Belle - Lesley Pearse [75]
Belle gave a whoop of delight. It wouldn’t get her rescued, but it would stop Mog and her mother fretting that she was dead. ‘A deal,’ she said. ‘I won’t try to run off.’
It was night as the ship sailed up the East River to dock in New York. It had been announced earlier that they would be disembarking in the morning and instructions about what they could expect when they went through immigration on Ellis Island had been given. Belle had only half listened to the officer, as she knew Etienne would know what to do. But as she was packing away her things into her bag ready for the morning, she did wonder how he intended to deal with any immigration officer who asked them awkward questions, for the captain had announced that there was a medical examination and several kinds of tests to be passed before entry into America.
She was just about to start getting undressed to go to bed, when Etienne came back into the cabin.
‘We’re leaving,’ he said sharply. ‘Put the last of your things in your bag and hurry.’
He had that tense, steely-eyed look again that he’d had when they first met in Brest.
‘How can we leave?’ she asked in puzzlement as he pulled his bag out from beneath his bunk and put the last of his things into it. ‘The ship hasn’t docked.’
‘Someone has come alongside to take us off,’ he said. ‘Now, be quick and don’t argue.’
The ship was lying at anchor, waiting for a tug to take it in at first light. It was very quiet as they left the cabin and made their way up to the lower deck. Belle thought most of the passengers must be packing or getting an early night to be ready for the morning. Holding her arm, Etienne led her to the port side of the deck where she saw Petty Officer Barker was waiting. This man had been very solicitous to Belle when Etienne had been ill. She understood why now, for he was clearly getting paid for helping them to evade the immigration officers.
In great haste, Barker grabbed her and pushed her on to a bosun’s chair, putting their bags in her lap. Etienne jumped on then, standing astride her with his feet wedged beneath her legs and holding on to the rope. Suddenly the chair was pushed out over the side and Barker began to lower it. The seat spun round crazily in the cold wind and Belle had to close her eyes for she was afraid she’d fall out into the water.
‘Don’t be frightened,’ Etienne said in a low voice. ‘You’re quite safe. We’ll be on the other boat in seconds.’
He was right – almost as he spoke she felt a bump as the seat reached the other boat. Etienne jumped off and helped her out too. They were on what looked and smelled like a fishing boat. The bosun’s chair was hauled back up, and before Belle had time to adjust to the rocking motion of the little boat, it began to chug away from the big ship.
A small, stocky man in waterproofs came over to them. ‘Into the wheelhouse with you,’ he said curtly. ‘Sit down on the floor out of sight.’
Belle might not have felt seasick during the storm on the big ship, but she felt very queasy once she was squashed up in a corner of the wheelhouse. It wasn’t just the smell of fish, or the rocking motion of the small boat, but fear, for she had no idea what was in store for her. The man at the helm didn’t speak to them, or even turn to look at them as they scuttled into the wheelhouse. It was as if he thought that by not acknowledging their presence, he could pretend he didn’t know they were aboard.
Belle was scared. If she was entering the country illegally, what would happen to her if she tried to leave it? She felt angry with herself that she hadn’t run away from Etienne instead of going along with his escape plan. How could she have been stupid enough to believe he was going to show her the sights of New York or send a postcard home? Wasn’t it far more likely that he was going to take her to some terrible place, even worse