Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, for once I didn't really leave you
hanging, but this one will be different...
***
A Hard Man To Predict
It is late afternoon on the same day. After all the hustle and bustle of getting Miss Elizabeth – she isn't really MISS Elizabeth anymore, but Faye still calls her by her old title – up and dressed, getting breakfast, cleaning up breakfast, sweeping, dusting, mending and all the myriad other things Faye has to do, this is a spot of calm in the endless storm. Faye is sitting under a tree in the grounds watching Edward and Jack playing tag. The theory is that it will tire them out before bedtime, but really Faye just likes the rest.
'Faye! Faye! Come and play tag with us Faye!'
Edward is pulling Faye by the hand, up from under her tree, and out onto the lawn. Edward's devotion to Faye is obvious. Jack likes to be grown up about things, and has been resolutely tucking himself up every night with no help at all from Faye, but Edward insists on being read to and hugged and tucked in so tightly that Faye worries about cutting off his circulation.
Jack rushes up to Faye, and taps her on the arm.
'You're it!' he laughs, running away.
Faye laughs too, and runs after him. They play until the sun is just beginning to sink below the horizon, when they are joined by an unexpected guest. Faye stops dead in her tracks when she sees who has walked out of the grand double doors and onto the lawn. She sees Will rarely these days, and the relationship between them has changed. Although she still thinks of him simply as 'Will' he is her employer and her master, and there are rules about how servants must respond to their masters.
Faye bobs a curtsey.
'Can I help you sir? We were just playing tag.'
Will looks at his sons, the elder panting with breathless laughter, and the younger rolling on the grass kicking his feet at the sky and giggling.
He smiles. 'So I see. May I join in?'
'Certainly sir. You can take over from me if you like, I'm sure I'm needed in the kitchen.'
'No, please stay.'
'Oh really sir, they've tired me out.'
'Please stay outside; it's too stuffy in the house.'
'Alright sir. I'll watch from over there.'
Faye returns to her tree, and sits under it watching the father and his sons. Jack, a miniature Will with big serious eyes contrasting with a wicked smile and evil sense of humour, and Edward, sweet and innocent, and spoiled rotten by his doting grandfather. Faye smiles. Surely there is no better sight than this.
Eight o'clock is bedtime for the two young Turners, with no quarter given on that score. Jack has moved out of the nursery into a room of his own next door, and Faye simply goes in to make sure he's blown out his candle before going to sleep. Edward however, still sleeps amid his toys and childhood books. He is tired tonight, and doesn't demand endless stories – his exercise this afternoon has tired him out.
As Faye kisses him on the forehead, and turns to leave, he calls her back.
'Yes?' she asks.
'Faye, where are your mama and papa?'
Edward, has an insatiable curiosity, and daily he plagues Faye with questions she doesn't know the answer to. In this case, she gives the only answer she knows.
'My mama died when I was born. I only know her name was Maggie. I've never even seen a picture of her, but Susie says she had dark blonde hair and green-grey eyes, and that she was very pretty.'
Edward thinks for a moment. 'What about your papa? Did he play tag with you, Faye?'
Faye feels like she has been kicked in the stomach. She only ever thinks about her mother, but no one has ever said anything to her about a father...she tries to think up something to say to Edward, but luckily he is distracted.
'I like playing tag with my papa, but it makes me so tired. I think I should like to sleep now.'
Faye kisses him lightly on the forehead and bids him goodnight, as calmly as she can manage. Outside in the corridor she leans against the wall and tries to breathe normally. Why has she never thought about it? In her preoccupation with her mother, the question of a father never even skittered across her consciousness. How could she have lived so long and not even asked? Faye resolves that this is one question Susie must have time to answer.
----
All evening Faye tries desperately to get Susie alone, and she is constantly brushed off with errands or the old war-cry of 'I'm too busy!' that she knows so well. Faye feels her anger rising and rising, and almost is screeching with frustration when she is laying in bed that night and still no closer to any knowledge at all. She attempts to reason with herself that after so long another day or two doesn't matter, but in the end it is no use. She gets out of bed, and gets dressed.
She creeps silently along the passage on the floor below hers, the passage that leads to the rooms of the highest ranking servants. Susie room is the door at the end, and carefully, carefully, she turns the doorknob. A drop of hot wax from her candle spills onto her hand, and she bites down the cry of momentary pain.
The door eases open, and Faye goes in. She holds her candle high above her head, and sees that only Susie is in the bed on the far side of the room. Stannard must still be up with Will, Faye reasons. At least it makes life easier. Faye sets her candle down on Susie's dresser, and crosses the room. Gently, she shakes her aunt by the shoulder.
'Wstfgl?' Susie opens her eyes blearily and squints through the gloom. 'Tom?'
Thomas is Stannard's first name, Faye remembers.
