Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling

Part 3/Chapter 4

Over the next weeks and months, Bellamy became a standing joke to his workmates. Marcel couldn't say anything, as Bellamy followed the rules as he saw them, and tried to stick religiously to those women he thought were over forty, and definitely over thirty-five. He never hurt feelings, and, unless dismissed, never started with another woman until the previous one left the ship. A lot of women had a wonderful holiday with a young and goodlooking man who was an extremely good lover.

He laughed and whistled these days, and became a general favourite. He still didn't know his past, had no thought at all to a future, but was quite definitely enjoying the present. Estelle wasn't sure whether to be amused or disapproving. When she'd recommended a girlfriend, she hadn't expected him to take her advice quite so enthusiastically. He walked with the other old ones, too, and while Berthe was apt to talk about the ills of fornication, Sam and Jock were delighted, thoroughly approving.

There came the day that his latest girlfriend firmly escorted him to the ship's doctor, and watched, laughing at him pretending to be brave as he was given his REF injection. She thought it very funny that he trembled, but consoled him afterwards, with great skill. The doctor was amazed when he said that he didn't think he'd ever had a REF injection. It was routine. Everyone had a REF injection. Bellamy said something vague about moving around a lot.

He was in demand by the Games Coodinator, as his delight in play was infectious, and the dancing master roped him in regularly as a partner for spare women. It was through these activities that it became known that he could speak extra languages.

He was called in to the Personnel Officer one day, and asked exactly what languages he could speak. As he had before, he had difficulty with this question, but when asked if he knew a specific language, could answer easily. He had so far avoided talking to anyone about his past, and manners stopped nearly everyone persevering with unwelcome questions. But Evas was persistent.

Bellamy still didn't know his past, and became more and more disturbed when Evas wouldn't leave him alone. He started to shake, to the surprise of Evas, and turned silent, distressed. Evas finally abandoned his line of questioning, and made him a cup of coffee instead, although looking at him with a very penetrating gaze. Bellamy avoided his eyes, and after a while, stopped trembling. It was only then that Evas asked him why he was upset.

Bellamy evaded the question. "The trembling means nothing. I have minor trembling attacks now and then." And, stubbornly, "It means nothing."

Evas asked him if he knew Japanese, and Bellamy shook his head. "Chinese, though, both Cantonese and Mandarin. Also Arabic."

Evas shook his head in disbelief. "Russian?" he asked.

"Enough to get by. I'm not fluent."

But he was a bit of a mystery man, and possibly unstable, and Evas dismissed him, not offering him the planned place in the purser's office until he consulted with the purser and the other officers of the ship.

The purser didn't care that the new man might have a mysterious past, or became upset if questioned. His language problems were frequent, and a competent interpreter would be of enormous help. So Bellamy no longer mopped floors, and washed dishes or moved large boxes in the hold. Instead, he sorted out problems, and translated whenever required. He was good at it, too, with a knack for getting at the heart of the matter, which was often not quite what appeared to be the complaint. It was soon seen that his claim to know so many languages was not an idle boast. He was valued, his pay was increased, and he was having a wonderful time.

The officers used his skills sometimes, and found him supremely useful. The Second Officer had him equipped with two good quality jackets, such as they wore themselves, except without insignia, to wear over his uniform. He needed to look a little more formal for some of his current duties. Captain Rousseau wanted him in a few days in Piraeus, for example, where he liked to go to the Officers' Club. There were Ship's Officers' Clubs in many ports, and they were very popular. But there were many different nationalities, and always there were language problems. Having Bellamy at his side would give Rousseau the chance to talk to those who didn't know either French or English.

May, in Rome, twelve months after Bellamy joined the ship, he stood at the side of Rousseau, with a grouping of three other captains, Greek, English and Italian. He was concentrating, translating a four way conversation, trying to remember who understood what.

The Italian looked up, and greeted Giovanni Guido. Guido greeted him, and joined the group. In the midst of introductions, he stopped, mouth agape, and stared at Bellamy, "Henry Bellamy?"

Bellamy looked at him, eyebrows raised, a politely puzzled look on his face.

"I'm Captain Guido, Henry, don't you remember?" He spoke gently.

Bellamy looked away, and his face wore a confused look that it hadn't worn for a long time.

Captain Rousseau looked at Guido, and then at Bellamy, who had started to tremble. He remembered what Evas had said, that Bellamy had become distressed when questioned about his past. The Greek said something. Rousseau had to touch Bellamy on the shoulder before he remembered his job, shaking his head, trying to throw off the shock. He was a ghost from his past, but he couldn't remember his significance. The Greek repeated his words, and this time they were translated, but jerkily.

