with her and they started to battle their way against the storm. ‘I’ve got a bit put aside for Ma and the baby, but I’ll have to use that until I can find a way to make Caspar give me back my money.’

  ‘You could agree to work for him, I suppose.’ Rose shot her a sideways glance, wrinkling her nose as hard pellets of ice slapped her face. ‘That’s what he really wants.’

  Phoebe eyed her thoughtfully. ‘That’s not as daft as it sounds. Perhaps I ought to play Mr Collins at his own game, for the time being anyway. Just until Ma gives birth and then we’ve got to return to London. Maybe by seeming to let him win I can get back what belongs to me and put him in his place for good.’

  ‘You seem to have dropped this in the cab,’ Caspar said, smiling and holding up the missing leather pouch.

  ‘Yes, thank you. I thought I’d lost it.’ Phoebe resisted the temptation to sna
tch it from him. She had swallowed her pride and had come into the theatre earlier than normal in order to tell Caspar that she had changed her mind, and would be delighted to accept his offer. To make matters worse he seemed to have anticipated her change of heart and was unsurprised by her decision, but he was at his most charming and it was almost impossible to believe that this was the same man who had threatened her with ruin just a few hours previously.

  He pressed the pouch into her hands. ‘When we perform together we will make more than this in one performance. You and I will conquer the whole country and that will be just the beginning.’

  Doubtful and feeling slightly sick, Phoebe took the purse from him. Their fingers touched and she felt a tingle run down her spine. Despite the fact that she knew his charming smile was a veneer, she could see why Rose had fallen for this man. Looking into his deep blue eyes she felt herself weakening. She could imagine his well moulded lips caressing hers and those long, tapering fingers stroking her skin. She clutched the money bag tightly in her hands, dragging her gaze away with difficulty. She must not allow him to hypnotise her into becoming his devoted slave. ‘I’ll give my purse to Rose for safe keeping,’ she murmured, moving to the edge of the stage where the steps led down into the auditorium.

  ‘Of course,’ he said evenly. ‘We’ll begin rehearsals as soon as you return. I have a new illusion that will stun the audience, but it will take time to perfect. We have until Monday. Do you think you are up to it, Phoebe Giamatti?’

  ‘I hope so, but I still have my work to do in the theatre.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve already spoken to Marcus. You work for me now.’

  ‘But the fortune-telling booth …’

  ‘Is being dismantled as we speak.’

  Phoebe could see that to argue would be useless. She must keep up the fiction that she was happy to work for the great Caspar, but it would not be for long. She turned and ran down the steps not daring to look back at him although she could feel his gaze upon her.