Belle
Page 50
‘Maybe we will never meet again,’ she said as she embraced Belle. ‘You will always be welcome here of course, but I understand there may be too many bad memories for you to return. But take away in your heart my affection for you, and my hopes that your dreams will come true. You did more for me than you’ll ever know.’
There was no way Belle could turn back now as the train was picking up speed. So she sat down and focused her attention on Noah to prevent herself thinking of Etienne’s tears.
‘Is Lisette going to come to England?’ she asked. Noah had met up with her twice in the past week but he hadn’t said anything much about the meetings.
‘She said she wanted to, but it may prove too daunting for her.’
‘That’s because she may not think you are entirely serious,’ Belle said. ‘A woman with a child needs to feel secure. You must make her feel that way by bombarding her with letters telling her all the best things about London. Promise her that she’s under no obligation to you, yet say you are looking forward to getting to know her son. That should do it.’
Noah smiled. ‘You make it sound so easy. But we had so little time together for me to show her that I am dependable and not a rake.’
‘She would be able to see that just by looking at you,’ Belle said. She had come to look upon Noah as a brother; she liked his openness and enthusiasm, and the way there was nothing hidden or complicated with him. ‘And she’ll have me nearby to tell her about women’s stuff and for her to confide in. Then there’s Mog – she’s going to welcome her with open arms for being so kind to me.’
‘And what about you and Jimmy?’ Noah asked pointedly. ‘That telegram he sent sounded like he was counting the minutes till he saw you.’
Belle winced. She too had sensed that Jimmy was expecting a great deal, and in the light of how she felt about Etienne, that was a huge worry. ‘You must promise me you won’t say much about Etienne to him. Let me find a way to let him down gently.’
‘Give him a chance,’ Noah said pleadingly. ‘As I see it, Etienne is like a tiger; he’s strong, brave and noble, but he’s dangerous too. Jimmy may be more like a domesticated cat, but he’s smart, affectionate, proud, loyal, and he’d fight tooth and nail for you. Don’t shut your heart down to him before you’ve seen him and got to know him again.’
‘No, I won’t,’ Belle said. Then, sitting back in her seat, she closed her eyes and pretended she was going to sleep. She wanted to remember those words Etienne had said in French.
She could understand the first part, that he would brave fire, but she couldn’t translate the rest. The speed with which he came up with the sentence, together with his tears, suggested it was something she’d want to hear, yet if fire was the first thing that came into his head, surely that proved his wife was on his mind?
Belle would never be able to forget her shock and joy when Etienne came hurtling through the door at Pascal’s house. Even in her wildest hopes of rescue she had never once thought of him being her saviour, or that she’d ever see him again. But there were moments too when Philippe came into the room, and he and Etienne were tying Pascal up, that she thought she was dreaming it all. Then all at once she was in the hospital bed, with a doctor giving her something to sleep, and she thought she’d gone mad and imagined it all.
In the days that followed Etienne had been the one who brought her out of shock, distress and hopelessness. Once Noah told her about his wife and children she understood why he was the one person who had the power to help her deal with it all.
She couldn’t help but hope he held deep feelings for her. But perhaps that was just nature’s way of trying to compensate for the trauma she’d suffered. He certainly hadn’t said anything to encourage her hope.
In the last few days as he took her about Paris, he hadn’t so much as hinted that his affection for her was anything more than that of a friend or brother. He hadn’t kissed her again like he had on the way to New Orleans either.
Realistically she was also aware that her own feelings were possibly distorted. She might be placing him on a pedestal because he’d rescued her; he was also the only man who was never likely to throw her past back at her, and that was comforting.
Yet for all she knew, Pascal might have cast such a dark shadow over her that she might discover she was unable to give herself to any man ever again.
It was no good thinking Etienne’s tears meant he had fallen in love with her. He was still grieving, just as she was still haunted by her ordeal with Pascal. They had helped each other in their time of need, and perhaps that was all there was to it.
Belle and Noah walked out of Charing Cross railway station on to the concourse in the Strand in the early evening of the following day. They had stayed the night in Calais because Noah thought it would be too tiring for Belle to attempt to do the journey all in one day.
From the ferry she saw the white cliffs of Dover for the first time. She wondered how many English people over the years had felt choked up at the sight because it meant they were nearly home.
As the train chugged through the Kentish countryside, Belle marvelled at how lush and green everywhere was, and realized that the nearest she’d ever got to countryside before was in parks. It seemed extraordinary that she’d been to America and France, but had never seen a grazing cow or sheep until on this journey home.
As they drew closer to London Belle’s heart started to race, but as the train rattled over Hungerford Bridge and she saw the Thames gleaming pure silver in the sun, the dome of St Paul’s and Big Ben on the Houses of Parliament, she found it hard to stay in her seat for excitement.
The Strand was as busy as it always had been, but Belle noted there were far more motorcars now. Noah had been saying on the train that he wanted one, and he thought it would only be a year or two before they were more common than horses.
As they walked along the Strand and then crossed the road to go up through Covent Garden, Belle began walking faster and faster. ‘Slow down,’ Noah groaned, with a suitcase in each hand. ‘I can’t race with the luggage.’
