When Winnie too busy in the kitchen, sometimes I have to take little Rose to the school run by the church. They make it free for everybody. Whites, blacks and coloureds. If I don’t have work to do, me sit, just inside the door, listening to all the lessons. And it always bring James to mind knowing him must be learning all them lessons too.

After lessons, if Mistress Josephine want some ‘peace and quiet’ I come to know mean she have a gentleman caller, and me must take little Rose for a walk. Rose always want to walk down Market Street, past all the shops, past the warehouses till we come to the port. Sit on the stone wall and eat sweetmeats, looking at the flags on all the tall sailing ships, try to name the country they come from. One afternoon she count, very proudly, at least sixteen of them large ships. And when we walk along the promenade she like to talk slave talk, not proper like she supposed to.

‘See that one there,’ she say, pointing. ‘One day,’ taking another sweetmeat, ‘one day, me going climb on board one of dem ships and sail far far away.’

‘Where to?’

‘Me going sail round and round till me grow big and tall. Come back, and Mama can’t tell me what to do no more.’

I nod me head. Sail round the world is a thing I never think bout before. But then, I reason to meself, I never imagine me going be sitting on a port bench eating sweetmeats, wearing fancy clothes, talking bout sailing ships.

Then the thought of it get broken when little Rose point at one of the ships.

‘See dem two there. The big ones. Dem used to be slave ships. Bring plenty slaves from Africa. And even before dem ships come into port, everybody know, because you can smell dem a long time before you see dem. Stink like the outhouse. And the slaves is all chained up. Can barely stand. Have sores all over. That’s before they get fattened up and slavers rub oil on dem body. Get dem ready to be sold.’

‘Who tell you this?’

‘Winnie,’ little Rose say. ‘Make Mama plenty mad when she find out.’

Later that night I ask Winnie bout it.

‘Little Rose need to know the truth,’ she tell me. ‘Is too late for you, me, for Mistress Josephine. We used to this slavery business, come to accept the way it is. But little Rose. One day, me hope that little girl going come to understand how wicked it is. Work hard to stop it. You think we freer here than out on the plantation? Think because Mistress not a backra it going be different? Slavery is slavery.’