Chapter 10
The next day, I had been invited to Yvette's place for tea. It had been my rest day from work and I didn't have anything planned. Yvette had been playing cards alone in the salon when I arrived. She was dressed to go out and I wondered why she had invited me over. I was a poor woman - my hair was badly done, skirts were awry and my hands, red and coarse from working at the clothing factory.
"Meg! I have wonderful news for you," Yvette said as soon as she saw me.
"Yvette, thank you for inviting me here," I responded.
"Please, sit with me…" she patted to the empty spot on the chair next to her. "I have an acquaintance in urgent need of a servant… Her name is Madame Roget. She is very generous and will certainly treat you well."
Yes, I remembered that name - Yvette had told me that she had been taking singing and dancing lessons from her. Madame ran a boarding school for girls in the Latin Quarter, just across the Seine.
"Will you introduce me, Yvette?" I asked eagerly.
"Of course, dear… In fact, I have arranged to meet her this afternoon," Yvette informed me.
We arrived at the steps of Madame Roget's townhouse which was located on a busy street. As the coach came to a halt, a butler appeared at the door and ushered us inside. In the foyer, a huge crystal chandelier was lowered within a foot off the floor as the servants were dusting it. We walked past heavy Oriental tapestries and vast salons hung with antique silks, exquisite pieces of furniture supporting priceless ornaments, and small, charming, perfumed rooms, created just for little parties of intimate friends. In the background, I could hear singing and music. Madame Roget had expensive tastes – no doubt, her husband or lover was extremely wealthy.
Madame was already waiting for us in the grand salon decorated with fresh roses and gilded mirrors. My would-be employer was an attractive and elegant woman in her thirties – she was dressed in a lovely lilac gown with black lace and pearl trimmings.
"This is Madame Roget," Yvette said as the woman approached them with a smile.
"And this must be Marguerite Giry," Madame Roget said. "Charming…"
Encouraged by the woman's warm smile, I gave a small curtsey. "Madame."
"Come and have some tea… I have prepared something to eat," Madame said as she turned and walked over to the round latticed table near the window. The table was set with delicate meals of rosy trout flesh and wings of asparagus chicken on gleaming silverware. She poured the tea into dainty teacups like a perfect hostess as we took our seats. My stomach gnawed hungrily as I stared at the food– it had been a long time since I had seen such a fine meal.
"Yvette tells me that you were a dancer in the corps de ballet at the Opera Populaire and your mother was the ballet mistress…"
I nodded in bewilderment. Why would my past as a ballet dancer be of interest to Madame Roget?
"I enjoyed the performances at the opera very much. It is such a pity that the opera house burned down."
Together with my hopes and dreams, I thought angrily to myself.
"I am looking for a maid to replace the one that had run away but you are not just a common country girl," Madame remarked.
Alas! My hopes were dashed – she was not interested in hiring me.
Madame Roget sipped her tea and inhaled deeply. "I could hire you but not as a servant in my household. You can still dance can you not?"
"I… I haven't had much practice since the fire," I replied nervously.
"It doesn't matter… come, show me what you can do."
In the silence that followed, I heard someone in another part of the house playing a piano. The tune sounded familiar as I gave a brief demonstration of my skills as a ballet dancer. My muscles were stiff and my moves ungainly as I could not hold my pose. I became very self-conscious of Madame's stare and bowed my head in shame. However, she did not snicker or laugh at my clumsy movements.
"It is indeed fascinating that having lived in the opera house with all its vices and immorality for so long, you managed to maintain that delicate and naïve persona, almost like a woman child. Your mother must have brought you up strictly and protected you," Madame commented. "I don't want you scrubbing floors and cleaning windows. I want you to become a dancer, an actress, something more suited to what you already know… With a little guidance and money spent, you will do extremely well."
"Madame only serves rich, famous and refined gentlemen. It is an exclusive establishment," added Yvette with a smile. "You will be very well treated."
Aghast, I cried, "You… you want me to become a… a courtesan!"
Madame sat there, unperturbed by my outburst. She turned to Yvette and said, "Will you please leave us for a while? I wish to speak to Marguerite in private."
Yvette nodded and left. As soon as the door closed behind Yvette, Madame Roget said to me, "I know this is hard for you to accept… When I came out to society, I was only sixteen. Nobody taught me anything. I've had lots of practice with different men and in many different ways. It was not passion that I sought – it was knowledge," she said in retrospect. "You are beautiful, educated and talented – you have the potential of becoming a famous demimonde as I was in my younger days. If you play your cards right, you might even have a secure future and live out comfortably for the rest of your life…"
I squirmed at the awful thought of bedding various men.
