Massa never make it through the night. Dead and turning cold by the next morning. Doctor Watson have to give Mistress Margaret a big dose of tonic to calm her down.

And everybody asking, how this can happen?

That night, Stella come to me hut. She not come for a visit in a long time. Not after she move out the slave village. Not after she and Eliza living in the hut Massa had Winston build special for them.

She come in close and I expect to see grief stretched cross her face. But in the flicking candle light, what I see is fear.

‘You find the hatchet?’

‘What you mean?’

‘Don’t act stupid. The one you lend Robert.’

‘Him never return it.’

‘You better look for it. Find it, and find it quick.’

‘Stella, what you saying?’ But I get no answer. She gone already. Slipped into the shadows of the night.

The next day and many days after, I go looking for that hatchet. The one I lend McKellar when him tell me him going use it to chop wood. I never find it.

Mistress Margaret hold the funeral up in the little white church on the hill. I is surprised to see how many people come from all round the parish. Specially since I know most of them never even been to the plantation before. And they come all dressed up in them Sunday best.

‘To be seen. To gossip later,’ Melon say.

Stella, Sammy, Eliza and me, we all go to the funeral. Stand together at the back of the church. Make Mistress Margaret upset when she see us, but we is family whether she like it or not.

The service don’t last long. Just long enough for the priest to tell everybody what a good man Massa was. How much him going be missed. And may God rest him soul. Then we all return to the plantation where they lower Massa body into the grave. Cover it all up. Hold a wake in the Great House where Mistress Margaret serve plenty food and drink. Must be well past midnight before the last person leave and we all catch some rest.

Everything happen so fast, none of us can really believe it. One day Massa here. The next, him gone. Buried beside Old Massa William up on the hilltop. And as in life, so in death, him get the plot with the best view. Mistress Margaret walk up there every day, tell Winston to bring flowers and plant them.

A few weeks after the funeral, Eliza and me walking past the Great House when Mistress Margaret come rushing out the front door. She in a terrible state, her hair sticking up all over the place. Her clothes wrinkled like she been sleeping in them.

She walk up and down on the verandah shouting.