HF - 05 - Sunset (56 page)

'Well, Mistress Paterson, the fact is
...'
Washington shifted his feet uneasily. 'That Mr Courtney, you see, he done ask me, like he ask Massie and them others, what we did talk about while we looking for Miss Meg, and well, Mistress Paterson, we is under oath and that thing, and we had to say well, Mr Billy saying, all the time we looking for

Miss Meg, I knowing where she is gone, she gone to them black people what does beat the drum, and you knowing what I goin' do when I catch up with them, this is he talkin' you understanding,
I
goin' blow them head right off.'

'You bastard,' Oriole said. 'You unutterable bastard.'

Washington shifted his feet some more. But he was looking
at
Meg as he spoke. 'Man, Mistress Paterson, we did be under oath and thing. And then, what happen, the Judge he addressing the jury, and he saying, all you got for decide is what Mr Billy thinkin' in he mind when he goin' after Miss Meg, whether he thinkin' well I got for get me wife back, or whether he is thinkin' goddam I goin' kill the boy what she is with. That is the crux of the matter, the Judge saying, and then, seeing as how it is five o'clock, he saying well,
I
goin' adjourn this here court until tomorrow, while you does consider your verdict.' This time he paused to wipe his brow.

'So what happened ?' Meg asked.

'Well, Miss Meg, the foreman of that jury, and he a white man, too, he standing up and he saying, well, they been whisperin' to one another one time, while them lawyers did be speaking, so he saying, well, Mr Judge, he saying, we ain' got no need for to be lock' up for the night, because we done make up we mind already. Now how is that? askin' the Judge. But they ain' budging, so he for ask them, and they saying that they reckon Mr Billy did be thinkin' all the time that he goin' shoot whoever he finding you with, and that is that. So the Judge done pronounce Mr Billy guilty, and saying then, I ain' goin' adjourn this court, I goin' say sentence.'

'Oh, my God.' Oriole sank to the chair.

'Is a fac', Mistress Paterson, he saying the same thing, about God and thing. But then he putting on he black cap and he sayin' that Mr Billy mus' be hangin' from the neck until he does be dead.'

'Oh, my God,' Oriole moaned. 'Oh, my God. Meg, what are we to do?'

Meg gazed at her for a moment. But what was
she
to do about Alan, who thought she had lied to him, who supposed she had betrayed everything he held dear?

'Washington,' she snapped. 'Saddle me a horse. Quickly.'

Washington scratched his head. 'You goin' to town, Miss Meg? Man, it is very late, and I does be too weary.'

'I'll ride alone,' she said. 'Just get me a horse. Quickly, man.' She pushed him through the door, reached for her gown.

'Meg.' Oriole attempted to grasp her arm. 'What can you do ? Appeal. Oh, yes, we'll appeal. But Walter will already have thought of that.'

'Billy is guilty of murder, Oriole,' Meg pointed out. She abandoned the idea of trying to put on her hat - her hair was loose in any event, and it would take half an hour to put it up - pulled on her gloves, went to the door.

'Meg
...'
Oriole wailed.

Meg hesitated. But she did not have the heart to order her from the plantation, at this moment. She closed the door behind her, ran down the stairs; she would not look at the portraits this night. Washington was already at the front steps, with a saddled horse.

'Man, Miss Meg,' he said. 'In this dark, you can' go so by yourself.'

'Of course I can, Washington,' she said. 'Who'd molest Meg Hilton?' Who indeed, she wondered. She sat astride, urged the horse forward, thundered along the roadway out of the plantation and up into the hills, had to remind herself to slow to a walk, as there was a long way yet to go.

She preferred not to think. What she would do if the
Dreamer
was no longer in the harbour, she just did not know. Because this time he would not come back. This time he would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that a Hilton could not throw off the burden of his or her past; that the name, the family, the plantation, would always dominate every other thought, every other hope, every other fear, every other emotion. As it had done to her, for all of her life.

