rushing past her sobbing, and then suddenly, she was before her, pointing a pistol at July’s head.
‘What good is this to me?’ she said. July swiftly ducked as the missus, swinging the weapon about her, shouted, ‘My brother has abandoned me! I am forgot. And I do not even know how to fire this piece,’ before dropping the gun to the floor.
July, taking a step closer to her, had intended to once more reassure her missus that she would be safe and among other white people upon the ship in the bay. But before her breath was gathered for this assertion, her missus shouted, ‘And how do I know you are not lying to me and wish me from this house so you may steal everything we have. Who told you of this ship? Who came?’
As July uttered the words, ‘Mr Nimrod,’ her missus stopped dead as if suddenly stiffened by salt.
‘Nimrod is here?’ she said with a gentle frown.
Thinking the missus now calmed at the thought of Nimrod being near, July nodded. But her missus, almost quietly, began, ‘He made start on my garden, Marguerite. Took all the money for the work, of course, yet I have not seen him now for weeks. All manner of weeds are growing upon that ground now. My brother says Nimrod must have more pressing work than my garden of vines. But I had paid Nimrod to complete it and now my brother won’t hear a word from me upon the subject. Is Nimrod come to finish my garden?’
‘No, missus,’ July said, ‘him never mention your garden.’
The fierce sigh the missus let forth blew out two more candles. ‘I am forgot,’ she wailed, ‘I am forgot and left with only negroes.’
Caroline Mortimer bounced upon her toes, muttering over and over to herself, ‘Oh, I am forgot! Must I go? Should I go,’ as she waited with her packed belongings by the door for Godfrey to bring the carriage. ‘Where is Godfrey?’ she asked July, then yelled, ‘Come on, Godfrey, let us be gone.’
Godfrey, slowly ascending the steps at the side of the house, was carrying a lamp which he set down so he might have both hands free to scratch the back of his head.
‘Hurry along, Godfrey. Pick up these things,’ Caroline said. Godfrey stared at the sack, the small trunk and the cloth valise that stood between him and the missus. His missus, with an exasperated sigh, indicated again at the items she wished Godfrey to transport.
But Godfrey, still scratching upon his head said, ‘You wan’ me put these on the cart and take you into town?’
‘Of course, into the gig. And I am in a hurry to be gone.’
‘So you wan’ me lift them into the gig and then drive you to town?’
‘Godfrey, do not play the fool with me. You know I must go to town for my own safety until all this trouble is past. Now, let us be gone.’
And Godfrey, looking down on the missus, sucked loudly upon his teeth before saying, ‘Then you must pay me, missus.’
July cupped her hands over her mouth so her gasp and giggle would not escape. While all Caroline managed to utter was, ‘What did you say?’
‘Me said,’ Godfrey began, ‘that me will need payment if me is to take you into town.’
‘Payment?’ the missus repeated. She frowned upon Godfrey, then looked quizzically to July for some explanation of his behaviour. But July was silent—her mouth fixed with a grimace of a child in the thrill of a game.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Godfrey,’ Caroline said, ‘Now, pick up the things or I will see you punished for this.’
Godfrey sighed. He then walked past the missus into the hall and sat himself down upon one of the massa’s wooden chairs. ‘Then punish me, missus,’ he said as he lifted first one leg, and then the other, over the arms of the planter’s seat and sat as if waiting for someone to remove his boots.
Caroline Mortimer stamped her foot hard upon the ground. ‘When my brother hears of this, you will be whipped in the yard.’ Godfrey picked at one of his fingernails. ‘I will tell him to spare you nothing. The cat-o’-nine. I will say, use the cat-o’-nine-tails. He’ll whip you like a nigger. You’ll see.’
Godfrey leisurely rested his head upon the chair back. He took a deep breath and spoke to the ceiling saying, ‘Missus, if them fighting for free niggers find me ’pon the road with you, then me throat will be