"If I was out of line, as you so put it, then it is only because the sin inside you made it so.”
“Did you sleep well?”
Belle started, unable to believe it. He was acting as if the previous night hadn’t happened at all. “My dreams were haunted,” she managed to stammer.
“Oh? By that gypsy daemon?”
“No...by...something else.”
“Well, I am sorry to hear that.”
His tone was curt and stiff, the way it always was, no trace of malice or lust there at all. Belle found herself wondering if he could even remember what he had done to her at all. Feeling very ashamed, though she had nothing to be ashamed of, she started to eat, although her stomach churned every so often at the memory of his abuse and the porridge tasted like sawdust this morning.
With a snap, Frollo closed his Bible and got to his feet. “Now, I’m going with my men to find that gypsy, and you are to stay right here. No more getting into any more trouble.”
Belle felt that she was in enough of that already; what more could the world throw at her? “But I need to go to town,” she stammered.
“Surely you can manage without your daily supply of books just once?”
“Not for that.” Belle bit her lip, her face flushing. “There’s something I need to get from the pharmacy.”
Frollo eyed her, somewhat slyly. “What?”
Her blush deepened. “A special pill.” The last thing she wanted was to be carrying this man’s child.
Frollo considered for a moment and then nodded. The last thing he wanted either was for their little...event to bear fruit. “Very well, then, but come straight back home.”
Home? The word cut into her like a knife. How could this ever be home after what he had done to her? She couldn’t bear it any longer. “Frollo, last night...you were out of line...”
She didn’t get any further. Frollo was suddenly leaning over her, his hand clawing into her shoulder, as he hissed into her ear. “I was out of line?” Belle flinched. “What have I always taught you; it is the women who tempt sin, not the men. If I was out of line, as you so put it, then it is only because the sin inside you made it so.”
Belle closed her eyes and didn’t respond. Frollo released her and swept from the room. Belle put her arms on the table and buried her face in them. What did she do? She couldn’t tell anyone; not even the Archdeacon, no one would believe her; that much she was certain of. And what if Frollo decided to use her again, to take out his lust? She couldn’t go through all that again, she wouldn’t, it had hurt too much, and parts of her were still aching.
Her mind kept going back to Clopin. She hoped he had managed to get back to the Court of Miracles safely, although he was very streetwise, and from the sound of it, Frollo’s guards hadn’t caught up with him.
The Court of Miracles!
Belle raised her head. Clopin had said that if she ever needed help, she could go back there. Surely the gypsies wouldn’t her down in another hour of need? With a trembling hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the amulet Clopin had given her. She stared at it for a few minutes. How could this help her to get back to the Court of Miracles? What was it Clopin had said?
“When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand.”
That made no sense. Belle thrust it back into her pocket and wiped her eyes firmly on her sleeve. Then, mustering up her courage, she left the cathedral and made for the pharmacy. Once again, the pharmacist didn’t ask any questions when she told him what she needed; he simply took the money and gave her the packet. Belle hurried out of the pharmacy and made for the cathedral. When she got to the city square, however, she stopped and looked around, hoping that she might spot Clopin somewhere, maybe in disguise. But no, just the usual people; the fisherman, the baker, the butcher, the candlestick maker, the greengrocer...Belle sighed, and turned in the direction of the cathedral.
Then it hit her, just then, like a brick wall, what Clopin had meant. She quickly pulled the amulet from her pocket. “When you wear this woven band,” she whispered, “you hold the city in your hand.”
It was a map, she realised, the amulet was a map. The symbols depicted the cathedral and the river, and the Court of Miracles. Her breath caught in her throat in excitement. This was her escape. Frollo would never think to look for her in Court of Miracles. Tucking the amulet back into her pocket, Belle made up her mind. She had to leave Notre Dame, tonight.
“Promise or no promise,” she said, as she pulled down the picture of her parents that evening. “I can’t stay here another minute.”
Rather than risk sneaking through the cathedral and run into the Archdeacon or anyone else, she decided to sneak through the secret passageway she had led Clopin down the evening before. Now they had no prisoner to guard, the guards were nowhere in sight, and it was easy for her to sneak into the passageway. Once there, after making sure the entrance was firmly concealed once again, she felt her way along in the dark until she found the grate once more and clambered out into the darkness of the streets. Taking up her map, she glanced around her, and was able to work out that the entrance to the Court of Miracles was somewhere close to the abandoned churchyard. She remembered Clopin leading her upstairs to get out, so that meant, she swallowed hard, the entrance was probably down in the catacombs.
“Well, I’d rather take my chance there than stay here another second longer,” she decided, making her way towards the church. Thankfully, she reached the place without incident. Taking a deep breath, she began to search for something that looked like an entrance, and eventually she found what looked to be a trapdoor. She pulled and it swung open, exposing a flight of stairs. It was completely dark, but Belle was certain that her eyes would adjust to the darkness soon.
She started down the steps, her footsteps echoing eerily. The air felt cool and stale, but not threatening or dead, as she had expected. As her eyes did adjust to the darkness, she saw that there were recesses filled with bones, and yet...yet this didn’t scare her. Not much, anyway.
