Usual disclaimers… get used to them!
And yet again, the first word of the chapter is…. Jack!
Chapter 20 – London
Jack looked at the docks of London wearily, dourly realising how little they had changed. The journey had been rough and they had been forced further east than he had wanted by a number of vicious storms, which had lost them the best winds, causing the ship to take far longer than usual to cross the ocean. He sighed as an officious looking man with a heavy ledger walked along the dock towards them. "Remember who we are," he cautioned the men, putting on his most welcoming smile for the approaching official who had stopped at the base of the gangplank. Jack walked down to meet him, smoothing the creases in his frock coat as he went. None of the men looked like pirates and Jack looked the part of a respectable merchant captain.
"Who are you an' what's your cargo, Sir?" the man asked, clearly bored with his duty.
"Captain Johnson," Jack replied, his smile unwavering. "I've a cargo of sugar and rum from th' Caribbean…"
"You'll be paying duties on those," the man smiled. "How much of each item?" He grunted as Jack told him the extent of the cargo, totting figures up in the ledger. "That will be a duty of six gold pieces," he reasoned, nodding as Jack placed each coin into his clutching hand. "And a mooring fee of five shillings…" Jack handed over more money and gratefully took his receipt. "Good day to you, Sir," the man nodded.
"It's Captain," Jack reminded him sourly.
"Captain… my apologies," the man coloured. "May I wish you good trading..."
"Thank you," Jack replied, grateful to see the official turn and walk further down the dock to another ship that had just arrived. He turned to his own ship. "Gibbs, yer know th' city – sell th' cargo fer as good a price as yer can." He grinned. "Might as well make a good profit."
"Aye, Captain," Joshamee replied, walking down the gangplank to stand beside him. "Will you be needin' anybody t' go with you?"
"No," Jack replied, looking slowly along the dockside as he spoke. "I go alone."
"Well take care then," his quartermaster cautioned, watching as Jack quickly disappeared in the crowds.
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Jack sighed, looking at the run-down frontage of The Leathern Bottle, realising he could not put off going in any longer. He had run away when a teenager, stowing away on one of the many ships at the docks. There had been times he had wished he had not done so, but the good times had on the whole outweighed the bad. Indeed, if he had not been a pirate, he would never have met Bessie. He wondered if she was inside or out shopping, and what she made of the city for it was far larger than anything she had ever encountered before. He took a deep breath and walked across the narrow street, pushing open the door.
He blinked, his eyes taking a moment to grow accustomed to the dim, smoky interior. By memory, he made his way over to the bar. "Ale," he ordered, slapping his money down on the bar. He did not recognise the man serving, so took his drink to a table and waited. Finally, after another ale, he recognised someone and made his way back to the bar.
"Jacob," he said quietly. "Can we speak somewhere private?"
His younger brother turned sharply, blinking with surprise. "John?" he gasped, staring at the respectable looking gentleman before him. "John? Is it really you?"
Jack grinned. "Aye…"
Jacob looked around, realising that they were drawing curious glances from the other customers. "You'd best come into the back…" he offered, leading the way through the bar to the family rooms.
"Is Father about?" Jack asked cautiously, not eager to be reunited with him.
"No… he died… must be seven years ago now. Mother followed soon after." A fist shot out, catching Jack full in the face. "You bastard!" he cursed. "You broke mother's heart, you useless shit!"
Jack grimaced, wiping the blood from his lip. "And a hearty welcome to you too, brother," he said sarcastically.
"Why did you come back anyway?" Jacob demanded. "You never cared for th' place when you lived here! You'd better be gone before James gets home – he's been wanting t' kill you for years!"
Jack frowned. Clearly feelings between him and his older brother had not improved during their years of separation. "I'm looking for my wife…" he ventured. Even if she had not known his true surname, he could try to trace her from the ship that she arrived on.
"Wife?" Jacob gasped. "Somebody was dumb enough to marry you?" He frowned, looking at Jack. "Why do you think she'd be here?"
"M' wife an' children left the Caribbean three months ago, heading here," he explained. "On th' Jolly Maid from Port Royal…"
"The Jolly Maid?" Jacob frowned, trying to recall why the name sounded familiar. "The Jolly…." He paused, looking sharply at his brother. Although he had hated his brother for deserting the family for many years, he found it hard to look him in the eyes as he realised why he recognised the name of the ship. He sighed heavily, remembering the gossip in the tavern from a number of weeks before. She had been carrying a full cargo of cotton and a number of those that had invested in her had been ruined. "The Jolly Maid was lost off Bermuda," he said quietly.
Jack went pale. "Any survivors?" he gasped, supporting himself against a chair.
Jacob shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "You'd best head to the insurers… they'd be the ones to know." Jack nodded numbly, turning without speaking. "Will you be all right?"
"I'll tell yer later…" he said, walking from the room in a daze., through the bar and back out onto the street The ship had been lost. The enormity of it threatened to overwhelm him and he leaned back against a wall, his head in his hands. Were Bessie and the children dead? He reached for his dagger as a shadow fell across him, but it was only his brother.
"I think I'll go with you," Jacob said. "You're in little state t' be left on yer own…"
Jack shook his head. "I'll be fine…"
"An' do you know where the insurers are?" Jacob reasoned. "They hadn't even formed when you were last here…" Jack shook his head ruefully. "Come on, I'll show you."
Jack followed his brother through the familiar streets of London, to a more prosperous part of town. He stopped outside of a newly built property, taking off his cap before walking inside. Jack, too, removed his hat and entered.
"Can I help you?" an officious looking clerk looked up at them, instantly dismissing Jacob in his workman's clothes and turning to Jack.
"I'm lookin' fer information on th' Jolly Maid," he said, dreading the man's reply.
"And pray what would your interest be?" the man said, looking suspiciously at him.
"M' wife and children were aboard," Jack said, his voice catching. "I know th' ship was lost… but can yer tell me if there were any survivors?"
The man regarded Jack for agonising moments. "I'll have to ask permission of the partners," he said, the grief and worry on Jack's face persuading him of the honesty of his words. He disappeared into a back room, returning a few minutes later with a heavy ledger. "The Jolly Maid, you say..." He flipped through the book, eventually finding the page he was looking for. "Ah, yes. She went down off Bermuda and all cargo was lost…"
"And passengers?" Jack prompted, caring little for bales of cotton or whatever else the ship might have been carrying. "What about the passengers?"
The clerk closed the book slowly. "I am sorry, Sir. The accounts say nothing about passengers, merely that the ship and cargo was lost in an unseasonal storm." He paused, before continuing sympathetically. "The report was filed by the ship's quartermaster, Oliver Trescoe, at Hamilton. If anybody would know about any passengers, it would be him."
"And where would I find him?" Jack demanded.
"I am afraid I do not know," the clerk replied. "Although I would suggest that you try asking in Hamilton…"
"Bermuda then." Jack nodded. "Thank yer," he replied numbly, still stunned by the news. He had come to London in the expectation of a reunion with Bessie and the children and now he did not know if they were alive or dead. What was he going to do?
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Da-da-dum… reviews girls?
