A/N Thanks for the reviews, hope you all like the next chapter.
Oh and JeanieBeanie33 when you say it's different. . .is that good or bad? *scared face*
Chapter Eight ~ Sunset and Seasons.
"I am beginning to worry about you, Roselyn. Perhaps you should go and stay with your cousin Mortimer back in England. I would hate to fail your parents, and they did make me promise to give you a correct upbringing."
Rosie stared at her aunt stupified. Not only had her aunt just said the longest sentence she had ever spoken to her niece, but the mere idea of England sent a shiver down the ten year old's spine. She hated the wet dreary country, so far from her friends, and memories of her parents.
"I am happy here." Rosie said, quickly.
Her aunt sighed. "Ah, but happiness is not always good for the young mind." Rosie was confused. How could happiness not be good for you? She didn't reply, she couldn't. She didn't know what her aunt was talking about so couldn't form a decent argument.
"See child, back in England. . ."
"But I like it here."
"Roselyn, my child, you are a lady of breeding, or you were. Back in England you will get the education and attention you deserve. You may even be able to have a London season, you could share it with your cousins, I am not sure how far your cousins budget will stretch, but he will see you alright."
Jack had spent a whole morning telling Rosie what a 'London season' was. Apparently Marcie had told him.
"Basically all the girls get dressed up an' go an' display themselves, an' then the men makes bids. . ."
". . .like an auction. . ."
"'xactly like an auction. An' the one who bids the highest gets the girl." He told her.
Rosie had laughed then, but now it seemed much more real.
That day when she met the others they sat by the fort, each of them depressed.
Jack clung an old key in his hand, and his face was so hardened and closed that Bill and Rosie didn't dare ask. Bill was moping over his father, as per usual. And Rosie had the threat of London hanging over her. Surely ten was too young for a season? Jack had said fifteen, sixteen was the normal age.
"But I want you to have a proper education, and lose some of that nasty Caribbean tan, before you are launched into society." Had been her aunt's reply.
So the three sat by Jack's safe house, never minding the ghosts, in silence each contemplating their own miserable lives.
Rosie began to stroke the grass with her hands. It felt warm against her fingers. It was six o'clock in the evening when Bill stood up to leave.
"Can we stay and watch the sunset?" Rosie asked.
Bill stared at her in amazement. Rosie had never held with such sentiments before, besides surely her aunt would be mad if she stayed out so late.
The out of character comment even awoke Jack from his stupor.
She shrugged at their surprised faces. "It's times like these you realise what really matters."
Jack stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff, and peered over at the rocks. "You know it would be dead simple to end everything, to just step over the edge. . ." His foot tottered slightly as he leaned over.
"Jack!" Rosie screeched. "That's ridiculous, as if any one would want to do a thing like that."
"If your life was really that bad, you would." Bill said.
"Well, both o' you should be thankful it ain't."
"Shouldn't that be both of you should be thankful it isn't?" Bill asked, innocently.
She scowled at him.
"Come on little girl, if you're gonna be a lady you gotta talk like one."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Then I most certainly don't wanna be a lady, I wanna have my freedom."
Freedom. Freedom. The word sparked off something in Jack's mind, a memory. A memory from long ago, a memory of Marcie.
"Sometimes you know Jack, I could just walk out there, into the sea, into that horizon. I could just walk and walk, and not stop, I could disappear over that horizon. That's what the sea is you know, it's freedom." She nodded. "A massive blue pile of freedom." The tears rolled down her cheek, one of which was covered with a red hand mark. That was before she was strong, before she had learnt to fight.
Jack shook himself, as a sudden thought came to him. He pulled the letter from his pocket, and scanned it again with his urgent eyes. . . .Escape, to freedom. . .
"Auntie told me a story about a girl who came from the sea. There was a shipwreck, no one survived, but then the sailors saw this figure just rise from the blue depths and walk ashore. Some said she was so wicked the sea had thrown her back up. She wreaked havoc on the family she stayed with, breaking the hearts of all who came in contact with her. One day she just disappeared."
"What happened to her?" Bill asked.
"She walked back into the sea, and disappeared beneath the waves."
Bill shook his head. "Nah, don't believe it."
"Just because you don't believe it don't make it so, Bill Turner." Rosie said, angrily.
The three stood together watching the sunset, a lot had happened since they had last watched it.
Matthew Turner had been hung, regardless of innocence or guilt, Rosie was being taught how to be a lady, and Marcie had perished in a fire. It seemed like things would never be the same again.
"One thing is still right though." Rosie said, saying what the others were thinking.
