A Mother's Trust Read Free Page B

‘The only place he’ll lead us to is the cemetery, Ma. He’s nothing but trouble and his brother is even worse.’
    Annie threw back her head and laughed. ‘Got your own crystal ball now, have you, ducks?’ She looked up at Paxman as he passed her a fresh drink. ‘Ta, Rogue. Come and sit beside me and we’ll have a nice cosy chat. My girl’s just leaving.’
    Phoebe hesitated, meeting his amused gaze with a stubborn tilt of her chin. She hated this man with a passion, and his worthless brother too. It was rumoured that the Paxman family had been involved in criminal activities for generations, and they lived in some style in a large house overlooking Charterhouse Gardens. Rogue had been born to the life and although there was a degree of respect for his gang locally, this was tempered by fear. The only thing that could be said of the Paxman mob was that they kept the other high mobs at bay. Their rule was absolute and their code was law to those who lived by it. Phoebe had heard her grandfather complaining that if the police had as much control of the streets as the Paxman brothers, this part of London would be a safer place. Phoebe could not agree. The law was there to protect honest citizens, and must be upheld without resorting to the bullying tactics adopted by the Paxmans. That’s what her father had taught her and she clung to that belief.
    Refusing to return Paxman’s ironic smile, she felt anger roil in her belly. She would not see her mother tread the path that had led to the death of her beloved Paulo. Phoebe knew that the men her mother flirted with meant nothing to her, and her addiction to strong drink was a feeble attempt to escape from the hopelessness of her situation. Ma might be weak, but she was a good woman at heart. Of that Phoebe was certain. She snatched the glass from her mother’s hand. ‘No, Ma. You’ve had enough.’
    Paxman sat astride a chair, and his eyes mocked her. ‘Isn’t that up to your mother, Miss Giamatti?’
    Phoebe knew that he was laughing at her and this only added to her sense of anger and frustration. ‘Mind your own business, Rogue Paxman. I’m taking my mother home. She’s not well.’
    Annie had paled visibly and Gino was plucking nervously at Phoebe’s sleeve. ‘Come, cara,’ he whispered. ‘This is not good.’
    ‘Sensible chap,’ Paxman said lazily. ‘Take the little tigress home where she belongs.’
    Annie made a grab for the glass, but Phoebe held it out of her reach. ‘No, Ma. You’ll make yourself ill again.’
    Two bright spots of colour stood out on Annie’s cheeks. ‘I’m your mother, Phoebe. You’ll do as I say. Give me my drink.’
    ‘Yes, don’t be a silly girl,’ Paxman said, grinning. ‘Go home and play with your dolls, or polish your crystal ball.’
    Taking a deep breath, Phoebe tossed back the gin with a defiant flick of her wrist, but the unaccustomed spirit caught the back of her throat and she coughed and spluttered as she struggled for breath. Tears ran down her cheeks and someone was slapping her on the back. A handkerchief was thrust into her hands and she mopped her streaming eyes.
    ‘That will teach you not to do stupid things,’ Paxman said, chuckling.
    Realising that it was his hanky that she held in her hand, Phoebe thrust it back at him. ‘Leave me alone.’
    ‘Come now,’ Gino urged, eyeing Paxman nervously. ‘This is no place for you, Phoebe.’
    ‘Quite right, Gino, my boy.’ Paxman nodded in approval. ‘Take her away from here.’
    Phoebe drew herself up to her full height. ‘Go away, Gino. This has nothing to do with you.’ Ignoring his muttered protests, she reached out again to her mother. ‘Please come home, Ma.’ She blinked as the room seemed to tilt sideways, or perhaps it was her head that was spinning. She could not work out which, but the gin was certainly having an effect. ‘Please, Ma,’ she added faintly.
    Annie rose unsteadily to her feet. ‘You stupid girl. Get out of here.’ She