Andrew Pepper - Kill-Devil and Water

‘Give them three and they’d demand four.’ The voice came from somewhere behind them. Startled, they both turned around and saw Pemberton standing there. He had been listening to their conversation.

‘But why not compromise at two and three-quarters and at least make sure the cane is harvested?’ Pyke looked at Malvern rather than Pemberton. ‘Can you afford for the whole crop to be lost?’

This perception seemed to upset Malvern. He stood up quickly — too quickly perhaps, because the sudden exercise after a heavy dinner seemed to make him dizzy — and said he was going to retire and that Pemberton could answer any questions about the management of the estate. But when Pyke looked behind him for the attorney, he too had gone, and for a few moments Pyke sat there at the empty table, contemplating the scene he had just witnessed and what it suggested about the health, or otherwise, of the estate.

There was a quiet knock on Pyke’s bedroom door, shortly after he had retired for the night.

Quickly buttoning up his shirt, Pyke walked across the hardwood floor and opened the door slightly. William Dalling pushed his way into the room and waited for Pyke to close the door. ‘This is a nice room, this one, probably the best in the house,’ he said easily, as though his opinion had been invited. ‘The view of the mountains is spectacular first thing in the morning.’

‘I’ve had a long day, sir, and am not in the mood to play games. Tell me what you want and then leave.’

Dalling didn’t appear to have heard him. ‘Of course, it’s quite right to give the bedroom with the finest views to the guest of honour.’

‘Perhaps you didn’t hear me. So, this one time, I’m going to pretend you’re simple rather than rude and let it pass.’

‘But let’s just say the guest of honour wasn’t who he claimed to be? How quickly would such a man be turned out of the finest bedroom in the house?’

Pyke felt the moistness on his palms. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Dalling circled around him, nodding his head, as though amused by what Pyke had said. ‘What would you say if I told you I’d met Montgomery Squires? Well, maybe not met him, but I’ve certainly been in the same room as him.’

Pyke’s expression remained composed but inside he was trying not to panic. ‘I’d say that Montgomery Squires isn’t such an uncommon name. I’d also say that you need to be very careful about making insinuations without knowing where they might take you.’

‘Oh, I know very well where they’re taking me.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘A long way from this place, that’s for sure.’

‘And why do you think this?’

‘I can see you’re not short of a penny whereas I’m always just a few steps ahead of the poorhouse. Perhaps we should both look at this as a chance to even things up a little.’

Pyke took the measure of the man circling around him. ‘That sounds like a very risky strategy, not one I’d want to pursue if I were you.’

But this seemed to entertain rather than unnerve the bookkeeper. ‘Oh yes? And why is that?’

‘If you start making accusations about people, anything could happen.’

‘Is that some kind of a threat?’

‘If I were threatening you, you’d know about it. You wouldn’t have to ask.’

Dalling just grinned. ‘Fancy yourself as a tough one, eh?’

‘I’m just trying to make you aware of the situation.’

‘I appreciate the warning, so what I’m going to do is lay my cards on the table.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat. ‘Let’s say a hundred pounds will ensure that not a word of this conversation will be repeated to anyone in the house.’

The situation was starting to deteriorate beyond Pyke’s control and there was nothing he could do about it. ‘Why would I even think of paying you this kind of figure?’

Dalling stepped into the space between them, so close Pyke could smell the stale Madeira on his breath. ‘Because you don’t want Pemberton to find out what I know. Because if he does, I’d say your chances of making it off this estate are next to none.’

‘Why?’ Pyke paused. ‘What would he do?’

‘If Pemberton thought you were trying to cheat him, the question is, what wouldn’t he do.’

Pyke looked into Dalling’s eyes. ‘And if he thought someone was cuckolding him?’

Later, Pyke would reflect on Dalling’s expression with relief and some pleasure, but he knew, just as Dalling knew, that the bookkeeper would be able to make things unbearable for him unless he paid what the man had demanded. It meant that Pyke had to make plans of his own.

The following morning Pemberton was eating his breakfast alone in the dining room. He greeted Pyke’s arrival with as little enthusiasm as it was possible to muster. Pyke poured himself a cup of coffee from the silver pot and sat down opposite the attorney.

‘I’m guessing that you actually run the estate,’ Pyke said, after a while, his eyes never leaving Pemberton’s.

‘I do my job.’

‘A hard job for a fixed wage.’

‘I’m not complaining.’ Pemberton put a pastry into his mouth and began to chew.

‘But it must be hard, knowing that all your hard work and acumen are benefiting someone who is clearly not your equal.’

The lawyer continued to chew his pastry and took a sip of coffee. ‘Would you have said that if Charles were sitting here?’

Pyke picked up his coffee cup and stood up. ‘On that note, perhaps you could tell me where I can find Charles?’

Pemberton directed him out on to the veranda, where the young planter was slouched in a wicker chair staring blankly out at the view. The sky was absolutely clear and, for the time being, the air around them was fresh and cool. In the distance, over the buzzing of insects and the chirping of birds, Pyke could hear the flow of the river. After they had greeted one another, Pyke took a chair next to Malvern. For a while, the two of them stared in silence at the vista of green that extended as far as the eye could see.

‘It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?’

Malvern turned to face him. ‘Imagine waking up to these views every morning. If you buy this place, you won’t regret it, I assure you.’

Pyke nodded amiably. ‘I was told that it was your father who built this house.’

‘My grandfather, actually. Or he built the main part. My father added this veranda and the upstairs bedrooms.’

‘I can certainly understand why you’re so loath to let it go.’

‘Loath?’ Malvern put his coffee cup down and shook his head. ‘Oh, I’m not loath at all.’

‘But at one point you told me you’d imagined never leaving Ginger Hill, or the island.’

‘Yes, I thought I might be able to live here. That’s to say, we might be able to live here in peace.’

‘But that didn’t prove possible?’

‘I thought, perhaps naively, that free from my father’s disapproval, we might be accepted as equals. Mixed marriages are unusual in this part of the world, and they’re certainly frowned upon, but they’re not unheard of.’

‘Your fiancee is black?’ Pyke asked, trying to muster the appropriate level of surprise and even consternation.

‘Mulatto actually.’ Malvern smiled dreamily. ‘I suppose you think less of me now?’

‘What a man does in his private life is none of my concern.’ Pyke waited for a moment. ‘But you were saying something about not being accepted as equals?’

‘The prejudice is as much on the blacks’ side as the whites’. They wouldn’t leave her in peace. Things happened. She became unsettled, frightened even.’ Malvern stopped, perhaps sensing he’d said too much, especially to a prospective buyer of the estate.