Belle (26 page)

‘It’s men like me who make this lucrative market,’ he said sadly. ‘We only see the excitement, the colour and the thrill of sporting houses. We don’t ever think how the girls came to be there. I sure do feel ashamed now.’

She squeezed his hand back and cuddled closer to him. ‘Don’t be. You are a good man. There aren’t any girls in this house who aren’t willing. Even if I hadn’t been forced into this way of life, maybe I would’ve come to it anyway. You weren’t the one who captured me, or one of the men who raped me in Paris. I like being here with you. I really like you.’

He turned to her and stroked her cheek. ‘I like you too, Belle. You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, with your mop of dark curls and your dancing eyes. You make me feel young again.’

When they’d drunk all the champagne Faldo scooped her into his arms in the way she felt a husband or a lover would, and he sought to please her rather than expecting her to please him.

Sex with any of her clients was quickly over and much the same whoever it was with. Faldo had been like all the other men too; there was nothing to single him out other than that he hadn’t been rough, said crude things or been unpleasant in any other way. But he was different tonight, slower, sensitive and loving. It wasn’t in the same league as Serge’s lovemaking, but it was enjoyable.

Belle glanced at the clock on her bedside table at one point and was amazed to see it was gone twelve, yet they’d come up to her room soon after nine. But he was holding back, wanting to make it last, and for once Belle didn’t try to speed things up; she was liking it, really liking it.

Daylight was just creeping around the edges of the shutters when she awoke to find herself still in his arms, and his body, which she’d thought so flabby the previous evening, now felt warm, soft and comforting. And she stretched herself along it like a cat, winding her legs over his. This, she thought, was how it must be when you were married, a cosy kind of contentment.

He made love to her again a little later and it was sweeter still than it had been the night before. She even let him kiss her, for she felt as if she should give him all that she had.

But around half past eight he looked at his pocket watch and sighed. ‘I have to go, my little flower. I have a meeting at ten and I need to go to a barber’s and get shaved and back to my hotel to get a clean shirt.’

‘It’s been really lovely,’ she said, wrapping her arms around him tightly. ‘I wish it could be like this all the time.’ In the half-light of the shuttered room he didn’t look old or ugly, just a sweet man who had made her feel happy and good about herself.

‘You are good at your job,’ he chuckled softly. ‘For a moment I almost believed you meant it!’

Belle sat up sharply and looked down at him. ‘But I did. Truly!’

He smiled and moved closer to kiss her nipple. Just that light touch sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine and she pulled him closer to her.

‘I have to go,’ he said reluctantly after a minute or two. ‘Could you get me my clothes?’

Some ten minutes later he was dressed in his dry, pressed clothes. Cissie had even polished his shoes for him. He put his hands on Belle’s waist, smiling down at her red satin and lace negligee. ‘Can we do this again, sugar?’ he asked.

‘I would be cross if you didn’t want to,’ she replied, tilting her face up so she could kiss him. ‘But I feel bad that you had to pay Madam all that money.’

He leaned down to kiss her. ‘You’re worth it, sugar,’ he said with a smile. ‘But now I must hit the road!’

Belle went back to bed after she’d shown him out. She wasn’t sure exactly what she felt. She was pleased that she’d got closer to Faldo, maybe he would want her for his mistress now, and she was fairly certain he could afford to pay whatever Martha asked to release her. But she also felt sad that she was planning to cheat such a good man.

‘You can’t think about that,’ she told herself sharply. ‘Your duty is to look after yourself and get back to England. Faldo will get what he wants too.’

‘What was it like with him all night?’ Hatty asked later that same day. All the girls were in the kitchen dunking beignets in their coffee. ‘He sure must be loaded to pay so much.’

Hatty was a big, voluptuous girl with mid-brown hair, green eyes and a very kind heart. She was the one Belle confided in and sought out for company. She’d been brought up in an orphanage in San Francisco and had run away when one of the male governors tried to have his way with her. She had been forced into prostitution by a couple who pretended to befriend her, and it was these people who sold her on to Martha, along with Suzanne.

‘Or he’s in love with Belle?’ Betty said with a wide smile.

‘I think it was more because he didn’t want to put his wet clothes back on,’ Belle giggled.

She had noticed Anna-Maria was scowling and so she thought she’d better keep her real thoughts about Faldo to herself for now. ‘I thought morning would never come,’ she added for good measure.

