Chapter Text
Looking back, Belle was hard pressed to understand why she had not turned heel and high tailed it out of Mr Gold’s imposing office in a glorious blaze of righteous indignation. Yet she had remained seated in the expensively upholstered uncomfortable chair that was torture to stay on for long. He was, after all, the petty kind of man who would delight in making his victims as uncomfortable as humanly possible.
Really, she didn’t know who she was more disappointed in, herself for debasing herself infront of Gold or her stupid, inconsiderate, lazy, good for nothing, coward of a father.
Well, that answered that one then.
Moe French was a gambler. It wasn’t his fault really she supposed, he had always been like that. Forever chasing impossible riches by turning over just one more card. This time he had landed them both in deep, deep, deep. Trouble. She had started capitalizing this Trouble in her head since she had heard about the whole business from her drunken, sobbing, terrified, idiot of a progenitor.
Belle was a dreamer in her own way too, not for riches or fame or even love. She dreamt of freedom. She wanted the freedom to live quietly in a sweet little house without the worry of being kicked out by an angry landlord. She craved the security of having enough money to pay for groceries every week and to be able to actually cook them without having the electricity cut off halfway through a carefully planned baking session. Really, her ambitions weren’t lofty by any means. She was nearly 21 years old, still living with her forgetful, selfish, hopeless, liar of a Papa.
The last time she had scraped and saved her way into nearly enough money to leave home and start her own way in the world was five years ago, when her father had forged her signature to “invest” in a horse that simply could not lose! She had been utterly shocked when she checked her balance to find that he had gambled away her security for a house. Of course she had forgiven him, he had said that he was sorry and that he’d change, that he’d get help. He hadn’t.
Belle worked long, dull hours in a supermarket, stacking shelves and cheerfully pointing customers in the right direction for the billionth time to the same brand of frozen puff pastry that nobody could ever seem to find. She did not buy pretty dresses with her earnings, she did not spend the weekend partying around the town, she did not go out for meals with her few friends and she certainly did not date handsome young men. She worked, she slept and she took care of Moe French, because really- he was all she had.
She hadn’t met the town’s notorious villain before going to his office and asking his harassed secretary for an appointment to see her boss. She was surprised when, on giving her name, the woman had said ‘Oh yes! Miss French, Mr Gold said you’d probably drop by- I’ll just see if he’s free.” She left the ante-room, knocking lightly on the dark wooden door separating her room from her employers. Belle was left feeling utterly bewildered that the man to whom they owed a large, undisclosed amount of money to was expecting a visit from a girl he’d never laid eyes on before. She had heard that the man had an uncanny omniscience but really, that was just creepy.
The secretary half smiled at her as she waved Belle through the door, ‘Mr Gold will see you straight away Miss French.’ she dropped her voice to a whisper as Belle walked past her ‘you're in luck, I think he’s in a good mood.’
Belle, feeling slightly guilty that the reason for her visit would rather blow that good mood to smithereens, thanked her.
She walked across the large expanse of empty carpet towards Mr Gold’s desk. The blinds were partially closed, blocking out the bright summer sun and a window was obviously open because the breeze drifted through, making the shadows dance across the surprisingly diminutive figure behind the desk.
Mr Gold was sat back in his big leather chair, his hands steepled under his chin. Large grey eyes regarded her with keen interest. Belle had the impression that his entire attention was focused upon her approach to the desk and wished that she had chosen to wear her other pair of jeans, they may have had fewer holes in them. She felt very uncomfortable and embarrassed for the reason for her visit.
The man, who was perhaps about forty, gestured elegantly towards the chair opposite his desk, his eyes did not leave her face as she nervously sat down, clutching her rather shabby handbag on her lap, as if it would somehow give her the courage she lacked.
‘Miss French. How may I be of assistance?’ His voice was accented with a smooth scottish brogue, his tone was moderate and his words polite. Why then did she feel a frisson of fear race down her spine?
Belle swallowed. ‘Thank you for seeing me Mr Gold. I have come on behalf of my father, sir. He is...’ drowning his sorrows in a bottle ‘...unable to come himself I’m afraid. I would like, if I may, to discuss the debt that is owed to you. It’s necessary for me to pay it off instead, he can’t.’ She darted her tongue out to wet her dry lips, she hadn’t had time to grab a drink after her shift ended. ‘I’m sorry, my father didn’t tell me the exact terms- but I have some money I’ve been saving and I can take extra hours at the store- I will do everything I can to settle this Sir.’ She spoke the last bit too quickly really, she thought, her cheeks burning.
