Abdication: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

her bed, too hot to tolerate a nightdress, as her father had pulled up a chair beside her. Only May had known that those bedtime stories were accompanied by a “little nip,” the term of endearment, or so Duncan made it sound, that he reserved for those sneaky tots, upended in one swift movement into his mouth from the silver flask he kept in the pocket of his cream-tea planter’s jacket.
    “Just one little nip to oil the wheels before we get going,” Duncan would whisper through the gap in his teeth, half speaking to himself, his small bloodshot eyes looking down at May’s body in her bed, as soon as he heard Edith’s shoes receding down the stairs.
    “Our little secret,” he would say, as May tried to conceal her instinct to draw back at the moment when he began to trail his fingers through her hair, his dirty and broken nails snagging as they made their way down through her ponytail, towards her back, flicking the familiar switch of alarm. But May’s mother had suspected nothing and May had been too frightened to tell anyone, feeling that Duncan’s behaviour must somehow be her fault.
    As May grew too old for the bedtime stories, Duncan left her alone, staying away from the plantation for nights at a time and reappearing with no explanation for his absence. A few years later he had seemed genuinely pleased by May’s interest in learning to drive the plantation car and by her cautious acceptance of his offer to teach her. Her skill behind the wheel led to her employment as the official plantation driver. But during the driving lessons Duncan would stroke the back of her head as May, powerless to stop him, gripped the wheel in revulsion. He would put his hand on her knee as she worked the pedals at her feet. He would appear through the high stalks of sugarcane when she was out talking to one of the women in the fields and offer to walk her home, or he would think of a reason to accompany her on her weekly trips to the bank and the post office in nearby Speightstown. May became practised at avoiding him but she knew that however much she tried to protect herself, one day he would succeed in crossing the final boundary. In the end it had been Sam’s persistent pursuit of his naval ambitions that had opened up the opportunity for escape and freedom.
    In the very early days of January 1936, May and Sam Thomas stepped off the ship, up onto the high Liverpool quayside at Albert Dock. May shivered beneath the inadequacy of her thin, cotton coat. The pale blue, summer-flimsy material had been perfectly suited to the warm climate back home, wrapped around her narrow shoulders by her mother before she had pulled her daughter close to her and kissed her goodbye. But May had been quite unprepared for this feeling of real English coldness. Not only was her skin cold to the touch, but she felt as if her blood had stopped pumping round her body altogether.
    From the warmth of her bed in Mrs. Cage’s house, May thought back over the past few weeks. At home the brightness of the overhead sun could dazzle with a light that filtered scarlet through closed eyelids. But on that first day in Liverpool, the greyness of the early morninghad given her the illusion that nighttime was already falling. The sky hung so low that it appeared to be collapsing onto the Pier Head.
    Sam knew his way around the dock from his previous trips to Liverpool. He had tucked his sister’s right hand into that of his own glove and, joined together in that manner, they walked along the vast quayside. The grey water, until so recently their exclusive landscape, had vanished behind the frosty sea mist that rose above the huge harbour walls. The walkway was thick with people, almost all men, all travelling in different directions. The level of noise was nearly as hard to tolerate as the freezing air. Men pushed carts so precariously laden with vegetables and fruit that the weight caused the carts to weave uncontrollably from side to side. Warehouse workers