Belle hardly heard him. She was back on home turf and in wonderland. ‘Everything looks smaller than I remember,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I thought the public houses were so big, the streets so wide, but they are small, even the people seem to have shrunk and grown quieter.’
Noah could only laugh. It all looked, sounded and smelled just the same to him, mucky and weary, wafts of stinking drains and horse droppings. The beggars, drunks, ragged children trying their hand at begging and the street vendors shouting out their wares were all just the same as when he left.
When Belle saw the Ram’s Head she started to run. People stopped to stare at her, and Noah thought that was hardly surprising, for she looked far more Parisian in her grey and white striped dress and jaunty little grey hat than like a girl from Seven Dials.
She hesitated at the saloon door, looking back at Noah as if for encouragement.
‘Go on in,’ he urged her.
Belle pushed open the door, her heart thumping so hard she felt anyone passing would be able to hear it.
The smell of beer and cigarette smoke slapped her in the face. She saw people turn to look at her and for a second she wanted to back away.
But then she heard Mog scream out her name, a sound of absolute joy, and tears came so suddenly that Belle was momentarily blinded.
The small figure in a dusty-pink dress pushing her way through the crowded bar didn’t look like the woman who had mothered her. ‘Belle, my beautiful Belle,’ she said, and the mist of tears cleared enough for Belle to see that Mog was crying too, arms outstretched wide to embrace her.
A loud cheer went up, fifty or so male voices raised in welcome. Mog’s arms were round her, hugging her so tight that any trepidation vanished.
‘Let me look at you!’ Mog said.
Silence fell and all faces turned to the two women holding hands, crying and laughing at the same time as they studied each other.
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p; ‘Welcome home, sweetheart!’ someone shouted out, and a roar went up with a great stamping of feet.
Belle didn’t recognize anyone, though she supposed they were all men who had seen her growing up. But she knew their delight was really for Mog. The woman she’d loved all her life was loved by all these people too.
Garth came forward then, but he had changed too. He was just as big as she remembered but his red hair and his beard which had been so unkempt were now neatly cut. He wore a dazzling white shirt, the sleeves rolled up above his mighty forearms, and an emerald-green waistcoat with small brass buttons. But the real difference was his wide smile; she’d seen him throughout her childhood, but he’d always looked so sour and mean.
‘My, you’ve grown into a beauty!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s good to have you home. Now, where’s Jimmy? He’s been pacing up and down all day, checking the time and looking out the door, and now he isn’t even here!’
‘I am here, Uncle,’ Jimmy’s voice rang out, and everyone turned to see him standing quietly by the window where he’d clearly been all along. ‘I just wanted Mog to be able to greet her first.’
His voice had deepened and he was a good three or four inches taller than Belle remembered. His shoulders were almost as broad as his uncle’s, and his once spiky, carroty hair had grown darker and he’d let it grow a little longer which suited him far better.
The picture Belle had held of him in her mind was of a skinny, freckled-faced boy with tawny eyes, a polite manner and the look of a street urchin, but this Jimmy was a man, handsome, poised and confident. Only his tawny eyes were the same.
‘He never gave up on you,’ Garth said, and the look he gave his nephew was one of pride. ‘Well, come on, you great lummox, come and give her a hug!’
Belle felt that the Jimmy she’d once known would have shrivelled up with embarrassment at such an order, but this new one didn’t. He came towards her in three or four strides, swept her up in his arms and swung her round.
‘I thought this day would never come,’ he said as she squealed in surprise. ‘You can’t know how good it is to see you again.’
Garth stepped behind the bar and rang the bell for silence.
‘This is the day we’ve all been waiting for,’ he said, his voice booming out around the bar. ‘It’s time for celebration with our Belle home safe and sound. I only really know her through Mog and Jimmy, but I’m looking forward to getting to know her as family. Before I give the order for drinks on the house for everyone, I just want to offer very special thanks to Noah. Without his help and tenacity Belle would have been lost to us for ever.
‘He isn’t family, he hadn’t even met Belle before she was snatched. But Mog asked him for his help, and he gave it willingly. For two years he’s been our rock, comforting Mog, supporting Jimmy, advising, writing articles, badgering the police and God knows what else. We consider him family now too. And he’s brought our Belle home. So let’s give him a Seven Dials salute that can be heard right back in France.’
The cheering went on and on, so loud that Belle and Mog put their hands over their ears. Noah looked embarrassed, but Jimmy and Garth grabbed him, lifted him up on to their shoulders and joined in the cheering.
For Belle it was both heaven and hell. While it was wonderful to see her return creating such joy, and for Noah to have the appreciation he deserved, what she really wanted was to be alone with Mog, and Jimmy too, to sit down comfortably and talk. Not to be trapped in a smoky bar with a whole lot of strangers making such a din.
Noah was put down, Garth went behind the bar to hand out drinks, and suddenly Jimmy was there, putting one arm around Mog, the other round Belle.
‘Go on through the back,’ he said. ‘You’ve got two years of catching up to do.’
