The Daughters of Eden Trilogy

by Michelle Paver

  ‘I burnt it,’ he said.

  She tried to swallow, but her throat was too tight. ‘Was there anything – could you see anything?’

  ‘No. Not much.’

  She shut her eyes tight, but the tears squeezed out just the same.

  There was silence, while he knelt beside her with his hand on her shoulder, and she cried. Again she heard the red-tailed hawk out in the hills: high and far away and lonely. The loneliest sound in the world.

  When she’d stopped crying, Ben said, ‘Evie. Tell me something.’

  She turned back to him.

  ‘When you were delirious, you called me Cyrus. I didn’t catch the surname—’

  ‘Wright. Cyrus Wright.’

  ‘Is he the father?’

  She shook her head. ‘Cyrus Wright died a long time ago. At least, I hope so.’

  There was a pause while he considered that. Then he said, ‘So who is the father?’

  She did not reply.

  ‘Evie?’

  ‘Ben – no. I’m not telling.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I said no.’

  Another silence. Then he said softly, ‘Christ, Evie, what the hell were you thinking? Why didn’t you come to me? I would have got you the best doctors.’

  ‘The best doctors are white. They wouldn’t treat a mulatto girl who’s no better than she should be.’

  ‘Then I’d have got you a black doctor.’

  ‘There’s only one black doctor on the Northside, and he’s my cousin.’

  ‘And you don’t want anyone to know. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you came up here?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Not even your mother?’

  ‘God, no! Specially not her.’ She paused to recover her strength. ‘She thinks I’m up at Mandeville, seeing a friend. And it’s got to stay that way, Ben. You’ve got to promise me that.’

  He nodded. But something in his eyes made her uneasy.

  ‘How did you find me?’ she asked again.

  He told her how he’d been riding in the hills, and met a frightened little girl on a pony. ‘She was babbling about something she’d found in a cave, so we came back here, and – there you were.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I did what I could for you, then I took Belle home. Well, at least I saw her safely to the crossroads.’

  She frowned. ‘Her name was Belle?’

  ‘Yes. Isabelle Lawe.’

  She shut her eyes in dismay. She pictured Belle excitedly telling her parents all about her adventure in the hills; which would mean that by now old Braverly knew, and Moses and Poppy, and most of Trelawny. Including her mother.

  ‘Don’t worry about Belle,’ said Ben, guessing her thoughts. ‘She won’t breathe a word.’

  She threw him a suspicious look. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because once we reached the crossroads, all she could think about was how she was going to catch it from her parents for venturing into the Cockpits. So I suggested a pact. I wouldn’t rat on her, if she didn’t rat on you.’

  ‘And you’re sure she’ll stick to that?’

  His lip curled. ‘Oh, yes.’

  She studied his face. ‘There’s something you’re not telling.’

  He turned his head to look at the cave mouth, then back to her. ‘I sent for help.’

  Her heart sank. ‘What sort of help?’

  He ran his thumb across his lower lip. ‘I met young Neptune Parker, and sent him for supplies and horses.’

  Jesus God. Neptune Parker was her second cousin! She opened her mouth to protest, but again Ben read her thoughts. ‘Don’t worry, he doesn’t know you’re up here. As far as he’s concerned I’ve just found something interesting in a cave.’

  But still she sensed that there was more to come. ‘Was it only for supplies that you sent Neptune?’

  Again he glanced away. ‘No. I also sent him to deliver a note.’

  ‘A note?’

  He did not reply.

  ‘Who’d you send for, Ben? Who?’

  He met her eyes. ‘She won’t tell anyone, Evie. You know you can trust her.’

  In a horrifying flash she realized who he meant. But she should have known! With Ben it always came back to the same woman. Always. Even though he wouldn’t acknowledge it to himself.

  She tried to rise up on her elbow, but the pain forced her back. ‘Jesus God, Ben! Sophie’s the last person you should have told!’

  ‘Listen,’ he said between his teeth, ‘I don’t want her here any more than you do. But I had to get someone. And at least she’ll have some idea of what to do.’