“They’re just ancient dead bodies, they can’t hurt me,” she murmured, shivering a little. Suddenly the place seemed a little too quiet for her liking. Surely she ought to have bumped into somebody by now.
“Hah!”
Belle screamed as suddenly the dead bodies sprang to life. They surrounded her and Belle felt panic rise within her. “What do you want?” she exclaimed. Then, she realised, they weren’t skeletons, but people in costumes. One of them threw a rope around her body, binding her arms tightly to her sides. “No!” Belle cried, and then her shriek was muffled as one of them threw a gag over her mouth.
“We have ways of dealing with intruders in the Court of Miracles,” one of the gypsies hissed.
“What’s going on?”
Belle threw up her head and tried to shriek out his name but her cry was muffled. Clopin, however, had recognised the sound of her attempted shriek.
“Intruder,” one of the gypsies started to explain, but Clopin pushed him to one side. “You idiots,” he snapped, clouting one of them around the back of the head. “She’s a friend, not an intruder. I told her how to get here.”
“Well, why didn’t she say so?” one of the gypsies, grumbled, untying Belle.
“Did you give her a chance?” Clopin countered, sternly. He put an arm around Belle and guided her into the Court. “So sorry about them, Belle; they mean well but they can get a little carried away when it comes to keeping our hideout a secret.” Then he looked at her properly. “Belle, what’s wrong?”
Belle couldn’t stop herself from beginning to cry. “I couldn’t stay at Notre Dame another minute...even though it’s always been my sanctuary...I just couldn’t...not with him there...”
“Whoa, whoa, Belle, slow down.”
“Hey, you’re back!” Esmeralda skipped up to her, and then frowned. “Hey, what’s happened?”
Belle sank to the floor in floods of tears. Esmeralda put an arm around her. She looked at Clopin, who shrugged to indicate that he had no idea what had upset her so much. “Belle.” He crouched beside her. “Tell us what happened. What did Frollo do?”
“Did he hurt you?” Esmeralda added.
Belle nodded.
“Was it because you helped me?” Clopin asked.
Belle shook her head.
Esmeralda blanched. “Belle...did he hurt you...lustfully?”
Clopin blanched too. Belle nodded. Esmeralda hugged her, fiercely. “Oh, God.”
Clopin felt a storm of anger in his stomach. He curled his hands into fists. “The devil!”
Belle raised her head, tears staining her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Belle, why are you apologising?” asked Esmeralda. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know...but...” Belle rubbed her eyes fiercely and tried to express how she was feeling. “I just...”
“I understand,” Esmeralda replied, hugging her. “Believe me.”
Belle looked at Clopin. “So...it’s alright if I stay here for a while? I’ll try not to be any trouble...and I’ll help out loads.”
“Belle, you can stay here as long as you want,” Clopin replied, squeezing her hands. He looked at Esmeralda. “Can you and Pocahontas show her to a room?”
Esmeralda smiled. “Leave everything to us, Clopin.” She helped Belle to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you sorted.”
Belle allowed Esmeralda to lead her through the great Court until they reached a curtain atop some steps. Esmeralda pulled it back to reveal a room with a bed, a dressing table, a tin bath and a wardrobe. “I know it’s not much,” she said, shyly, “but it’s the best we can offer.”
Belle managed a small smile. “I think it’s wonderful, thank you.”
“Well, if you need anything else, we can get it for you.” Esmeralda turned to the Court. “No one else will come here unless you ask them too; we all respect each other’s privacy here. There’s a privy just over there, well, there’s one for women and one for men; we each have our own bath tubs, which we fill from the pump. We heat the water over a fire. It takes a while, but, well, it’s all we can do, really. Oh, and we don’t usually eat at set times; just whenever we’ve got food; but whatever we’ve got we always share. I think that’s everything you need to know for now.”
Belle nodded, trying to fight back another set of tears. She couldn’t get over how nice everyone was being. “Thank you, Esmeralda.”
Esmeralda hesitated. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. No one should ever have to go through that.”
She left the room. Belle, feeling there was little else to do, took in her surroundings before collapsing onto the bed. Her whole body cried for sleep, but sleep would not come. She lay awake for several hours, but somehow she just couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts kept going back to Clopin, and then, suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to be near him. She hesitated, wondering if she could, and then she clambered out of bed and padded out of her room. As luck would have it, she spotted Clopin slipping through a curtain into his own room. She hesitated again, and then made her way slowly and silently towards the curtain.
In his room, Clopin lay awake, hating Frollo, and worrying for Belle. How could anyone do that to her? Someone as sweet and pure and good as Belle deserved to be treated much better than that.
Presently he became aware of someone else nearby. He sat up slightly and saw Belle lingering in the doorway, unsure of whether or not to go up to him. “Belle, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep.”
That was all Clopin needed to know, and his peeling back of the blanket was all the encouragement Belle needed. She slipped in beside him, facing away from him, and cuddled into herself. Clopin draped the blanket over her, and then, not even questioning whether or not it was out of line, he slipped an arm around her. Belle closed her eyes, and slept.
“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute.”
“Belle, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry for what happened to you. No one should ever have to go through that.”