Mog did exactly what Belle had imagined all the way home. She made a pot of tea. The noise from the bar was only marginally quieter in the kitchen but she appeared not to notice it.
‘It feels so strange,’ she said as she got a fruit cake out of a tin and put it on a plate. ‘Since I’ve known you were coming home I rehearsed everything I would say, thought of all the questions I wanted to ask, but now you’re here I can’t think of anything to say.’
‘It’s the same for me,’ Belle admitted. ‘There’s not even the familiar things around from the old house to prompt me.’
‘Don’t you like it?’ Mog sounded so anxious Belle couldn’t help but laugh.
‘It’s much, much nicer,’ she said. She was speaking the truth. The old kitchen had been the only home she’d known, but it had been too big to be cosy, and it had always felt gloomy because it was a semi-basement. It was now dusk outside, but there was still light coming through the large window by the sink, and it looked as if the lemon-coloured walls had only recently been painted. There were yellow checked curtains at the window and a tablecloth to match. By the stove was a rag rug and two easy chairs with patchwork cushions. The dresser was full of pretty china, and even the shelves that held rows of glass jars containing everything from flour to brown sugar and rice had a little scalloped edging that had been painted yellow too.
It was clearly all Mog’s work. Belle remembered she was always titivating things back in the old place for she was a born homemaker, but perhaps because Annie was reluctant to spend money on anywhere which wasn’t seen by her ‘gentlemen’, there could only be small improvements.
‘It was a hell hole when I first came here,’ Mog said. ‘Men living alone are such pigs!’
‘So tell me about the fire and even more importantly about Garth. Noah tells me you are getting married.’
With that the ice was broken, and Mog talked animatedly about coming here to live, cleaning up the place and finally falling for Garth and his proposal of marriage.
‘We’re two of a kind,’ she said with a loving smile that showed how happy she was with him. ‘Or maybe I should say that we were both only half a person until we met and became one. He isn’t the bad-tempered thug people used to claim, and I’ve found that I’m not the doormat I used to be. I never thought I’d ever find love, I just assumed it wasn’t for women like me.’
Belle felt herself getting choked up with emotion and asked when the wedding was going to be.
‘Well, now you’re home we can arrange it as quick as we want,’ Mog said, as she poured Belle yet another cup of tea. She had already offered all kinds of food, but Belle wasn’t hungry. ‘I think I must’ve known deep down that you would be found because I have kind of stalled on it. But my happiness is complete now you are back where you belong.’
‘And what about Annie?’ Belle asked. ‘Noah told me what she was doing, and how you two just went your separate ways. Does she know I’m back?’
‘She knows you were found. I went to see her, but we didn’t know then how soon you were coming home.’
‘And?’
‘She was delighted to hear you were safe, but you know what she’s like. Won’t show any emotion, can’t praise anyone or offer any sympathy. I used to think that it was somehow my fault she was that way, but to be honest, Belle, I can’t be doing with it any more. If she wants to grow into an embittered old woman then that’s her funeral. I’m done with running around for her and making excuses for her. She knows where I am and where you’ll be. We’ll just have to see if she turns up.’
Belle had hoped that her being away for two years would have made her mother softer and more caring, but she supposed that was too much to anticipate.
‘But I want to know about you,’ Mog said, changing the subject. ‘Now, start at the beginning and tell me the whole story. No leaving bits out you think will upset me.’
*
An hour and a half and two more cups of tea and a ham sandwich later, Belle had finally reached the point in the whole sorry story where Etienne rescued her. Mog’s eyes had been as big as saucers for much of it, and she’d broken down in tears several times.
‘How can you still look as fresh and lovely?’ she asked.
r /> ‘I have had ten days in Paris to be fattened up again and for the bruises to fade, with the kindness of people like Noah, Etienne and Gabrielle to help me over it,’ she said. ‘And Philippe sent me over a beautiful silk blouse and some French perfume before I left.’
‘Have you been, you know, checked out?’ Mog asked very gently.
Belle smiled at Mog’s reticence to say ‘pox’. She looked and sounded like a little suburban housewife now; no one would ever guess she’d been a maid in a brothel for half her life.
‘Yes, while I was in the nursing home. There was no sign of any disease, but the doctor did warn me that it can be some time before symptoms show themselves. But then, I won’t be going down that road again!’
Mog blushed and Belle laughed at her. ‘We can’t pretend I’m still a little innocent,’ she said.
‘To me you’ll always be my little girl,’ Mog said, her lip quivering. ‘I can’t bear to think of what you’ve been through.’
‘It’s all over now. Telling you all about it was the last hurdle. I’ve got a good bit of money, and I’m going to open a hat shop. The first hat I make will be for your wedding.’
Jimmy peeped round the door. ‘If you want me to go away I will,’ he said.
‘Of course we don’t,’ Belle said. ‘Come on in and join us. Are there many left in the bar? It’s become a lot quieter.’
‘Most of them have staggered home now,’ Jimmy said. ‘Garth said he’s closing up any minute. Noah left some time ago. He said to tell you he had a letter to write.’