The clock was striking twelve when she walked her exhausted horse into a sleeping, darkened city. A beat policeman peered
at
her, but she ignored him and walked on to the waterfront. She stared at the harbour; there were several ships moored out there; an American naval squadron was visiting Jamaica, and in the darkness they were no more than a cluster of lights. She dismounted, left her horse standing, walked to the edge of the nearest dock, stared again. But it was quite impossible to identify any ship.

'Eh-eh,' remarked a voice. 'But is Mistress Hilton?'

She turned, peered at the black man, a sailor by his clothes. 'You know me ?'

'Well, I got for know Mistress Hilton,' he pointed out. 'I see you in court today. You lookin' for the Captain?'

Her heart gave a tremendous bound, which threatened to choke her. 'Captain McAvoy? He is still here?'

'Oh, yes, mistress. He come aboard last evening, and he sayin' we must prepare for sea, but we can' sail until we is loaded, mistress, and that can' be until tomorrow.'

'Then he's aboard ?' Meg cried. 'Take me out, please. I'll see you are well rewarded.'

'Well, mistress, I goin' take you out if that is what you wish, but the Captain ain' aboard.'

'What? Where is he?'

The seaman shifted his feet. 'Well, mistress, he sayin' he got for have a drink, and he comin' back ashore. I did bring he.'

'And now you're waiting to take him back?'

'Ay, well, no, mistress. The fact is
...'
Again the feet did a quick shuffle. 'He did be drink so much he did pass out, mistress. So I did think the best thing is to put him to bed like.'

'Where? Please tell me.'

'Well, is the last
place we was at, mistress. Blad
ings' Hotel, like.'

'Bladings? Oh, thank you. Thank you. I shall see that you are rewarded.' She ran for her horse.

'But Mistress Hilton,' the sailor called. 'The Captain
...
well, he did drink a lot of rum. And he did speak against you, Mistress Hilton.'

She turned the horse, walked it up the street. He did speak against you, Mistress Hilton. And he was drunk. Then perhaps he would beat her, as Billy had done on their honeymoon. Perhaps he would also wish to throttle her. Unlike Billy, once Alan's fingers wrapped themselves around her throat, there would be no letting go.

She dismounted before Bladings, and the major-domo hurried down the steps to peer at her. 'Mistress Hilton?' He fumbled in his fob.

'It is just midnight,' Meg said. 'Captain McAvoy is staying here, I believe.'

'Well, he is here, Mistress Hilton. We did give him a room for the night. But Mistress Hilton
...'

'I'd be much obliged if you'd stable my horse, give it water and oats.' She walked up the sta
irs, pu
lling off her gloves, pushing hair from her forehead and eyes. The night clerk peered at her in turn.

'Mistress Hilton?'

'Good evening to you,' she said. 'Which room has Captain McAvoy ?'

'Captain McAvoy? Why, Mistress Hilton, I really could not
..
.
’

'Or shall I try every one in turn?' Meg inquired. 'Oh, my God. Oh, no, Mistress Hilton, you couldn't do that.'

'Watch me,' Meg said, and turned for the stairs. 'Number thirty-nine, Mistress Hilton,' the clerk called. 'Third floor. Number thirty-nine.' Then give me your pass key.'

'Yes, Mistress Hilton.' He gave her the key, watched her walk across the lobby, scrabbled for the house phone.

Meg climbed the stairs slowly. How her heart pounded. And how simple it was to act the Hilton, to leave everyone scandalized and immobilized before her utter arrogance, her total determination to have what she wanted when she wanted it. How little did they suspect the uncertainties which lurked beneath that mask of omnipotence.

On the second floor she met Charlie Blading coming down. 'Mrs Hilton? Do you know..

"That it is midnight, Charles? I do. But do
you
know that these stairs are uncommonly steep? When are you going to fit an elevator?'

Blading gaped at her. 'When
...
when I have the funds to install electricity, to be sure, Mrs Hilton.'