Bellamy wasn't needed after a while, when Rousseau became very involved in talking to the English Captain. Bellamy was trembling again, looking at Guido from across the room, and feeling lost and confused. He did not remember him, and it brought home to him that he had lost a lot of himself. He felt as if he'd been on the Belle Chartreusie forever, but knew that he couldn't have been. He stared out the window, at the black night, sipping at a glass of wine that the Greek had given him. He didn't like it much.

Guido joined him, using the same gentle tone, "Hello, Henry."

Bellamy was silent, looking at him defensively.

Guido said casually, "You look a lot older when you wear glasses."

Bellamy nodded slightly. He didn't know what to say to this man whom he couldn't remember.

Guido continued, "Would you like me to tell Mario that you're with the Belle Chartreusie?"

Bellamy frowned. Mario? A feeling of warmth and comfort came to him, but he couldn't quite remember the man.

Guido extended a hand, and touched him on the arm. "Don't worry about it, Henry. Forget I was here."

Bellamy nodded, relieved. He could do that. He was good at forgetting.

Guido spoke to Bellamy's Captain Rousseau before he left, though. Both their ships were to be there for a few days yet. Rousseau was curious, not having missed Bellamy's shock at the appearance of Guido. They glanced at Bellamy, who was now translating Greek to English for someone else. He looked perfectly at ease, and was shortly laughing at a joke, having forgotten that he was supposed to be respectful. Rousseau had noticed that sort of behaviour before. On occasions, he acted as if he was someone of note. There was often an assurance about him that seemed not quite compatible with his youth and relatively lowly position.

The following day, Rousseau spoke with Marcel, Bellamy's original supervisor, as well as the purser, who valued him highly. And he watched from a distance, as Bellamy escorted his friends, Estelle and Jock, to comfortable deckchairs, and brought them drinks. He wasn't on duty, fairly obviously, as, shortly afterwards, he whispered intimately to a plain woman of around forty, who smiled at him with delight, and they went off together in the direction of her cabin.

And then Rousseau visited the Costa Rivera, where Peter Inglis, Giovanni Guido, and Esta Raef waited impatiently. Most of the Italians had a smattering of English and French, but they'd arranged an interpreter anyway, another officer, new to the ship. Rousseau found himself the recipient of some very curious and interested questions.

"Simple-minded? Bellamy?" Rousseau laughed. Bellamy had a good intelligence, did his work very well, and he also told them about his exploits with the female passengers. He hadn't known about it before, but Marcel had told him how he'd jokingly given him permission to go with any single passenger over the age of thirty-five, and how Bellamy was taking full advantage of it. Loud in the minds of the Italians were thoughts of Mario, whom all were quite convinced had enjoyed a sexual, as well as a loving relationship with the boy whom they'd known. But none mentioned it to Rousseau. They told him about the fight on the Marchesa, though, and how he'd come to them afterwards, still in shock.

Guido spoke seriously, finally. He was positive that Bellamy hadn't recognised him, although it was less than two years since he'd left the ship. There was still something badly wrong with him.

Esta spoke firmly. "I would like to examine him, and maybe he should see a doctor - a psychiatrist. Your own ship's doctor should be advised."

Rousseau nodded. "I'll arrange it."

The following day, Rousseau called Bellamy aside, and said that he'd arranged for Dr. Esta Raef and Dr. Scott, their own ship's doctor, to have a thorough look at him, with attention to possible amnesia and mental problems.

Bellamy said, perfectly coolly, "No."

"It's an order, Bellamy," said Rousseau.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, "Or?"

Rousseau was becoming annoyed. "You do as you're ordered!"

Bellamy shook his head. "No examination."

Rousseau's tone hardened, "Do you want to be fired?"

Bellamy smiled. "In the last three weeks, I've had four job offers. It seems that languages are handy to have."

Rousseau snorted, but said nothing further about firing Bellamy.

But Esta found him anyway, as he used some of his off duty time in the ship's library, rearranging books. He liked books, and the one whose responsibilities included the library didn't seem to mind if they were out of order. There was no-one else there. And when Esta first saw him, he was holding a little book with a picture of a mare and foal on the cover, and staring into the distance.

"Do you know me, Henry?" she asked.

Bellamy looked at her, and the knowledge floated back. "Catherine."

Esta didn't correct him, but Bellamy was looking at her with a defensive, half frightened look. "Do you want to show me around the ship?" she asked.

He smiled at her, relieved. "I'd like that very much."

