the cook house, Matthew took the opportunity to fall in step with the overseer.
“There’s been a miscarriage of justice, I’m here unjustly.”
Jones gave him a disinterested look.
“I was abducted by force in Edinburgh,” Matthew went on. “And now I must return to my family and home. I have a farm to run as well,” he smiled, trying to find some point of contact with the silent mountain beside him. “Not at all on this scale, but mine.”
Jones regarded him for a moment. “We paid twenty pounds for you.”
“Then I’ll see you reimbursed.”
“Really?” Jones said. “How?”
“Once I get back home—” Matthew began but was interrupted by Jones’ loud braying laugh.
“Get back home? And you aim to swim? Fly like a bird?”
“Nay, of course not. I’ll go by ship.”
“And how will you pay the passage?” Jones’ eyes glinted maliciously. Matthew fell silent and trudged beside him for some paces.
“I shouldn’t be here, I must get home.”
Jones came to a halt. “But you are, and we’ve paid good money for you. Unless you can reimburse us, you’ll just have to work your years off.”
Matthew shook his head angrily. “Nay, that isn’t right. You know it isn’t!”
Jones gave him a bored look and yawned. He pointed his hand in the direction of the cook house.
“Get some breakfast. You’ll need it.” He nodded and despite his bulk swivelled elegantly on his toes, hurrying up towards the main house.
Behind him Matthew stood clenching and unclenching his fists. How was he to find twenty pounds in this place, here where he couldn’t even find the few coins needed to send a letter back home?
After a tasteless breakfast of watery gruel and bread, Jones lined them up in the yard and took his time inspecting them. Matthew stared straight ahead and pretended he was elsewhere as the overseer hemmed and hawed over his physique. Jones fingered Matthew’s coat, his breeches, and stood back, eyeing Matthew with a small quirk to his mouth.
“Take them off,” he said. “You won’t need clothes such as those here.”
“Nay,” Matthew said, “they’re mine.”
“Are they? Well, I’m telling you to strip.”
“No,” Matthew replied, squaring himself. “Why should I?” Too late he became aware of the sudden light in Jones’ eyes, and the whip caught him straight across his face, splitting his lip.
“Now,” Jones repeated, “strip.”
Matthew dabbed at his lip with his sleeve and considered his options. Either he undressed himself, or he would be undressed, here, in front of all the people that were slowly assembling. He stiffened; if they wanted his clothes they’d have to tear them off him.
Ten minutes later, Matthew lay curled around himself, as naked as the day he’d been born. All of him was covered with welts and he was bleeding from nose and mouth. His clothes lay in torn tatters on the ground beside him, and even in his semi-conscious state he felt a vague satisfaction that no one would have the use of them. A bucket of ice cold water was poured over him and hands pulled him to his feet. A grey worn shirt landed at his feet, followed by equally worn breeches in an undefined colour that may once have been brown.
“Get dressed.”
He complied and followed Jones and his shipmates to the barns.
“You’ll be packing all day,” Jones informed them, waving his hand at the full interior. “All of this has to be baled today.”
“This is your fault, Graham,” Elijah muttered much later. They could scarcely move their arms, and in the dark above them pole after pole of unpacked tobacco still hung.
“You reckon?” Matthew slurred.
“Aye, this is for you not doing as he said.”
Matthew attempted a snort through his swollen nose. “Nay, Elijah. We would have been doing this no matter. This is him breaking in his new men.”
*
For the first few months of his life at the plantation, this was all Matthew did. He baled and baled, lifted heavy loads of dried
“There’s been a miscarriage of justice, I’m here unjustly.”
Jones gave him a disinterested look.
“I was abducted by force in Edinburgh,” Matthew went on. “And now I must return to my family and home. I have a farm to run as well,” he smiled, trying to find some point of contact with the silent mountain beside him. “Not at all on this scale, but mine.”
Jones regarded him for a moment. “We paid twenty pounds for you.”
“Then I’ll see you reimbursed.”
“Really?” Jones said. “How?”
“Once I get back home—” Matthew began but was interrupted by Jones’ loud braying laugh.
“Get back home? And you aim to swim? Fly like a bird?”
“Nay, of course not. I’ll go by ship.”
“And how will you pay the passage?” Jones’ eyes glinted maliciously. Matthew fell silent and trudged beside him for some paces.
“I shouldn’t be here, I must get home.”
Jones came to a halt. “But you are, and we’ve paid good money for you. Unless you can reimburse us, you’ll just have to work your years off.”
Matthew shook his head angrily. “Nay, that isn’t right. You know it isn’t!”
Jones gave him a bored look and yawned. He pointed his hand in the direction of the cook house.
“Get some breakfast. You’ll need it.” He nodded and despite his bulk swivelled elegantly on his toes, hurrying up towards the main house.
Behind him Matthew stood clenching and unclenching his fists. How was he to find twenty pounds in this place, here where he couldn’t even find the few coins needed to send a letter back home?
After a tasteless breakfast of watery gruel and bread, Jones lined them up in the yard and took his time inspecting them. Matthew stared straight ahead and pretended he was elsewhere as the overseer hemmed and hawed over his physique. Jones fingered Matthew’s coat, his breeches, and stood back, eyeing Matthew with a small quirk to his mouth.
“Take them off,” he said. “You won’t need clothes such as those here.”
“Nay,” Matthew said, “they’re mine.”
“Are they? Well, I’m telling you to strip.”
“No,” Matthew replied, squaring himself. “Why should I?” Too late he became aware of the sudden light in Jones’ eyes, and the whip caught him straight across his face, splitting his lip.
“Now,” Jones repeated, “strip.”
Matthew dabbed at his lip with his sleeve and considered his options. Either he undressed himself, or he would be undressed, here, in front of all the people that were slowly assembling. He stiffened; if they wanted his clothes they’d have to tear them off him.
Ten minutes later, Matthew lay curled around himself, as naked as the day he’d been born. All of him was covered with welts and he was bleeding from nose and mouth. His clothes lay in torn tatters on the ground beside him, and even in his semi-conscious state he felt a vague satisfaction that no one would have the use of them. A bucket of ice cold water was poured over him and hands pulled him to his feet. A grey worn shirt landed at his feet, followed by equally worn breeches in an undefined colour that may once have been brown.
“Get dressed.”
He complied and followed Jones and his shipmates to the barns.
“You’ll be packing all day,” Jones informed them, waving his hand at the full interior. “All of this has to be baled today.”
“This is your fault, Graham,” Elijah muttered much later. They could scarcely move their arms, and in the dark above them pole after pole of unpacked tobacco still hung.
“You reckon?” Matthew slurred.
“Aye, this is for you not doing as he said.”
Matthew attempted a snort through his swollen nose. “Nay, Elijah. We would have been doing this no matter. This is him breaking in his new men.”
*
For the first few months of his life at the plantation, this was all Matthew did. He baled and baled, lifted heavy loads of dried
Similar Books
