by S M Mala
The Secret History of Hatty Ha Ha… begins
by
S M Mala
Published by S M Mala
Copyright © S M Mala 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this publication is to be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any forms or by any means, including photocopying, recording or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Visit my website: www.smmala.com or www.smmala.co.uk to see other titles.
All helpful advice and genuine comments are welcome.
Books to look out for by S M Mala:
My Mother in Law’s Lover
What he did to her
The problem of getting Rich Quik … part one
The problem of getting Rich Quik … part two
Relative Strangers
The Secret History of Hatty Ha Ha … begins
The Secret History of Hatty Ha Ha … ends
Pushing over 40
Good Vibration
Dedicated to my mother for the lingo and food… and to my granddad’s answer to most things ‘me nah know’.
One
‘Me not see anytin’,’ Hatty gasped, remembering to use her false local lingo while squeezing her eyes shut as the naked young man walked out of the fresh water pool.
She didn’t know what to do. It was the first time anyone had come to her secret hiding place plus seeing a naked white body close up. Her bedroom was in the house directly opposite his. She’d accidentally seen him walk nude in his bedroom more than a few times. But now, she was a little bit anxious and less curious. Hatty listened closely but only heard the trickling of water from the small stream. Bracing herself against the tree, she let out a nervous whimper.
‘Seriously, me not see you.’
‘I don’t care if you did,’ Jake Logan laughed and walked towards her. She pushed her head into her knees, knowing she was going so red it might look like she was going to have a heart attack. The image of his naked bronzed torso burnt into her mind. She was too scared to open her eyes should she pass out from shock. ‘How big would you say it is?’
‘Like me say, me not seen anytin’ an’ it is not up to me to comment on your personal tings,’ she mumbled, her voice trembling as she heard him laugh out loud.
Hatty liked the sound of it and tried not to smile.
‘Not my cock!’ Jake laughed. ‘The creek! Do you think it’s fifty by thirty foot?’
‘What ya doin’ ‘ere an’ it not a creek!’
Hatty took a deep breath realising she’d got the wrong end of the stick. An image of his nakedness came into her head and she buried her face deeper into her hands.
‘You can open your eyes. I’m decent.’ Slowly, she pulled her head up, prising her fingers away from her face to find him sitting next to her, flicking through her small black sketch book. She immediately grabbed it back and put it on her pile of reading material. ‘Is this your idea of studying? Falling asleep under a tree?’
‘Me tired from too much readin’,’ she shrugged, putting the small stack of books into her satchel. She then caught a glance of her dirt covered hands and recoiled in embarrassment, placing them in between her knees and squeezing her thighs tightly together, hoping he wouldn’t have noticed the muck against her brown skin. ‘Me get up early.’
Hatty knew she was having a hard time keeping up her accent to the American man, as opposed to her true English one, but her cheeks still burned.
‘You’re Delores niece aren’t you?’ Jake said, resting against the tree. Hatty noticed his bare white feet then realised his clothes were damp due to not drying properly. ‘And the gardener.’
‘I’m not… me mean, me not de only gardener. Dere are many oder gardeners who work on your father’s land. Me look after the ‘erbs and flowers but me studying as well and me name is-.’
‘Well it was nice to meet you,’ he said, quickly jumping up and grabbing his flip flops, walking away.
‘Okay,’ she said, confused by his manner but knowing he didn’t look at her the way he looked at Gina.
The young woman who worked in his father’s office and all the men wanted, with her slim lithe body and light brown skin.
The woman who hated her more than anyone else and Hatty equally loathed.
His look was full of lust with Gina, whereas he looked at Hatty as if she was odd and stupid.
Hatty glanced at her dirty grubby hands then down at her mud stained dungarees before re-plaiting her long dark hair. She wanted to shrivel up and die from embarrassment. Getting up slowly, she walked down to the fresh water pool and washed her hands then face, unbuckling her dungarees. As she bathed her arms, Hatty let out a miserable sigh as the sunshine beat against her mocha coloured skin before mumbling.
‘Ah bollocks!’
He walked away a little before turning and standing behind a tree. Jake had noticed her immediately from day one. She wasn’t like all the other girls vying for his attention, it was the opposite. She seemed to go out of her way to ignore him.
Watching her by the water, she was deep in thought and he wondered if she realised how beautiful she looked. There was something about her which made him want to find out more. It was the first time he’d seen her up close with her intense dark brown almond shaped eyes, little nose and very pouty dark pink lips. He was overwhelmed how gorgeous she was and how tiny.
On the estate all he could hear was ‘Where Hatty?’, ‘Hatty, come here!’, ‘Did ya see what Hatty done now!’ Her very name was constantly echoed. He would notice how his father smiled quietly to himself on hearing another escapade the young woman had got into. Jake pressed his father about information on her but he didn’t say much, other than keep out of her way, especially if she has shears in her hands.
