Page 51 of A Fire in Their Hearts

‘Damn their bloody fear! I’ve no time for it.’ I storm outside, where most of the slaves stand around. ‘You and you, come with me. NOW!’ I’m screaming and the two men I’ve picked suddenly seem more frightened of me than the sickness. They follow me inside.

‘Carry him to the hut and then come back for this man.’ I watch as they reluctantly pick up Alan and carry him away. ‘Shoshana, get the women together with the men.’

I step outside. Rory is with the men now, and they go quiet as I approach. I wait until the women have joined us. A short distance away, two slaves carry the second man from the barn to the hut. I speak loudly and with authority.

‘The master has put me in charge of all matters to do with your health. Firstly, we’ll have full access to the food stores so that we can all eat better meals.

Shoshana, I want you to speak to every woman and child and see if any are feeling unwell.

Those that are, need to go into the barn.

If people are feeling sick, then they won’t be made worse by going into the barn.

Rory, I want you to do the same to the men. ’

Dozens of faces stare at me in silence.

‘Violet, the food hut is locked,’ says Rory. ‘No one will believe that they won’t be punished if we take food without hearing Master Drummond himself give permission.’

It’s as if a madness consumes me, and I crave it, beg for it, because the madness is the only thing that’s keeping me sane.

I spin around and march to McKinnon’s accommodation.

I’ve never been inside before and hoped I would never have to.

I push open the door with such force that it slams against the wall and the smell hits me the moment I step inside.

The contents of the overseer’s stomach form a trail to his bed, where he lies, groaning and shivering.

He almost looks scared at seeing me burst into the room.

‘The master has ordered me to take care of those who are sick and to do that properly, I need access to the storeroom. Where’s the key?’

He appears puzzled, as if the question is beyond him, so I go up close and look upon him with such venom that he shrinks back against the wall. ‘Where. Is. The. Key?’

He points to a peg nearby. I grab the key and walk out, leaving the door open, then head straight to the stores hut, shouting over to the slaves who don’t appear to have moved.

‘Rory! Bring four men and start taking whatever food is needed. Take plenty to the women. Take anything else you consider useful.’

The long narrow hut is like a small wooden fortress, sitting on stout legs coated in tar to deter ants and shaded by four tamarind trees positioned so that the building is never in sunlight.

Once I’ve unlocked the heavy door, I enter a forbidden world of food.

Everything is clearly identified and it’s immediately obvious that much of it has been imported.

Sacks of bread flour from England sit below shelves with stone jars holding a variety of oils, while glass jars display an array of pickled or dried items. Huge cheeses wrapped in fine linen sway gently upon wires hanging from the ceiling and nearby there are boxes of fine biscuits and other dainties.

The entire hut smells of spices and herbs and there are several bags of them, plus larger bags of salt.

I come to several intricately inlaid rosewood containers that are marked with the names of different varieties of tea.

Next to them is another with the word ‘coffee’ on the lid.

There doesn’t appear to be meat of any sort and the only alcohol is a barrel of brandy and one of red wine which I assume Talitha uses in certain dishes.

There are baskets of recently picked hen and duck eggs and on the floor nearby is a metal container.

I lift the lid to reveal what must be this morning’s milk as it smells so fresh.

When I spot a huge sack marked ‘Oats from Scotland’ I have to open it and hold some of this familiar food from home in my hand. I’m rubbing flakes between my fingers when I hear my name called. Rory is standing outside. I put back the oats and I go to him. He’s alone.

‘Nobody will come. They’re too afraid and there’s nothing you can say that will overcome years of terror, of being beaten and whipped upon the whim of a master.’

‘I’m trying to help them.’

‘I know, but sometimes help can’t be accepted no matter how much a person wants to give it. Don’t be angry with them, Violet. They’re frightened enough as it is. Come on, let’s lock up. I’ll take the key back to McKinnon, then together we’ll do what we can.’

*?*?*

I’ve never seen anything like it. Alan has turned yellow.

I mop his brow to try and reduce his fever but he’s delirious, shouting words that make no sense, then groaning as if in terrible pain.

Rory comes into the hut, kneels beside me and stares down at his friend for several minutes before speaking.

‘I’ve known this before. Every few years this disease, or whatever it is, sweeps through the island.’

‘Do people die?’ I ask, sensing Alan too far gone to understand what I’m saying.

