Belle - Lesley Pearse [73]
But Etienne wasn’t faring so well. When Belle heard him groaning, she jumped out of her bunk to get the slop pail kept in the small cupboard under his bunk. He was violently sick several times in close succession, until he had nothing left to bring up but bile.
She finally had the opportunity to leave the cabin without his supervision to empty the slop pail, but she was so concerned for him she did nothing more than that, and then went to find a steward to ask if the ship’s doctor could come to him.
The doctor never arrived. It seemed there were so many sick passengers that he concentrated on seeing the most vulnerable ones, the very young and the very old. So Belle was Etienne’s nurse. She held the bucket for him to be sick in, sponged him down, made him sip water, and changed the sheets on his bunk when they became soaked with sweat. She barely slept at all and had very little to eat either for she didn’t like to leave him for more than a few minutes.
But on the evening of the fourth day, the rolling and pitching of the ship eased and Etienne was more peaceful. Belle went up to the dining room then, wolfed down a hearty meal herself and got some soup and bread for Etienne.
‘You’ve been very kind,’ he said weakly as Belle helped him to sit up and put pillows behind him to support him.
‘It was lucky I wasn’t seasick too,’ she said, spooning the soup into his mouth as though he was a baby. ‘Practically all the passengers are ill. The dining room was empty.’
‘Did you seize the opportunity to get help for yourself?’ he asked, catching hold of her wrist.
He was still terribly pale, but the green tinge to his skin had gone. She looked down at his hand gripping her and frowned. He removed it at once and apologized.
‘That’s better,’ she said starchily. ‘But no, I didn’t seek help, I was too busy looking after you.’
His relief was palpable, and it crossed her mind she should have lied and said she’d told the purser or someone.
‘Then I’d better pull myself together quickly, before you take off in a lifeboat,’ he said with a smile. ‘You’d make a first-class nurse, for you have a strong stomach and an iron will, but you are kind too.’
Belle smiled because she was happy to see him so much better. But at the same time she was confused as to why she should care how he was when to all intents and purposes he was her enemy. ‘Eat up, you’ve got some way to go before you’ll be strong enough again to bully me. I’ll leave my escaping until then,’ she retorted.
In the days that followed the sea grew calmer and gradually the normal routine on board returned. Etienne recovered very quickly and was soon eating well again. But his manner to Belle had changed: he was much warmer, and instead of locking her in the cabin for long periods he suggested they played cards and board games in the lounge to pass the time.
‘What’s the place like in New York where you’re taking me?’ she asked while they played chequers.
‘It’s not in New York. It’s in New Orleans.’
‘But that’s right at the other end of America, isn’t it?’ she asked.
Etienne nodded. ‘In the Deep South. You’ll be a whole lot warmer there.’
‘But how will we get there?’
‘Another ship.’ He went on to tell her that New Orleans was completely different to anywhere else in America, as prostitution was legal and it had non-stop music, dancing and gambling. He explained that the natives were French Creoles but there was also a huge population of negroes. This was because they had flocked to the town after the Civil War and the abolition of slavery. The Union Army had destroyed most of the big cotton and tobacco plantations in the South and the displaced workforce had to find some other line of work.
‘New Orleans is a fine-looking town too,’ he said with obvious appreciation. ‘It was built by the French with elegant mansions, beautiful gardens and squares. I think