Although it was summer, there was a chill in the air at night after the sun went down. Whether it was that fact or the uneasy, cautious feeling a person gets from living on the outskirts of Paris that made her long for sleep, Madame LaCharde – also known as the angel maker – would never know, nor did she care. Pulling her cloak closer around her, all she cared about was crawling into bed to find a bit of peace after a long day.
Hence why it did not please her to see a visitor waiting on her doorstep.
"Who's there?" she called impatiently. "What do you want?"
When the visitor stepped forward and lowered her hood to reveal that it was Fifi, LaCharde groaned.
"Surprise, surprise," she whined sarcastically.
Fifi smirked smugly. "Missed me, have you?"
"Whichever noble's bastard that you have saddled yourself with can wait until morning," LaCharde replied, the sarcasm still very present. "I am in no mood to deal with you tonight."
"Not with me, but how about this?" Fifi asked, dangling a money purse in front of the woman's nose.
LaCharde eyed it greedily for a long, thoughtful moment before she snatched it from Fifi's hand. Giving it a good shake, she sneered, "Huh, fifty francs or so, I'd wager. You must have screwed around fairly well this week to afford this much."
"Call that half of what I will give you in return for a favor," Fifi answered with casual promise.
LaCharde sighed, exasperated. "This had better be worth my time," she warned, opening her door and gesturing Fifi to follow her.
Once inside the tiny house, LaCharde nodded to a chair in a silent invitation to sit. "I knew I should have convinced your mother to do away with you," she growled, taking the opposite chair after grabbing two bottles of cheap wine from the kitchen. "Perhaps then I would be able to get some sleep."
"Perhaps, yes, but then you would not have most of your money, considering all that I have done for you," Fifi reminded her, taking one of the bottles for herself. "Not only my own payments but also the others that I have sent."
LaCharde took the first long drink of wine, hardly flinching at the strong aftertaste. "So which is it this time?" she asked.
"The second choice."
"Another referral, good girl!" LaCharde snickered. "What is the sob story?"
"One of the younger brats," Fifi said, laughing, sickeningly humored at the thought. "Finally decides to prove herself a true Fleurette by taking a lover and ruins everything by getting pregnant."
LaCharde only responded after she took another swig of wine. "And…what did she do to you? You never send anyone to me otherwise."
Fifi laughed harder and raised her bottle as if making a proud toast. "She did not do anything to me at all."
LaCharde raised an eyebrow. "Then you are actually helping the girl? No strings attached? I refuse to believe it."
Fifi smirked maliciously, finishing off more than half of her bottle in one drink. "I said she did not do anything to me, and all I need you to do is get rid of the baby. The rest of my plan will slowly play out over time. For now, let's just say, all of us involved will get what we deserve in the end. You have my word on that."
ooo
Babette thanked the heavens that Lucien was not able to visit the following week. She never wanted him to see her so stressed and anxious as she was that next night in the dressing room. Between the need to keep Brielle's delicate situation a secret and wondering why Fifi had gone out of her way to help, Babette's nerves were being pushed to their limits. Only Odette and Aubrey noticed the sudden change in her normally vivacious personality.
In the privacy of the dressing room, Odette occasionally glanced at Babette while both girls as well as Aubrey went about fixing their hair.
"You have been very quiet," Odette murmured. "Not talking much at all for an entire week."
"Oui, normally we have too much trouble trying to shut her up," Aubrey added, rather curtly, even for her.
Babette shrugged, staying silent as much as it hurt her to do so. These girls were her best friends! She could go to them whenever a problem arose, whenever there was something incredibly wrong, and they would be there for her, but not this time. As much as it killed her, she could not break her promise to Brielle.
After another unbearable pause, Aubrey pinned her hair in place, and slowly she turned on Babette, leaning against an open spot on the table casually.
"I guess we are just waiting for the truth," she said slowly.
"There is no truth that needs to be told," Babette answered calmly. "Sometimes it is best to rest your voice, and I am doing that now."
"Liar."
"Aubrey," Odette said, her tone that of a warning. "Don't."
Babette held her hand high for silence before she turned to face Aubrey at the accusation. "There is nothing for us to talk about."
Without hesitation, Babette headed for the door to avoid confrontation, but Aubrey's mouth was faster than her feet.
"And yet you can tell Fifi anything and everything?"
Babette halted in place, but did not turn around. "That is not true."
"When it comes to you lately, I don't think I would be able to tell the difference between truth and lies," Aubrey countered.
As Babette turned, gritting her teeth, Odette tried again to end the tension.
"Aubrey, come on, that is enough," she said firmly. "Even you do not talk about everything that is bothering you; just let it go."
"I won't ignore a question of loyalty!" Aubrey snapped.
Babette immediately came towards them at that. "What exactly are you saying?" she asked.
Aubrey stood tall, eye-to-eye with her, threateningly. "Do me a favor, little girl," she growled. "When you do decide what is wrong, do not come looking for us. You know where Fifi is; you can go to her."
