Far From Home by Valerie Wood Read Free Book Online Page B

ladies. They’ll want him at their balls and parties.’ He gave Allen a wink. ‘They’ll not want you though, unless it’s to serve on table.’ He wagged a finger. ‘You could do well. They’d like that, having an Englishman waiting on them.’
    Allen took a deep breath, paid him with the money Newmarch had given him and walked out seething. Was there still a class system, then? Even here? Did breeding matter? I thought that only money talked. It does, I’m sure of it, and I intend to do plenty of talking.
    Next day they boarded the
Mississippi Girl
, a paddle steamer. After Allen had unpacked Newmarch’s luggage in his cabin he went below, taking with him the meat he had just bought, labelled with Edward Newmarch’s name. A tall, thickset Negro was pulling on a white coat over his cotton shirt and trousers and he looked up as Allen came down the companionway. ‘Yes, sir?’ he said.
    ‘I’m looking for the cook,’ Allen said briefly. ‘I need this meat cooking now.’
    ‘Guess I’m the cook, sir,’ the man drawled and gazed at Allen with dark placid eyes. He pointed to the table in the middle of the room where other provisions were laid. ‘Put the meat down there. I’ll cook it as soon as the boiler is hot.’
    Allen was curious. ‘Are you from New Orleans?’
    The man’s face closed up and he looked down his wide nose. ‘I ain’t from nowhere, sir. I just go where the cap’n tells me.’
    ‘What? Are you not a free man?’
    ‘No, sir, I ain’t.’ The fellow started to sort out the parcels of food on the table. ‘And I shouldn’t be talking to you, sir, though I guess if you’re from a foreign country you wouldn’t know that.’
    ‘But if you’re a cook, you’ll get a wage? A salary?’
    ‘No, sir. Ah just get my bed, my food and my clothes.’
    ‘But there’s no slavery in the North,’ Allen insisted. ‘Couldn’t you just get off the ship here in New York?’
    ‘Then what’d I do? Nobody would give me a job. They don’t like niggers in New York. No, sir. Besides, my boss’d come looking for me.’
    And I thought I was badly done by, Allen reflected as he went back to the upper deck. But at least if I decided to leave, nobody would chase after me and bring me back. He was sobered by the thought of the big black man who looked so strong that nobody would want to meddle with him, and yet who was captive and weak in that he couldn’t be called free.
    We’ve abolished slavery in England, but never having seen a slave, I haven’t really thought or cared about it before. And here’s one right in front of me. It doesn’t seem a fair system, he pondered. This isn’t a free country after all.
    ‘I’ve just met a slave, sir.’ Allen took Newmarch’s supper to him as they sailed out of New York harbour towards the Atlantic once again, where they would turn towards the coast of Florida. ‘He’s the cook.’
    ‘Good God!’ Edward looked down at his supper tray. ‘Are they allowed to cook? Is he clean?’ He sniffed at his plate. ‘What can I smell? Something spicy! Is this my meat?’
    ‘Yes, sir, yes, sir, and yes, sir. It’s your ham and the spice is cloves, with oregano. The cook told me,’ he added as Newmarch looked up suspiciously. ‘It’s a Creole dish.’
    ‘What else?’ Newmarch poked about in the food with his fork. ‘What’s this red stuff?’
    ‘Chillies, sir. They’ll be hot. And garlic.’
    Newmarch took a small bite. ‘They use these spicy ingredients to disguise bad meat, you know.’
    ‘Yes, sir. The butcher said we should eat the meat before we get to New Orleans or the heat will rot it.’
    Newmarch took another bite and chewed. ‘Tastes all right,’ he considered. ‘Quite good, in fact. Right, we’ll eat meat every day for luncheon. Alternate the ham with the mutton until it’s finished and I’ll take supper with the captain.’
    The weather became hotter as they steamed down the coast and the Atlantic became a brighter and more brilliant