Page 37 of A Fire in Their Hearts

‘A Covenanter! I must speak with him.’

Calum rises to his feet as if to go after the man that very moment. He’s so impulsive at times, like Samuel.

‘No, leave him be,’ says Rory firmly. ‘Let him come to you if he wants. Thomas has only been here a few months and he’s a very troubled young man. I watch out for him where I can.’

‘How did he end up here?’

‘That’s a story for him to tell. Everyone here has their own story.’ He studies me closely. ‘You’re quiet, Douglas.’

‘I listen.’

‘Well, listen to this. Be careful not to draw attention to yourself in any way. Calum, watch out for Findlay.’

I peer at him, puzzled. ‘Why Findlay? What would he want with Calum?’

‘Just watch out. While you’re here, you’ll encounter cruelty, desires and activities such as you wouldn’t believe possible from another human being. Hunter and Findlay are amongst the worst. They were forced indentured servants once, before my time.’

‘Servants!’

‘Convicts, sold like thousands of others. Every so often the British government decides that emptying the jails in England by transporting the inmates is a good way of solving a problem and making money. Those two proved themselves to be so sadistic that Drummond released them to work for him. They’re fanatically loyal.

Even without orders, they’ll hurt people because it’s what they enjoy. ’

‘Lord save us,’ whispers Calum.

‘Yes, well there’s a question. Drummond will preach at us on a Sunday about forgiveness from that bloody pulpit of his, then have a man whipped an hour later because the fancy takes him. Yet there are owners who would leave a worse taste than him.’

‘Are there no good plantation owners?’

‘There are some you might consider decent, even caring in their own way for those who work the land. It’s mainly chance where anyone ends up.

The degree of misery of slaves and servants is largely determined by the character of the owner.

I don’t understand what we’ve done in our lives to be punished so severely, yet here we are under Drummond.

He’s as mad as a March hare, and it likely won’t take long before you’re hopping around in the same field. ’

*?*?*

There are four men’s huts. Alan and the other three have been allocated the second hut, while Calum and I get the first. Inside we find half a dozen beds that have been built with rough bits of timber.

There are a similar number of hammocks, all occupied.

The rest of the space is taken up with thin straw mattresses.

We can smell them from the doorway but after so long in the hold of the ship, all I care about is not sleeping on a hard surface.

We find two together with no one in them.

‘It’ll be better when we understand the routine of the plantation,’ whispers Calum.

I’ve been feeling increasingly ill all evening and am trying hard not to cry. ‘I guess so.’

‘And tomorrow’s Saturday, so we just have to get through that and on Sunday we can rest and get ourselves sorted, maybe get cleaned up and be given new clothes.’

I try to speak but it comes out as a huge sob. Calum reaches across and takes my hand. It’s gloomy enough for nobody to see, and who’s bothered anyway?

‘It will get better. We haven’t suffered everything for our lives to end here. God hasn’t forgotten us.’

Perhaps, but right now, in this dirty hut at the end of the world, it does feel as though we’ve been misplaced. I sniff. ‘Let’s get to sleep.’

He squeezes my hand then lets go, and I try to find a position that offers some comfort. Men are still coming into the hut and a figure lies on the mattress on the other side of me. There are some murmured conversations but mostly people are too weary for anything other than rest.

I want it so much, but as the minutes pass, I find sleep evades me.

My mind is like an overflowing river, too full for even the tiniest part to be still.

Images of the day push each other out of the way, demanding my attention – the extraordinary scenes at the harbour, the unfettered violence on the plantation, the insanity of Drummond.

I sense such a terrible danger from this man, and in the darkness I can’t shake off the notion that our lives will be bound together in some unnatural way.

And I wonder about Samuel, whether he’s alive. And if he is, how will I ever get back to him now?

There are a great many noises outside, with chirping, screeching and howling so strange to me that I can’t identify if they’re made by birds, beasts or demons. Something bites my leg and I kick out. I hear a rat scuttle away. That sound at least is familiar.

Next to me Calum snores quietly, something else I know well.

Somewhere a man weeps. This must be a person who has been here for a while as we’re the only new people in this hut.

There’s more than Thomas in this place who’s troubled beyond endurance.

I shift, trying to get more comfortable.

The mattress is alive with vermin. Eventually, I fall into a troubled sleep and dream of being eaten by cockroaches.