Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys [7]
I left a light on the chair by my bed and waited for Christophine, for I like to see her last thing. But she did not come, and as the candle burned down, the safe peaceful feeling left me. I wished I had a big Cuban dog to lie by my bed and protect me, I wish I had not heard a noise by the bamboo clump, or that I were very young again, for then I believe in my stick. It was not a stick, but a long narrow piece of wood, with two nails sticking out at the end, a shingle, perhaps. I picked it up soon after they killed our horse and I thought I can fight with this, if the worse comes to the worst I can fight to the end though the best ones fall and that is another song. Christophine knocked the nails out, but she let me keep the shingle and I grew very fond of it, I believed that no one could harm me when it was near me, to lose it would be a great misfortune. All this was long ago, when I was still babyish and sure that everything was alive, not only the river or the rain, but chairs, looking-glasses, cups, saucers, everything.
I woke up and it was still night and my mother was there. She said, ‘Get up and dress yourself, and come downstairs quickly.’ She was dressed, but she had not put up her hair and one of her plaits was loose. ‘Quickly,’ she said again, then she went into Pierre’s room, next door. I heard her speak to Myra and I heard Myra answer her. I lay there, half asleep, looking at the lighted candle on the chest of drawers, till I heard a noise as though a chair had fallen over in the little room, then I got up and dressed.
The house was on different levels. There were three steps down from my bedroom and Pierre’s to the dining-room and then three steps from the dining-room to the rest of the house, which we called ‘downstairs’. The folding doors of the dining-room were not shut and I could see that the big drawing-room was full of people. Mr Mason, my mother, Christophine and Mannie and Sass. Aunt Cora was sitting on the blue sofa in the corner now, wearing a black silk dress, her ringlets were carefully arranged. She looked very haughty, I thought. But Godfrey was not there, or Myra, or the cook, or any of the others.
‘There is no reason to be alarmed,’ my stepfather was saying as I came in. ‘A handful of drunken negroes.’ He opened the door leading to the glacis and walked out. ‘What is all this,’ he shouted. ‘What do you want?’ A horrible noise swelled up, like animals howling, but worse. We heard stones falling on to the glacis. He was pale when he came in again, but he tried to smile as he shut and bolted the door. ‘More of them than I thought, and in a nasty mood too. They will repent in the morning. I foresee gifts of tamarinds in syrup and ginger sweets tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow will be too late,’ said Aunt Cora, ‘too late for ginger sweets or anything else.’ My mother was not listening to either of them. She said, ‘Pierre is asleep and Myra is with him, I thought it better to leave him in his own room, away from this horrible noise. I don’t know. Perhaps.’ She was twisting her hands together, her wedding ring fell off and rolled into a corner near the steps. My stepfather and Mannie both stooped for it, then Mannie straightened up and said, ‘Oh, my God, they get at the back, they set fire to the back of the house.’ He pointed to my bedroom which I had shut after me, and smoke was rolling out from underneath
I did no see my mother move she was so quick. She opened the door of my room and then again I did not see her, nothing but smoke. Mannie ran after her, so did Mr Mason but more slowly. Aunt Cora put her arms round me. She said, ‘Don’t be afraid, you are quite safe. We are all quite safe.’ Just for a moment I shut my eyes and rested my head against her shoulder. She smelled of vanilla, I remember. Then there was another smell, of burned hair, and I looked and my mother was in the room carrying Pierre. It was her loose hair that had burned and was smelling like that.