I sit at the table but i can't eat. I'm trying to digest what Michael has just said, i can't even contemplate food.

He seems to have laid out a history and legal framework for slavery. How can this be so? It's Europe in 2008. These things belong in the past, in the third world, not in my safe, suburban life.

But here i am. Regarded with pity but a strange proprietorial air by the two women who claim to be my distant cousins. One of my male "cousins" walking around in a collar, looking at Luisa with servile devotion, despite his occasional flares of temper. He even seemed disappointed for a second when she removed the collar. And although Michael doesn't seem threatening so far, he is distant, although courteous, and has basically ignored me. I had been thinking of him as my chance to get off this island, but he has just laid out a framework for slavery, and there can be no doubt that he approves of and participates in the system. The semi naked servants (slaves?!?!) all over this place couldn't be here if he didn't want them to be. And he walks past them as though they are part of the furniture.

I stop sobbing, breathe deeply and try to pull myself together. It looks like i'm stuck here for a while, so i might as well find out more about the place. i can't stand the pity that fills the women's eyes when they look at me. I hate even more the way they seem to have classified me as a victim, one that they are sure of catching that they don't even bother to pursue.

I rise from the table. When i say a soft goodnight to the others my voice is shaking. I try to walk out with confidence.

I head to the kitchen and find the girl i have been introduced to as Silletta. She is making coffee, and i breathe in deeply, savouring the rich smell of fresh coffee beans and trying to calm myself enough to speak without crying.

"they're talking about slaves out there", i start nervously.

"Yes Miss", she goes on putting coffee into the espresso machine.

"Well what do they mean? Are You a......" the words rush out before trailing off as i try to say the unspeakable.

"I am a slave Miss. I was born on the island". She speaks so calmly, so matter of factly, softly but with no embarrassment.

"But what does that mean? you can't be a slave. You do realise that it's not legal? That you can leave and these people can get into a lot of trouble".

"No one leaves the island. The Master would never allow it. No boat docks here without his permission. Anyway. This is my home. Why would i leave my home?"

"To be free. How can you stay? What do you have to do? What does it even mean, being a slave?" I wanted to hear the answer to this. In my head, slavery meant whips and chains, overseers and cotton fields. Silletta looked and acted like a maid in an upmarket hotel. I couldn't understand why she was so calm, why she wasn't refusing to be called a slave and getting the hell out of here.

"I do what i am told to. I served the old Master and his guests. Now i serve Master Michael and his guests until we know who the new Master will be. Then i will serve him or her. My mother did this. So did her mother. I work in the house and kitchen. It is not a bad life". She shrugs and starts laying coffee cups on a tray.

"But what do you mean by serve?" My nervousness and shock is giving way to indignation. This poor girl has been brainwashed to believe she must be a slave, it goes back for generations. I feel like i should help her, but i am helpless myself.

"I look after the house and kitchen. I cook. Sometimes i look after the guests in their bedrooms. Sometimes even the old Master", she says this last bit with a strange mixture of pride and distaste.

I gulp. "You mean you....you...... sleep with them?"

She looks shocked and i go red. My dirty mind! How could i even imagine something like that! I had just accused this poor maid of being a sex slave.

"I would NEVER presume to sleep in a Masters bed", she gasps. "I service them then return to my own bed of course. Unless i am told to stay. But i would never sleep when i am serving. And when i am in the Master's presence, i am serving." She sounds defiant. I seem to have unwittingly insulted her.

"I never meant to upset you Silletta. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to wrap my head around this place" I back out of the kitchen, blushing and shocked, as she returns to calmly making the coffee.

In the corridor outside the kitchen there is someone waiting for me. I look up and see...........