Page 34 of The Cruise

To her surprise, Jane found that she was beginning to enjoy herself. The Red Belly cake had left her with a delicious feeling of contentment, and Toots was an excellent guide. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, she liked the attention she was receiving.

Selwyn watched the boats in the water and asked about the harbour’s lively activity. Toots said it was the main commercial port of the Grenadines and the centre of the island’s agricultural industry. Jane felt history ooze from every brick of the impressive colonial buildings as she stared at the ancient warehouses, which seemed to come alive as Toots described what the bustling area would have been like centuries ago. She imagined being a visitor to Kingstown in the 1700s and witnessing the varied lives of its inhabitants. Goods such as sugar, rum, tobacco, and coffee would be packed into barrels and loaded onto ships bound for Europe and North America. Toots said that the port had been home to sailors, shopkeepers, merchants, and artisans, and Jane could almost hear the hustle and bustle of ghosts from a bygone age.

She was silent as Toots described how over four million Africans were brought to the islands of the Caribbean. She gripped Selwyn’s arm when Toots told of newspaper advertisements announcing the arrival of shiploads of Africans who were unloaded into holding facilities on the quayside. Jane could almost hear their haunted voices crying out. She visualised the human prisons and felt tears falling onto her cheeks as she thought of the terrified arrivals awaiting their fate.

Silently, Selwyn touched her cheek and gently wiped her tears away.

They walked through dark winding alleys to the centre of the town, and again, Jane felt pleased that she wasn’t alone. Kath had been right.

Soon, they were in the market square, where an eclectic display of stalls spread out to all corners. Jane was in awe as she walked alongside mountains of colourful fruit and ripe vegetables stacked in crates and displayed on tables, spilling onto the ground. Eddoes, sweet potatoes, yams, breadfruit, and guavas sat alongside coconuts, passion fruits, fig bananas, and pineapples. Toots told her that the island’s rich volcanic soil was perfect for growing produce, and the crops had recovered quickly after the volcanic eruption earlier in the year.

‘Nature is miraculous,’ Jane said and marvelled at its restorative powers as she studied a large selection of differently shaped bananas. Toots explained there were more than a hundred and twenty varieties.

A lady wearing a hessian apron over a cotton dress sat by a cart loaded with herbs and spices. Her head was wrapped in swathes of vibrant fabric. ‘Yo! Lady!’ she called out and, waving her fleshy arm, insisted that Jane smell and taste her produce.

‘I’m tempted to buy one of everything,’ Jane said to Selwyn as she made her purchases. ‘It’s all so fresh.’ She watched as the vendor weighed cardamom, sage, and cinnamon, then twisted the items into little parcels.

‘I think that you are a very good cook,’ he replied, ‘your friend Kath has told me that you were excellent at your job. It must have been fascinating to work in television with so many famous chefs.’

Jane wondered when Kath had found the time to have such an in-depth conversation with Selwyn. He seemed to know far more about her circumstances than she remembered telling him.

‘I hope you’ll cook for me one day,’ Selwyn said.

It wasn’t a question, more of an observation, as though Selwyn took it for granted that their paths would cross again after the cruise. Flustered, she packed her purchases into her bag as the butterflies began to dance in her stomach. Jane’s face flushed, and she turned away.

‘I fancy a rum,’ Toots announced.

‘Sounds good,’ Selwyn agreed.

Jane wasn’t sure that rum in the morning would be good but, not wanting to part from her guides, she stood alongside as Toots asked a local where to go.

‘Go all the way down de alley, till you get to four rude boys liming on de block,’ the wizened old man explained. ‘You’ll see a garage, don’t turn there, make a right and you’ll see a green door. That’s not it. Go straight. It’s the red house with a dunk tree out front.’

Jane was goggle-eyed. She hadn’t a clue about what the man said, but Toots seemed to know where they were going. She clutched Selwyn’s arm as they set off and felt hot and uncomfortable when they picked up their pace. What must he think of this lumbering woman hanging on to his arm?

The street was dark and claustrophobic, and rubbish littered the pavements. Several mangy cats scrapped on fish carcasses from an overflowing bin. A woman in a leather miniskirt stood in a doorway. She was smoking as she watched them approach and Jane noticed that the woman’s wig hung to one side, and her lips were smudged with deep red gloss. She made a clicking noise with her teeth as they went by.

A Rastafarian stepped out from behind the woman and fell into step with Toots. They spoke quietly, and Jane couldn’t hear their conversation. In moments they arrived back at the harbour, on the industrial side, and were guided into a little bar, where they sat on plastic chairs around a rickety table. Jane stared at her surroundings through a smoke-filled haze. The bar was dark, and Toots explained that the owner didn’t put the lights on to save money. She realised she was still holding onto Selwyn’s arm, but as he adjusted his position, his hand slid into her own.

‘The real Kingstown,’ he said and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, you’re quite safe.’

Selwyn’s hand felt warm and strong, and despite the instinct to pull away, Jane gripped it tightly.

A man approached. He had long grey dreadlocks and a goatee beard and walked barefoot with a crooked limp. Tattoos covered most of his skin. Fist-bumping Toots, he said his name was Spirit and announced that he was the unofficial marijuana ambassador for Saint Vincent and the Grenadine islands. His voice was low and husky. Pulling out a chair, he sat down to explain that a bullet had lodged in his throat during an assassination attempt on the Attorney General. It was still there. After a spell in prison, his innocence was proved, and he opened this rum shop.

Jane was gobsmacked. Spirit’s frankness felt like too much information, and her mouth fell open as she studied the jagged scar on his neck. He wore shorts to his knees, and a cut-away vest and Jane stared at the tattoo on his back. It was the head of a lion and beautifully etched, the eyes soulful and soft. She watched as he summoned the Rasta who’d led them to the bar. A tray of drinks was produced, and they all took a glass.

‘This rum is the finest in the Grenadines,’ Spirit said. ‘It’s called Sunset, and it’s illegal to sell it off the islands.’

Jane watched as Selwyn, Spirit, and Toots drank a shot. She held her glass to her nose. The rum was dark and velvety and wanting to keep up with her companions, Jane raised it to her lips and knocked it back.

Time seemed to stand still. For what felt like an eternity, Jane’s body was paralysed.

‘Dear God…’she whispered to Selwyn as her blood began to flow again, ‘whatwas that?’

‘Sunset is eighty-seven per cent proof,’ he replied, ‘which is why it can’t be exported.’

‘For a moment I thought I’d experienced my final sunset,’ Jane muttered.

---