Island Songs (24 page)

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Authors: Alex Wheatle

BOOK: Island Songs
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Almyna discreetly glanced at the ring on Cilbert’s wedding finger. “Me married two years ago,” she revealed, eager to announce her status. “To ah Misser Hubert Golding. Yuh hear about de Golding family inna Jamaica? They’re very important. We get invited to dinners at de governor’s mansion. Yuh mus’ ’ave heard of de Goldings?”

Cilbert paused on the question, placing an index finger and thumb upon his chin, but he didn’t have a clue who the Goldings were. “Nuh, Almyna. But de name ring ah bell.”

“So it should,” pressed Almyna. “Dem ah business family, involved wid banking, insurance an’ real estate. Dey ’ave ah beautiful mansion near Port Antonio over-looking de ocean. Hubert is over der. See how him handsome!”

Almyna pointed to the tables where the first-class passengers dined. Hubert, tall and impressive in a dark suit, was of a lighter complexion than Almyna. Cilbert guessed he was a mulatto – mixed-race. Hubert’s hair had also been straightened and his thinly-trimmed moustache gave him the appearance of a young Duke Ellington.

 

“Me really glad fe yuh, Almyna,” said Cilbert, checking behind him again. Hortense had finally spotted him and made it clear with a sour glare that she wouldn’t tolerate her husband socialising with one of his ex-girlfriends – especially Almyna.

“Is dat ya wife?” smiled Almyna, who knew the answer to her own question; she had made her own enquiries on return trips to Orange valley.

Cilbert nodded. Almyna rolled her eyes. “So yuh married Hortense! She very dark isn’t she? Very dark. Me cyan’t see not’ing but her teet’! Me never really notice it when me first see her. All me notice was how much rum punch she ah drink. Yes, Hortense was de licky licky one who made ah spectacle of herself when she start dance.
Nah
de right way fe ah lady to behave. She still ah slave to
fire-water? Some people say dat addiction to fire-water cyan cause de skin to wrinkle quick time an’ will mosh up ya liver. An’ if she has, ya kidren will be born wid damage. She might produce cripples. But me suppose some mon ’ave dem strange fancy.”

Biting his top lip, Cilbert refused to respond to Almyna’s offensive remarks. “Well, Almyna, it really fine to see yuh again but me affe go now – Hortense an’ me in-laws are waiting fe me.”

“Go so soon? Dat nah polite, Cilbert. We born an’ grow inna de same place an’ dis is de first time we sight each udder fe years an’ all yuh cyan do is run to ya
dark
wife? Ya ’fraid of her?”

“Nuh, nuh. It nah dat. It’s jus’ dat me affe look some bread, drink an’ t’ing fe dem.”

“Den if dat is de situation she will nah mind if we link up some time ’pon de journey. Mebbe ah drink togeder fe old time sake? After all, we
are
family.” Almyna preened herself then offered a wicked grin.

By the time Almyna had constructed her next pose, Cilbert was gone, anxiety spreading across his face as he asked for more bread and tomato-flavoured mince. He would never reveal to Hortense or to anybody else that Almyna and himself were second cousins. Almyna waited for her bottle of wine, glanced at her husband who was entertaining friends and for an instant a flash of sadness revealed itself in her eyes. Then, with bottle in hand and head held high, Almyna returned to her table in a sexy strut she had long ago perfected. Knowing that Cilbert was watching her, she theatrically sat upon Hubert’s lap and drained the contents of his glass. Looking on, Cilbert said to himself. “Dat girl is many t’ings but Lord me God, she know how fe
walk
an’ mek any mon tek notice.”

Returning to his own table, Cilbert could feel the jealousy steaming off Hortense’s eyes. He tried to smile away his discomfort. Jacob, ignoring the sudden tension, accepted the bread and sliced it for Jenny. “Two slice yuh waan, me sweetheart?”

Jenny didn’t hear her husband and instead placed a comforting hand on Hortense’s wrist as she glared at Cilbert. Hortense’s lips stiffened, her eyes staring at her meal.

“Wha’ did yuh expect me to do?” asked Cilbert, spreading his arms.
“Ignore her? Me know Almyna all me life! Me never expect her to be ’pon dis ship. Anyway, she married now so
don’t
t’ink dat me up to nuh good.”

Twirling spaghetti around her fork, Hortense’s eyes didn’t leave her plate. It looked as if she might use the fork on Cilbert.

“More wine, Hortense?” Jacob offered, trying to diffuse the situation.

Hortense ignored Jacob. “Cilbert, sit down! If yuh know wha’ is good fe yuh,
stay
away from dat red skin, brute of ah bitch! Look how she dress like dem blue-foot gal who stan’ outside Devon House looking to sell dem tricks. An’ her lipstick look like somebody sacrifice ah chicken over her mout’! Me don’t know how her head cyan tek de strain of all de grease inna her hair. Yuh coulda wring out her hair an’ tek de oil an’ mek truck drive. An’ she wear so much mek-up me surprise her cheeks don’t bawl fe mercy. She look like ah Jamaican version of Coco de Clown.”

