Tituba’s man, John Indian, called me into the kitchen.

‘A parcel from Boston has come for you.’

He handed me a parcel. I went to my room and found I couldn’t undo the knot as my nail broke. I used the broken bit to slice through the string. Reams of paper tore away and then I saw the white silk.

‘No,’ I sobbed into the paper.

Betty came into the room.

‘Why are you crying and what’s that parcel?’

‘Robert has returned the white dress he bought me.’

‘Well, you finished with him. He sent you the dress. He could have thrown it way or given it to someone else. You still feel for him, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know. I’m so confused. What am I going to tell your father? He will want to know what was in the parcel.’

‘Tell him it’s just books on the French language.’

‘You’re growing up fast now, thank you.’

‘Please put the dress on, I want to see you in it.’

‘I always bathed before I put this dress on before.’

‘I insist.’

I slid out of my black garb quickly. I put the dress over my head and let it slide down my body. I adjusted it on my body. My fingers fumbled to do buttoning. ‘There.’

‘Oh, you look so grand. I never thought I would see you like this.’ Betty’s mouth was wide in wonder when a knock was heard on our door.

‘Father, we are indisposed at the moment.’

Frantic fingers to undo buttons and finally the dress went over my head in haste and into the wooden box. My uncle knocked again; his knock had an impatient edge. I had just enough time to put on my black garb when he barged through the door.

‘Betty, Abigail, I have wonderful news. A supreme court has been established and the Court of Oyer and Terminer is no more. There is no more spectral evidence. Sir William Phips has got rid of the lot. You know what that means, don’t you Betty? No more hangings.’

I felt a fool again. I had gone to Robert and he had done nothing but someone else had dissolved that insidious court. Robert had been wrong that we could leave everything to the courts. It had taken a more powerful man than Robert to dissolve that court, Sir William Phips. But worse than that, Robert had no interest in moving to stop the atrocities. Even more terrible, he had not fulfilled my request; he had not done my bidding.

I saw my uncle stop looking down at his daughter and look across. Something had caught his eye. I followed his gaze. A shard of light hit on blue. The question of ‘what was it?’ turned in his mind. I then saw that a piece of my dress was still sticking out.

My uncle recovered from the fascination, to asking what it was.

‘Oh it’s just a piece of cloth we bought in the market, Father,’ said Betty.

‘I would like to see it.’

When my uncle got onto something he would not let it go. He demanded we pull it out. I looked at Betty. She had tried to help me but where could we go now?

He made demands.

‘Betty, show him the piece.’

She went to the box, lifted the lid and brought out a piece of the dress.

I froze.

‘What is that?’

‘What does it look like, Uncle?’ I found my voice. ‘Pull the whole lot out, Betty.’

Betty looked at me.

I nodded.

The dress came out in all its glory, white, shot with blue.

My uncle stood there speechless.

‘Where did you get that? Who gave it to you? Was it Captain Walcott?’

‘Captain Walcott?’ I said in astonishment.

‘Abigail, I thought you were in love with him.’

‘Uncle, I thought he was a fine man but I was never in love with him. Besides he no longer lives here. He has fled because some girl accused him.’

‘That doesn’t mean he could not communicate with you or you with him. You go riding everywhere.’

‘Please, Uncle, do not blame Captain Walcott.’

I watched my uncle go through his muddled thoughts as to what was happening.

‘Then who, Abigail?’

I was silent.

‘You harlot!’

‘Father!’

‘Betty, you stay out of this. Please leave us.’

Betty stayed in the corner.

‘I am waiting, Abigail.’

‘Uncle, I met a gentleman in Salem Town, some months back. We had tea together. We have stayed in contact.’

‘He lives in Salem Town?’

‘He did for a while but he later moved to Boston.’

‘Boston!’

He looked comical with his mouth open as he worked out the implications of that information.

‘You harlot. You have no place any longer in my house. You have defiled it. You are a bad influence on my daughter. Get out.’

‘Father, you do not mean that.’

‘I assure you, Betty, I do.’

‘Sir, you are no gentleman to barge into a lady’s bedroom,’ I managed to say.

‘And are you a lady?’

He turned viciously on me calling me shallow and ungrateful. We looked at each other with hatred. He left the room.

‘You must apologise to my father.’

‘It wouldn’t do any good; I have to escape; I can no longer live here. Your father will not speak to me again.’ I paused wondering whether I should disclose to Betty what I was going to say.

‘I met a man who was going to Virginia to be an overseer in a cotton plantation at Salem Town one day, I told him I wanted to escape my village and put it behind me. I told him that I could cook, look after children, teach and I begged him to write to me to let me know if any such position would become available.’

‘You planned to leave me and go to Virginia. Abigail, it’s so far away.’

‘I want be far away. But you could come and visit me, Betty; you could come with me.’

‘How, Abigail, how?’