Chapter 93: BABY FACE
Two hours later
The American Hospital in Paris
Private Waiting Room
"Monsieur Bates, the coffee is here."
Bates turned from the window but avoided looking directly into Ella's sad eyes. "As I've told you, milady, it's Bates," he responded gruffly. "Simply Bates."
"Won't you have some coffee with us, Bates? The Inspector will return soon, and you'll want a clear head," replied Ella. "And as I've told you, it's Ella," she added gently. "Simply Ella."
Bates knew his behaviour was spiteful, but he could not help himself. He did not feel comfortable waiting with the Dowager and her friends, not because of his station but because of his anger. He poured himself a cup of coffee and returned to the window where he gazed at the early morning traffic.
The door opened and Inspector Martel entered with a uniformed police officer. The Inspector's English was sufficient, but he spoke with a thick accent, and Bates had to concentrate to understand him. "Sorry for ze wait. I take ze statement from Monsieur Barrow. So many doctors. Zey push me zis way an' zat." The Inspector turned to Bates. "Monsieur Bates, zis is Officer Cale Tremble. Tremble was ze first to find your brozer, an' 'e want to meet you."
Tremble's broad grin filled Bates with resentment. "Does he think this is funny?"
A shadow crossed the Inspector's face. "Monsieur Bates, you do not understand. A day zat Tremble finds ze victim alive is a good day. Tremble 'as many bad days."
Bates felt his cheeks burn. "I beg your pardon, Inspector Martel. That was insensitive of me. Please tell Officer Tremble that I appreciate his rescuing my brother, and I would like to shake his hand."
The Inspector translated and Tremble offered his hand, which Bates shook firmly. Tremble spoke excitedly in French and jerked his hand upward a couple of times. Bates looked to the Inspector for the meaning of the odd gesture.
"Tremble says 'e find your brozer's teez on ze floor. 'e push ze teez back where zey belong."
"Are you saying my brother's teeth were knocked out?"
"Oui, Monsieur Bates. Ze two in front. Ze doctor say ze teez may ... attach because Tremble was quick!"
Bates could not help but wince. "Please thank him again."
The Inspector translated. Tremble grinned and nodded and excused himself from the room.
The Inspector turned to the three women. "Monsieur Barrow is glad zat you come. 'e ask zat you go now.
"We'll do no such thing," objected the Dowager.
"Monsieur Barrow is ... ashamed zat 'e is so ... ugly," explained the Inspector.
"Vi," chided Lady Bennett, "the least we can do is honour the man's wishes. He's only asking for a little time to recover from the worst of it."
The Dowager rose from her seat. "You're right, Addy. This is not the time for me to win an argument. We'll be on our way, Inspector."
Lady Bennett stood. "Bates, we'll take a taxi and leave Dubois and the car at your disposal."
"Thank you, milady."
Ella turned to Bates as though to speak, changed her mind, and left with the others.
The Inspector waited for the women to leave and handed a paper to Bates. Bates slipped on his reading glasses and opened the paper. It was Thomas' statement. Bates sat and read the paper slowly, absorbing every word. It was a cold, objective narrative of the last two days as Thomas had experienced them, devoid of the anguish he must have felt as the hours passed. Bates pressed his fingers to his forehead. Thomas had been strong. Would he have managed half as well? He returned the paper to the Inspector. "May I see him now?"
"Yes, but ..."
"But what?" asked Bates. He felt his stomach turn over.
"I do not mean to frighten you, Monsieur Bates. It is only ..." The inspector chuckled. "I could not make your brozer understand zat you be here. 'e insists you be in England."
Late that same morning
Lady Bennett's Car
Bates expression was grim. It had been grim when Thomas first saw him at the hospital, and it was grim now. Thomas knew what was coming. A lecture. A lecture on the consequences of playing games with other people's lives. So what if Bates was angry with him? He had come all the way from England when his little brother was in trouble, and that was what counted.
There were so many things Thomas had intended to say to Bates if he were to survive the kidnapping, but once they were face-to-face, all he could manage was, "Take me home, John." Bates did not reply; he merely nodded. Thomas could hear Bates negotiating his release with the English-speaking doctor in charge of his case. After much debate, the doctor relented. The hospital chemist gathered bandages, laudanum, and salve, and wrote out the discharge instructions in English.