Mr Gold wordlessly pushed an open file towards her, with the details of how much Moe French had borrowed from him, the expected rate of return and her Father's signature at the bottom and...oh for pity's sake! he’d done it again, added his daughters name next to his to act as a guarantor. Belle felt something die inside her at that moment, she resolved to herself that this was it. No more. She couldn’t show loyalty to a man who forged her signature on contracts for insane amounts of money that Belle simply did not have. She would not snitch on him though, not this time, she would try to sort this mess out for him and then cut him off. Never again.
‘Mr Gold. Sir. I don’t have this amount of money right now, but I will do my very best to...’ He cut her off with another sweep of his hand.
‘Miss French. Spare me. Believe me when I say I have heard it all before. Lets keep this as civilized as possible shall we? You, in two concise sentences will please tell me firstly when I am going to get what is owed to me and secondly, if the first answer is unsatisfactory...what you are going to do to get it to me quicker.’
Belle flushed. Mr Gold had a thoroughly nasty way about him lurking underneath the polite words. She briefly considered fleeing and leaving Moe to sort out his own mess but she was not a coward, so she didn’t.
Instead she raised her head, looked him in the eye and quietly said ‘I don’t know, Sir. Everything and anything I possibly can.’
Mr Gold smiled. A gleam in his eye, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the polished surface of his desk, ‘anything my dear? Well then. It seems we have a starting place from which to bargain.’
‘I can take extra hours at the...’
He cut her off again ‘at the store, yes you’ve already mentioned that idea dearie. I think we both know I’d have to take half your wages for the next thirty years for you to repay this. Unfortunately, patience isn’t something I possess in abundance.’
He tapped a long, unusually white finger on his thin lips as though he was musing. ‘Ah. I have it. You will need a different vocation. I happen to have a position just suited to you. A year, Miss French. One Calendar year and I will write the debt off.’
‘Wh- what? what kind of position?’
He tilted his head to one side, regarding her. ‘Companion,’ he said after a slight pause. ‘Yes. Companion might be the best way to put it.’
Belle’s eyes widened, her fear still dancing up and down her vertebrae. ‘M-Mr Gold?’ She wasn’t stupid, she understood what he was inferring- but was so stunned by the idea that his words failed to register.
His eyebrows slammed downwards momentarily and the young thing opposite him shrank further back into her chair. ‘I see you are going to make me spell this out for you dearie, which is a shame as I have already told you that my patience is limited.’
Belle sat there, frozen aside from the nervous chewing of her bottom lip. Mr Gold reached forwards, another sheet of paper in his hands. Another contract. ‘Read this dearie.’ He watched her take the contract with trembling fingers. ‘The way I see it Miss French, is that your position is precarious. You do not have my money, you are not able to get my money, your father is also being typically unhelpful. In your lovely hands is a contract which will provide me with 365 days of your fair company. You will live with me, eat with me and sleep with me. In exchange, I will expunge your debt and if, by the end of the year you have kept to the letter of our agreement I will also provide you with a flat to compensate for your loss of earnings at the store.’
He spoke calmly, smoothly and without a hint of embarrassment; as though he propositioned desperate clients on a regular basis. Perhaps he did, the contract was already drawn up after all.
‘Will you sign, Miss French?’ His voice had dropped to a hissing, sibilant whisper- she sensed an urgency in his tone, but a fleeting glance up to his face revealed a countenance that was impassive, as though her answer made no difference to him whatsoever. A vague sense of deja vu hit her and she blinked to clear her head.
Belles brow was furrowed. The stress of the last two days left her suddenly drained. She had not slept well since finding Moe a sobbing, heaving, drunken wreck slumped over the kitchen counter. He had wailed that he had failed, that the cops were going to come and lock them up- if they were lucky, if they were unlucky then Mr Gold would get to them first.
She did not want to go to jail, she also didn’t want to end up dead with her remains dumped in the forest, which is what her dear old dad seemed to think was Mr Gold’s routine way of dealing with the few fools who broke a deal.
One year. Well, it wasn’t forever after all. She reached down, picked up the heavy gold pen that Mr Gold had rolled over to her and signed.