There was a little more conversation between the girls about men who asked to stay all night. It seemed to Belle that most men backed off when they heard how much it was. From what she could gather, without seeming too interested, Hatty was the only other of them to have had an all-nighter.

‘You’d better share your tricks with us, honey,’ Anna-Maria said to Belle. The girl was smiling, her voice sugar-sweet, but Belle sensed the underlying venom. ‘Did you pick them up in Paris? Do tell!’

‘No tricks. Like I said, he just didn’t want to put his wet clothes back on,’ Belle repeated. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting that when he looks at his empty pocketbook he’ll never come back again.’

In the week that followed Faldo was never far from Belle’s mind. It wasn’t so much daydreaming about him as the possibility of the ticket out of here and a few steps nearer to getting home to England. But meanwhile, along with the undercurrent with Martha, there was one with Anna-Maria too. She gave Belle dark looks, and often broke off conversations when Belle came into the room.

Belle knew Anna-Maria had been the house favourite when she arrived, and within weeks Belle had taken her place. Belle could imagine how galling that was; she knew even she would be jealous if Martha bought in a new girl and her position was usurped.

Anna-Maria’s beauty was of the tempestuous, dramatic kind: olive skin, nearly black eyes and black curly hair, and the fiery nature to go with it. She was not only angry about Belle’s popularity with the gentlemen, she resented the other girls approving of her and often siding with her.

Cat fights had been commonplace back home in London where hardly a day passed without some little altercation. Belle remembered Mog saying once that girls could be as deadly as snakes when they were jealous, so she was careful not to antagonize Anna-Maria further.

Ten days passed before Faldo turned up again, and he arrived with a beautiful box of candy for Belle. It was decorated with pink velvet roses, and so pretty it made a lump come up in her throat.

‘May I stay all night again?’ he asked before he’d even had a drink.

‘Are you sure you want to spend that much?’ she whispered back to him, not wanting anyone else to hear. Fortunately the parlour was crowded and the Professor was playing quite loudly.

‘The hell I do!’ he said. ‘I’d risk swimmin’ through the ’gators in the swamp to be with you.’

Belle laughed, but said he must ask Martha. There were so many gentlemen in that evening that she felt sure Martha would refuse.

Surprisingly Martha agreed, though Belle didn’t know how much there was in the wedge of notes Faldo handed her.

Once again he ordered champagne and Cissie followed them upstairs with it.

Once in her bedroom, Belle kissed Faldo on the lips and began to remove his jacket. ‘You can’t go on doing this,’ she said. ‘It’s madness.’

‘A good madness, honey,’ he laughed, catching hold of her waist and kissing her again. ‘I’ve thought of nothing else but you since I left last time. It’s sure been torture thinking ’bout you with other men.’

She cupped his face in her hands and looked at him tenderly. ‘I can’t do anything about that, Faldo. I’ve been wishing I could be with you too.’

He turned her round and began unhooking her dress, bending to kiss her back as he pushed the dress down on to the floor. ‘You are so lovely,’ he murmured. ‘So little and perfect, and I’m being an old fool in fallin’ for you.’

Belle stepped out of her dress and turned to him again. ‘I’m falling for you too,’ she said, and she didn’t feel bad saying it as it felt like the truth.

He took her with a fierce passion before they were even completely undressed, and Belle responded eagerly.

Later, as they sat in her bed drinking the champagne, with all the noise and music from the District wafting up through the open windows, Faldo sighed deeply.

‘That sounds like you’ve got all the worries of the world on your shoulders,’ she said.

‘Only one worry, and that’s you,’ he said. ‘What would you say if I asked you to give this up and come and be with me?’

Belle’s heart leapt. She hadn’t expected it to come to this so quickly. ‘I wish I could,’ she said, ‘but I’m tied into a contract with Martha.’ She went on to explain it and how she didn’t know how much money was still owing.

‘I see,’ he said, sounding angry with Martha. ‘But I’ll sort that out, don’t you fear.’

‘But Faldo, she won’t let me go easily,’ Belle said, and she clung to him, for all at once it occurred to her that Martha hadn’t risen to own one of the most successful sporting houses in the District by being soft, honest or caring about the future of her girls.

‘I have influence,’ he said reassuringly. ‘Let me worry about Martha.’