Now Bates sat in the car with one hand gripping the sack from the chemist and the other supporting Thomas by his uninjured arm. He spoke his first words to Thomas in the car. "Close your eyes, Pooh, and sleep if you like. I'll wake you when we arrive."
Pooh. How angry can he be if he's calling me Pooh? Thomas closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but just as he drifted off, he jerked himself awake. He had not allowed himself to sleep for two days and was having difficulty adjusting to his change of situation. He closed his eyes again and ran his tongue along his front teeth to feel the wire holding them in place. Thomas had been surprised when a dentist came to the hospital in the wee hours to treat him. The Inspector told him that it was Lady Bennett's doing. She held a position of influence in Paris that Thomas had not fully appreciated.
A short time later
Thomas Barrow's Room
Maison de Bennett
Bates set down the sack and Old Ram. "Brouette, would you give us a few minutes alone?"
"Certainly, Monsieur Bates. I'll fetch some lemonade for Monsieur Barrow."
"Please," Thomas croaked. "A pitcher."
Brouette nodded and closed the door behind him.
Thomas was utterly exhausted and had no idea what he should do next. He would leave that to Bates. Bates began to unbutton Thomas' dinner jacket that never had its Charleston with Josephine Baker. "I don't know why you insisted on wearing your waistcoat and jacket in the car on such a hot day." Thomas shrugged. Bates would discover soon enough the scent of two days' perspiration under his clothes. But Bates made no comment, not even when Thomas was down to his shirtsleeves. He simply unbuttoned his own coat and gazed at Thomas for a moment. "I didn't want to embarrass you, so I waited until we were alone," he began.
Here it comes, thought Thomas. The lecture. Am I not even allowed to sit first?
"I'm sorry," continued Bates, "but this is something I must do." Bates slipped his hands under Thomas' arms and gingerly embraced him. "Am I hurting you?"
"What does it matter?" Thomas surrendered his weight to Bates' broad chest and round belly. Here was a man who would have truly mourned for him, who would have shed honest tears for him and deeply felt the loss of the friend he called little brother. For a moment, Thomas felt lifted out of his pain.
Reassured, Bates pulled Thomas as close as he could, one hand on his back and the other cradling his head. "I thought I might never ..."
"Don't. Please." Thomas could feel Bates nod his head in agreement. He could feel Bates press his clean-shaven cheek against his own bristle. "Iskies," joked Thomas. He could feel a chuckle bubble up from Bates' belly, and it made him happy. He clung to Bates as long as he could, but the dehydration and concussion won out. "John, I have to sit."
Thomas sat on the bed, and Bates sat next to him. "Pooh, there's something I must say."
So, there's a lecture after all.
"I know you dislike it when I fuss, but I sat here for two days waiting and helpless. Today, I'm going to fuss. Tomorrow, too, so you may as well resign yourself to it."
Thomas smiled inwardly because smiling outwardly with three stitches under his lip was too painful. "I'll try to bear it." He began to unbutton his shirt, but he had a hairline fracture in his left hand, and his right hand was all thumbs.
"What did I tell you, Pooh? I'll do it."
As Bates unbuttoned the shirt, Thomas realized he was missing Lord Bennett's cuff links and began to panic. "Where are the links? Where's my wallet? Where's Lady Bennett's money?"
"Don't worry, Pooh. The police have everything. Everything's fine."
Thomas nodded. At the hospital, the Inspector had informed him that Giroux was in jail. He promised that he would explain everything to Thomas in a day or two, after he'd had a chance to sleep and recover.
A light knock sounded at the door. "I have the lemonade," called Brouette.
Bates opened the door, and Brouette set down the tray and poured a tall glass for Thomas. Thomas downed the glass quickly, not caring that he could not quite control his lip and was dribbling lemonade down his neck and chest. "More, please."
Brouette and Bates laughed, and Brouette poured a second glass. Thomas downed the second glass as quickly as the first and ran his uninjured hand over his mouth. "It's good, John. Have some."
"Later, perhaps. What do you want first, Pooh? Food or sleep?"
"A bath. Please, John."
"Whatever you want, Pooh."
"But Monsieur Bates, the bandages ..."
"My brother may have whatever he wants today, and he wants a bath. I'll take care of the bandages."
"His skin. It will be sensitive to hot water."
Thomas looked down at his chest. His unbuttoned white shirt framed his irritated pink skin.
"A bath needn't be hot," replied Bates. "A warm bath will refresh him just as well."
