Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys [28]
Then you come to this island for your honeymoon and it’s certain that the Lord put the thing on my shoulders and that it is I must speak the truth to you. Still I hesitate.
I hear you young and handsome with a kind word for all, black, white, also coloured. But I hear too that the girl is beautiful like her mother was beautiful, and you bewitch with her. She is in your blood and your bones. By night and by day. But you, an honourable man, know well that for marriage more is needed than all this. Which does not last. Old Mason bewitch so with her mother and look what happen to him. Sir I pray I am in time to warn you what to do.
Sir ask yourself how I can make up this story and for what reason. When I leave Jamaica I can read write and cypher a little. The good man in Barbados teach me more, he give books, he tell me read the Bible every day and I pick up knowledge without effort. He is surprise how quick I am. Still I remain an ignorant man and I do not make up this story. I cannot It is true.
I sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds – with God’s help I catch some.
A week this letter take me. I cannot sleep at night thinking what to say. So quickly now I draw to a close and cease my task.
Still you don’t believe me? Then ask that devil of a man Richard Mason three questions and make him answer you. Is your wife’s mother shut away, a raging lunatic and worse besides? Dead or alive I do not know.
Was your wife’s brother an idiot from birth, though God mercifully take him early on?
Is your wife herself going the same way as her mother and all knowing it?
Richard Mason is a sly man and he will tell you a lot of nancy stories, which is what we call lies here, about what happen at Coulibri and this and that. Don’t listen. Make him answer - yes or no.
If he keep his mouth shut ask others for many think it shameful how that family treat you and your relatives.
I beg you sir come to see me for there is more that you should know. But my hand ache and my heart is like a stone for the grief I bring you. Money is good but no money can pay for a crazy wife in your bed. Crazy and worse besides.
I lay down my pen with one last request. Come and see me quickly. Your obt servant. Daniel Cosway.
Ask the girl Amélie where I live. She knows, and she knows me. She belongs to this island.
I folded the letter carefully and put it into my pocket. I felt no surprise. It was as if I’d expected it, been waiting for it. For a time, long or short I don’t know, I sat listening to the river. At last I stood up, the sun was hot now. I walked stiffly nor could I force myself to think. Then I pass an orchid with long sprays of golden-brown flowers. One of them touched my cheek and I remembered picking some for her one day. ‘They are like you,’ I told her. Now I stopped, broke a spray off and trampled it into the mud. This brought me to my senses. I leaned against a tree, sweating and trembling. ‘Far too hot today,’ I said aloud, ‘far too hot.’ When I came in sight of the house I began to walk silently. No one was about. The kitchen door was shut and the place looked deserted. I went up the steps and along the veranda and when I heard voices stopped behind the door which led into Antoinette’s room. I could see it reflected in the looking-glass. She was in bed and the girl Amélie was sweeping.
‘Finish quickly,’ said Antoinette, ‘and go and tell Christophine I want to see her.’
Amélie rested her hands on the broom handle. ‘Christophine is going,’ she said.
‘Going?’ repeated Antoinette.
‘Yes, going,’ said Amélie. ‘Christophine don’t like this sweet honeymoon house.’ Turning round she saw me and laughed loudly. ‘Your husban’ he outside the door and he look like he see zombi. Must be he tired of the sweet honeymoon too.’
Antoinette jumped out of bed and slapped her face.
‘I hit you back white cockroach, I hit you back,’ said Amélie. And she did
Antoinette gripped