Beautiful, merciless and sweet smelling. These were words that most definitely did not describe Tortuga. It was, essentially, a playground for criminals. Most places the Queen's Navy could have some sort of control over but they had long given up with this town judging from the drunks lolling on the street corners, or the voluptuous women that stood, displaying their wares in most public houses. Young boys looking for adventure came to Tortuga, senses heightened by the rank odours and the anarchy of the town where night seemed to stretch on for moons. This died away eventually for the lush appearance of the flowing rum and women on every street corner was only a façade. Tortuga was a dangerous place to be and instead of beauty, mercy and happiness, murder, rape and theft were the rulers of this town and you wouldn't find any crowns sitting on thrones here, more like crowns in the hands of pirates.

"This wasn't where I wanted to be", thought Josephine as she stared out at the grubby existence that graced St. Johns Street. Realising how long she had stood there, she turned sharply away from the window whose corners left transparency long ago and sighed, returning to her usual haunt of sitting behind the counter waiting for something, that most definitely wasn't the average citizen in Tortuga.

She sat, books surrounding her, studying the latest addition to her collection: 'Mr. Claringe's: A Way for Women'. "Pure tripe really", she thought, mentally tossing the book out of the window. The usual degradation of women and self indulgence of man. She took off her glasses and took to gazing back out of the window. What greeted her was a tired face but shrewd blue eyes. Her dark brown hair that weaved down her shoulder, tied with a grubby piece of material annoyed her and some days she was tempted to cut it off with a knife but she never had the courage to do so.

She sat up straight and turned on her profile, trying to find her best angle but it was hard when you were resigned to believe that you had no best angle. She didn't necessarily want to look like the stunning but prim women that she read about but it would do to look as she did if you were on an adventure, then it wouldn't matter about looks but nerve she needed, and nerve she lacked. "Oh well, there was more in life than beauty", she told herself. There were books and well…

"It wasn't fair", she thought. She'd seen empty headed girls married to intellectuals in her childhood. Silly, pretty things who never had anything worthwhile to say and laughed at anything so much to think they would laugh in their beds. "I'm just as good as them, if not better!" And she smiled but cast her eyes down to 'Mr. Claringe's: A Way for Women' and caught the words; "the first rule is: don't be selfish! A selfish girl is not a selfish pearl!" Upon reading that she slammed the book shut and put it behind her. "Bad writing", she told herself.

"Jo!" Said a tall, but skinny young boy, stumbling through the door with a number of packages, making the bell on the door ring in dulcet tones. He was not bespectacled unlike Jo, but he had the same small lashings of freckles and the same wide smile, which today, looked tired.

"Brother!" Jo said once she had clarified all of the above. "Let me help you. I wasn't expecting you bad till after six I must admit…"

"Yes, works been quite barren today. It's hard when…"

"I know." There was a short pause as they looked into each others eyes for safety and for comfort in the town they lived in, in which safety and comfort somewhat lacked. "Let me get you some soup, you look half dead."

"It's alright Jo, I don't need anything. But I know I can always rely on you for self improving comments," he laughed.

"Well, you know me," she said bustling round in a small room next to library. "And of course I'll feed you. What is family for? I didn't sell much today either. But I always said: little use would come from books to pirates, buccaneers and thieves."

"And I always replied they could use them for foot stools Jo."

"Yes but Peter, you forget, they are already are being utilized in that way by the salesperson."

"Ah." Jo came through with a bowl of hot soup and a plate of bread. "Thanks."

"I know it's not much but… I better go and wash my hands and face."

"No Jo, wait." Peter turned round and ushered her to come and sit down. "There's something that best be out with."

"That best be out with? That's the locals talking Peter," Jo laughed and picked at a piece of bread. "Well, out with it then!"

He looked down and for a moment, Jo thought he would say nothing and then suddenly he looked up with a hard expression in his eyes. "Life is hard here Jo. It's hard to find work when you're not one of… one of them. It's not as easy as selling books in a shop. I'm out there with them, pushing past me, spitting on me, saying things I don't understand. There are no respectable trades people here Jo! They all have stories of piracy and as soon as one other man who has the same goods as me charms a customer with a story like that I don't stand a chance of selling anything. Who would buy from a posh voiced, whelp like me?"

"Having a good upbringing should surely make you more of a trustworthy tradesman?" Jo put forward.

Peter looked down and sighed. "Poor currency in this town Jo. The only currency is piracy." He looked up, and Jo stomach seemed to jolt downwards.

"Peter…"

"I am going away for a while."

Jo tried to salvage the situation. "Where? We have no relatives. Well, all except for Aunt 'stench' Sarah." She laughed, but it was hollow and she knew the blow would come.

"I'm going on a pirate ship."

"I knew this day would come." Jo swept up and faced Peter with a face of thunder. "We don't have to succumb to that! People don't always follow the crowd, we didn't! You can't do that Peter! It's against God's will! It's wrong! And immoral! And worst of all, I fear I won't see you again." A tear escaped out of Jo's eye and landed in the long forgotten soup.

"Not all men seek rest and peace; some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood, restless harbingers of violence and bloodshed, knowing no other path."

"Who told you that? Those aren't you're words!" Jo grabbed Peter's arm but he stood up and turned away.

"I've found a crew. They need someone who can read and it was lucky, they've just lost a crew member who I can replace."

"That could be you next time." A sob escaped Jo's mouth.

"I need freedom. I'll be back with money and more. A man needs more." Peter started towards the door. "I've already moved all I need. I'll be staying in an inn for a few nights, and then we'll be leaving." He opened the door and the clanging of the bell now sounded macabre as the darkening sky crept over the town.

"I need you to live." Jo said slowly, pleading into Peter's eyes.

"And I need to live." Peter escaped out the door and there was a deafening silence broken by the door slamming and a woman crying.