The Sugar Planter's Daughter (32 page)

I
wasn't a witness
. This is the story as told to me by others, first Andrew and then Jim.

George and Andrew raced as fast as the car could go to Rosignol, arriving just in time for the nine o'clock ferry. On the other side, they stopped to refill the petrol tank and continued up the coast towards Promised Land. Only about fifteen minutes later, however, they noticed a car parked at the side of the road. It was George's Ford. Andrew stopped and they got out to inspect it.

By now the sun had risen and the day was bright. Peering through the windows of the car, George saw a figure huddled on the back seat. He tried the door, but it was locked, so he knocked on the window. The figure slowly righted itself; it was Winnie. She sat there, forlorn and alone, her face stained with dried tears. When she saw it was George fresh tears pooled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

I can only imagine the sigh of relief that George must have let out. Winnie rubbed her eyes and slowly reached for the door handle. When the door opened George plunged into the back seat and pulled Winnie to him, hugging her and crying.

‘I can't do, it George. I can't!'

‘Of course you can't.'

‘I was going to do it but the car ran out of petrol – I forgot to fill up at New Amsterdam. And then I thought that was a sign. I thought it was a message, not to do it. From God. Or a guardian angel. Or my conscience. Something.'

‘Yes, darling, yes!'

‘Oh George! I don't know what to do!'

‘Let's go home, darling. Let's go home. Andrew will go and get some petrol.' He leaned out of the car, signalled to Andrew and gave him instructions. Andrew nodded, returned to his own car, turned it round and drove off.

‘I can't go home, George. I can't go yet. I have to see her. I need to see my daughter! I need to go to Promised Land. I'll
die
if I don't see her!'

‘Oh, darling!'

‘Please, George, let's go and see her. We've come this far.'

‘Darling – it's not so easy. Yoyo'

‘To
hell
with Yoyo! I only want to see my daughter!'

‘But she's with Yoyo now. It's not a good idea to go there now, darling. Please! Let's just go home.'

They argued for a while, and Winnie won. Winnie could always wrap George round her little finger. She persuaded George to drive her to Promised Land. George made her promise not to make demands, though: ‘You know what Yoyo's like,' he pointed out. ‘The more you confront her, the more confrontational she gets. You have to be calm, darling.
Request
a meeting with Grace. Allow Yoyo to think she is being kind and gracious. She did promise visitation rights. That's how to approach this.'

Grace promised to curtail her anger and murderous thoughts, and try for a civil conversation. When Andrew returned with the petrol and they continued on, though, she argued with George again.

‘Let her think she is doing you a favour,' he counselled her.

‘But she
stole
Grace!'

‘No. Grace is her daughter. All she did was break a promise, destroy your trust.'

‘That's as bad as stealing.'

‘You may be right. But it doesn't matter who's right here. What matters is
strategy
. You want to see Grace – well, you need to play according to Yoyo's rules. All right?'

‘All right,' Winnie finally conceded.

So that's what they did. I heard this much from Andrew; he drove back to Georgetown and he reported to me everything that had happened to that point. Needless to say I was relieved, having feared the very worst – some tragedy, brought about by a raging Winnie literally out of her mind with grief. Grief can bring out the darkest impulses in a human – I know that from my own past. In my case, it brought about years of depression. In Winnie it might be violence; I couldn't tell.

Since Winnie was a complete mess – she had slept in her clothes, it turned out, and her face was smudged with dust and tears – they decided to first pay a visit to Jim, so as to clean her up, have some breakfast and generally replenish their inner resources. Jim had always been a touchstone of good sense and advice for both of them, and that was the right decision. Winnie was still very much out of sorts, and it was a good idea for her to regain her composure before she faced Yoyo. Water, rest, food and Jim's company would do the trick.

But even the best-laid plans go awry. As usual, Jim's house was teeming with visitors, among them Arthur Grant, a friend who lived on the main village street. Arthur arrived while Winnie and George were having breakfast. When he heard who they were and where they were going, he shook his head.

‘Mistress Cox not home this morning,' he said. ‘I see she when I was leaving the house. Driving through the village street, fast-fast. One-a these days she gon' kill somebody, the way she does drive.'

‘So she's out? Darn!' said George. George was no doubt eager to get this over with and return to Georgetown.

‘But that means Grace will be alone at home! With her nursemaid!' Winnie's voice was shrill with excitement and new hope. ‘George! This is the perfect time to go, if Yoyo's out! Let's just go and grab Grace! Bring her home!'

George sighed, and squeezed Winnie's hand.

‘That's nonsense and you know it. They'll just send round the police again. Do you want to go through that agony again? And think about Grace, darling. We can't put her through that. Think how confusing it must be for her!'

Winnie's face fell. ‘You're right, I suppose. But if Yoyo's not home we could at least go and visit her.'

Arthur, who had been trying to get a word in edgewise, spoke up then.

‘Mistress Cox take the baby with she. I see the nursemaid in the passenger seat, holding the baby.'

‘Well, that settles that,' said George, relieved.

‘Where could she have gone? How long will she be?' asked Winnie.

‘Probably gone to show off her baby to all her friends,' said Jim. ‘She's got friends all over the place. New Amsterdam, Plantation Glasgow, Plantation Dieu Merci.'

‘Really? Even though the baby obviously isn't Clarence's?'

Jim threw back his head and laughed. ‘You really don't know your sister! You think Yoyo gives one damn about propriety? The moment she decided to take back that baby – that moment she decided to hell with the scandal. Everyone already knows she slept with George. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb – that's how Yoyo reasons.'

