"Scullery, this is, is..." Jack waved his arms helplessly at the girl, who
was fidgeting with her curls and developing a convincing innocent blush.
"Katie, ain't it?" She stuck out a plump, shapely arm and interrupted as I attempted to correct her. "I'm Ginny, short for Gwendolyn – ain't it awful." I ignored her.
"Jack, I just wanted to, to say... before you, I." Ginny continued curling her hair as she idly picked the pockets of a man embroiled in conversation with a skinny red-head, Jack watched approvingly and neither seemed to be listening to me. "Never mind." I plunged back into the crowd and willed myself not to look back.
"'Ello sweet'eart," Drawled an old, toothless sailor "'Ow would ye like a pretty piece o' gold?"
"No thank you." I replied curtly as I sulked by the makeshift bar. My ugliness didn't seem to be discouraging the customers, but despite the tips Ana had given me I couldn't bring myself to fawn over these drunken sweaty fiends the way the other girls seemed able to do. Presently the hour grew late and the men lolled around on the floor; either felled by drink or too sated to move. I crept away with the other girls. In the tiny room I shared with Ana I found my space in the bed taken up by the young sailor.
After that, hours and days seemed meaningless to me though, looking back, I could not have been at Red house more than a week. Ana set about her work with a kind of joyless determination, concentrating furiously on the gossip and scandals of the local girls she refused to talk about the Pearl, or sailing and least of all; Jack. She laughed often, and her cheeks were like as not to be found red from fair does of grog. But the light, the light I used to see in her eyes when the sun rose over the horizon we sailed towards or when the mainsail was fully unfurled, that was gone and looked never to return.
The scandal of living in a brothel left little impression on me, for you see, I did not a single 'job' as the girls termed it, the whole time I was there. A few of the girls were young and even pretty, like Gwendolyn, but most were over thirty-five and were rouged and corseted to the point of the grotesque. However, most of these well-worn women were mothers, and kindly ones at that; so they contrived to make me into something of a pet. The idea that I was a Lady 'brought down in the world' was of infinite romance to them, and the rumour that the famously virile Jack Sparrow might be involved brought me fame. Mostly I was found some light domestic work.
Ana seemed to dislike this treatment of me, and though she was mostly kind in word and deed there were times when I knew she resented my treatment and association with Jack. One night, I believe it may have been the seventh or eighth night at Red house; Ana had taken in a fair amount of grog and gin whilst visiting a cousin and began an argument as she prepared to venture out to the taverns.
"I ain't impressed yer know, and neithers nobody else." She muttered angrily, hitching up her bosom as I made up the beds in our tiny room. "yer cooked on the Pearl, yer clean 'ere, yer ain't training fer some finishin' school – yer livin' wiv' whores an' pirates." I remained silent.
"Think yer too good yer this work, ain't put a silk dress on since the first night. Come down to the pub wiv' me, if yer liver ain't too yeller."
"I'm not afraid, Ana." Turning my back, so she would not see the lie.
"Then come out."
"I can't, Trudy asked me to do all these beds."
"leave 'em, no bugger cleaned 'em before you – they'll last one night."
"Ana..."
"if yer don't come out t'night, then we're through, yer 'ear me? I'm sick o' yer 'aughty ways and simperin' an' sighin' over this an' that. Sick, d'yer 'ear me?"
I looked up and caught her face in the mirror, her hands shaking as she rimmed her lids with kohl. I put my arms about her shoulders and met the eye of her reflection with a small smile.
"Then I'll come out."
So I returned to the Three Turtles and, fortified with a tot of gin made a half-heated attempt at bawdy conversation with the locals. At the stroke of midnight Ana had disappeared and, aside from the friendly hand of a midshipman, which I shook off after pocketing a farthing, I was alone.
"My good lady," I turned in surprise to hear such a cultivated voice amongst the rabble of the Three Turtles. The owner of the voice was a sharply dressed young man of about twenty-one or two, handsome, but on second glance his clothes and face were worn, much like mine, "My good lady" He repeated "Would you care for a drink?" I blushed at hearing such courtesy
"My good sir." I replied sincerely "I would like nothing more."
"A flagon of wine for this fine creature." He pronounced grandly, the barmaid raised her eyebrows at such extravagance, but complied.
Lieutenant Audrey, it transpired, had been sent off to the Navy by a tyrannous farther. Not having taken to military life he quickly absconded from his ship and found himself a pirates birth an the galleon 'Revenge' named by a pretentious Captain after Bartholomew Robert's ship 'Queen Anne's Revenge'. He claimed he saw no real action here but a lot of 'faff and fiddle' from the fashion-conscious crew. So when they came ashore at Tortuga, he slipped away.
