Belle - Lesley Pearse [154]
Chapter Twenty-six
The dockside in Marseille was even noisier, more crowded and smellier than the one in New Orleans. Added to that it was dark, very cold, and everyone around her was speaking French. Belle stood at the end of the ship’s gangway, suitcase in hand, terrified because she had no idea what to do or where to go.
She had expected that she could just walk off the ship and would see a guest house right off, but all she could see ahead of her was dark shapes of buildings which looked like warehouses. Men were trying to take her suitcase from her, beckoning her to go with them to heaven only knew where, and there were small boys pulling at her coat and asking for money.
Suddenly Arnaud Germaine was beside her. ‘Let me get you a fiacre,’ he insisted, taking her suitcase from her hand. ‘You must find this frightening when you don’t speak French?’
‘Yes, indeed. Thank heavens you came along,’ she exclaimed, assuming that ‘fiacre’ was French for carriage. ‘I was just about to panic because I didn’t know where to go. Could you ask the driver to take me to a guest house, somewhere clean but inexpensive?’
Since she’d nursed Avril, both she and her husband had become friendly with Belle. They had played cards most evenings after dinner, and Belle had got to like Avril. But she was wary of Arnaud; he had gone out of his way to be charming, but she felt it was forced.
‘I know the very place, my dear,’ he said with a warm smile. ‘But let me take you there and I can introduce you to the owner.’
The smell of fish in the harbour was overpowering and Belle pulled up the collar of her coat and buried her nose in the fur. The stink was coming from a brightly lit shed less than twenty yards away; she assumed by the shouting coming from it that the fish was being auctioned.
‘That is an interesting place to look in by day,’ Arnaud remarked, with laughter in his voice. ‘But it is not pleasant to look at lobster, cod and herring when you are cold and tired. Take my arm now and I will get a fiacre.’
It crossed Belle’s mind to ask where Avril was, but the noise and clamour were so great that she just held on to Arnaud and let him steer her through the crowds.
He put two fingers between his lips and whistled loudly. ‘I always wished I could do that,’ she said admiringly. ‘But it’s not very ladylike.’
Arnaud laughed in agreement and pointed out how effective it was as a cab driver was already flicking his horse with a whip to guide it over to them. ‘Soon we will be out of this tumult and you will feel safe again.’
‘This is incredibly kind of you, Mr Germaine,’ Belle said as the Frenchman helped her into the cab.
‘It is the least I can do after you nursed my wife when she was so sick,’ he replied, putting her case in and leaping in after it, having said a few words to the driver.
Belle’s hands were like ice, but it felt a little warmer in the cab. ‘Where is your wife?’ she asked.
‘She told me to go after you and see you were safe,’ Arnaud replied. ‘My family will take her home and I will join her later. She asked me to invite you to visit us over Christmas.’
It would be Christmas Eve the next day, but Belle couldn’t see Christmas as anything more than another inconvenience which would prevent her heading home to England immediately. Even if there was a train running in the morning, she didn’t think she had enough money left for the ticket. Worse still, what little money she still had was going to run out fast while she was living in a guest house. She would have to find some work to earn more, but that was going to be difficult without being able to speak French.
She had wanted to ask Captain Rollins to lend her some money, but she found she couldn’t do it. Likewise she wished she had the nerve to ask Arnaud.
‘I’d love to visit you, but I will have to find some work as I don’t think I have enough money to get back to England,’ she blurted out.
‘I’m sure that will all fall into place,’ he said silkily, patting her