Jack knocked loudly on the battered green door at the Moors boarding house. As he waited to be answered, he wondered vaguely if Meryl could be bought anymore. She seemed to be a nice girl; a bit rough around the edges, maybe, but at least seemingly the sort who wouldn't mind a good roll around in bed once in a while.
He knocked again, growing ever impatient with this Mr. Parol. This wasn't the usual sort of residence for a girl like Meryl. Most bar whores opted to lodge in brothels, where clients were more easily found. But then again, most bar whores wouldn't have been as eager as Meryl to leave on such a risky venture. Meryl must be desperate, he concluded. He knew from experience that to tempt a desperate woman was a death-marked act.
The door swung open and a neatly dressed middle-aged man answered in a calm, placid English voice, the kind of dialect one rarely hears in a port such as Tortuga.
"Are you Parol then, mate?" Jack asked impatiently.
"I am indeed." He answered, looking with distaste on Jack's rum-stained undershirt. "All of our rooms are reserved for honest and misfortuned citizens. No drinkers allowed near my children, no sir." Parol made to close the door, but Jack jammed it open with his foot.
"It seems there is some sort of misunderstanding here, aye?" He said with a flourish. "I'm here to see Meryl Volleys."
Parol stiffened. "Meryl has enough hardships already. She doesn't need the likes of you come to harass her." He tried once again to shut the door and once again Jack's foot stopped him.
Suddenly Meryl's voice called from within. "Who is it, Padre?"
He snorted. "Some good-for-nothing come to bother you."
Jack saw Meryl appear in the doorway, two small children pulling on her arms and begging her to come play with them. "Oh that's a good friend of mine!" She said with a smile. "Don't mind his appearance, Padre, he's a missionary."
Parol's face brightened. "Right then, come in." Meryl giggled from behind him.
Jack stepped into the brick house timidly, as if fearing some biblical wrath of God. The home was warm and bright. All around ran little children, laughing, playing, and begging Meryl to come and join them. He followed her upstairs to a small bedroom. Meryl had packed everything the night before. Only a few of her more frequently used possessions still lay about. She shut the door quietly.
"You'll have to excuse Parol." She said apologetically. "He's a Spanish priest, a Padre. He's awfully suspicious of anyone who comes asking for me."
Jack looked her up and down. "With good reason, though, aye?"
Meryl giggled. "He takes in three boarders at a time. I've been living here for two and a half years. I pay him when I can. I also help Mrs. Parol with the children." She sighed wistfully. "Aren't they just wonderful?"
Jack sat down on the bed and watched Meryl pack. "Cant say it's the kind of house I expected, luv." He paused. "Does good Mr. Parol know of your, erm, occupation?"
"Uh huh." Meryl said, preoccupied with her packing. "I'd like you to find a girl living alone in Tortuga who isn't a prostitute. it's the only occupation open to us and Padre says that justifies it."
Jack raised his eyebrows. "Does he now?"
Meryl threw her bag down onto the bed. "Right, I'm ready now." She paused. "Wait, I just need my coat."
She threw on a long black men's jacket and went to grab her bags. Jack picked them up and made to carry them for her, but she whisked them out of his hands forcefully.
"Fine then," He said, offended. "I wont help you."
One the pair had ventured out into the street, Jack lead Meryl down the steep hill to the docks, whereupon he brought her aboard a large but crude vessel, so called The Black Pearl, as Meryl discovered from the inscription on the side.
The crew stared at her disapprovingly, but Jack ignored them, leading her inside to a tiny cabin furnished with little more than a cot.
"This is to be your room, luv." He said flourishingly. He stared at her, trying hard to read the expression on her face.
Meryl looked around and plunked her bags onto the floor. "Thank you very much, Captain."
Jack went to leave, then paused a moment. "Honestly, you don't miss Tortuga already, aye luv? Always said it was the greatest place in the high seas-"
"If you're a man!" Meryl cut him off angrily. "Jack could you please go? I'd like to be alone a moment."
He strode towards her and leaned in to kiss her.
"Isabella Armeitis wouldn't kiss her jailer, Mr. Sparrow." Meryl said as she ducked out of his arms. "You'll have to find someone else for that."
He smiled. "Come with me, luv." His hand grabbed hers but she pulled away.
Meryl was beginning to puzzle Jack. She wasn't the average, run-of-the-mill whore you'd find on Tortuga, and every rule he'd known to apply with women didn't seem to fit for her. She didn't care for chivalry, nor for dirtiness. In fact, she didn't seem to care for anything he did. He was beginning to doubt he'd ever get a good roll around in bed with her at all.
"Is something wrong, Captain?" Meryl peered into hid dark, charcoal-lined eyes intensely. He seemed lost in thought, as if some great and complicated truth had suddenly struck him. "Jack?"
He looked up at her. "Well then, Lady Isabella, there'll be a guard outside your room at all times if you feel the need to escape."
Meryl giggled. "Goodnight, Jack."
He smiled. "Goodnight, Isabella."
And with a flourished drunken turn on his heel, he was gone.
Meryl sighed and sat down on her cot. The one thing she had always been taught was that she must never get emotionally attached to any man. Especially a client. Jack was charming. He spoke as smoothly as silk. He was witty and delightfully outlandish. But she couldn't fall for him. Above all things, she refused to enjoy his advances.