  Sophie had no idea what Ben imagined she could do, but his request was so extraordinary that she obeyed it at once.

  E.M. needs you. Bring medicine. Tell no-one (including Neptune). B.K.

  A pencilled scrawl on a scrap of notepaper. In the space of a few seconds, she went from astonishment that he should seek her help, to indignation at his arrogance, to sharp anxiety for Evie. Bring medicine. Medicine for what?

  By great good luck she was alone when the note arrived. Alexander had gone to a polo match at Rio Bueno, Cornelius was with Gus Parnell in Montego Bay, Rebecca was having her after-luncheon rest, and to Sophie’s intense relief Sibella was spending the day at Ironshore with Davina and the little Irvings. Lately she’d been impossible: moody, restless and excitable. But she’d barely noticed when Sophie pleaded a headache and stayed at home.

  It had been surprisingly easy to get away without being seen – although that was probably due to the network of servants conspiring to help her. Neptune Parker was related to Danny Tulloch the head groom, and also to Hannibal, the second footman; and at Parnassus that counted for more than loyalty to the master and mistress.

  But to her consternation, Neptune wouldn’t tell her a thing about where they were going. He was polite and respectful, but immovable. In taut silence they rode south-east through the cane-pieces to the edge of the estate. By the time they’d reached the Fever Hill Road, Sophie had had enough. ‘Neptune, what on earth is this about?’ she demanded, reining in her horse.

  The boy looked unhappily at the ground and shook his head. Tall and solemn, with a narrow, clever face, he’d clearly been chosen for his silent disposition. ‘I don’t know, Miss Sophie,’ he mumbled. ‘Master Ben just said for to fetch you quick-time.’

  ‘But where are we going? You’ve got to tell me something, or I shan’t go any further.’

  He looked so unhappy that she felt a twinge of guilt. ‘Somewhere up near Turnaround,’ he muttered.

  ‘Turnaround? But that’s miles away, in the Cockpits!’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘What’s up there?’

  ‘I don’t know, ma’am.’

  She gave up. It wasn’t fair to cross-examine him. Besides, given Ben’s warning about mentioning Evie, there wasn’t much more she could ask.

  They turned into the gates of Fever Hill and headed up the carriageway, stopping only briefly at the stables to collect fresh horses and what Neptune laconically called ‘supplies’, before putting the great house behind them, and following the narrow trickle of the Green River south towards the Martha Brae. Sophie didn’t have time to look about her, or feel more than a faint regret at this fleeting visit to the estate where she’d begun her life in Jamaica.

  But now as they rode south through the nursery cane-pieces of Glen Marnoch, she realized that they were heading straight for Eden. Once they reached the Martha Brae, they would have to turn either right towards Stony Gap, or left towards Romilly. And if they were making for Turnaround, the eastward route via Romilly would be the more direct.

  Romilly was on Eden land. Merely thinking about it brought her out in a cold sweat. She was astonished at the strength of her reaction. More than ever, she knew that she couldn’t go anywhere near Eden.

  By the time they reached the Martha Brae, she was clutching the reins to stop her hands from shaking. Neptune stopped briefly to water the horses, but she remained in
the saddle, ready to turn tail and run.

  Eden was breathtakingly close. If she threw a stone at the opposite bank, she would hit it. Through the overarching plumes of the giant bamboo she could see the young cane of Orange Grove, where she and Evie used to play hide and seek. Half a mile downstream lay Romilly. And on the soft red banks directly opposite, old Braverly had taught Fraser to fish, in the final summer of his brief life.

  Too many reminders. Too many memories. She couldn’t go back. Cameron hadn’t known what he was asking.

  ‘Miss Sophie?’ said Neptune.

  She started.

  He was looking at her oddly, and she realized that he must have spoken her name several times. ‘We go now? Yes?’

  ‘That depends,’ she said. ‘Which way?’

  He gave her a puzzled look, then turned his horse’s head right, towards Stony Gap. Master Ben, he explained, had said to avoid Eden land.

  She hardly heard him. She was shaking with relief.

