Belle - Lesley Pearse [116]
Belle told herself that was just a story put about to frighten the girls, but all the same she was too afraid to chance it, for she knew if she was caught, Martha would take her revenge. She’d sell her on before the day was out, and it wouldn’t be to another house up on Basin Street, but several blocks back where she might be expected to service forty or fifty men during the course of one day. And the people who owned those places watched their girls closely and beat them if they stepped out of line.
Pregnancy was another worry. So far Martha’s sponges and douches had protected her, and indeed the other girls in the house, but Belle knew that in other houses the girls weren’t so lucky. They had the choice then of visiting Mammy Lou, a mulatto woman who could get rid of unwanted babies, or having the baby and taking the chance on her madam letting her stay in the house. Belle knew Martha would never agree to any of her girls bringing up a baby in her place. There were cat houses in the back streets where there were several babies and small children living in an upstairs room but Belle had heard they were dosed with ‘the Quietness’, a cordial made by Dr Godfrey which was laced with laudanum, and when they were bigger they were farmed out. Even back in London Belle had heard of children sent away to stay with women who made a business out of minding children. They got no tender love and care there, mostly they weren’t even fed adequately, and it was said to be just the same here in America.
But for now Belle felt she must concentrate on pleasing Martha, because she still had a feeling the woman didn’t really like her. There was nothing tangible to confirm this, just the odd dark look or a sharp word, but the other girls often told her stories about how vindictive Martha had been in the past to girls who’d upset her in some way.
Belle didn’t find it easy to suck up to her like the other girls did. She avoided letting Martha see her reading the newspaper or a book, guessing that was one thing which set her apart as different, and she never aired her opinions either. But Belle wasn’t made to be subservient, and she couldn’t bring herself to act dumb to please a woman who bought and sold human beings.
So it seemed to Belle that Hatty’s idea of finding a man who wanted her as his mistress was the only way out of her predicament. She didn’t want a husband; it wouldn’t be right to marry knowing she was intending to run off. But a married man keeping a mistress was already being deceitful, so he deserved to be deceived himself.
Every night Belle jotted down in her diary all the gentlemen she serviced, and later she’d think of each one and make further notes: what she thought of him, what he looked like, how often he visited Martha’s, and if she was his favourite. There were many men who visited Martha’s on a regular basis and always asked for her. She separated out those she liked especially, and those who bought her presents, and finally those she thought were probably rich enough to keep a mistress.
It came down to just two men: Faldo Reiss, a jovial Texan who had an important job on the railways, and Captain Evan Hunter, who owned several ships which sailed out of New Orleans. Faldo was in his fifties and had a wife and four grown-up children back in Houston. Evan was a little younger, around forty-seven – he’d never mentioned a wife or children but his home was in Baton Rouge.
What Belle needed to establish was whether the two men had legitimate business in New Orleans, or whether they went out of their way to come here to Martha’s just to see her.
It was frustrating that Martha didn’t encourage any man to stay longer than half an hour in the girls’ rooms. This was because she could make far more money with a succession of men than one staying for several hours, or even all night. Half an hour was just about the right length of time for the sex, but it left no time for talking. There was time in the parlour,