"Lady Bennett keeps a supply of Pears soap. I'll bring you a bar. It will be kinder to you, Monsieur Barrow." Thomas nodded. Brouette picked up Thomas' ruined dinner jacket. "I'll take care of this, too."
Bates prepared the bath, and Brouette returned in short order with an unopened bar of Pears. He helped Thomas into the tub. There was nothing wrong with Thomas' legs, but he was stiff and clumsy. Brouette placed a chair next to the tub for Bates. Bates asked Brouette to bring lunch after a bit.
"I can't chew," apologised Thomas.
"Chef will know what to prepare, Monsieur Barrow. Lord Bennett had several bad teeth pulled a few years ago, but Chef kept him satisfied."
Thomas nodded and closed his eyes.
"He's falling asleep, Monsieur Bates."
"That's all right. I'm right here," assured Bates.
"I'll get the little brother's lunch."
Little brother, thought Thomas. That's cheeky. Then he heard Bates call, "Brouette?"
"Yes?"
"I don't know how I could have managed these two days without you."
"We older brothers must help each other," replied Brouette.
Thomas heard the door shut. He felt irritated with himself and wondered why he was always thinking the worst of people. He was soothed by the sound of splashing water and Bates' voice and the herbal scent of the soap.
Thomas found himself sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in towels. Bates, in his shirtsleeves now, brought another towel from the bathroom. "Feeling better?"
"Much."
Bates draped the towel over Thomas' head. Thomas liked the peaceful solitude under the towel. He felt Bates' broad hands spread across the towel to dry his hair. Thomas allowed himself to lean forward and rest the uninjured side of his face against Bates' belly.
"I can't rub too vigorously, Pooh. I'm afraid your poor noggin will come right off in my hands."
"I know."
"Do you want a shave today or tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
Bates changed the bandage on Thomas' arm and replaced the towels with a robe. Brouette arrived with a cart and set out lunch while Bates changed the bandages where the twine had rubbed Thomas' skin raw. He gently pulled the wet glove from Thomas' left hand and pulled on a fresh one. The doctor had thought the close-fitting glove was preferable to a splint.
"I'll change the bandage under your lip after you eat, Pooh."
Brouette pulled the food-ladened table away from the chairs so that Thomas could sit easily. "Chef thought you could manage some fish. He strained the mushrooms out of the sauce."
Thomas had been given only soup at the hospital and could not hold himself back. Manners be damned. He ate as quickly as his poor mouth could manage, which was not quick enough to suit him. Brouette pointed out a separate dish to Bates that contained sauce with mushrooms included. Bates peeked under the various cloches. "Brouette, there's enough food here to feed the cavalry and its horses. Grab that chair from the bathroom and sit down with us and eat."
Thomas looked up from his plate to voice his agreement but choked on his last bite. Bates clapped his back a few times. "Slow down, little brother. No one's going to take it away from you." He leaned close to Thomas' ear. "It does my heart good to see you eat with appetite, Pooh."
Thomas nodded and coughed to clear his throat.
Bates returned his attention to Brouette. "We're two butlers and a valet. Sit down and eat. Or are you too good for us?"
"I'm not too good for this food." The two men laughed, and Thomas nodded. Brouette joined the table and served himself on a bread plate. He asked about this Pooh name. Bates explained about Winnie-the-Pooh as he scooped peas onto Thomas plate and mashed them a bit with his fork. Thomas devoured them.
When the three men were sated, Brouette stood. "The cavalry's no match for us. Are you ready for dessert, Monsieur Barrow? Chef made some peach ice. He thought it would numb the pain a bit ... the pain in your mouth."
"Ready!" answered Thomas.
Brouette left with the cart. Thomas took another sip of lemonade, sat back, and closed his eyes.
"You're ready to drop, Pooh. You don't have to stay awake for the ice if you're too tired."
"I want it! I've earned it!"
Bates laughed. Thomas heard him walk to the chest of drawers and back. "Tilt your head up a bit, Pooh."
Thomas opened his eyes and lifted his chin.
Bates combed Thomas' hair. "I know you always want to be at your prettiest," he teased.
Thomas gazed at Bates. He knew Bates would be honest with him. "John ... am I ugly now?"
Bates' features tightened. "You ask me that now when you're lucky to be alive!"
Thomas hung his head. He knew Bates was not a vain man, but he would have the same concerns if his teeth had been knocked out and his face had been stitched.