'No Susie, it's me, Faye.'
'Faye? What are you doing here?' Susie sits up, pulling the bedclothes around her, the picture of annoyance.
'I need to ask you a question,' Faye explains, sitting down on the bed.
'Faye, it's the middle of the night! Go back to bed. We can talk in the morning –if it's so important it will keep until then. Go away.'
'We will not talk in the morning, because you will be too busy. We will talk now. Right now.'
'Will it make you go back to bed sooner if I agree?'
'Yes. Absolutely.'
Susie sighs, and resigns herself. She reaches for her tinderbox, and lights her bedside candle.
'What is it?'
Faye takes a deep breath. 'Who's my father?'
At first she thinks Susie hasn't heard her, she is simply staring incredulously at her niece. But then she replies, slowly.
'Faye, please, can't we discuss this is the morning?'
Faye merely glares. Susie has seen that glare on her sister, long ago, and is reminded of the promise she made to Maggie as she lay dying. She remembers the desperation of that night, the blinding terror, and Maggie's total faith in her to bring up the child she gave her life for. Susie sighs again.
'It's quite a long story; may I start at the beginning?'
Faye nods, all tiredness forgotten and all her nerves alight.
Susie fills her lungs and prepares to let Faye in on the most shameful secrets of her existence.
'Years ago, your mother and I both worked for the Swann family in England.'
Faye nods again, she knows this.
'We had no family at the time, or rather we did, but they weren't the kind of people who'd be too bothered about us. When the Governor was offered his Governorship here, it was a great honour, so naturally the entire household was expected to go too. Our ship was the last ship. Most of the servants went before us, to prepare the house, but we came with Miss Elizabeth and the Governor. I took care of Miss Elizabeth; your mother was just sort of an on-board maid.'
Faye waits with baited breath. Why can't she get to the point?.
'On that crossing we rescued Mr Turner. We found him...'
Faye cuts her off. 'I know the story about Wi- about Mr Turner, please, keep on with what you were saying before.'
Susie frowns. 'Patience is a virtue, Faye. Anyway, just as we were coming into these islands, there was a storm. The ship was badly damaged and had to stop at a terrible place known as the Isla de Tortuga.'
Faye nods. The pirate haunt; she's read about it in her books.
'We were told to stay on board while the repairs were done, but your mother wanted to go and explore and buy something from the market. She didn't come back. They looked for her, but not for long as there was another storm coming in and we had to stay ahead of the weather. I cried and cried at the thought that we had left her there. It was there that she met your father.'
'What? On Tortuga?'
'Yes. I'm sorry that you had to know this, I hadn't wanted to tell you, but I promised your mother...anyway.' Susie wipes away a stray tear with the flat of her hand. 'While she was there, she had to find the money to get to Port Royal, and she had very little money on her when she left the ship. So she...she...she went to one of those houses where women...where they...' Susie takes a deep breath and tries to blot out the images that rise in her head.
Faye is stunned. Whatever she had expected, it was not this. She can't speak. Her mouth is dry, but Susie doesn't even give her time to recover.
'Your father went to her, he liked her, he kept her for a week until he was due to leave. He gave her a lot of money, and she used it to buy passage here. We hid her, me and Miss Elizabeth, and she told me everything. When she was dying, on the night you were born, she told me, when you were old enough to tell you...' Susie stops, the tears are flowing thick and fast now.
'She told me to say that she loved him, and that he loved her. I don't know if he did or not, but she was so sure...'
Faye reaches out to her aunt, and their tears mix together in mourning for a sister known well and a mother never met. They stay like this for a long time, until Susie hears Stannard's tread on the stairs down the hall. They pull apart, and Faye gets up to go, but turns back at the last moment.
'Susie, do you actually know who my father was?'
Here it is, a get-out clause. All Susie has to do is say no and that will be the end of the matter. Faye need never know. Yet, Susie can see the desperate plea in the eyes of her sister as if it was yesterday, and she knows she must not lie.
'Yes, I do know who you're father was. Is – as far as I know he's still alive.'
'Please Susie, please tell me. I have to know.'
'Are you sure? Because once you know a thing you can't un-know it.'
'Susie! If you love me at all, please tell me!'
Susie fixes her eyes on Faye. 'Your father...'
'Yes?' Faye can barely breathe at all; the thought that she might not know his name doesn't matter, this faceless man will have a name, and that is all that she cares about.
'Your father is Captain Jack Sparrow.'
Faye sits down heavily on the floor, dazed. She hears thuds of feet, and feels strong arms lift her up. She sees her uncle's face smiling quizzically at her as her carries her back up to her bed, no questions asked. Her father is not a faceless man. She knows his face as well as she knows her own. As if she saw it in the mirror every morning.
