Belle - Lesley Pearse [146]
She hadn’t slept a wink through terror of what was going to become of her. The greater part of her just wanted to run, to throw her belongings quickly into a case and catch the first train out of New Orleans. But a small, sensible voice asked her where she thought she was going to run to, because it would be hard to start again in a strange town where she didn’t know anyone.
That same sensible voice suggested she went to Miss Frank and told her the whole story. As the older woman appeared to be fond of her, Belle thought she might agree to pretend to the police that her name was Anne Talbot if they came round asking questions. Belle hoped that with the money she earned at the hat shop, and perhaps finding some waitressing work too, she could stay in New Orleans.
‘You really think I would be prepared to tell lies to the police and say I know you as Anne Talbot?’ Miss Frank finally exclaimed.
Belle heard the animosity in the woman’s voice and her stomach flipped. While she’d seen the horror on Miss Frank’s face as she was explaining, she’d made the mistake of assuming that was because the woman was distressed at the idea of her going through so much. But it was now clear she’d felt nothing but repugnance.
‘I wasn’t asking you to tell a lie. I have been working for you, and I can’t see that it matters what name you knew me under,’ Belle pleaded.
‘It matters very much to me,’ the older woman snapped. ‘No one changes their name unless they are up to no good.’
‘But I’ve explained why Mr Reiss made me use that name, and how I came to be here in New Orleans. Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough by being abducted and sold into prostitution? If that happened to you, wouldn’t you have got out of it any way you could?’
‘I don’t believe you had no choice in the matter. I think it’s far more likely you got led astray and then made up this ridiculous story to make yourself look like a victim,’ Miss Frank said tersely, her small face and body rigid with indignation. ‘I don’t even know that I believe this man who was keeping you died of natural causes. Not when it’s clear from your bruised cheek that you were fighting! But setting that aside, have you any idea what it would do to my business if my customers knew what you are? They wouldn’t want to step inside the shop, much less try on a hat you’d touched.’
Belle felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach. She hadn’t for one moment expected that she wouldn’t be believed, nor had she anticipated that Miss Frank would see a whore as being as dangerous as someone with leprosy.
‘They won’t catch anything from me,’ she retorted. ‘Though they might from their own husbands, as you can bet most of them visit the District on a regular basis.’
Miss Frank gasped in shocked horror. ‘How dare you say such a wicked, slanderous thing?’
All at once Belle saw that she had been a fool to imagine this little spinster could possibly understand and sympathize with what she’d been through. The society she had been raised in was completely blinkered, and most women like her were entirely ignorant about even their own bodies. Even if Belle had only admitted a man had kissed her, Miss Frank would probably have reached for her smelling salts.
But Belle was not going to beg her forgiveness for something that was not her fault. She certainly wasn’t going to resort to tears either. And she wasn’t going to let the silly woman hide behind her ridiculous, prudish views.
‘Because it’s absolutely true,’ Belle said stubbornly. ‘Why is it that people always cast prostitutes as the lowest form of life? They wouldn’t exist but for men. And I can tell you first hand that it is invariably so-called “respectable” married men who use them. If their wives fulfilled their role in marriage, they wouldn’t resort to it. So your outraged customers ought to look to themselves before they point a finger at me.’
‘I’ve never heard anything so shocking!’ Miss Frank gasped, her face flushing rose pink.
‘Shocking! I’ll tell you what’s shocking,’ Belle said angrily. ‘That you’ve had me working here day