  They followed the river upstream to the bridge at Stony Gap, then Neptune took her on a track she didn’t know, which skirted the bare western slope of Overlook Hill before looping south around its foot, and coming out just south of the crossroads.

  Now that she could forget about Eden, she had time to wonder about Ben. She hadn’t seen him since that day at the Myrtle Bank Hotel. She didn’t want to see him again. Especially not after that invitation to his Boxing Day Masquerade. What was he playing at now? What was she getting herself into?

  An hour later, Neptune reined in beside a stunted calabash tree, and dismounted, and indicated the half-hidden mouth of a cave some twenty yards above the track.

  Ben was nowhere about. ‘Is he up there?’ Sophie asked, pointing to the cave.

  Neptune shook his head. Ben’s hat was no longer on the boulder by the thorn tree, which apparently meant that he’d gone elsewhere.

  His absence astonished her. She’d just ridden ten miles cross-country in the baking sun, and he didn’t even have the decency to be here when she arrived. Setting her teeth, she dismounted, tethered her horse, and stiffly asked Neptune to lead the way. He politely declined. He had strict instructions not to go near the cave.

  She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse. But as she unbuckled the saddlebag containing the hasty collection of medicines she’d cobbled together with the help of the Parnassus housekeeper, she felt the first bite of real alarm. She glanced at the mouth of darkness gaping in the hill. It looked horribly quiet and still. What would she find inside? And what did Ben imagine she could do? She wasn’t a doctor. She wasn’t even a nurse.

  She drew a deep breath and gave Neptune what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Well, then,’ she said briskly. ‘If Master Ben comes back from wherever on earth he’s got to, perhaps you’d be kind enough to tell him where I’ve gone.’ Then she shouldered the saddlebag and began to climb.

  After an hour she emerged from the cave, drying her hands on her handkerchief. And there he was: sitting on the ground halfway down the track, with his back to her and his elbows on his knees.

  When he heard her he jumped to his feet. ‘How is she?’ he demanded.

  No greeting. No Thank God you came. What did he care that she’d dropped everything for a one-line summons, and ridden ten miles in the afternoon sun? What did he care that she felt shaky and sick from the stink of blood and hopelessness in that cave?

  Biting back her anger, she put her finger to her lips and motioned to him to follow her down the slope.

  Neptune must have gone off to water the horses, because all that remained beneath the calabash tree was a neat stack of supplies. Sophie found a low wooden box in the shade, and sat down and put her head in her hands.

  ‘How is she?’ Ben said again.

  ‘I gave her a febrifuge and a sleeping powder,’ she muttered.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And she’s asleep,’ she snapped. She took off her hat and tossed it on the ground, and kneaded the back of her neck. ‘She’s extremely weak, and very low in spirits – which is hardly surprising. And furious with you for summoning me.’

  She intended ‘summon’ as a reproach, but he ignored it. ‘But she’ll be all right?’ he insisted.

  ‘As far as I can tell, yes.’

  His face was taut. He didn’t seem to believe her.

  She said sharply, ‘I was surprised not to find you here when I arrived. Where were you?’

  He blinked. ‘What? Oh. She wanted some Madam Fate. I went to look for it.’

  She glanced at his empty hands. ‘No wonder you didn’t find any. It doesn’t grow round here.’

  He wasn’t listening. He was looking up at the cave, his face sharp with concern.

  Not for the first time, she wondered if he was the father of Evie’s child. But if he were, surely he would have looked after her better than this?

  He turned back to her. ‘Did she tell you who the father is?’

  She shook her head. ‘Who is he? D’you know?’

  ‘Of course not. That’s why I’m asking you.’ He saw something in her face, and tossed his head. ‘You thought it was me.’

  ‘It crossed my mind.’

  ‘Do you honestly think that if I were the father, I would have let her come up here?’

  ‘I only said that it crossed my mind. I didn’t—’

  ‘Sooner or later,’ he cut in, ‘she’ll have to tell me his name. And when she does, I’ll rip his spine out.’