"... And here I am." He finished with a flourish.
"My goodness," I breathed, in what I knew full well to be a simpering mixture of the fawning of whores and the language of ballrooms and banquets. "And what do you plan to do now?"
He described the merchant hip had had bartered passage on, which sailed in three days time. It was an honest, but lowly ship, he admitted. Its crew scratching out a living by running carpentry supplies from mainland Hispaniola to the otherwise shunned Tortuga. As he spoke, describing his plans to sail on from Hispaniola to the Americas and set up a homestead, he poured more wine.
"A man can really breath out there Catherine, there's no Burke's peerage, or military duty; just miles and miles of fresh plains, lofty mountains and lush green forests." His eyes seemed to mist over slightly and in a sudden movement he clasped my hand. "Some say there's gold to be found, but that's not for me – all I want is a house, some land to farm and a wife to look after me and give me children." Here he caught my eye, and I looked away, blushing. I had learnt enough about seduction from Jack but this an made me feel like a young girl at court again.
Presently the bar began to clear, and the barmaid cleaned glasses and looked at us pointedly.
"Look here," Audrey spoke suddenly "Where are you staying? This place is deadly at night – will you let me escort you home?"
"Oh no!" I blurted out, imagining Audrey leading me up to Red House and realising who I was, what I was. "I mean, no, I have no where."
"well then you must permit me to find you a room in my own quarters, come." He offered his arm, and sinking into the well-known dance of etiquette I took it and stepped lightly off the stool, my days as a pirates scullery seeming years away.
We walked silently through the rowdy streets. I blissfully ignored the grog- sickened faces, the screeching of whores and the earthy curses and imagined myself stepping down the avenue at home, with a dashing soldier on my arm.
We reached a inn at the harbour, though it was no less shabby than any other I could not imagine Audrey choosing anything less than the best in town.
"Catherine, I wonder if I may be so bold," Audrey spoke up as we stood outside the door to the room he had procured for me. My heart leapt.
"Yes?"
"I don't want to seem improper, but may I have a kiss." I smiled a long, slow smile and offered my cheek, the imprint of his soft lips and tickly moustache tingled on my face as I settled down to sleep.
"Katie, ain't it?" She stuck out a plump, shapely arm and interrupted as I attempted to correct her. "I'm Ginny, short for Gwendolyn – ain't it awful." I ignored her.
"Jack, I just wanted to, to say... before you, I." Ginny continued curling her hair as she idly picked the pockets of a man embroiled in conversation with a skinny red-head, Jack watched approvingly and neither seemed to be listening to me. "Never mind." I plunged back into the crowd and willed myself not to look back.
"'Ello sweet'eart," Drawled an old, toothless sailor "'Ow would ye like a pretty piece o' gold?"
"No thank you." I replied curtly as I sulked by the makeshift bar. My ugliness didn't seem to be discouraging the customers, but despite the tips Ana had given me I couldn't bring myself to fawn over these drunken sweaty fiends the way the other girls seemed able to do. Presently the hour grew late and the men lolled around on the floor; either felled by drink or too sated to move. I crept away with the other girls. In the tiny room I shared with Ana I found my space in the bed taken up by the young sailor.
After that, hours and days seemed meaningless to me though, looking back, I could not have been at Red house more than a week. Ana set about her work with a kind of joyless determination, concentrating furiously on the gossip and scandals of the local girls she refused to talk about the Pearl, or sailing and least of all; Jack. She laughed often, and her cheeks were like as not to be found red from fair does of grog. But the light, the light I used to see in her eyes when the sun rose over the horizon we sailed towards or when the mainsail was fully unfurled, that was gone and looked never to return.
The scandal of living in a brothel left little impression on me, for you see, I did not a single 'job' as the girls termed it, the whole time I was there. A few of the girls were young and even pretty, like Gwendolyn, but most were over thirty-five and were rouged and corseted to the point of the grotesque. However, most of these well-worn women were mothers, and kindly ones at that; so they contrived to make me into something of a pet. The idea that I was a Lady 'brought down in the world' was of infinite romance to them, and the rumour that the famously virile Jack Sparrow might be involved brought me fame. Mostly I was found some light domestic work.
Ana seemed to dislike this treatment of me, and though she was mostly kind in word and deed there were times when I knew she resented my treatment and association with Jack. One night, I believe it may have been the seventh or eighth night at Red house; Ana had taken in a fair amount of grog and gin whilst visiting a cousin and began an argument as she prepared to venture out to the taverns.