"It is not as bad as you think, Meg… I will teach you everything you need to know to succeed," said Madame as she noticed the frown on my face. Sensing that I was not responding to her inclinations, she hinted, "Your mother is ill, is she not?"
My head shot up in surprise. How did she know? Did Yvette tell her about my mother's dire situation as well?
"Well, I have the means to ensure that she gets the best treatment at the hospital," she said as her hand reached out to hold mine. "Stay here, Meg and all your worries will come to an end. You can have anything you want."
So tempting was her offer that I could not refuse her. I was much reduced that day. I wanted an end to our suffering so desperately that I swallowed my battered pride.
"You mean that?" I stammered.
"Of course! All you have to do is say, yes."
…ooo…ooo…ooo…ooo….
The next day, a carriage arrived to take Maman to a hospital on the outskirts of Paris, where she would receive the best medical treatment, and the fresh country air would help her recuperate. Madame Roget promised me that I could visit Maman at least once a week. I had my own little room – it was beautifully decorated in pastel shades and I had my own wardrobe of dresses and a dozen new ballerina shoes. I attended dancing lessons every day and had three full meals a day.
Despite the luxury given me, I was deeply aware that Madame Roget ran a pleasure house, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the night. The upper floors of the apartment were forbidden - only a select few courtesans were allowed to entertain guests there. Tales of passion and intrigue were whispered amongst the girls and the servants about the sordid happenings behind those doors.
There were fifteen of us living with Madame Roget, girls from various backgrounds and different upbringing. Michelle was the prima demimonde of the house - a lovely lady with chestnut colored hair and piercing blue eyes. Men bought tickets to watch her perform – the frenzied delirium of feathers, vulgar painted lips, and eyelashes of black and blue. She danced with naked feet, and thighs, and arms, and breasts barely covered by translucent costumes.
My first performance was a scant version of "Hannibal" – dressed as a harem slave, my costume was a beaded half bodice and billowing leggings made from the finest gauze. Little was left to the imagination as anyone could see through them. The audience was mostly men, the tuxedoed goatees and crooked noses in white vests and toppers would line the hall, with their hands posed on canes. Their eyes feasted and gorged on our bodies as we danced in front of them. I closed my eyes to their lust and pretended that I was on the stage at the Opera Populaire. As I hurried off the stage, I noticed the gentlemen would write something down on a piece of paper and hand it over to the male servants. A gentle nudge came from a dark-haired girl named Lily. "Only Madame knows what is in them but we all know that the men are placing a bid for a chance to wine and dine with us. You did very well tonight, Meg. Someone may notice you tonight," she said with a cheeky wink.
"Meg Giry?"
I abruptly turned around to see who it was and caught sight of Valmont, one of Madame's assistants coming towards me. "Get dressed quickly," he told me. "You are required in the Oriental Room."
My heart trembled as I replied, "Yes, Valmont..."
I sat down at my dressing table, lost in thought as I dipped a towel into the scented water and began to wipe off the face paint and glitter from my face. All this was so sudden. What do I do? What do I say?
All this time I had spun myself into a cozy cocoon – I felt safe, immersed in my own world of music and dancing. Now the cocoon was slowly unraveling in the ugly reality of my fate and instead of a butterfly taking flight, I floundered. Staring at my own reflection in the mirror, I saw a hopeless and lost child.
Maman, I cried out silently. I'm afraid!
Taking a deep breath, I steeled my jangled nerves and walked out to meet the mysterious guest for the evening. As Valmont escorted me to the Oriental Room, I could hear loud laughter and singing coming from inside. I shuddered at the sight of a group of young gentlemen who were present, who had too much drink and were behaving badly.
"Ah, here she is… the lovely lady of the evening! Come here and spare your favors for a deserving fellow over here… a titled blood." The man gestured to one of his friends.
"Damn you, Pierre! Let it go…"
"As your best friend, I want to treat you to a good time. Guess what? I bought you a courtesan!"
My heart nearly stopped when I recognized him – it was Armand d'Tournay, Raoul's cousin. He was sitting with his friends, enjoying the liquor and entertainment. Armand looked dashing in his velvet tuxedo and shiny boots and I suddenly became aware of my standing. My humiliation was complete. I turned away in shame and despair - I couldn't go through with this. He finally looked up at me. Oh, God! The look on his face!