The next morning Faldo got up and pulled his clothes on. Belle stayed in bed, but she was a little worried about his set expression. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

Faldo sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at her. ‘I’ve thought it all through,’ he said. ‘You must act like nothing is going on between us, don’t say a word to anyone.’

Belle nodded. She was afraid he’d gone off the idea of taking her away.

‘I’ll set up a place for us,’ he said. ‘It has to be here in New Orleans because this is the only place I come to all the time, but I can find somewhere away from the District. When I’ve got it all arranged I’ll come back one evening to let you know. The next afternoon you pretend to go out for a walk, but you get a cab and come to me. Once you are out of here I’ll settle up with Martha.’

Belle could tell by his serious expression that he’d thought it all through and meant it. She wound her arms around his neck and thanked him. ‘You understand you’ll be on your own a great deal?’ he said warningly. ‘And you won’t be able to come back to the District and see your friends. It has to be a clean break.’

‘I don’t care about that,’ she said. ‘I only want to be with you.’

Chapter Twenty-one

‘It’s no good, Jimmy, we just have to accept we are never going to find Belle,’ Noah said pleadingly. ‘Too much time has passed, the trail has grown cold and we’ve run out of ideas. I can’t do any more, however much I wish I could.’

It was a hot, airless day in September, and the two young men were sitting in the back yard of the Ram’s Head in the early evening. It had been a hot, dry summer and Mog had gone to great lengths to make the back yard more attractive. She’d persuaded Garth to get rid of all the old crates and other rubbish out there and she’d planted geraniums in tubs and painted an old bench and small table white. For weeks now it had been a much appreciated little refuge from the hurly-burly and heat of the pub.

The prolonged drought and heat were causing problems all over London. People were tetchy, they couldn’t sleep, the drains stank, food went off too fast, the streets were dusty and even the leaves on the trees were falling prematurely. Just last night Garth had said he was in two minds whether to shut the pub for a week so he, Jimmy and Mog could go and stay by the sea for a holiday.

But Jimmy’s response was that his uncle and Mog could go, and he’d stay here in case there was any word from Belle. Garth had said he never knew anyone so stubborn and single-minded that they could still be hoping word would come after a year and a half.

Noah had been back to Paris three times now with James, trying desperately to find the convent the girl in the brothel had spoken of. He believed he’d called at every single one in Paris, over forty in all, yet he had been unable to find one that would admit to having any connection to Madame Sondheim. Several of the convents acted as hospitals and they did say they’d had many patients who were prostitutes, women who’d been attacked and those who had been brought in with complications in childbirth. But they assured Noah and James that these were not English girls and not one of them had ever claimed to have been forced into their career.

Noah couldn’t believe that any of the nuns he spoke to would countenance aiding the exploitation of young women anyway. They had been very open, horrified that anyone would suspect anyone in a religious order of trying to conceal such a crime.

In the light of this he felt that the people behind this trafficking in young girls were probably calling the place they used a convent as a way of deflecting suspicion from it, and that it was just a house where girls were held until they could be sent on somewhere else. But without a single clue as to the whereabouts of this house he now knew he had no hope of finding it.

Jimmy had been just as relentless in searching too. He’d broken into both Kent and Colm’s offices again to check through their papers and he’d cross-examined just about half the population of Seven Dials in the hope that someone would know something. A year ago he
had
found out something, and that was where Charles Braithwaite, known by the name of ‘Sly’, lived.

Jimmy was only told that the man lived in Aylesford in Kent, and he went down there to find out about him. He was told that Braithwaites had farmed there for three generations, but Charles Braithwaite had been brought up to think he was a gentleman, and ever since he inherited the farm he had spent most of his time in London.

With Garth with him for muscle, Jimmy called at the farm with the intention of forcing Braithwaite to give them some information, but they found only Tad Connor, the farm manager. He said Braithwaite had gone away some three months since, and he hadn’t heard from him or had any wages in all that time. Connor seemed an honest, decent man caught in the trap of being unable to leave because he had a wife and three children to provide for and his cottage was a tied one. He said he was surviving by selling produce, and if Braithwaite didn’t come back soon he was going to sell some cows at the market.

Jimmy asked if he could recall Braithwaite bringing a young girl here back in January. Tad did remember his employer and his friend coming late one night and leaving early the next day, for that was the only time in January they were there. He said if there was a girl with them, he didn’t see her. But he added there had been girls there in the past. He couldn’t remember dates, and had only seen the girls from a distance, so he was unable to describe any of them, but he recalled feeling Braithwaite and his friend were up to no good as they hadn’t let him into the house during this period as they normally did.

