A/N: I'm in a bit of a spot at the moment; I'm trying to sort out future happenings in this story. I've got a few ideas floating around in my head, so I need to decide which ones will be best to use, so be patient ^_^
I just want to make sure of something about Jack's speech. 'Ye' is pronounced 'yeh', not 'yee' in this context. If you pronounce it as 'yee' in this fic, Jack will sound pretty weird when he's talking, lol.
Mecano_Girl: Thank you once again for your review! Oh, and don't worry, there are plenty more arguments to come throughout!
Here's Chapter 8! Hope you all like it : ) And if you do, or even if you don't, please review it! Thanks.
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As she was pulled into the town, Lorraine felt a sudden rise of exhilaration; the town was alive and busy, there were ordinary people rushing to and fro buying food, materials and cloth, trading items and haggling over prices at market stalls. Over at one stand someone was selling some delicious-looking, large red apples and Lorraine suddenly realised how hungry she was. After all, she had hardly eaten a crumb during the past few days because she had been feeling so ill, but then again, the ship was very low on supplies anyway. The food on the ship for the past week was awful; all the fresh fruit had been eaten or gone mouldy, the bread was stale and hard, the meat was chewy and far too salty and the water was dirty. It definitely was a relief to be back on land again.
Although this place seemed friendly enough, it still wasn't home, and Lorraine's anticipation to leave for Orchila was already rising, even though they had only just docked.
She leaned towards the fruit stall hoping that Sparrow would stop and allow her to get an apple. He showed no signs of slowing down, so Lorraine tried to dig her bare feet into the ground and she leaned backwards trying to pull free of the captain's hand. He stopped and glanced around, his face carefree and lighthearted.
"What ye doin'?"
"I'm hungry…" she whined, nodding over to the stall and then looking back up at Sparrow pleadingly.
"Ah, don't worry, love. I'm not about to let ye starve! We'll get some fodder soon."
Lorraine didn't like the term 'fodder' to be used instead of 'food'. After all, that term was usually used to refer to the feed for farm animals. Her stomach rumbled and she winced as she grew ever hungrier.
*****
The streets were dusty and filled with rubbish, and Lorraine was constantly watching her feet should she step into something unpleasant. Her feet were cold and dirty; she couldn't even remember when she had lost her shoes. She never had any whilst she was on the Black Pearl, that's for sure.
She and the captain passed many pubs, which Lorraine thought was rather unusual. The average town would have about four pubs, but she had already lost count here. There seemed be at least one in every direction you looked, in each turning you took from any street. They weren't very busy – as if a single town needed so many!
They walked and walked, first taking a left from the main street, then going left again, then right and straight ahead, then along an alleyway that reeked of excrement. Lorraine swore she saw a rat the size of a tabby cat.
"Mr. Sparrow, Mr.-"
"Captain Sparrow, if you please." He corrected her automatically.
"I want to get out. There was a huge rat just there…" she turned and pointed back to a crate they had just passed in the alleyway.
"Nah, it was only a moggy. We'll be there soon." He reassured her calmly.
"Where, exactly?"
"The Gallopin' Horse. It's jus' round the corner…"
"And, that is…?"
"It's an inn, love."
She nodded in understanding. Thank goodness she wouldn't have to spend the night on the ship!
Captain Jack Sparrow remained true to his word, for they soon emerged out of the stinking alley and out onto a main street, and to their left was the inn he had mentioned.
He stopped outside the door and turned to Lorraine, bending down so as to be level with her as he spoke.
"It's still goin' to be a while until we get any food, so you –" he flicked a shilling coin and she caught it in her palm, "go get an apple for yerself while I talk to the innkeeper."
Lorraine thanked him and rushed over to the nearest stall to pick the biggest, juiciest, shiniest apple of the bunch. She held it in her hand, gazing at it hungrily as her famished stomach rumbled. Lorraine cursed the queue of about five or so people in front of her: why did they have to buy so much at this particular moment?! The shilling coin in her hand was cold, and it suddenly brought back memories of the day, her birthday, when her mother had sent her out to get some bread and fruit. Who would have known that simple request could lead to all of this?
Someone behind her shoved her forward, pulling her out of her thoughts and realising that she was next in the queue. She paid for the apple and turned to see the captain swaggering out of the inn, a satisfied grin on his face. He walked in such an odd way; he would put one foot almost exactly in front of the other with each step, his hips swayed and one arm would always be bent and hovering horizontally at his waist. He looked intoxicated with alcohol most of the time due to his drunken walk.
"Off we go then!" he said, grabbing Lorraine's free hand as she bit into the apple. She wished he'd stop hauling her about like a dog with a rope.
*****
The two stood at the bar and Sparrow waited for the 'tender to take their order.
"The usual, Rinely."
"Jus' a moment." The bartender poured some amber liquid into a grimy-looking mug as Sparrow drummed his fingers on the worn, wooden counter.
"Anythin' for you, lass?" Sparrow asked her, glancing down and holding his hand on her shoulder. She stepped up closer to the bar so that his hand would slip off.
"Water, please."
"An' Riley, some water for the lil' lady here."
"Rightio, Jack. Comin' right up."
Jack took a mug in each hand and led Lorraine over to a table to the side of the pub where there was a side sofa. He stopped to let her go in first and she nodded, appreciating his politeness, and edged her way around the table so that she could sit down. Sparrow came soon after her and set the drinks on the table.
"So, what do ye think?" he asked her before taking a sip of his drink.
"Of what?"
"Of this! Tortuga! What do ye think of it?"
"Oh. Well, it's tolerable, I guess." She replied; she'd still rather be back home. At this the captain sighed defeatedly.
