Chapter 37 #2
Béa misunderstood. ‘He always hurts me, Max. He won’t leave me alone. It’s always, “Sit down and put up your feet, Béa”, or “Take this medicine, Béa”.’
‘Medicine?’ Maxine asked. ‘Does he beat you?’
‘Beat?’ Béa burst out laughing. ‘He has big muscles but he can’t beat an egg. But I won’t be held down.’
‘Held down?’
‘By a man who won’t let me fly like a bird.’
‘You’re making no sense,’ Maxine said. ‘How did you hurt your face?’
‘I told you, I fell down the stairs. I left some magazines on a step and I forgot them. I was shouting at Louis, and when I came down the stairs fast, I stood on the magazines and – bouf! I fell all the way down. I have big bleus on my derrière too.’ She turned to Jo.
‘Please – may I have some soup with the cheese and bread, or I will faint? I’m so hungry. ’
‘Didn’t you have breakfast?’
‘I threw it at Louis’s stupid head.’ Béa folded her arms. ‘I argue with him all morning.’
‘What about?’
‘He thinks I’m a child.’ She sniffed in disgust. ‘He wants to control me. I tell him I have been offered a job at the mairie doing translations and he says me he won’t let me do it.’ She pulled a face. ‘I’ll do as I want. Louis can’t stop me.’
‘Have some soup.’ Jo passed Béa a brimming bowl. She attacked it with a spoon; despite the rising steam and the scalding liquid, she shovelled it in her mouth.
‘Mmm. I like your soup. I think I’ll live here,’ Béa said.
‘Béa.’ Maxine spoke slowly. ‘I have to ask you again. Does Louis hurt you?’
‘All the time. He tells me what to do. He is un balai de chiotte.’
‘I mean – did he bruise your face? And the other bruises – on your shoulder and your wrist, and the burn?’
Béa’s face clouded, confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Did Louis do those things to you?’
‘How can he? He loves me.’ Béa was halfway through the soup. She turned to Jo, full of gratitude. ‘I was hungry. And this is delicious. There will be more when I have finished?’
‘Of course,’ Jo said kindly. ‘I made plenty.’
Béa looked sleepy. ‘And after – may I rest for the afternoon? I’m fatiguée…’
Maxine asked again. ‘Has Louis treated you badly?’
Béa shook her head. ‘He tells me what to do.’ She glared at Maxine. ‘I don’t listen. You’re the same – you won’t let a man control you. I want to be like my English ladies – full of courage.’
She held out the bowl and Jo filled it up. Béa dug in again. ‘This is good.’
There was a sharp knock at the door, followed by a second. Maxine and Jo exchanged looks.
Béa said calmly, ‘It’s Louis. He knows I come here.’
Jo looked worried. ‘Will you go, Max?’
‘Of course.’ Maxine strode through the living room and opened the door wide.
Louis was standing in the doorway, his arms folded. ‘Béa est ici?’
‘Oui.’ Maxine didn’t budge.
‘I bring her home.’
Maxine remembered he didn’t speak much English, so she decided she’d ask him a straight question in French. She needed to know if he’d hurt Béa or not. She took a deep breath in preparation and met his gaze.
‘Louis, frappez-vous votre femme?’
‘Putain, hors de question!’ Louis was clearly horrified that she’d asked him if he’d hit his wife.
Béa came into the room and Louis hurled himself inside the house, putting his arms around her, trying to soothe her, gently touching the bruise on her face.
She sniffled and turned away. He moved behind her, coaxing her, holding out a bottle of pills.
Béa burst into tears. He embraced her and she began to sob.
Jo asked Maxine, ‘What’s going on?’
Maxine had no idea.
Louis lifted Béa’s chin tenderly and murmured, ‘Je m’inquiète pour toi, chérie. As-tu oublié de prendre tes médocs?’
He was clearly worried. Maxine heard medication being mentioned and she asked him gently, ‘Qu’est-ce qui se passe?’
‘Elle a une maladie du sang.’ Louis hugged Béa closer. She had stopped crying now. ‘Elle se fait facilement des bleus. Elle a besoin de medication. Elle a des vertiges de temps en temps.’
Maxine understood. The medication. The frequent bruises. The hunger and the dizziness. ‘You’re not well, Béa?’
‘I must take pills. It makes me angry. Louis is very kind but il m’éleve comme un enfant dans du coton.’
‘He wraps you in cotton wool.’ Maxine turned to Jo and shook her head. She had made a huge mistake. ‘Louis is just looking after her.’
‘Chéri, pardonne-moi – je t’aime.’ Béa turned shining eyes on her husband. ‘I’m sorry for my temper.’
Louis draped a protective arm around her. ‘I take her back chez nous. Thank you for…’ His expression was hopeless. ‘My beautiful wife. Je fais de mon mieux pour elle.’
‘I’m sure you do your best.’ Maxine pressed his arm. ‘I’m sorry for thinking the worst. I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Béa. I understand now. You need to take the meds and rest.’
‘No wine,’ Louis said gently. ‘No cigarettes, no sugar sweets.’
‘I know it.’ Béa made a face, but she leaned her head on Louis’s shoulder.
‘Of course,’ Maxine said kindly. ‘Will we see you at Le Shack on Thursday?’
Louis took his time trying to understand, then he said, ‘Jeudi, Le Shack. Oui.’
‘We’ll see you both then.’ Maxine watched them go, her arms folded.
Jo said, ‘I don’t understand. What just happened?’
‘Béa needs meds for a blood disorder. She bruises easily, gets dizzy and loses balance, especially if she hasn’t eaten. She gets frustrated – she wants to drink, smoke, eat sugary sweets. Louis is trying to do his best to support her and she pushes back. It can’t be easy for him – or her.’
‘And we thought he was beating her up.’ Jo was horrified.
‘I apologised to him. It was a mistake.’
‘I thought the same thing as you did.’ Jo gave a deep sigh. ‘Do you think we’ve become cynical, Max? Have we turned into suspicious old biddies because of what happened with Russell?’
‘Not at all. Forget Russell. Think of yourself, Jo. Béa’s fine, thank goodness.
It’s better to be safe than sorry. And we’ve got to the bottom of it now.
’ Maxine hugged Jo, full of relief. Béa would be fine.
‘Life hands out lessons, and we grow.’ They walked towards the kitchen.
‘But we won’t grow without proper food. And that soup smells gorgeous. Let’s go and finish what’s left.’