***
Do I need to say anything? No, except: please review!
***
A Hard Man To Predict
It is late afternoon on the same day. After all the hustle and bustle of getting Miss Elizabeth – she isn't really MISS Elizabeth anymore, but Faye still calls her by her old title – up and dressed, getting breakfast, cleaning up breakfast, sweeping, dusting, mending and all the myriad other things Faye has to do, this is a spot of calm in the endless storm. Faye is sitting under a tree in the grounds watching Edward and Jack playing tag. The theory is that it will tire them out before bedtime, but really Faye just likes the rest.
'Faye! Faye! Come and play tag with us Faye!'
Edward is pulling Faye by the hand, up from under her tree, and out onto the lawn. Edward's devotion to Faye is obvious. Jack likes to be grown up about things, and has been resolutely tucking himself up every night with no help at all from Faye, but Edward insists on being read to and hugged and tucked in so tightly that Faye worries about cutting off his circulation.
Jack rushes up to Faye, and taps her on the arm.
'You're it!' he laughs, running away.
Faye laughs too, and runs after him. They play until the sun is just beginning to sink below the horizon, when they are joined by an unexpected guest. Faye stops dead in her tracks when she sees who has walked out of the grand double doors and onto the lawn. She sees Will rarely these days, and the relationship between them has changed. Although she still thinks of him simply as 'Will' he is her employer and her master, and there are rules about how servants must respond to their masters.
Faye bobs a curtsey.
'Can I help you sir? We were just playing tag.'
Will looks at his sons, the elder panting with breathless laughter, and the younger rolling on the grass kicking his feet at the sky and giggling.
He smiles. 'So I see. May I join in?'
'Certainly sir. You can take over from me if you like, I'm sure I'm needed in the kitchen.'
'No, please stay.'
'Oh really sir, they've tired me out.'
'Please stay outside; it's too stuffy in the house.'
'Alright sir. I'll watch from over there.'
Faye returns to her tree, and sits under it watching the father and his sons. Jack, a miniature Will with big serious eyes contrasting with a wicked smile and evil sense of humour, and Edward, sweet and innocent, and spoiled rotten by his doting grandfather. Faye smiles. Surely there is no better sight than this.
Eight o'clock is bedtime for the two young Turners, with no quarter given on that score. Jack has moved out of the nursery into a room of his own next door, and Faye simply goes in to make sure he's blown out his candle before going to sleep. Edward however, still sleeps amid his toys and childhood books. He is tired tonight, and doesn't demand endless stories – his exercise this afternoon has tired him out.
As Faye kisses him on the forehead, and turns to leave, he calls her back.
'Yes?' she asks.
'Faye, where are your mama and papa?'
Edward, has an insatiable curiosity, and daily he plagues Faye with questions she doesn't know the answer to. In this case, she gives the only answer she knows.
'My mama died when I was born. I only know her name was Maggie. I've never even seen a picture of her, but Susie says she had dark blonde hair and green-grey eyes, and that she was very pretty.'
Edward thinks for a moment. 'What about your papa? Did he play tag with you, Faye?'
Faye feels like she has been kicked in the stomach. She only ever thinks about her mother, but no one has ever said anything to her about a father...she tries to think up something to say to Edward, but luckily he is distracted.
'I like playing tag with my papa, but it makes me so tired. I think I should like to sleep now.'
Faye kisses him lightly on the forehead and bids him goodnight, as calmly as she can manage. Outside in the corridor she leans against the wall and tries to breathe normally. Why has she never thought about it? In her preoccupation with her mother, the question of a father never even skittered across her consciousness. How could she have lived so long and not even asked? Faye resolves that this is one question Susie must have time to answer.
----
All evening Faye tries desperately to get Susie alone, and she is constantly brushed off with errands or the old war-cry of 'I'm too busy!' that she knows so well. Faye feels her anger rising and rising, and almost is screeching with frustration when she is laying in bed that night and still no closer to any knowledge at all. She attempts to reason with herself that after so long another day or two doesn't matter, but in the end it is no use. She gets out of bed, and gets dressed.
She creeps silently along the passage on the floor below hers, the passage that leads to the rooms of the highest ranking servants. Susie room is the door at the end, and carefully, carefully, she turns the doorknob. A drop of hot wax from her candle spills onto her hand, and she bites down the cry of momentary pain.
The door eases open, and Faye goes in. She holds her candle high above her head, and sees that only Susie is in the bed on the far side of the room. Stannard must still be up with Will, Faye reasons. At least it makes life easier. Faye sets her candle down on Susie's dresser, and crosses the room. Gently, she shakes her aunt by the shoulder.
'Wstfgl?' Susie opens her eyes blearily and squints through the gloom. 'Tom?'
Thomas is Stannard's first name, Faye remembers.