‘Not long after I arrived in Barbados, this sickness took away many of those I had travelled with on the ship .?.?. including my wife.’

I’m so shocked at this revelation, at my utter ignorance in never once assuming he had been married, at my arrogance in never having asked.

‘Rory, I’m so sorry. I never knew.’

‘I never told you.’

‘But I didn’t ask, and that’s unforgivable.’

He places a hand on my shoulder. ‘Violet, I’ve seen so many die here.’

News reached us a little earlier that several plantations are affected.

The apothecary that Hunter went to fetch was already dead when he got there.

Theories about the sickness and what causes it are so numerous they could fill a book .

.?. it’s the position of the planets in the sky, it’s brought by the wind or on a visiting ship, even the hogs have been blamed.

My father used to say that if there was a sudden outbreak of illness, the first thing to check is the water people drink.

The water here is generally foul in appearance but I walked around with Rory, examining the pools and other sources, and there was nothing obvious like a dead animal.

In truth, the water never seems to result in illness despite my misgivings about its quality.

I look around the hut. There are five male servants, two male slaves, a woman and a child.

I feel that they’re at different stages of the illness rather than that some have caught whatever it is more severely than others, but I could be completely wrong.

My attention is suddenly drawn by a figure at the open door, beckoning me outside.

‘Master says you must come.’

‘Why, Tamar, what’s wrong?’

‘He’s sick, Violet, and wants you to care for him.’

*?*?*

Drummond lies on top of his bed. I’ve known such despair lying exactly where he is now. He looks up at me. I stare at him for a long while with neither of us speaking.

‘Well, Violet, this time it’s me here and you standing there. But I’m still the master and you’ll remain in the house with Tamar and take care of me.’

His breathing is laboured and his skin appears unnaturally pale. I overcome my revulsion and place a hand on his forehead. It’s clammy and he almost flinches at the touch.

‘Your head?’

‘It’s bad, and pains around my back. Get me some brandy.’

I go to the bureau where he’s stood so often, drinking his expensive imported spirits from a cut-crystal glass having just finished raping me as if he’s done no more than get up from the table after dinner. I have to help lift his head for him to drink. Then he lies back, gasping and watching.

‘You’d like me dead.’

‘I think you would be no loss to the world.’

He makes a sound that could almost be a laugh. ‘Will you kill me, Violet? Kill the monster who’s made your life a misery?’

‘There would be no tears from me if you died, but it won’t be by my hand. Whatever happens will be God’s will.’

‘Ha .?.?. decent, Christian, Scottish woman.’

‘Lucky for you that I am.’

I feel such loathing for this man and being forced to take care of him is vile beyond description. When he eventually speaks again, his voice is so different that the sound itself is a surprise, but what he says shocks me.

‘I’m sorry .?.?. truly .?.?. about Duncan. I should have brought you both into the house .?.?. kept him safer.’

I didn’t expect this, didn’t see this coming.

Didn’t even know he knew his name. When the tears come, I can’t stop, no matter how hard I try and in the end my legs give way so suddenly beneath me that I flop on to the edge of the bed.

I’m too close to him, but don’t have the strength to move.

Then I feel a hand on my arm .?.?. clumsy, patting, a grotesque attempt at comfort. Yet, his attempt all the same.

‘I would have looked after him, made sure nobody hurt him.’

Why can’t I stop crying? I’m so weak. Neither of us speaks for a long while.

‘I’ve always wanted a son. I would have brought him up to run the plantation. My wife couldn’t give me children.’

It’s the news that he was married, and might still be, that strangely lets me gain control of myself. ‘Did she die?’

‘No, she couldn’t cope with Barbados .?.?. the heat and rain, the insects and rats .?.?. the way everything rots .?.?. furniture, materials, paintings of Scottish ancestors and the gilt frames they’re held in .?.?. people. Everything rots here, Violet, especially people.’

He suddenly moans and I see he’s about to vomit so I grab a nearby bowl and help him sit up. When he’s finished I lay him back down. The effort appears to have drained him.

‘My head .?.?. my head. I need more brandy.’

‘My father didn’t believe in patients having large amounts of alcohol unless he was going to perform surgery. I’m going to see Tamar. Rest here. I’ll return soon.’

‘Don’t go,’ he says, almost begging.

But I do.

*?*?*