Chapter 1: An Uncomfortable Discovery

Fort Royal, Martinique, April 1830

How should a well brought up Martiniquaise react to the discovery that the woman she has always thought of as her mother, in fact, isn’t? Or at least, she isn’t the woman who gave birth to her. That’s the shocking discovery that is facing me. The privilege of being called my mama apparently belongs to a woman named Jacqueline. On reflection, the possibility should have occurred to me before now. I look nothing like Brigitte Thibert, the woman I have called Mama for twenty one years. My straight black hair, roundish face, and olive skin are at odds with Mama’s angular visage, wavy chestnut hair and paler skin tone. Although not so obvious until recent years, our body shapes are different. She has small breasts and flat buttocks, while I’ve been endowed with a generous helping of both. Sure, I could have inherited some my features from my long dead father, but I would surely have some physical attributes that I share with Mama. As far as I can tell, I have none beyond the usual two arms, two legs and a head.

Although I found the adoption paper a few weeks ago, Mama is so far unaware of my accidental discovery. For the moment, our relationship is unchanged. That will change the moment I tell Mama about my discovery of the paper she clearly wanted to keep secret. I would be foolish to continue to hide it from her. At least two other people have shared in my discovery, so keeping the document a secret forever is a forlorn hope.

I remind myself that being adopted at birth isn’t a sin. Unfortunately it will certainly cloud the attitude of the other fine young ladies of Fort Royal towards me. It’s possible that I’ll no longer be allowed to associate with their elitist group. Perhaps not quite an outsider, but definitely relegated to the fringe of their purist social circle. In some respects I would find it a relief to be ejected from the elite circle, but Mama wouldn’t be pleased with me if that happened. I’m of marriageable age and it’s something of a mystery why Mama hasn’t pushed me on the subject before.

So, apart from telling Mama, how should I respond to my unexpected discovery? I could shrug it off as unimportant, and deal with any snide remarks. I’m still the same person that I’ve always been, so to that extent my discovery is unimportant. However, the option of ignoring my discovery will almost certainly be denied to me in the cut-throat social circles of Martinique’s upper crust. Although my attitudes and behaviour have been moulded by Mama, it’s my birth mother I will be called on to defend to the prissy snobs of Fort Royal high society.

I stop procrastinating, and I hand the document to Mama. She only briefly glances at the paper, obviously knowing what it says. I soon learn that preserving my social status is going to be far more difficult than I thought. Mama remembers next to nothing about my birth mother, and what she knows doesn’t help my cause one little bit. I can’t seem to get past the fact that Jacqueline was a slave.

“Curiosity can lead you to make discoveries that you may wish you had left unknown, Andrea,” says Mama when she studies the document I have discovered. “Are you sure you want to know more?”

“Yes, Mama. I do.”

“Hmm. On your head be it. What have I told you about my late husband?”

“Next to nothing. You rarely speak of him. You said that he died before I was a year old.”

“Hmm. You need to understand that my late husband, Jules Thibert, was a coward, a philanderer, a cheat, and a liar. At those were just his better attributes. It’s fitting that he died an unsavoury death in a backstreet brothel. Ours was a marriage of convenience to cement a political alliance, and nothing more. As you know, Jules owned and operated the Ladybird plantation in the north-east of the island.

“A few years after Jules and I married, the physicians told me that I cannot bear children. Adoption was the only option we had to have children. That’s why I agreed to adopt you. Jacqueline had been pregnant when we acquired her. Apparently she had been captured by pirates and sold into slavery. Undoubtedly one of her captors had dipped his wick in her pot before parting with her. Despite her rough edges, Jacqueline was a resourceful young woman, and a hard worker. However, she had some unsavoury friends who tracked her to our plantation. They negotiated for Jacqueline’s freedom. Jules and I agreed to grant Jacqueline her freedom in exchange for adopting her child ... you. It was an arrangement that suited everyone, including you. Even as a free woman, Jacqueline was in no position to support a child.