A Mother's Trust by Dilly Court

earth she would have asked for help, was oddly comforting. The children scattered before them, regrouping in doorways to watch suspiciously as Phoebe and Paxman entered the house. They were still there when Paxman re-emerged carrying Dolly in his arms. Phoebe collared the eldest and most intelligent-looking boy. ‘I want you to tell Mrs Fowler that we’ve taken Dolly to St Bartholomew’s hospital. Can you remember that?’
    He nodded and his eyes widened as she thrust a halfpenny into his hand.
    ‘Good boy. Don’t forget to tell her. It’s very important.’ She watched the boy scuttle off clutching the money as though afraid she might change her mind and take it back. Life is strange, she thought, as she followed Paxman who was holding Dolly in his arms as though she were a baby. Here was the notorious gang leader, carrying Dolly as carefully and tenderly as a father with an injured child. If she had not seen it with her own eyes she would not have believed it possible that a man with such a fearsome reputation could have shown such compassion for a stranger. She climbed up to sit beside him as he cradled the insensible Dolly.
    ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I’m not an ogre, but in my line of business I have to be tough. That doesn’t mean I’m totally without feeling.’
    Refusing to be cajoled by his studied charm, Phoebe concentrated her attention on Dolly. ‘She’s very pale.’
    ‘She’s half starved. She weighs almost nothing. Who’s responsible for this child?’
    ‘She lives with her mother, Ethel Fowler, the cobbler’s widow.’
    ‘That explains it. Old Fowler was a miser and his wife’s a harpy.’
    Phoebe could not contain her curiosity. ‘How do you know them?’
    ‘I wear boots that need to be mended, just like any man. And old Fowler fancied his chances on the gaming tables. Our paths crossed once or twice.’
    Phoebe shot him a covert glance beneath her lashes. His profile was straight and strong, reminiscent of some of the marble statues she had seen once on a visit to Milan when she was a child. He looked up suddenly, as if sensing her close scrutiny, and she averted her face. She would not give him the satisfaction of thinking that she was at all interested in a person of his low calling. She smothered a sigh of relief as the cab drew up outside the hospital.
    Paxman carried Dolly into the reception area and immediately commanded the attention of a young nurse who almost fell over herself in her attempts to please him. Cynically aware that he was exercising his considerable charm in order to get his own way, Phoebe followed them into a small cubicle, but she was immediately ousted by a senior nurse who appeared as if from nowhere and ordered her to take a seat in the waiting area. She perched on the edge of the hard wooden bench and was joined a few minutes later by Paxman, who sat down beside her.
    ‘Thank you, but there’s no need for you to stay,’ she said stiffly. She felt even more ill at ease in his company now that the immediate crisis was past, and she became aware that they were attracting curious stares from the patients waiting to be seen.
    ‘I agree.’ He rose to his feet. ‘I could serve young Dolly better if I went to find that mother of hers. Not that I think Ethel Fowler would be a ministering angel and her rat-catcher sister is even worse, but the child needs to have someone present who is responsible for her welfare.’
    Phoebe opened her mouth to protest, but he forestalled her with a smile.
    ‘She’s lucky to have you, of course, but when all is said and done I think you have enough on your hands looking after your own mother.’
    Phoebe’s heart gave an uncomfortable flick against her ribs. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Ma,’ she said quickly. Too quickly, she realised when she met his intent gaze. This was a man who was nobody’s fool.
    ‘I didn’t say there was. I hope she’s not pining for my errant brother. He