Page 143 of A Column of Fire
‘Yes, please.’
‘Come with me. I want to show you the best way to drink it.’
She led him to the far end of the yard. She picked small pale-green limes from the trees and handed them to him. Barney watched her, mesmerized. All her movements were fluid and graceful. She stopped when he was holding a dozen or so of the fruits. ‘You have big hands,’ she said. Then she looked more closely. ‘But damaged. What happened?’
‘Scorch marks,’ he said. ‘I used to be a gunner in the Spanish army. It’s like being a cook – you’re always getting minor burns.’
‘Shame,’ she said. ‘Makes your hands ugly.’
Barney smiled. She was sassy, but he liked that.
He followed her into the house. Her living room had a floor of beaten earth, and the furniture was evidently home-made, but she had brightened the place with bougainvillea blossom and colourful cushions. There was no sign of a husband: no boots in the corner, no sword hanging from a hook, no tall, feathered hat. She pointed to a crude wooden chair and Barney sat down.
Bella took two tall glasses from a cupboard. Barney was surprised: glass was an expensive luxury. But selling rum was her business, and all drinks tasted better out of glassware.
She took the limes from him and halved them with a knife, then squeezed their juice into a pottery jug. She knew he was staring at her, and did not seem to mind.
She put an inch of rum into each glass, stirred in a spoonful of sugar, then topped up the glasses with lime juice.
Barney took a glass and sipped. It was the most delicious drink he had ever tasted. ‘Oh, my soul,’ he said. ‘That really is the best way to take it.’
‘Shall I send some rum to theHawkthis afternoon? My best is half an escudo for a thirty-four gallon barrel.’
That was cheap, Barney thought; about the same price as beer in Kingsbridge. Presumably molasses cost next to nothing on this sugar-growing island. ‘Make it two barrels,’ he said.
‘Done.’
He sipped more of the zesty drink. ‘How did you get started in this business?’
‘When my mother was dying, Don Alfonso offered her anything she wanted. She asked him to give me my freedom and set me up with some way of making a living.’
‘And he came up with this.’
She laughed, opening her mouth wide. ‘No, he suggested needlework. The rum was my idea. And you? What brought you to Hispaniola?’
‘It was an accident.’
‘Really?’
‘Well, more a series of accidents.’
‘How so?’
Barney thought of Sancho in Seville, theJosé y María, the killing of Ironhand Gómez, the raft down the river Leie, the Wolman family in Antwerp, and Captain Bacon’s deceit. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’d love to hear it.’
‘And I’d love to tell you, but I’m needed on board ship.’
‘Does the captain ever give you time off?’
‘In the evenings, usually.’
‘If I make you supper, will you tell me your story?’
Barney’s heart beat faster. ‘All right.’
‘Tonight?’