Jacob almost choked on his bread as he restrained a belly laugh. Jenny caught a fit of the giggles as Cilbert didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Feeling better, Hortense accepted more wine.

The remainder of the meal was consumed in silence with Cilbert not daring to return Almyna’s flirtatious glances. As Hortense downed the last of her wine; she had drank four glasses, she turned to a nervous Cilbert and demanded, “me waan talk to yuh in private, inna de cabin.” She addressed Jenny. “Cyan yuh give me some time wid me husband? T’ings need to discuss.”

“Of course,” Jenny replied. “Jacob an’ meself will mingle wid our fellow passengers. It’ll be good fe dem to know der is ah minister ’pon board, ah mon of good standing.”

Wiping her mouth with a serviette, Hortense stood up and departed the dining hall. She shot a wounding glance in Almyna’s direction. An anxious Cilbert followed his wife, careful not to get too close to her.

Upon reaching the cabin, Hortense locked it from the inside once Cilbert had entered. “Yuh still find her tickling ya fancy?” asked Hortense, her eyes now insecure, her expression fragile.

“Of course not,” lied Cilbert, trying to master his nerves.

For a moment, Hortense thought of her brother David and how he promised that he would always return to her. She recalled the strength of David’s gaze and the conviction in it. She searched Cilbert’s eyes for confirmation that he would never leave her. Satisfied, she walked slowly into Cilbert’s embrace and they kissed and caressed each other’s faces hungrily. Clothes were quickly discarded and scattered upon the floor. There was an urgency and ferocity in Hortense’s love-making that Cilbert never experienced before as Hortense pressed her face against his, wanting to be utterly consumed into his body. He felt it was almost spiritual, a meeting of kindred souls.

The next morning, Cilbert accompanied his wife for a walk upon the passenger deck; a girly smile was fixed upon Hortense’s face. Together they peered into the horizon, wondering what fate had in store for them. Jacob and Jenny strolled behind them, both concealing their anxiety at the absence of land. Jacob was careful to avoid straying too close to the railings. They all greeted fellow passengers warmly and paused for short conversations that were mainly about the need for Jamaican chefs and the body odour of Italian waiters. “Dem smell bad,” said Jenny to a young Jamaican couple. “An’ it seem dat der mudders forget to teach dem how to scrub dem fingernail!”

It was Cilbert who spotted Almyna walking towards him in her unique style, arm-in-arm with Hubert.

“Good marnin, Cilby,” Almyna greeted, over-smiling. “It’s good to tek in de sea breezes isn’t it? May me introduce yuh to me husband, Hubert.”

Hubert took off his felt hat and held it poised over his head in a formal gesture. “Good morning, Cilbert and Hortense I believe.” He replaced his hat as Hortense inwardly seethed that Almyna must have spoken about her. “Isn’t this a coincidence? For two people to grow up together now finding themselves upon the same ship years after they had lost touch.”

“Yes it is,” returned Cilbert, almost having to check himself from bowing. “May me tek dis opportunity to bless ya voyage.”

“Thank you, Cilbert,” smiled Hubert, recognising the
exaggerated manners of someone from Jamaican peasant stock addressing an aristocrat.

Jacob and Jenny offered their greetings, Jenny somewhat reluctantly. She couldn’t conceal her animosity towards Almyna and thought the excessive display of politeness was pathetic.

“Yes, Hubert,” started Almyna. “Hortense an’ Jenny hail from de Claremont valley inna St Anne, nah far from where me an’ Cilby born an’ grow.”

“A beautiful
and
bountiful part of Jamaica, by all accounts,” said Hubert. “The Eden of the Caribbean.”

“An’
poor
too,” added Almyna. “Hortense an’ Jenny are de daughters of ah mon who dey call Moonshine. Mysterious an’ dark Moonshine is, an’, me nuh waan to mek nuh offence, but people say him ’ave pagan ways an’ underworld customs. Moonshine don’t walk de ways of de Lord an’ him never go ah church. His name spread far an’ wide an’ him come from de seed of wild Maroons. He sings in strange tongues. Some say he’s in league wid de devil.” Almyna concluded her sentence with a dismissive glance at Hortense.