Bellamy told her a little about the ship as they strolled - they'd be going to London soon, and then America. Out of the blue, he said, "It's really Esta, isn't it, not Catherine."

Esta nodded.

They were silent for a little then, and she joined him at the railing as he regarded the Costa Rivera in the distance. Forgotten faces were coming back to him. Silvio, Taddeo, Bruno, Nino, Angelo and Mario. At last he spoke. "They were very good to me, you know."

Esta still suspected the men had taken advantage of him in his defencelessness, but said nothing about that. "Mario would like to know you're safe and well."

"He wouldn't know me now, and I said good-bye to him a long time ago."

"If I just told him after you were gone?"

Bellamy's forehead creased in indecision. And then he shrugged, "If you think so - I won't be staying with the ship much longer." The decision had come into his mind fully formed. It would soon be time to leave, to start knowing the past again.

Esta pointed. "A nice long pool."

Bellamy smiled, "I enjoy that pool. There's a gym, too, and a sauna, though I've never liked saunas."

"A spa?" asked Esta, who'd heard a rumour about late night sessions in a spa-room.

Bellamy nodded, "Not open to the crew, unfortunately. There's only two, and always in demand."

Esta put her suspicions finally aside. He would not have been so unmoved if anything unpleasant had occurred in the spa-rooms.

Bellamy consulted his watch. "Staying for lunch?"

This was another change, Esta noted. He had those revealing scars covered. "What's your schedule for today?" she asked.

"Lunch, and then I'm on duty. There's a new intake of passengers, and that's always busy." He spoke as if it was entirely routine.

Esta said warmly, "It's good to see you so well."

Bellamy was frowning. He didn't quite remember, but asked, "Was I a terrible nuisance?"

Esta asked, "What do you remember?" and Bellamy admitted, "Hardly anything."

Esta asked, "Do you think you should get professional help?"

But Bellamy looked at her with a vivid enjoyment on his face. "See Estelle over there, she recommended I find a girlfriend, and that's been better than any doctor!"

Esta reflected his grin. "We heard about that!" She kissed him good-bye then, and went to see Rousseau before she left. She recommended that Rousseau just leave him alone, he was working out his own cure.

Bellamy was left alone, then, to do his work, although Rousseau and a few of the other officers watched his activities with some additional curiosity. Dr. Scott looked after him curiously, too. He wondered why the Captain hadn't insisted on the arranged examination.

There was a remark made to Rousseau just a few weeks afterward. "You know who Bellamy's going with now? No less than the widow Boehm!" And the informant chuckled as he added, "Only about the wealthiest woman in the world!"

Rousseau frowned a bit at this? Was he after money? Maybe, after all, he should be discouraged.

But Ada Boehm made a mention of Bellamy at their dinner table not long later. "Your man, Bellamy. A bit of a mystery man, isn't he?" Rousseau said cautiously that he didn't know. Ada quizzed him further, but he only said he didn't make enquiries into the pasts of his crew.

Ada continued, "I've been having a lovely time with him. And then I offered him some money. He seemed absolutely taken aback - and then he declined perfectly politely, and said that he was actually a very wealthy man himself - and then he looked all confused, and said, 'I think!' He went all quiet, then."

Guido frowned in thought. "He said he was a very wealthy man?"

"He said that, but then he didn't seem to know."

Guido admitted then that Bellamy was a bit of a mystery man, and that his past was unknown.

"Maybe I should make some enquiries," said Ada. "He's so young. Maybe he was kidnapped when just a child, or something, and there's some grief stricken parents somewhere."

But when Ada spoke seriously to Bellamy, later on, as they lay together in bed, he was very definite that no enquiries should be made. Ada wasn't sure, but he said, "Please, Ada?" She patted his cheek, and agreed. She was leaving the ship the following day, and in spite of what she'd said, she did ask around among her friends. But her circle wasn't Bellamy's circle, and nothing was discovered.

In the Ministry of Magic, about the same time, Graham consulted a monitor, as he did now and then. For the first time, there were readings. No-one had readings like Bellamy, and Graham knew that he was close, still wore the sensor, and was better than he'd been in a long time. He didn't tell the aurors. He'd come to the conclusion that Beth was right. When he lived in his own world, he deteriorated. He needed to find his own cure, and he needed to find it a long way from his own home and family.

Meantime, the aurors tracked down a young man with black hair and glasses, who wore a long range location device. To their considerable annoyance, it was a dead end. His aunt had been killed in a car accident, and he had kept a nice looking watch.

***chapter end***