"Meg?"
I shook my head and tried to hide my face. He jumped up from his chair and hurried over to me.
"It's me, Armand… don't you remember? We met at Raoul's chateau last year… I thought I would never see you again!" he exclaimed happily.
"Yes, Armand," I said weakly. "I remember now…Much has changed since we last met."
"What are you doing here?"
"I work here…"
He hid his surprise well. Unaware of my discomfort at the curious stares thrown our way, he went on, "Please don't go… You don't have to be afraid."
There was no malice in his voice as hesitantly, I took his arm and walked into the room with him. If Armand didn't mind the stares then, I shouldn't either. All his friends stared at me, inquired my name, and asked to be introduced to me.
"Gentlemen," he told his friends. "This beautiful lady here is Meg…"
That evening, I had found out that Armand had gone to the south of France during the winter holidays and that he studied law at the University of Paris. Armand and his friends had decided to come out to savor the night life that Paris had to offer. If it hadn't been for his friend Pierre, he would not have met me again. Armand continued to see me at Madame's house, something that I had begun to look forward to.
In his eyes, I was the prettiest woman present - elegant, graceful, smiling, and quite above myself with happiness. Men were eager to waltz with me but I had only eyes for Armand. I danced madly, ecstatically, drunk with pleasure, with no thought for anything, in the triumph of my beauty, in the pride of my success, in a cloud of happiness. Armand was funny, attentive and caring and yet, he never once brought up the subject of me being a courtesan. Did he not care that he would have to share me with other men?
One evening, Yvette arrived at Madame Roget's place and immediately came over to see me.
"Yvette!" I said with a frantic smile as I briefly introduced Armand to her. She trembled with delight as Armand smiled and briefly kissed her hand. Yvette turned to me and whispered, "Is he the one? You know… the one you were going out to meet the last time?"
It took me a while to recall the incident – I had forgotten that I had asked Yvette's help to deliver Christine's note to Erik. I had told Yvette that I was meeting a friend whose name was 'Armand'. It had been a wonderful plan initially, but now I wished I had never done it.
"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Armand," she said excitedly. "Meg has been so secretive about your identity."
Armand threw me a curious look but made no attempt to correct Yvette's assumptions. He merely smiled and answered her questions politely. They chatted for a while and Yvette promised that the three of us should go out together someday, with Madame's permission of course. I just gave a non-committal shrug.
After Yvette had gone, Armand noticed my anguish as he said quietly, "I'm not the one she spoke of. Who is he? Is he your lover?"
I stared at the man who sat before me, the man whom I had grown to love. I could tell that he liked me too. We had been seeing each other for many weeks. Why now? When he suspected that there was someone else? For a moment, I felt an urge to break through the veneer of pretense to the real feelings and issues running like a deep undercurrent of our relationship. I shook my head. "He's not my lover…It's a long story… maybe, one day I will tell you all about it."
Armand relaxed considerably. "I'm relieved that I don't have a rival for your affections, Meg. I thought you already have a lover."
"If I had a lover, I wouldn't be spending my evenings with you."
For a long time, neither of us moved nor spoke. Finally, Armand stood up and picked his coat off the rack. "I will be leaving Paris for a while. I won't be back until maybe May or June."
"So long?" I said, my lips quivering. I could not imagine being without Armand – it was now or never. "Take me with you…"
Please don't ask me to beg…
He turned and looked at me with haunting sadness. "I wish I could, Meg… but it just doesn't seem possible. You have beautiful clothes and plenty to eat … you're better off here than with me," he finished abruptly. What was he saying? I could not believe it - Armand was telling me to be content with my lot!
"You need not worry," I told him coldly. "I will not ask again."
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was hoping that Armand would save me from my wretched existence. Stupid me!
Armand ran his fingers through his hair carelessly. "Listen to me, Meg. I tried… I asked Madame Roget to name her price… not once but three times! She refused… She said that she would never let you go, not at any price."
The revelation shook me to the core as I sank down on the chaise. "Why did you not tell me this?"
"Because I didn't want to give you hope when there is none!" he cried out in frustration. "I am as trapped as you are, Meg…I have a duty to my family, to society and its traditions. Do you not understand? We can never ever be truly free."
…ooo…ooo…ooo…ooo…
Author's Note: This is where the story goes AU. Enjoy!