Going Home

Chapter 3: Lovely Ladies

It was surprising how discreet some of these brothels were. Caoimhe had trouble finding them, but it had been thanks to Grantaire and some of the other men that she had even been able to find them. Often, she spoke with prostitutes on the streets, so this would be a new experience for her. It had been much harder to get the attention and interest of working women than she had anticipated; often, they would tell her that they had mouths to feed and not enough time to chat with her about politics. At least the prostitutes would stop to chat; their job consisted of a lot of waiting and therefore, there was a lot of time.  Oftentimes, she returned to the Cafe Musain with her pamphlets due to the illiteracy amongst the working class.

Most of the men weren't exactly supportive of sending Caoimhe to brothels; it had been her own idea and her argument had some credibility. Marius, Combeferre, Courferyac, and L'Aigle had been deadset against it, pleading with Enjolras to stop her from going. Enjolras, also, had been against her going, especially to Le Fourcy, one of the most notoriously vile brothels. He had tried to convince her to perhaps go to a higher-class establishment if she insisted on going alone and tried to at least get her to bring Feuilly or Bahorel along with her. Of course, she reasoned with him that the women might be more receptive if she came independently. In the end, he had agreed to let her go alone but for no more than two hours. Any later and one or more of Les Amis would search for her. 

Le Fourcy was quite a walk from Saint-Michel; in her dress and cloak, it took her about half an hour. The biting cold air didn't help matters much. She did her best to keep her mouth covered to avoid the diseases lurking about and to avoid the horrible stench of Paris. Thanks to this experience, she resolved to be more grateful for the air of Boston; it was almost clean compared to the putrid air of 19th century Paris. It took some time before she found the right building, but when she found it, she was surprised at the plainness of it as well as the lack of customers. She stopped in front of the door, wondering if she should knock or walk right in.

"What do you want?"

Caoimhe whipped around to see the source of the hoarse voice. Before her was a girl shorter than herself and dressed neatly but wearing gaudy make-up. Her blonde hair was pinned up, but curls hung loosely from the top. The make-up made her look older, but Caoimhe wondered if she was even seventeen. The girl continued to glower at her.

"Is this Le Fourcy?"

"Why are you looking for it? It's a brothel and not meant for the likes of you," her eyes studied Caoimhe closely as if sizing her up. In return, Caoimhe tried offering her a polite smile.

"I wanted to talk to the girls about the current state of France...."

"None of us is interested. Now get out of here unless you want to be put into a state of sin yourself."

"But this concerns all French..."

"Let me guess. You're here to spur the poor and downtrodden to action. Let me ask you this. Who pities a whore?"

"Mademoiselle, it's not your fault..."

"Is it? I made the choice to sell my body and no one has pity for that. Nothing will change. Don't waste your breath. I would leave if I were you, before it gets dark."

"Please, if I can just get inside and talk to..."

"Marguerite, who is your lovely friend?" came a crackly voice. Caoimhe followed Marguerite's gaze to an older woman who was dressed in finery but wore a large sum of make-up. It looked cakey. Caoimhe noted that the woman had applied way too much powder and eyeliner which gave her a rather stunned but puffy appearance. The powder was much too pale for her complexion; she could see the pink skin peeking out from beneath some wiped away powder. The girl she had been speaking to, Marguerite, stepped up to the woman.