"Well, maybe I will," Babette snarled. "What did you call this? A question of loyalty?" She stopped for a moment to laugh tauntingly. "Loyalty indeed! A supposed friend goes only by what she sees when deciding what to believe!"
"Funny then, how I try to find out the truth, and yet you won't tell me!" Aubrey retorted. "How am I supposed to know what to believe?"
"It is called trust!"
"And honesty!"
"Stop it!" Odette shouted, shoving her way in between them to prevent what she knew would follow words. "Both of you! Whatever is going on, it is getting to your heads, and driving you crazy!" To Babette, she said, "When you are ready to talk, I know you will. For now, we have to drop it and leave it alone."
Before she could say anything to Aubrey, the blonde shoved her way passed the both of them. "I'll leave it alone, all right!" she called. "Just don't come crawling to me when Fifi turns on you! You won't get any of my sympathy!"
Aubrey shoved angrily at the door as she stormed out, nearly hitting Fifi, who was standing right outside.
"Dieu, what is the problem now with her?" Fifi said, miffed. "She is not worth the trouble she causes! Madame should have thrown her out long ago."
"I could say the same for you," Odette muttered, earning her a dirty look from Fifi.
Babette closed her eyes, wanting to die right where she stood. "What is it now?"
Fifi glanced haughtily at Odette before she replied. "Do you really think it is a good idea to talk around…some people?"
Babette glared at her, but then looked to Odette, trying to find words to make up for everything. Odette merely nodded before returning to the hair fixing.
Turning back to Fifi, Babette could only follow unwillingly as they made their way to a private room.
"Later tonight, half past ten," Fifi reported. "It is the only time that Madame LaCharde can see her."
Babette's eyes widened, very much in a panic. "What do you mean 'later tonight'? You expect her to just walk in there and be ready to get rid of her baby so easily?"
"It can not be helped!" Fifi argued. "It is tonight or not at all!"
"When exactly did you plan on telling me this?"
"I found out just now myself! Sorry, but time was never LaCharde's forte!"
Babette sighed, angry and frustrated as she paced the small length of the room. "This is our busiest night! D'Araignée is going to have my head and throw Brielle out, I swear!"
"Will you relax?" Fifi cried, gripping Babette by the shoulders. "Did I not promise that I would handle everything? That includes everything here as well! Leave D'Araignée to me; she will not know a thing! I will cover for both of you! Your only concern right now is going with Brielle and staying with her until it is all over!"
Babette took a deep breath. "You…are right," she agreed, hating to admit it. "Get Brielle through this; that is all I have to do."
Fifi nodded, walking to the door to check a nearby clock. "You do not have much time," she warned. "Go get ready to leave; Brielle is already doing so. A carriage is waiting outside, around the back; the driver knows where to go."
"Oui, get ready," Babette repeated as she walked to the door, but stopped when she reached it. Turning back to Fifi, she gathered all of her strength to sincerely add, "Fifi? Merci…for everything, I mean it."
"De rien," Fifi replied sweetly, waiting until Babette left before breaking into a vicious smirk. "I only want to make sure everything works out perfectly."
ooo
First the carriage rattling down the dark roads, and now a small house that looked like something out of a ghost story. Maybe it was the frightening idea of what Brielle was about to go through, but both she and Babette shivered as they walked up the creaky small steps to Madame LaCharde's home. As Brielle held her one hand in both of her own, Babette took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The intimidating figure of an older woman completed the haunting scene, enough for Brielle's grip to tighten and nearly cut off Babette's circulation.
"Madame LaCharde?" Babette asked, coming to her senses after a fearful pause. The woman nodded. "Fifi sent us to…"
"I know," LaCharde interrupted, stepping aside to gesture the girls inside as she led them up another stairwell.
"Now which of you is the proud mother?" LaCharde inquired with a chuckle. One look at the cowering Brielle once they reached the top gave her the confirmation. "Well that answers the question, oui?" she snickered, opening a door. "Please wait in here, and I will be right with you."
Babette nodded with a quiet "Merci," before LaCharde shut the door. Brielle was stiff as a rod as she gazed around the unsettling room. A number of towels, a pitcher and basin sat on the tiny chest of drawers on one side of the room, and an awfully uncomfortable looking bed was set against the opposite wall. Overall simple, yet very eerie.
"Well, it certainly is…cozy," Babette offered, attempting to be lighthearted for Brielle's sake.
Brielle did not even seem to hear her, and Babette was silent as she watched her friend slowly walk to the small bed. Brielle sat down cautiously, as though the mattress would collapse underneath her, and absently ran her hands over the sheets. As expected, Babette immediately saw the tears start welling up in her eyes, and she raced to Brielle's side, holding her close.
"I didn't mean for this to happen!" Brielle cried. "There has to be another way!"
"Hush now, petite," Babette comforted, soothingly rubbing her back. "I wish there was, but there is none."