'No Susie, it's me, Faye.'
'Faye? What are you doing here?' Susie sits up, pulling the bedclothes around her, the picture of annoyance.
'I need to ask you a question,' Faye explains, sitting down on the bed.
'Faye, it's the middle of the night! Go back to bed. We can talk in the morning –if it's so important it will keep until then. Go away.'
'We will not talk in the morning, because you will be too busy. We will talk now. Right now.'
'Will it make you go back to bed sooner if I agree?'
'Yes. Absolutely.'
Susie sighs, and resigns herself. She reaches for her tinderbox, and lights her bedside candle.
'What is it?'
Faye takes a deep breath. 'Who's my father?'
At first she thinks Susie hasn't heard her, she is simply staring incredulously at her niece. But then she replies, slowly.
'Faye, please, can't we discuss this is the morning?'
Faye merely glares. Susie has seen that glare on her sister, long ago, and is reminded of the promise she made to Maggie as she lay dying. She remembers the desperation of that night, the blinding terror, and Maggie's total faith in her to bring up the child she gave her life for. Susie sighs again.
'It's quite a long story; may I start at the beginning?'
Faye nods, all tiredness forgotten and all her nerves alight.
Susie fills her lungs and prepares to let Faye in on the most shameful secrets of her existence.
'Years ago, your mother and I both worked for the Swann family in England.'
Faye nods again, she knows this.
'We had no family at the time, or rather we did, but they weren't the kind of people who'd be too bothered about us. When the Governor was offered his Governorship here, it was a great honour, so naturally the entire household was expected to go too. Our ship was the last ship. Most of the servants went before us, to prepare the house, but we came with Miss Elizabeth and the Governor. I took care of Miss Elizabeth; your mother was just sort of an on-board maid.'
Faye waits with baited breath. Why can't she get to the point?.
'On that crossing we rescued Mr Turner. We found him...'
Faye cuts her off. 'I know the story about Wi- about Mr Turner, please, keep on with what you were saying before.'
Susie frowns. 'Patience is a virtue, Faye. Anyway, just as we were coming into these islands, there was a storm. The ship was badly damaged and had to stop at a terrible place known as the Isla de Tortuga.'
Faye nods. The pirate haunt; she's read about it in her books.
'We were told to stay on board while the repairs were done, but your mother wanted to go and explore and buy something from the market. She didn't come back. They looked for her, but not for long as there was another storm coming in and we had to stay ahead of the weather. I cried and cried at the thought that we had left her there. It was there that she met your father.'
'What? On Tortuga?'
'Yes. I'm sorry that you had to know this, I hadn't wanted to tell you, but I promised your mother...anyway.' Susie wipes away a stray tear with the flat of her hand. 'While she was there, she had to find the money to get to Port Royal, and she had very little money on her when she left the ship. So she...she...she went to one of those houses where women...where they...' Susie takes a deep breath and tries to blot out the images that rise in her head.
Faye is stunned. Whatever she had expected, it was not this. She can't speak. Her mouth is dry, but Susie doesn't even give her time to recover.
'Your father went to her, he liked her, he kept her for a week until he was due to leave. He gave her a lot of money, and she used it to buy passage here. We hid her, me and Miss Elizabeth, and she told me everything. When she was dying, on the night you were born, she told me, when you were old enough to tell you...' Susie stops, the tears are flowing thick and fast now.
'She told me to say that she loved him, and that he loved her. I don't know if he did or not, but she was so sure...'
Faye reaches out to her aunt, and their tears mix together in mourning for a sister known well and a mother never met. They stay like this for a long time, until Susie hears Stannard's tread on the stairs down the hall. They pull apart, and Faye gets up to go, but turns back at the last moment.
'Susie, do you actually know who my father was?'
Here it is, a get-out clause. All Susie has to do is say no and that will be the end of the matter. Faye need never know. Yet, Susie can see the desperate plea in the eyes of her sister as if it was yesterday, and she knows she must not lie.
'Yes, I do know who you're father was. Is – as far as I know he's still alive.'
'Please Susie, please tell me. I have to know.'
'Are you sure? Because once you know a thing you can't un-know it.'
'Susie! If you love me at all, please tell me!'
Susie fixes her eyes on Faye. 'Your father...'
'Yes?' Faye can barely breathe at all; the thought that she might not know his name doesn't matter, this faceless man will have a name, and that is all that she cares about.
'Your father is Captain Jack Sparrow.'
Faye sits down heavily on the floor, dazed. She hears thuds of feet, and feels strong arms lift her up. She sees her uncle's face smiling quizzically at her as her carries her back up to her bed, no questions asked. Her father is not a faceless man. She knows his face as well as she knows her own. As if she saw it in the mirror every morning.
***
Do I need to say anything? No, except: please review!