Bates placed a finger lightly under Thomas' chin. "Look at me, Pooh." Thomas raised his head. "Well, you're no beauty today. What you need is a good beauty sleep." Thomas averted his gaze. "I'm serious, Pooh. After the swelling and the black and blue are gone, all you'll have is a small scar under your lip."
"And missing teeth."
"They're not missing, Pooh. And if they don't take, you can always have a bridge done."
Thomas found himself sitting again on the edge of the bed. The peach ice had been wonderfully refreshing. Sadly, he had to dispel the lingering flavour with the prescribed salt water rinse. While he was still in the bathroom relieving himself, he heard Bates speaking to Brouette in the bedroom.
"I'm going to apply the salve now. You should go, Brouette. I don't want to embarrass him with an audience. He had enough of that at the hospital."
Now Thomas was waiting on the bed while Bates was washing his hands.
"John, where are my pyjamas?"
"The salve first, Pooh. Didn't you hear the doctor say that your skin might recover more quickly if you sleep naked?"
Thomas shook his head.
"It's up to you. Do you want pyjamas?"
"It won't bother you if I sleep without?" Thomas asked.
Bates chuckled. "No, Pooh, it won't bother me. I want you to be comfortable." Bates pulled back the covers and slipped off Thomas' robe. Thomas lay flat on his back, naked and exposed on the silky sheets. He felt as though every pore in his body were taking large, gulping breaths of air.
Bates smiled. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
"You have no idea." Thomas watched Bates as his face grew serious. He examined Thomas carefully and applied the salve wherever it was needed. Thomas had often thought of Bates as a big bear, but that wasn't quite right. He was a big mama bear.
"You can turn over now, Pooh."
Thomas turned holding his bruised ribs. He waited, but Bates didn't say anything or apply the salve. "Nothing there?"
"Your back's not too bad, Pooh, but your poor bottom's bright red."
"I sat on it for two days and two nights. I can apply the salve, John. You don't have to do it."
"Don't be silly, Pooh. I'll do it. I'll have to bandage your legs just above the knee. The doctor must have missed that."
"The chair seat cut into my legs. Felt as though my legs were being sawed in two after a while."
Bates touched Thomas' hair. "Close your eyes, Pooh, and go to sleep. I'll cover you with the sheet when I'm done."
"No, I think I better not sleep on my ribs."
"All right. I'll finish as quickly as I can." After applying the salve, Bates went into the bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned, he was singing:
I'm just wild about Anna
And Anna's wild about me;
The heavenly blisses of her
Kisses fill me with ecstasy.
She's sweet just like sugar candy
And just like honey from a bee;
Oh, I'm just wild about Anna
And she's just wild about,
She can't do without,
She's just wild about me.
Thomas held his ribs and laughed.
"Hold still, Pooh. I'm starting the bandages."
Thomas never knew Bates to sing a song that was written in this century, let alone in this decade. "Where did you learn a song like that?"
"I heard Minnie singing it. She was wild about Harry; I wasn't."
"Do you have a song for me?"
"Certainly.
"Baby Face, you've got the cutest little baby face
There's not another one could take your place, Baby face
My poor heart is jumpin', you sure have started somethin'
Baby face, I'm up in heaven when we plan our move to the states
I didn't need a shove, 'cause I just fell in love
With your handsome baby face
"All done." Thomas cautiously rolled over, and Bates covered him with the sheet. "I almost forgot the laudanum." Thomas sat up, and Bates gave him a full dose according to the directions written by the chemist. "Enjoy it, Pooh. Next time, it'll be only a half dose." Thomas lay back on the bed. "Remember, I have to wake you every two hours, the same as when you had a concussion last year. Every two hours until 4.00 tomorrow morning. Shall I close the drapes?"
"No, it's too hot." Thomas watched as Bates straightened up the medical supplies. "John, where's your room?"
"I'm sleeping in the dressing room."
"You didn't sleep in here while I was gone?"
"I couldn't Pooh. That's your bed."
Thomas understood. If Bates had slept in his bed, it would have been the same as saying that he wasn't coming back. "John ..."
"Hmm?"
"I love you, John."
"I love you too, Pooh," Bates replied easily.
Thomas knew that Bates did not mean it in the same way he did. Still, it felt grand to say it and to have it returned so readily. He closed his eyes and waited for the laudanum to take him.