Because Jimmy remembered Colm and Kent talking about Sly turning yellow-bellied, he suggested to Connor that maybe he should report his employer missing to the police. Connor didn’t seem to think that was necessary, but he said he’d consider it if he still hadn’t heard from Braithwaite in another month.

Shortly after Jimmy and Garth had returned from Aylesford, Noah had told Jimmy he didn’t think there was anything further that any of them could do to find Belle. At the time Noah thought Jimmy was in agreement. But looking at him now, it seemed as if he wasn’t ever going to let it go.

‘You did really good with the story in the newspaper about all the missing girls,’ Jimmy said sadly. ‘I really thought that would shake up the police. But they haven’t done anything.’

Noah reached out and ruffled the lad’s red hair affectionately. His story earlier this year about the missing girls had been an all-out attempt to get some kind of action and justice. While it appeared to make no difference to the police, who still maintained they had done everything possible already, the newspaper received hundreds of letters from people from all over England. The story clearly touched a nerve as along with all those offering sympathy to the parents of the missing girls, some of the letters were from people who had also had a daughter who had disappeared. Some were from people who offered advice, though mostly that was impractical. And a few letters were from those who thought they knew the perpetrators of the crime; Noah handed those names over to the police for investigation.

The irony of writing this article was that while it didn’t really help Belle, Noah began to get far more journalistic work, all good investigative stuff he could get his teeth into.

‘The police did do a great deal,’ he reminded Jimmy. ‘They brought Kent and Colm in for questioning, and I really believe they tried hard to nail them. But those two are practised villains, and there was absolutely no hard and fast evidence to link them to the missing girls. Even Annie’s statement about Kent killing Millie doesn’t really hold water, Mog wasn’t there that night to corroborate it. All they’ve got is hearsay, which came from a young girl who is now missing. If Annie had only told the police the truth on the night it happened it might all be different now.’

‘Isn’t there anything else we can do?’ Jimmy asked plaintively.

‘Our best hope is that one of the missing girls turns up and tells us where she’s been and who captured her.’

‘If only that could be Belle,’ Jimmy said, his voice cracking.

Noah had known Jimmy now for over a year and a half, during which time his eighteenth and nineteenth birthdays had come and gone. But it was only now that he suddenly noticed the physical changes in the lad. He’d grown at least three inches, muscles in his shoulders and arms were straining the fabric of his shirt, and he had a shadow of stubble on his chin. He’d shown his maturity in the way he’d resolutely done everything in his power to find Belle, and worked so hard for his uncle, but now he was looking like a man, and while hardly classically handsome, with his red hair and freckles, he had a good, strong face.

‘You should be getting out and meeting other girls,’ Noah said gently. ‘You only knew her for a very short time. Even if she was to turn up one day, it’s unlikely you’d have anything in common any more.’

Jimmy looked straight at him, his eyes flashing a warning to say no more on this subject. ‘I will find her, Noah,’ he said with conviction. ‘Maybe she won’t want me then, and I’ll accept that. I’ve met a few other girls since she went, but they didn’t mean anything to me, not the way Belle does.’

With that he said he had a couple of errands to run and went out through the back gate of the yard, while Noah went back into the pub. Garth hadn’t opened the bar yet, and he was sitting at the kitchen table smoking his pipe, while Mog sat across from him darning a pair of socks. Noah had observed that the pair always seemed to be together now, and Mog was a good influence on Garth, for he was a lot less fierce than he used to be.

‘Would you like a drink, tea or some beer?’ Mog asked.

Noah declined and said he’d better make tracks for home as he was taking a young lady out to the music hall in King’s Cross later.

‘Jimmy ought to be doing something like that too,’ Mog said.

Noah thought so as well, but he was a little surprised at Mog feeling the same.

‘Well, don’t look like that!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s nineteen, high time he had a sweetheart.’

‘She’s right,’ Garth said gruffly. ‘It’s not good for him mooning over Belle all the time.’

‘I just said something similar to him,’ Noah admitted. ‘But just because we all want that for him doesn’t mean he’ll take any notice.’

‘Maybe I make him worse,’ Mog said fearfully. ‘I mean, I do talk about Belle, I can’t help it. I don’t understand Annie. She never comes down here to ask if there’s any news, not even to see how I’m doing. And when I went up there last month the maid told me she wasn’t in. I know that was a lie.’