Hortense’s grip upon Cilbert’s left hand tightened considerably and Hubert, embarrassed by his wife’s unkind words, tried to smile away the obvious tension. “This voyage has been pleasant so far, but no doubt we will encounter more troubled waters and—”

Suddenly, a fist detonated against Almyna’s left jaw, wiping her self-satisfied grin off her face and knocking her off her feet. Her back thudded against the deck and as she rolled over, she caught a strong whiff of salt. Jenny, her rage not satisfied, leapt upon Almyna like a tigress seizing its prey. Before anyone could respond, she viced Almyna’s throat with her long fingers, squeezing to the absolute limit that her strength allowed. Pure hatred was within her eyes. “
Yuh ever say anyt’ing about me papa again an’ as Massa God is me witness me will kill yuh. An’ ya fate will be worse dan dat if yuh come near to me sister husband once more
. STAY
away from Cilbert
!” Almyna gasped and choked, her head rocking violently from side to side.

Jacob and Hubert dashed to pull Jenny off Almyna. Hubert was
mindful of the threats made by someone of a Coromanty bloodline and decided against retaliation; raised in a home kept by servants and maids, Hubert had heard in bedtime stories about the ‘blood-lust’ and ‘savagery’ of the Maroons. Hortense and Cilbert looked on astonished, their mouths agape.

“Mad like dem fader!” screamed Almyna. “Jezebel pagans! Dem sister are disciples of Old Screwface!”

Ashamed of his wife’s petulance and shocked at Jenny’s brutality, Hubert hauled Almyna away, trying to comfort her. “Hubert! Do somet’ing about dem! Why yuh nah fight fe me? She like ah mad bull!
Pagans
!”

Rubbing the knuckles of her right fist, Jenny glanced regretfully at Hortense and marched off, tears were filling her eyes. Jacob went after her but Hortense restrained him. “Let me see to her, Jacob. Somet’ing else dan dat red skin bitch Almyna ah trouble her. Me know she anxious to mek dis trip. Nah worry yaself. She’ll be alright.”

Hortense found Jenny in their cabin. She was sitting on a bunk bent over, her head almost touching her knees and she was holding her face within her palms, stifling her weeping. Hortense sat beside her and placed an arm over Jenny’s shoulders. “Jenny, dat was one mighty t’ump yuh give to dat red skin bitch,” Hortense chuckled. “But me cyan fight me own battles now. We’re nah der ah school. Yuh don’t ’ave to defend me nuh more. Cilbert will never leave me fe de likes of her. She jus’ jealous. So me cyan tek whatever Almyna say to me an’ show de udder cheek.”

“She went too far,” wept Jenny. “Who she t’ink she is? Talking about Papa like dat! Me shoulda fling her overboard.”

“Me feel dat way too but yuh jus’ affe ignore her,” counselled Hortense. “She jus’ ignorant an’ all becah she ’ave ah lighter complexion she go on high an’ mighty like she an aristocrat. But remember wha’ sweet Gran’papa Neville tell we years ago,
de higher de monkey climb, de more he get exposed
. Almyna will get expose de same way.”

Jenny kept on sobbing, her wails becoming louder. “Is der somet’ing else dat ah trouble yuh, Jenny?” asked Hortense. “All of
we are nervous about dis trip so mebbe it put ah strain ’pon yuh. An’ me don’t know wha’ yuh an’ Mama argue about t’ree days ago but she love yuh dearly. An’ Papa too.”

Moving her hands from upon her face, Jenny turned to gaze into her sister’s eyes. Her lips moved to speak but no sound came out. She secretly wished they were children again, depending on each other with nobody else interfering. An’ Mama didn’t love
anyone
, she thought, but she kept this emotion to herself.

“Come, Jenny,” urged Hortense. “Remember we promise, we don’t keep anyt’ing from each udder. Not ah damn t’ing.”

Palming away her tears, Jenny looked out the porthole window. There she gazed for two minutes until she said, “Hortense, me nuh sure if me love Jacob. Mebbe me shoulda stayed home.”

“Now yuh cyan’t really mean dat,” replied Hortense. “Jacob is ah lovely mon an’ yuh mean de world to him. It’s ah big, big t’ing going ’pon dis trip an’ all of we emotions are all over de place. Me had doubts too. But yuh will get over it. It’s jus’ nerves dat ah ketch yuh. Wait an’ see ’til we reach Englan’, everyt’ing will be alright.”

Hortense kissed Jenny upon her forehead and embraced her. Jenny was about to confess something but feeling the familiarity and closeness of her sister, she closed her eyes and imagined they were back at home as children, curling up to each other in bed and listening to the hoots of the patus hidden away in the mighty Blue Mahoes.

Following the incident on deck, Cilbert led Jacob to the dining hall. Cilbert ordered a coffee for himself and an orange juice for Jacob. They sat without saying a word for ten minutes, listening to the clatter of the breakfast dishes being washed up, until Cilbert remarked, “Lord me God, ya Jenny ’ave ah fierce temper ’pon her! She t’ump like one of dem big cane cutter. Poor Almyna mus’ ah wonder wha’ lick her. Mon, even de mighty Sonny Liston woulda ketch ’fraid if him see Jenny inna action.”

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