Chapter 19: Searching the Slave Register

I realise that I need to speak to Fleur alone. She’s almost certainly the Fleur who is Randolph’s birth mother. I remember Mama saying that Fleur had been reenslaved and I suppose the Ladybird plantation is one of the largest in the area. Fleur and I are both being guarded in what we say openly. Randolph might not even realise that Fleur is his birth mother. Charity is present, so I guard my tongue. She and I may have become closer in recent weeks, but you don’t entirely shrug off a decade of mistrust and hostility overnight. I don’t want my family’s skeletons dragging out of the cupboard for Charity and her cronies to gossip about. Mama would never forgive me for that.

Uncle Henri meets with us an hour or so later once his meeting with his overseer is finished. The overseer is a man called Solomon and is the sort of person you don’t want to bump into on a dark night. His curt grunt of acknowledgement in our direction is the only form of greeting we receive from him. My uncle Henri’s frosty greeting isn’t much better.

Henri is a man in his late fifties and his health is obviously in decline. The state of his health doesn’t improve his already bad reputation as cruel and heartless man. Mama had warned me to be careful around Henri. It was only the reassurance contained in Randolph’s letter of a month ago that overcame Mama’s last reservation about allowing me to come here without an armed escort. Randolph said that he and Henri were getting on fine.

“The Ladybird ain’t no place for fine ladies to come avisiting,” growls Henri.

“We won’t intrude on your hospitality for longer than necessary, uncle,” I reply. “I’m trying to track down something about my mother.”

“Huh? Why don’t you ask her then? Brigitte the bitch was still alive and kicking the last time I received news from Fort Royal.”

“Ah! No. I mean my birth mother, Jacqueline,” I say, not rising to the bait of defending his insult to Mama.

“Another bitch. Long gone and good riddance. Only met her a couple of times. Dangerous look about her. Jules did well to get rid of her.”

“Hmm. Well, even so, I would like to find out something about her. I was hoping you would let me look through the plantation’s records from that time.”

“You’ll not find much help there, but you’re welcome to look. I’ll have Solomon locate them for you. I suppose you will be wanting beds for the night?”

“Yes, please, uncle,” I say politely, even though I would rather throttle him.

“I’ll get Fleur to make up some beds. We don’t get many visitors these days.”

“Is Randolph returning soon?” asks Charity.

“No idea. Went off on a wild goose chase looking for his sister. Stupid fool.”

“Um. I don’t understand. Andrea is here,” replies Charity.

“Not that sister, Blondie,” chortles Henri, obviously delighting in my discomfort at his revelation that I’m not Randolph’s only sister. “Ask this one to explain.”

Henri leaves us in order to give Fleur and Solomon their tasks. Charity looks to me for an explanation. At least Henri’s outburst has answered some of my questions. Randolph knows he has a twin sister and, presumably, that Fleur is his birth mother.

“Randolph has a twin sister, but they were separated at birth. Randolph was adopted by my mother, but we don’t know what happened to his twin. Clearly Randolph has a lead on her whereabouts since coming here.”

I don’t reveal that Fleur is Randolph’s mother, although one look at her and you would see a family connection. I reserve Randolph the right to reveal that item of information to Charity. Samantha is absorbing all this information without making a comment.