Jim really did know Yoyo better than Winnie did. In spite of her rancour and her rage, Winnie was still inclined to ascribe her own morals and codes of behaviour to her sister – the very way of thinking that had brought about this disaster. A fatal mistake. Winnie was trustworthy and she assumed the same of Yoyo. Had she been as distrustful as I was – as I had warned her to be – she would have insisted on an adoption. She didn't, and now we had this.

‘Tell you what,' said Jim. ‘Arthur, when you go home keep an eye on the road. When Yoyo comes back home, send a message, or come back and tell us. Meanwhile, Winnie and George can spend some time with me. I haven't seen you-all for years – we'll take time to catch up! How's that for a good plan?'

Winnie was silent. George accepted eagerly. And that's exactly what they did. They were there all day.

G
eorge and Jim
tried to spend as normal a day as possible; George kept a close eye on Winnie, spoiled her, buzzed around her to keep her happy, which of course she wasn't. She ate no breakfast and only nibbled at her lunch; she said her stomach was churning, and could she lie down. She made herself comfortable in the downstairs hammock, where she could keep an eye on the front gate. As the day dragged on and neither Arthur nor his emissary reappeared, she grew steadily more nervous, pacing the yard, coming upstairs asking for a glass of water, staring out of the window. George worried, but tried not show it.

‘Are you sure they're not back yet?' she kept asking.

‘Arthur gon' watch like a hawk. He gon' tell the whole street to watch out, all the neighbours. You know how village people does be! Don't worry. She probably gone to spend the day with friends.'

Winnie would probably have preferred to go and sit on the main street herself, waiting. Once, she suggested going to Promised Land and waiting there.

‘I've got the front door key!' she said. ‘We can just go in and make ourselves at home and wait.'

‘Winnie, Winnie. We can't do that. It's
Yoyo's
home now, not yours. You can't just go in there and wait. That's like breaking and entering!'

‘I suppose so.'

Still, she paced and fretted and watched the gate. That was no doubt the longest day of Winnie's life. At last, as the sun was sliding down the western horizon, the gate-bell jangled and Arthur called out.

‘She just drive past! Just now!'

George and Winnie got into the car.

‘Want me to come along?' asked Jim, leaning on George's window. ‘Just in case?'

‘Just in case of what?'

‘I don't know. Just in case. Maybe I can help.'

‘No, Jim. You can't help. This is between us and Yoyo.'

Still Jim didn't retreat.

‘Let me come, George. I have a feeling.'

He didn't move away, so George shrugged and said, ‘All right. Get in the back.'

So Jim got in the back seat and George drove off.

D
usk had settled
by the time they reached the gate of Promised Land. The watchman, wary at first, approached the car and, because it was dark inside, held his kerosene lamp up to the window, peering in. When he saw George, he grinned. George rolled down the window.

‘Master George!' said the watchman. ‘Nice to see you, man! You ain't been around these parts for a long time!'

‘Hello, Bigfoot!' George replied. ‘Nice to see you again! How things?'

Bigfoot shrugged. ‘So-so. A bit better since the mistress get de baby. So far. Life is life. We got to survive, nah!' Peering further into the car, he saw Winnie, then Jim.

‘Mistress! Good to see you, man! How you doin'! Good night, sir.' That last to Jim.

Winnie nodded a curt greeting at him, then poked George. ‘Come on. Let's go.'

George saluted the watchman, who unlocked and opened the gate and let them pass through. He drove down the driveway and parked the car next to Yoyo's dusty vehicle.

‘Stay here, Jim,' said George. ‘Just wait for us. All right?'

They both got out and walked up the entrance steps, George first. He knocked on the door. A few moments later the window next to the door opened and a maid poked her head through, and a hand holding a kerosene lamp.

‘Oh!' she said when she saw who it was. ‘Jus' one minute!'

George and Winnie heard her shouting. ‘Mistress! Mistress! Come down quickly! Is you sister and she husban'! Mistress Winnie an' Master George!'

It seemed that Yoyo was upstairs, in one of the bedrooms. Through the still-closed door Winnie and George heard the clatter of feet on the stairs and a moment later the door flew open and Yoyo stood before them. If they had been expecting a hostile showdown, they were disappointed.

‘Winnie! George! Come in! Come in! I was hoping you would come one day! Come on in!'

Yoyo was smiling, and the smile seemed almost genuine.

Winnie and George looked at each other in amazement. Not sure how to respond to Yoyo's enthusiastic welcome, they entered silently. Winnie looked around, as if for Grace; as if she expected the little girl to come running into her arms. But apart from Yoyo, the maid and themselves, the gallery was empty. So Winnie spoke.

‘Where is she?'

Leading them to the group of gallery chairs, Yoyo replied airily: ‘Who? Oh, you mean Mary! The poor dear – she was exhausted! Fast asleep, upstairs. Too much sun, too much play. We went to see Melanie Booker at Dieu Merci – she has a daughter of almost the same age and two older children. We spent the day at Guid Fortuin beach – the children had such fun! And then we went back to Melanie's house for supper. It was glorious! Mary slept all the way home, on the seat, so I dropped Nursie home on the way back. I only had to put her into her bed. I still stayed to sing her bedtime song – I just love watching her while she sleeps. Oh Winnie! You must come up more often and spend some time with us! Look, I know it was a bit unfair, what I did, but it was right. I need her. I do. And you have so many children, so many babies – I know you can spare this one. I should have done it differently – of course, I know that now. But I was so afraid – afraid you wouldn't give her back – afraid you'd want to keep her. I do feel guilty still. But you'll forgive me, won't you, Winnie? You
have
forgiven me, haven't you? You're such a good person. I think about you so much. I know we can be real sisters now; mothers together! You must bring your little ones up. All of them! We can be one big happy family at last. And'