"I ain't impressed yer know, and neithers nobody else." She muttered angrily, hitching up her bosom as I made up the beds in our tiny room. "yer cooked on the Pearl, yer clean 'ere, yer ain't training fer some finishin' school – yer livin' wiv' whores an' pirates." I remained silent.
"Think yer too good yer this work, ain't put a silk dress on since the first night. Come down to the pub wiv' me, if yer liver ain't too yeller."
"I'm not afraid, Ana." Turning my back, so she would not see the lie.
"Then come out."
"I can't, Trudy asked me to do all these beds."
"leave 'em, no bugger cleaned 'em before you – they'll last one night."
"Ana..."
"if yer don't come out t'night, then we're through, yer 'ear me? I'm sick o' yer 'aughty ways and simperin' an' sighin' over this an' that. Sick, d'yer 'ear me?"
I looked up and caught her face in the mirror, her hands shaking as she rimmed her lids with kohl. I put my arms about her shoulders and met the eye of her reflection with a small smile.
"Then I'll come out."
So I returned to the Three Turtles and, fortified with a tot of gin made a half-heated attempt at bawdy conversation with the locals. At the stroke of midnight Ana had disappeared and, aside from the friendly hand of a midshipman, which I shook off after pocketing a farthing, I was alone.
"My good lady," I turned in surprise to hear such a cultivated voice amongst the rabble of the Three Turtles. The owner of the voice was a sharply dressed young man of about twenty-one or two, handsome, but on second glance his clothes and face were worn, much like mine, "My good lady" He repeated "Would you care for a drink?" I blushed at hearing such courtesy
"My good sir." I replied sincerely "I would like nothing more."
"A flagon of wine for this fine creature." He pronounced grandly, the barmaid raised her eyebrows at such extravagance, but complied.
Lieutenant Audrey, it transpired, had been sent off to the Navy by a tyrannous farther. Not having taken to military life he quickly absconded from his ship and found himself a pirates birth an the galleon 'Revenge' named by a pretentious Captain after Bartholomew Robert's ship 'Queen Anne's Revenge'. He claimed he saw no real action here but a lot of 'faff and fiddle' from the fashion-conscious crew. So when they came ashore at Tortuga, he slipped away.
"... And here I am." He finished with a flourish.
"My goodness," I breathed, in what I knew full well to be a simpering mixture of the fawning of whores and the language of ballrooms and banquets. "And what do you plan to do now?"
He described the merchant hip had had bartered passage on, which sailed in three days time. It was an honest, but lowly ship, he admitted. Its crew scratching out a living by running carpentry supplies from mainland Hispaniola to the otherwise shunned Tortuga. As he spoke, describing his plans to sail on from Hispaniola to the Americas and set up a homestead, he poured more wine.
"A man can really breath out there Catherine, there's no Burke's peerage, or military duty; just miles and miles of fresh plains, lofty mountains and lush green forests." His eyes seemed to mist over slightly and in a sudden movement he clasped my hand. "Some say there's gold to be found, but that's not for me – all I want is a house, some land to farm and a wife to look after me and give me children." Here he caught my eye, and I looked away, blushing. I had learnt enough about seduction from Jack but this an made me feel like a young girl at court again.
Presently the bar began to clear, and the barmaid cleaned glasses and looked at us pointedly.
"Look here," Audrey spoke suddenly "Where are you staying? This place is deadly at night – will you let me escort you home?"
"Oh no!" I blurted out, imagining Audrey leading me up to Red House and realising who I was, what I was. "I mean, no, I have no where."
"well then you must permit me to find you a room in my own quarters, come." He offered his arm, and sinking into the well-known dance of etiquette I took it and stepped lightly off the stool, my days as a pirates scullery seeming years away.
We walked silently through the rowdy streets. I blissfully ignored the grog- sickened faces, the screeching of whores and the earthy curses and imagined myself stepping down the avenue at home, with a dashing soldier on my arm.
We reached a inn at the harbour, though it was no less shabby than any other I could not imagine Audrey choosing anything less than the best in town.
"Catherine, I wonder if I may be so bold," Audrey spoke up as we stood outside the door to the room he had procured for me. My heart leapt.
"Yes?"
"I don't want to seem improper, but may I have a kiss." I smiled a long, slow smile and offered my cheek, the imprint of his soft lips and tickly moustache tingled on my face as I settled down to sleep.