When he arrived at his father’s house, Jake requested to move rooms, saying he’d prefer to see the tropical gardens. His real reason was to see the sultry beauty creating havoc on the grounds. Immediately he tried to stop himself laughing when he realised she was putting on a bad Caribbean accent. He’d heard her swear and speak clearly when he was in his room and knew she was English. The acting was more amusing to make him think she was a true local. Even his father’s dog bark had more of a Caribbean lilt.
To him, she looked like a doll with bad taste in clothes, always wearing dungarees and covered in dirt, but all the while laughing and smiling. Then his eyes examined the curve of her breasts under her white vest. He could see dark nipples through the material. Immediately, he thought of her naked. The idea of kissing and licking her all over was creating stiffening in his shorts.
Jacob wanted to get to know her much better, in every way physically possible.
‘You come here every day?’ Hatty heard, making her jump and nearly fall back into the pool as she steadied herself. ‘Sorry did I startle you?’
She turned to see Jake smiling brightly at her.
‘I…’ She quickly pulled up her dungaree straps, knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her vest.
There was a problem buckling them up. Her hands started to shake but she managed to yank them on as he walked closer.
‘So do you come here every day?’ he said, peering at her. She noticed he had little freckles on his nose and his eyes were clear green as his wet brown hair framed his face. His nose was slightly curved as was his mouth that revealed even white teeth. Hatty though
t he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen while nodding quickly. ‘I found this place by accident, when I was walking around that old house.’ Jake pointed to her old home that over looked the sea. ‘I’d never have thought there’d be a little rainforest so close by.’
‘No one come here, only me. An’ ya ‘ave ya fader pool back ‘ome,’ she eventually said and smiled in the direction of the house. ‘Me tink that place is the most wonderful thing in the world.’
‘It’s old and run down. Dad says he can’t wait to pull it down and-.’
‘No!’ she exclaimed, stepping forward, alarmed at the thought. ‘Mister Murray can’t do that. It’s -.’
‘He wanted my mother to live there, apparently, and then she goes and kills herself. It has bad memories,’ Jake shrugged and she was taken aback for a moment on how easy those words trickled from his lips.
‘I sorry,’ she whispered, feeling more upset on hearing him say it. ‘Me know Mister Murray wife died a long time ago.’
‘He probably hasn’t even noticed,’ he smiled and Hatty wondered what went on in his handsome head.
‘That’s not a nice thing to say, he’s a very kind man,’ she frowned, shaking her arms of excess water and walking towards the tree, feeling protective over his father.
‘I forget your mother died when you were a baby so we have something in common.’
‘Having dead parents is nothing to celebrate,’ she replied solemnly, agitated he knew this information.
‘How did your father die?’
‘You probably know the story,’ Hatty sniffed, realising gossips had bent his ear. ‘Everyone knows.’
‘I don’t.’
‘Me father left me moder when they married and then she die. Aunt Delores raised-.’
‘Aunt Delores, who’s not really your aunt, but is my father’s housekeeper and other things,’ he added. She glared at him for a second. ‘Though everyone calls everyone aunt and uncle around here, which I find a little confusing.’
‘Mark of respect but if someone call me auntie me punch ‘em in da face!’
‘And why are you calling me ‘Master Logan’, my name is Jake. All this ‘master’ and ‘mister’ is pretty old fashioned.’
‘Dey tink de white Americans like it because of ‘Roots’, ya know Chicken George?’ Hatty bit hard on her bottom lip, trying not to laugh at the horror on his face, before putting on her American accent. ‘We is all slave to da white man.’ He smiled at her and shook his head. ‘And far ya information, Aunt Delores was me mother’s best friend and she run ya father’s home when he not on the island,’ she corrected and noticed Jake’s half smile. ‘Daddy went off and me found out when me was ten, he died in a prison cell, drunk, a year after mummy passed away. Don’t know where he buried.’ There was a moment’s silence as she looked away, trying not to think about it. ‘No one wanted to tell me before then.’
‘You speak…’ he let out a little laugh. ‘Well, you don’t have a proper accent like the others. It’s a bit British, actually it’s very British.’
‘No such thing as British. Britain made up of different countries but me not expect an American boy to know dat, aye?’
‘English.’
‘Dey ‘ave different accents around de land.’
‘London.’
He narrowed his eyes at her and she sheepishly smiled.
‘My aunt tried to teach me to speak properly, since she lived in England for a while. I was there for the first ten years of me life,’ she said, dropping the accent for a second, seeing this caused some amusement as he tried not to laugh. ‘Ya tink me shod speak like dis cos me black?’
‘You’re the colour of chocolate.’
‘Me insulted! Ya call me coloured! Does dat mean ya tink me blue?’ She smirked as he shook his head from side to side and smiled.
‘You don’t look African American,’ he whispered. ‘Or African. You look Asian.’
‘Ya callin’ me Chinese?’ Hatty laughed and shook her head. ‘Me Indian descendent, wid oder tings. A bit of a mash up.’
‘You haven’t answered my question. Do you come here every day?’