  She could see that he meant it. She almost envied Evie for inspiring such fierce concern.

  He turned back to her and searched her face. ‘Are you absolutely sure that she’s going to be all right?’

  ‘I told you, I’m as sure as I can be.’

  He looked at her for a moment. Then he threw himself onto a boulder and put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. ‘God,’ he muttered. ‘God.’

  It was only then that she realized just how worried he’d been.

  And as she watched him, something stirred at the back of her mind. That day at the clinic, when she’d asked him about his sister. Did she get pregnant? Did she have to go to a – an angel-maker? Isn’t that what they call them? He had flinched as if she’d struck him. Clearly it had touched a very raw nerve. So perhaps what had happened to Evie had touched a raw nerve too. Perhaps it had brought bad memories to the surface.

  That day at Bethlehem. She remembered every detail. Belle squatting beneath the breadfruit tree with Spot. Ben turning the toy in his hands, and suddenly smiling. That brief, astounding moment when he’d kissed her for the first time.

  Suddenly she felt an enormous sadness. She thought, What children we were. And look at us now. Evie up in that cave, crying for her dead child; me stuck at Parnassus in an impossible engagement. And Ben – what about Ben?

  As he straightened up, she looked at his face. Wealth seemed to have given him authority, but it didn’t seem to have brought him either happiness or peace.

  He was hatless and dishevelled, in riding-breeches, dusty topboots and shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow. He looked just the same as he had in the old days. It was almost as if the last seven years had never happened – as if she’d simply gone riding one afternoon, and come across him up in the hills. Only the scar bisecting his eyebrow bore witness to the passage of time.

  She looked at the dark hair falling into his eyes. It seemed cruel that she could remember exactly how it felt if one brushed it aside. It was so unfair. What was the good of remembering? He clearly did not.

  There was an awkward silence. Then he said, ‘I suppose I ought to thank you for coming.’

  ‘Oh please,’ she said tartly, ‘don’t do anything just because you “ought”.’

  That seemed to surprise him. Then his lip curled. ‘I take it that this won’t cause problems for you?’

  ‘What kind of problems?’

  ‘I mean, with your – fiancé.’

  She felt herself reddening. Until that moment she’d forg
otten all about Alexander. It simply hadn’t crossed her mind that by coming here she had flouted every one of his prohibitions: not to go for long rides, not to see Evie McFarlane, and not to have anything to do with Ben Kelly. ‘There won’t be any problem,’ she said firmly. ‘Neptune was very discreet.’ She paused. ‘Speaking of Neptune, you told him to avoid Eden. Why?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m not on very good terms with your brother-in-law. As I’m sure you already know.’

  ‘As it happens, I didn’t. I don’t often see them.’ As soon as she’d said it she wished that she hadn’t. But she was tired, and the spirit of contradiction was strong in her. It always was when she was with Ben.

  As she feared, he picked up on it. ‘What do you mean, you don’t often see them?’

  ‘Just that. I haven’t been back there in a while.’

  ‘How long is a while?’

  She did not reply.

  ‘You haven’t been back since you left. Have you?’

  Damn him for jumping to the right conclusion.

  ‘Seven years,’ he said, incredulous. ‘Good God Almighty.’

  How pitiful she must seem to him. So terrified of the past that she couldn’t even bring herself to go back once for a visit. He, on the other hand, seemed to have put it all behind him with remarkable ease.

  She watched him draw out his watch and frown at it, then snap it shut. ‘It’s getting late,’ he said, standing up and brushing off his hands. ‘Neptune will be back soon with the horses. He’ll take you home.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, ‘but I think I’ll wait and help you bring Evie back.’

  ‘She isn’t coming.’

  She blinked. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She wants to stay up here till she’s better.’

  ‘What? But she can’t.’

  ‘Try telling her that.’

  ‘In a cave? But—’

  ‘Look, she doesn’t want anyone to know, especially not her own family. And in case you’ve forgotten, you’ve only got to spit in this damn country and you hit half a dozen McFarlanes or Tullochs or Parkers.’