"There's no pleasin' you, is there? Firs' ye don't like me Pearl, then ye don't like this," he indicated the town by raising both his arms and spreading them out before lowering them again, "and all you do is whine about food and going back to ye mum and dad." Lorraine blushed and hung her head low so as to gaze at her cold, filthy feet and the grimy floor. "I begin to wonder if there is anythin' ye can do." He sighed exasperatedly.
With this she clumsily got up, knocking over the apple core that stood near the edge of the table and almost spilling her mug of water over her dress as she clambered out of the corner. She briskly walked out of the pub and struggled as she tried to heave open the door. She knew Sparrow was trying to catch up with her, so she desperately pulled at the heavy object. One jerk and the door opened to a distance of about one-and-a-half feet; she quickly slid out and gathered her long skirts before the heavy door could close in on them and before the captain to slip through too.
Lorraine glanced back and felt tears stinging her eyes, but, determined not to look like a pathetic little child; she blinked a few times and rolled her eyes up to the sky to stop the tears from spilling out. She swallowed and then cleared her throat before walking away from the pub and finding a shop wall to lean against as she composed herself.
It wasn't fair. He had no right to accuse her of whining and moaning all the time, she didn't choose to be kidnapped. Why did all of this have to happen to her? Alongside that, she didn't really know what to make of Captain Jack Sparrow; most of the time he was friendly and cheerful, almost like an uncle to her; but sometimes he'd act strange, which made Lorraine feel uncomfortable.
But he was a pirate. They existed to make people uncomfortable, scared, unsure and worried. She found herself thinking this over and over again, and she'd always end up at the same conclusion. It was pointless fretting over her bad luck all the time, besides, she'd be going home soon, than goodness.
The blur of chatter from the pub suddenly rose and a sheet of light stretched across the cobbled street as the tavern door opened, so Lorraine stuck her head out to see Jack Sparrow stumbling out of the bar with a rather disgracefully dressed young woman clinging on to him. She wore heavy eye make-up that Lorraine could see even from where she was standing, and her hair was pinned up with wispy strands falling about her blushing face.
Lorraine felt a tinge of jealousy at the older girl on the captain's arm – she wished she could be older, with a boy to kiss and love; a boy who would love her in return, who would tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, whispering sweet terms of affection as he pulled her into an embrace. Every time she so much as glanced at a boy in the street whilst out with her parents, she would be scolded and reminded that she was not a peasant girl who just put her life in the hands of whichever boy she chooses.
She knew that a marriage would be arranged for her within the next few years, and that it would probably be to a man at least ten years her senior who was rich, snobby, stuffy and who only married to get respect and gain a profit from the wedding dowry given to him by the bride's family. Oh what a cynical view the upper classes of society had on marriage.
Sparrow spoke loudly and his words were slurred as he drunkenly staggered down the cobbled streets with the girl. She appeared to be listening eagerly, yet Lorraine could see she was taking in less than half of what he was saying.
"An' then, I ran over to it, all brave and strong y'know, and I says to it "Ye migh' want t' turn around now, mate. Ye can't 'urt me." An' th' bull jus' snorts an' pulls 'is 'oof back in th' dust, like 'e's 'bout t' charge, an' I manage t' single-handedly pull th' beast down t' th' ground an' break 'is neck so quickly he didn't even know what was 'appening t' 'im."
Lorraine rolled her eyes and scoffed. Likely story, that was. The tavern-girl seemed to be loving this more than what he had been saying previously, though.
"Wow! How'd yew do that? Yew must be reeeeaally strong to do that!"
"O' course I am, darlin'! An' we all know why that is…" he raised his eyebrow and winked at the girl walking backwards down the street as she faced him.
"Why's that, sir?" she asked playfully, obviously knowing the answer. Her innocently girlish voice made Lorraine want to slap her right across her blushing face.
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." It seemed to be a phrase he never tired of. The girl giggled loudly as Sparrow smiled seductively at her.
As her annoyingly unceasing giggling continued, she tripped backwards over her skirts and fell on her backside. Lorraine smirked, that should shut her up. Then the captain tripped over the girl herself and fell straight on top of her. They both giggled and Lorraine growled silently as they started kissing passionately.
She leant back against the wall and remained silent until she heard their footsteps start and then gradually fade as they went down the street.
So what was she to do now? The captain was…well, 'occupied' with other business, she couldn't remember the name of the inn let alone where it was again, and she didn't know her way back to the docks, so she wouldn't even be able to get back to the Black Pearl as a last resort.
Panic began to set it; she didn't have any money and had nowhere to go. Sparrow was long gone by now, and he was her only guide on this island.
Lorraine slowly wandered down the street, not really knowing where she was walking, whilst trying to think of what to do. She could just walk around all night until morning and then hope to come across the captain at some point, or she could just find a doorway that she could crouch in whilst trying to get some sleep.
A loud bell sounded and echoed through the town. It rang again, and she soon realised that it was a church bell. She counted the number of times its clear notes chimed: it stopped at eleven. So, it was eleven o'clock. Even at this late hour it would still be a long night for Lorraine.
*****
Her feet dragged along the dirty street as she walked, and she was trying to keep her eyes open for as long as possible. She stumbled over a bottle every now and then, but managed not to fall quite as disgracefully as Sparrow's partner had done so earlier.
Lorraine's eyes were aimed at the ground again, and she watched her bare feet lift up, move forward and then go down on the cool cobbles with each step. She would look up every few moments to see where she was going, and on this occasion she cursed as she saw that she had reached a dead end. She sighed and stared at the bloody wall blocking her way, resisting the urge to run up and just kick it in spite. Actually, she would have done so had it not been made of bricks and stones. A large hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder and she jumped in shock, a shriek escaping from her mouth as she was spun around.