‘Master Logan. I come here every day since me was a child. I plant this tree,’ she smiled, looking up at him, admiring the trunk and her blatant lie. ‘When I was ten, me put it in the ground and it grow big and strong. No one come here and please don’t tell anyone about it.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ he said, looking straight at her. ‘Why doesn’t anyone else know about this little oasis?’
‘They see the sand, the sea, the beautiful coast. They don’t want to see this little thing and no one comes to the old house because of tings. This place is something you’d not expect to find. They all looking for the obvious beach holiday,’ Hatty smiled. ‘It only I who see this place. I who know it here. And now you. Please don’t say anything Master Logan.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Why?’
‘Just asking.’
‘I’m twenty two years old. A year older than you,’ she said smugly.
‘Christ, you’re that old!’ he laughed. ‘You look about eighteen!’
‘Me ‘ave good genetics,’ she said, putting her nose in the air. ‘Ya think me young cos me short?’
‘You dress like a scruffy little boy.’
‘Me dress ‘ow me want!’
‘And you’re not married?’
‘Why should I be? It not the only thing to do on de island, ya know. It da twenty first century,’ she said, affronted by his question. ‘Me don’t want to be a wife. Me want a career and life of me own. Dere’s only one person me want to marry but…’ Hatty looked away knowing she’d said too much.
‘But what?’
‘‘e said I’d only make meself miserable if me did marry he,’ she said glumly, remembering the numerous conversations with Philip. ‘And himself very miserable too. Said sumtin like, me make ‘is life a misery.’ She shrugged, looking at the laughing man in front of her. ‘Ya tink dat funny? Bein’ rejected?’
‘At least he’s honest,’ he sighed. ‘Is that why you’re studying, to get away from this island?’
Jake smiled brightly and she could tell he thought she was like the others, trying to escape the tropical paradise for a so called ‘better life’ in the western world.
‘You live and just graduated from college in New York,’ she said, letting slip her false accent. ‘Your father’s a rich man who practically owns the island, building hotels here there and everywhere. You want for nothing. You can come here and play your games with the girls and then go home, forget about them.’ Hatty noticed he immediately frowned before going back to her act. ‘Me ‘ave to work for your father to pay me way to live and to study. No one give me anything for free. And no, me don’t want to leave this place. It me home since we moved back twelve year ago. I want to be a teacher and help others to learn about books. Many people can’t read on the island. You know there are 83,291 people who live here. Many had to work from when they were knee high. We all not had your opportunity, certainly not me.’
‘Seriously?’ he said unconvinced.
‘Seriously,’ she lied.
‘You’re not aiming to bag a rich man to take you to the world outside?’
‘No man will be ever good enough for my heart, now me been rejected,’ Hatty replied and was met with a very wide grin. ‘So, me destined to be a spinster, like me Aunt Delores. And she very happy.’ She bent down knowing her Aunt was far from happy with her and picked up the satchel, putting across her shoulders. ‘Goodbye Master Logan. If you want to know me name is-.’
‘Harriet Harris,’ Jake said, tilting his head to one side, still smiling. ‘‘Ha Ha Hatty’ I hear they call you.’
‘That’s not funny!’
Harriet turned around and walked quickly away, ducking under the leaves toward the pathway that led up to the house, getting furious with his comment about her name.
‘I think it’s very sweet,’ he said,
following her as she shook her head with annoyance. ‘I mean Harriet Harris is effectively ‘Ha Ha’.’
‘They call me ‘Ha Ha’…’ she said, stopping immediately and turning to look up at him, trying hard to control her temper. ‘…because they laugh at my voice because my aunt taught me to speak properly and me was raise in England wid dis voice. They laugh at me because I like to wear dungarees. I not a stupid girl who goes with the first man to show her interest, spread herself like some tart.’ Hatty knew she was getting angry and her words were going all over the place, let alone her crap accent. She took in a deep breath remembering to try and keep her local twang. ‘Me let them call me ‘Ha Ha Hatty’ because it make them feel they are better than me. Me just amuse them and me don’t fit in. But me don’t care because me like me, even if they don’t. And there’s nothing wrong with being different.’
‘I thought they called you ‘Ha Ha Hatty’ because you’re a little strange.’
‘Me not strange!’
‘When I was told you’re paranoid about getting bitten by mosquito.’ Jake leaned closer and sniffed her as she pulled away. ‘Hence the stench of repellent on your skin.’
‘Me like the smell!’
‘An acquired taste,’ he said, scrunching his nose. ‘Then, with all your funny things, like you do the gardening for my father, I had to laugh.’
‘Why that funny?’ she scowled, realising she washed off the mosquito repellent from her arms.
Hatty pushed back the need to pull out her spray and cover her skin for protection from the nasty bugs.
‘I think gardening was the last thing you’d want to do.’
‘I like it,’ she said, through gritted teeth.
‘And why do you eat your meals from a large cup?’
‘It not any business of yours!’ she snapped angrily, momentarily shocked he knew about her quirk.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he said, looking genuinely concerned before smiling again.
‘Please don’t tell anyone you came here,’ she said anxiously. ‘Me don’t want people to know where I hide.’