"What's that?" Jack asked.
"Us."
Oh and JeanieBeanie33 when you say it's different. . .is that good or bad? *scared face*
Chapter Eight ~ Sunset and Seasons.
"I am beginning to worry about you, Roselyn. Perhaps you should go and stay with your cousin Mortimer back in England. I would hate to fail your parents, and they did make me promise to give you a correct upbringing."
Rosie stared at her aunt stupified. Not only had her aunt just said the longest sentence she had ever spoken to her niece, but the mere idea of England sent a shiver down the ten year old's spine. She hated the wet dreary country, so far from her friends, and memories of her parents.
"I am happy here." Rosie said, quickly.
Her aunt sighed. "Ah, but happiness is not always good for the young mind." Rosie was confused. How could happiness not be good for you? She didn't reply, she couldn't. She didn't know what her aunt was talking about so couldn't form a decent argument.
"See child, back in England. . ."
"But I like it here."
"Roselyn, my child, you are a lady of breeding, or you were. Back in England you will get the education and attention you deserve. You may even be able to have a London season, you could share it with your cousins, I am not sure how far your cousins budget will stretch, but he will see you alright."
Jack had spent a whole morning telling Rosie what a 'London season' was. Apparently Marcie had told him.
"Basically all the girls get dressed up an' go an' display themselves, an' then the men makes bids. . ."
". . .like an auction. . ."
"'xactly like an auction. An' the one who bids the highest gets the girl." He told her.
Rosie had laughed then, but now it seemed much more real.
That day when she met the others they sat by the fort, each of them depressed.
Jack clung an old key in his hand, and his face was so hardened and closed that Bill and Rosie didn't dare ask. Bill was moping over his father, as per usual. And Rosie had the threat of London hanging over her. Surely ten was too young for a season? Jack had said fifteen, sixteen was the normal age.
"But I want you to have a proper education, and lose some of that nasty Caribbean tan, before you are launched into society." Had been her aunt's reply.
So the three sat by Jack's safe house, never minding the ghosts, in silence each contemplating their own miserable lives.
Rosie began to stroke the grass with her hands. It felt warm against her fingers. It was six o'clock in the evening when Bill stood up to leave.
"Can we stay and watch the sunset?" Rosie asked.
Bill stared at her in amazement. Rosie had never held with such sentiments before, besides surely her aunt would be mad if she stayed out so late.
The out of character comment even awoke Jack from his stupor.
She shrugged at their surprised faces. "It's times like these you realise what really matters."
Jack stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff, and peered over at the rocks. "You know it would be dead simple to end everything, to just step over the edge. . ." His foot tottered slightly as he leaned over.
"Jack!" Rosie screeched. "That's ridiculous, as if any one would want to do a thing like that."
"If your life was really that bad, you would." Bill said.
"Well, both o' you should be thankful it ain't."
"Shouldn't that be both of you should be thankful it isn't?" Bill asked, innocently.
She scowled at him.
"Come on little girl, if you're gonna be a lady you gotta talk like one."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Then I most certainly don't wanna be a lady, I wanna have my freedom."
Freedom. Freedom. The word sparked off something in Jack's mind, a memory. A memory from long ago, a memory of Marcie.
"Sometimes you know Jack, I could just walk out there, into the sea, into that horizon. I could just walk and walk, and not stop, I could disappear over that horizon. That's what the sea is you know, it's freedom." She nodded. "A massive blue pile of freedom." The tears rolled down her cheek, one of which was covered with a red hand mark. That was before she was strong, before she had learnt to fight.
Jack shook himself, as a sudden thought came to him. He pulled the letter from his pocket, and scanned it again with his urgent eyes. . . .Escape, to freedom. . .
"Auntie told me a story about a girl who came from the sea. There was a shipwreck, no one survived, but then the sailors saw this figure just rise from the blue depths and walk ashore. Some said she was so wicked the sea had thrown her back up. She wreaked havoc on the family she stayed with, breaking the hearts of all who came in contact with her. One day she just disappeared."
"What happened to her?" Bill asked.
"She walked back into the sea, and disappeared beneath the waves."
Bill shook his head. "Nah, don't believe it."
"Just because you don't believe it don't make it so, Bill Turner." Rosie said, angrily.
The three stood together watching the sunset, a lot had happened since they had last watched it.
Matthew Turner had been hung, regardless of innocence or guilt, Rosie was being taught how to be a lady, and Marcie had perished in a fire. It seemed like things would never be the same again.
"One thing is still right though." Rosie said, saying what the others were thinking.
"What's that?" Jack asked.
"Us."