Noah had been to see Annie twice, and he too was baffled by the stony-faced reception he’d got. The house where she was taking in lodgers was a smart one, and she’d got the kind of lodgers who would be horrified to discover their landlady had once run a brothel, but surely she didn’t think Mog or he would say anything to embarrass her?

‘She always were a right cold fish,’ Garth said. ‘There were talk she blackmailed the Countess into leaving her drum to Annie.’

‘That’s malicious gossip and quite untrue,’ Mog said stoutly. ‘The Countess cared for her and Annie looked after her right to the end like she was her own mother.’

‘So why ain’t she more caring about her own kid?’ Garth asked. ‘It’s like you was Belle’s ma, Mog. What went wrong?’

Noah stopped both of them by holding up his hand. ‘I know Annie was forced into that line of work. It can’t be easy to love a child when she was born that way.’

Mog was biting her lip as if she had something to say but didn’t dare speak out. ‘Well, Mog?’ Noah said. ‘I can see you know something.’

‘It’s my fault,’ she whispered. ‘As soon as Belle was born I took her in my arms and did everything for her. I never gave Annie a look in. She was the Countess’s top girl, and I told her she must get back to it as quick as possible to stop anyone else stepping in.’ Mog began to cry, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘If I hadn’t done that I reckon it might have gone differently. Maybe this is my punishment. I took Annie’s baby all those years ago so now I’ve got to suffer the pangs of grief losing her,’ she sobbed.

To Noah’s surprise Garth got up from his chair and went round the table to comfort Mog, and as the big man bent over her, his usually stern face full of tenderness, Noah suddenly realized that Garth had fallen in love with her.

‘Nothing’s your fault, Mog,’ Noah said over his shoulder as he began to walk to the back door. ‘You’ve been a good friend and a fine stand-in mother to Belle. But it’s time you made a life of your own, and it looks to me as if you’ve got the right man there to make it with.’

Noah smiled as he reached the back yard. He hoped that Mog and Garth would see for themselves that this was a bright new dawn for them.

‘Don’t cry, Mog,’ Garth said awkwardly. He’d never been comfortable around crying women. ‘Noah’s right, nothing is your fault, you’re a good woman.’

‘What did that last thing he said mean?’ she asked, drying her eyes on her apron and looking up at him. Garth felt that same butterfly-in-his-belly feeling he often got around her. He thought she had the sweetest face, he loved the way she bit her lip when she was nervous, and the gentleness of her grey eyes. He knew he had to speak now or maybe he never would be able to.

‘About the right man there to make it with! Well, I reckon he knows I’ve got feelings for you, Mog,’ he blurted out.

Her eyes widened and her hand fluttered up to her mouth. ‘For me?’

‘Yes, you, who else?’ he said, his voice croaky because it seemed a lifetime ago that he’d tried to woo a woman, and she hadn’t meant as much as this one did. ‘But maybe you don’t feel the same? If so, speak out and I’ll say no more.’

‘Oh, Garth,’ she said softly, her lower lip quivering as if she was going to cry again. ‘I do feel that way, but I thought it was just on my side.’

Realizing this kind of talk could go back and forth like a tennis match and never be resolved, Garth reached down, took her hands and pulled her up into his arms and kissed her.

She tasted of the apples she’d been slicing for a pie earlier, and she smelled of soap and lavender water. He wrapped her tightly in his arms, lifting her right off her feet as he kissed her, and his heart soared because he could sense by the way her lips were yielding that she felt the same as he did.

‘I reckon it’s high time I opened the bar,’ Garth murmured against Mog’s neck a little later. He had sat down on a kitchen chair and taken her on his lap to kiss her again and again. He didn’t really know how to proceed now. Courting was for young people, but he sensed Mog was likely to be frightened off if he tried to go too fast with her. Besides, there was Jimmy to think of. He couldn’t just take Mog off to his bed without making it right with the lad first.

But he had a feeling that Jimmy would think marriage was the only right way to do that, and perhaps he’d be right.

‘I never thought this would happen to me,’ Mog said, blushing prettily. ‘But we have to think of Jimmy’s feelings; we can’t let him walk in and catch us like this.’

Garth thought it was astounding how she always seemed to pick up on what he was thinking. ‘I didn’t ever think it would be my young nephew that would make me get married again,’ he said.