'You have high tension wires attached to your roof.'

'A convenience for the Electricity Company. To bring it right through the hotel would cost a fortune, money I just have not got in these troubled times. But really, madam, Meg, I must protest, this is not a
...
well
...'

'A brothel, you were going to say,' Meg said. 'Well, I hope it is not. But Captain McAvoy and I have been lovers for a very long time, Charles. You could not possibly describe this as an overnight affair, or even a clandestine one. And I do propose to see him tonight.'

'Yes, well
...'
Blading pulled his nose.

'And we will be quiet about it, I promise you.' Meg climbed the next flight of stairs, reached the third floor, paused to regain her breath. Blading did not follow her. Poor man, he must have already cursed the day Meg Hilton had followed Lord Claymond in here. Or had it really been good for his business?

Very gently she inserted the key in the lock, turned it, pushed the door inwards. The bedroom was utterly dark, and she waited in the doorway for some seconds while her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and to allow the light from the corridor to enter. The third floor contained only single rooms, and not the most expensive in the house either. The furnishings were sparse, a table and two chairs, a wash-stand with a china basin and ewer, and a tin slop bucket. And a single bed, over which the mosquito netting had not been dropped, and across which there lay the body of a man, breathing heavily, and still dressed. He even wore his boots.

It was
Margarita
all over again. How she wanted it to be the
Margarita
all over again, but with the right to change the course of their
lives, to make them wiser, to eli
minate all the misery that had happened since.

But she could not undress him in the dark without wakening him. And besides, she wanted to see his face. She took the candlestick into the corridor, lit it from one of the wall lights returned it to its holder. Then she locked the bedroom door on the inside.

Alan gave a gentle snore, half turned, and fell onto his face again. Gently she rolled him on his back. He had loosened his neck tie, and now she removed it altogether before starting work on his boots. It took her only a short while to undress him completely, and then she lay beside him. Surprisingly, she felt no great surge of passion. He was her man. He had been her man since their earliest days, and throughout all their quarrels and their separations, their triumphs and their tragedies, she had always known that he was hers, as she was his. And now she had come home for the last time.

She nestled her head on his shoulder, kissed him on the cheek, and felt his arm suddenly tighten as he awoke. 'Meg ?' he whispered. 'Meg ?'

She kissed him on the mouth.
‘I
am here, my darling. I am here. That is all that is important. Unless you wish me to leave.'

'Oh, Meg
...'
His hands slid over her back, and then suddenly clenched her shoulders to move her a few inches away. 'Have you heard the verdict?'

'Washington brought it out to Hilltop. Billy will appeal.'

Alan shook his head. 'There will be no appeal.'

'But he has been condemned to death.'

'There will still be no appeal. An appeal can only be allowed on a question of law, or a question of fact. Billy was properly tried, and Sir Harry was entirely correct in his summing up. While no one can dispute the facts.'

'My God.' She sat up, allowed her legs to droop to the floor. 'He'll be hanged.' 'I'm afraid he will. For murder, Meg.' 'And despite my cowardice.'
'Was
it cowardice?'

She glanced at him, looked away again. 'I had never supposed that a part of your character,' he said.

‘
You supposed that my upbringing, my background, my ancestors, rose up and choked off my words,' she said.

'Did they not? I saw the way you looked at them as you descended the stairs yesterday morning.'

'True,' she said. 'But it will not happen again.'

'Oh, Meg, Meg,' he said, holding her arms again, and attempting to bring her forward. 'A man is what he was bora to be. As is a woman. You were bora a Hilton. You w
ere born
to be Mistress of Hilltop. Nothing you wish, nothing I can say, will ever alter that fact. While Hilltop stands, you will be its mistress
...'

'No,' she said. 'I decided on my ride into town. I will place it in the hands of an attorney, and leave for ever. Now. We will go to England, so that I may see Richard and Aline, and then I am yours, my darling. If you still want me.'