Jamaica 1677.
Jamaica 1677.The grey sky threatening imminent rain seemed almost a cliché considering their purpose in St Agnus’s graveyard that morning in the hills above Port Royal. Not a thunderstorm though, to bring some drama. Just ordinary mundane, shitty rain which could not hold-off until they were done. No surprise there. It felt like that sort of day.
This was their last task before they sailed for Lisbon that afternoon, seeing the white marble headstone set in place, its inscription neatly carved and brightly gilded. Their little group grave of face around the grave. Raphael and Susannah. Michael and Hal. Pearl holding Paolo and keeping Penny well back. It was an upsetting thing for her to see. For how could it not be? She was his daughter, after all. Though it was not acknowle