"I can make it work! I don't want to be a murderer!"
"Stop talking like that," Babette ordered firmly, but gently. "You are only doing what is best for you and the baby."
Brielle shook her head, burying her face on Babette's shoulder. "I didn't mean it, really; never thought this would happen!"
Babette tightened her hold. "None of us ever do," she murmured. "But you only have one choice now, and for the baby's sake, and yours, it is the best one."
Brielle looked up at her, her eyes frightened and innocent, so much that Babette felt her own tears coming on. Brielle was just as much a child as the baby they were here to rid her of; it was so unfair for her to endure any of this.
"Babette, don't leave me, please," she said pleadingly. "Hold my hand, and don't leave me. I can't do this alone!"
"I am not going anywhere," Babette promised with a smile. "You are my best friend, and I will be here for you. I swear, I will not leave your side."
LaCharde opened the door a moment later, a steaming cup in her hand.
"How incredibly touching," she sneered. "Well you two are going to stick together for a long time; the process should be done by tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Babette cried as Brielle's sobs came harder. "An entire day?"
"Very good, mademoiselle!" LaCharde replied sarcastically. "A day, an entire twenty-four hours, once she drinks this." She handed Brielle the cup, which contained a foul smelling, light colored tea. "Her body will do the rest."
"We can not be here for a whole day!" Babette argued. "It is hard enough to be here for a little while! The girl is terrified!"
LaCharde did not even flinch. "I could do it in a little while," she said. "I will have to fetch the old corkscrew, and it could be done in a matter of minutes. The chances of her surviving that, however, are not likely. Now which do you prefer?"
Babette closed her eyes, and nodded in agreement. "Très bien, I understand."
"I thought you would," LaCharde replied, exasperated. Why could they never understand that less arguing made things happen faster? Walking to the door, she concluded. "Now drink up, and I will check in later on. Salud!"
Babette wanted to wring her neck for that last comment. The nerve, as if this entire procedure was a joke! But it would not do any good to upset Brielle any more than she already was. Thus, returning to the bed, Babette sat down with a sigh, before she took her friend's hand.
"Go on, I will be right here," she said gently.
Brielle trembled, tears still flowing, as she brought the cup to her lips and swallowed the awful concoction quickly. It earned her a horrible coughing fit, but the fit was better than having to sip the tea drop by drop. Placing the cup aside, she curled up in Babette's arms, both girls only doing what they could now: wait and pray.
ooo
Babette would never forget that horrendous night. She couldn't bear to see her friend in such agony, but there was nothing she could do to ease her pain. Finally, the following night arrived, and the physical ordeal was over, although the emotional scars would linger for a lifetime.
The only help she received from LaCharde was getting another carriage. The chore of having to get Brielle down the stairs was entirely in Babette's hands, and she cursed herself for not being stronger. Brielle was so weak and helpless, and it took all of Babette's strength to hold her up. Thankfully, they were blessed with a kind driver, who carried Brielle from the doorstep to the carriage itself and lifted her inside once Babette was seated in place to hold her comfortably. When they arrived at Le Fleur Noir, Babette gave him an extra few francs for his help before taking on the grueling challenge of getting her upstairs without being caught.
So far, so good, Babette thought, counting their blessings to this point. The performances sounded to be well underway, meaning no one would be near the back stairwell, and sure enough, with a lot of effort, she succeeded in getting Brielle into her room.
Quickly and quietly, Babette barely managed to change her into a light camisole and pantalets, grimacing as she gathered the bloodied clothes. Resting Brielle comfortably into bed, Babette hid them as best she could until later when she could hopefully get everything cleaned before she returned to Brielle's side.
Brushing the girl's unruly hair away from her face, Babette whispered, "How are you feeling?"
Brielle's eyes were practically glazed over as she weakly looked up at her, and then shook her head.
"Stupid question, I know," Babette replied. "Just sleep for now, petite; you deserve it. I will be back to see you later."
Brielle was all too willing to obey as she fell asleep, her normally sweet face marred with an intense look of pain. After tucking a blanket around her, Babette headed to her own room to change and made her way downstairs. She breathed a sigh of relief that no one had come upon her or Brielle. But her streak of good luck was about to end.
Babette hardly had any time to process what had happened as she was literally dragged away from the stairwell. But when she understood, she found herself looking into the terrifying gaze of D'Araignée.
"At last decided that we were worthy of your valuable time, have you?"
Foolishly not thinking, Babette tore her arm away, which only earned her a slap and D'Araignée gripping it again, tighter.
"What are you talking about?" Babette asked, slightly cowering on instinct.
"Do not play stupid with me, you deceitful little slut!" D'Araignée hissed.
Babette struggled as D'Araignée pulled her towards the back office. That room had always been the one place that every Fleurette feared being sent to…but when she saw Fifi, sitting in a chair and smirking nastily at her, that was when the true fear struck her.
Looking between D'Araignée and Fifi, Babette knew she was doomed.
