Page 49 of A Fire in Their Hearts

Do your duty, Mister McKinnon. Do your Christian duty. He kicks away the bench. I’m screaming as I fall.

I WAKE, SWEATING AND PANTING. I’VE been calling out, again.

Someone on the floor near my bed reaches up and strokes my arm.

I’m not sure who it is but I take her hand and we hold each other for a few moments before letting go.

The baby kicks hard as if resentful at also waking up. I place a hand on my bulging stomach.

Once more despair washes over me at the fact that for all the years Samuel and I were together I was never with his child, yet in such a short time with Drummond and in such repulsive circumstances .

.?. What evil grows inside me? A child from such a monster, conceived during a rape, cannot be anything but hideous.

I feel as though the Devil has entered my body and I’m possessed.

Oh, Samuel, my love. What am I going to do?

They broke me the morning Joseph was murdered. That had been Drummond’s intention, not to kill me at all. What everyone could see except me was that when I was standing on the bench with a noose around my neck, Findlay untied the other end and held it, simply letting go when I fell.

I don’t remember hitting the ground or anything from the days that immediately followed.

Apparently, I was in a state of delirium, going so wild at times in the hut that it took four women to hold me down.

Eventually, they tied me to the bed for my own safety and Tamar came to care for me while the others were in the fields or working elsewhere.

When I finally came out of the darkness – no, I’ve never fully come out of it.

There is always a shadow across my soul.

I didn’t recognise the person I had become.

There was nothing left of the Violet who had fought so fiercely beside the man she loved so passionately.

Even on the outside, I changed. My hair fell out in such quantity that in the end I shaved my head.

When it grew back my hair was almost white.

Shoshana said my eyes were different. When I asked her in what way she said they belonged to a dead person.

A few of the women became a little frightened of me.

And there’s something else .?.?. resentment.

That’s not a strong enough word. No one has said anything, but the reality is that Joseph could probably have escaped successfully if he had gone by himself.

I know it and so does everyone else. His death is partly my fault.

I think Rory also feels guilt at involving Joseph in our attempt, although he has never spoken of it.

Of my darling Calum, I’ve heard nothing.

I don’t know if he was killed that day, captured and sent to another plantation or if he evaded his pursuers altogether.

Despite enquiring of everyone I could possibly ask, there’s never been any news and even Rory with all of his connections has not been able to find anything out.

Since returning to work in the fields I’ve gone every evening by myself to the big house and asked Drummond if he wants me.

Often he doesn’t, normally because he’s too drunk or, ironically, because he no longer has the same desire for me .

.?. for what I’ve become. If he does, I simply do whatever he says.

I don’t speak. I don’t resist. I don’t cry afterwards back in the hut.

Four months ago he told me not to come back; he found my belly too repulsive.

Now I’m filled with a terrible dread at this impending birth, which can’t be many weeks away.

I hate this unnatural creature inside me.

I loathe it. The thing kicks hard, as if knowing my thoughts.

It hates me. I sigh. I need to get up and relieve myself. That’s the third time tonight.

*?*?*

I’m screaming. The women try to reassure me that it will soon be over but I know something is terribly wrong.

Nothing natural should hurt like this. I’m being punished for bringing evil into the world.

Why do these things always happen at night?

The bed I’m in has been pulled away from the wall so that there’s easy access to both sides.

The children have been taken to the far end of the hut.

Shoshana mops my brow with a cloth dipped in cold water. Naomi is down between my legs. She keeps speaking and I can’t understand a word she’s saying.

‘You’re doing fine,’ says Shoshana. ‘Naomi says it’s normal.’

‘This is not normal! I’ve got a monster inside me and God is angry that I’m bringing it into His world. He’s not letting it come out. I’ll die.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ she says.

‘I hate this thing.’

‘I don’t believe that either.’

It’s difficult to speak and almost impossible to breathe. Someone has plunged a hot knife into my back and my body feels as though it’s being ripped. When I’m not screaming, I’m crying. Naomi mutters something and I’m vaguely aware of heads nodding.

Then I’m screaming more than ever and it burns as the pressure bears down between my legs and all I am now is pain.

How many hours has it been? How many days?

And with a sudden pop, like a bubble bursting, there’s something between my legs and I’m wet.

The monster has escaped and it’s hideous. I don’t want to see.

‘Put out the lights!’

There’s crying. Not mine. The women are busy. I don’t want to see.

‘Take it away!’

‘You have a son,’ says Shoshana.

Naomi brings me the tiny devil, wrapped in a large cloth, and lays it in my arms. He looks up at me with such startling blue eyes, as surprised to see me as I am to see him.

He moves a tiny hand towards my chin. When I stroke it he holds my finger and won’t let go.

There’s nothing about him that resembles me or Drummond.

He’s perfect.

God help me now, for I love him with all my heart. I clutch the baby to my breast and I will never let go, never give up for him. Ever.