Author's note: thanks for the enthusiastic encouragement; much appreciated!
Chapter 2
Billy gaped. Before him, Jack Sparrow, self-avowed pirate, stood grinning. Elizabeth and Will were exchanging exasperated, annoyed glances.
"My grandfather was a pirate?" Billy said, eventually. He had managed to accept quickly that Jack Sparrow was a buccaneer - after all, he looked the part, what with his coat and weapons, hat and decorations. But Billy could not work out how his grandfather could have been a pirate. "How does a pirate get to be governor of Jamaica?"
The three adults looked at each other, and burst out laughing.
"Oh, sweetheart!" said Elizabeth, coming to lay a hand on Billy's shoulder. "Not your grandfather here. He's my papa, you know that. He has never been a pirate." Her lips twitched. "Can you see him dressed like Captain Sparrow?"
Billy examined the visitor, and shook his head. "No."
"Jack's talking about my father," Will said, quietly. "You never knew him. He … he died, before you were born, Billy."
"Good man," put in Jack Sparrow.
"Your father was a pirate, Papa?" Billy confirmed, looking at Will.
Will nodded. "Yes. Yes, he was."
Eyes wide, Billy said, "Gosh." He turned to his mother. "Like in those stories you used to tell me at bedtime?"
Now Elizabeth was the subject of an accusing glare, from her husband. She coloured, and shrugged. "It was a long time ago, Will, when Billy was little. I didn't think he would remember."
"Dare say he doesn't remember meeting ol' Jack before," said Jack Sparrow, who had been observing proceedings with a slight smile. "You were but a mite of a thing, lad. Pulled my hair somethin' rotten."
Billy turned his attention back to the pirate in the room. "How old was I? Did I see your ship? Where is it now?"
"She," said Jack, emphasising the word with a raised finger, "is anchored close by. I don't recall you did see her. You were … I dunno, three?"
"Can I see her this time?" asked Billy. The thought of a real live pirate ship, with more real live pirates on it, was thrilling.
"Of course," said Jack Sparrow.
"Maybe," said Elizabeth, cautiously.
"Certainly not!" said Will.
"Why not?" Billy said.
"Enough questions," his mother cut in, turning her son and pushing him towards the door. "Now, remember what we said. That Jack is here is a big secret. You must not tell anyone."
"Especially bloo … the commodore," interrupted Jack, quickly. "That's very important, lad."
Billy nodded. He could see that the stern commodore, who would occasionally let Billy and his friends visit the fort and touch the marines' bayonets, would not like the fact that his parents were friends with a pirate captain.
"So off to bed now, darling," said Elizabeth. "Jack will still be here in the morning."
"Will I?" Jack asked.
"If you don't run away," Will said. "Good night, Billy."
"Night, Papa. G'night, Mama. Night, Captain Sparrow."
In his small room, Billy undressed slowly and tried to listen to the adults talking downstairs. But they were speaking too softly, and he gave up and climbed into bed. Estrella arrived to put his clothes away and tuck him up and blow out his candle.
"Did Mama tell you about the visitor?" Billy asked, sleepily.
Estrella paused by the door. "That she did, Master Billy. It's been a while since Capt'in Sparrow came to visit. Dare say you don't remember him."
"No." He yawned. "How long will he stay?"
"Oh, not long, I shouldn't imagine," said Estrella. "Now, sleep well, Master Billy."
He smiled at her, and snuggled down underneath the quilt that had once been his mother's.
That night Billy dreamed of pirates. He dreamed of the flamboyant Jack Sparrow on board a ship, waving a giant black and white flag. He dreamed of a man who looked a bit like his father, close to Jack Sparrow, in a big hat with a feather. Then he dreamed his mother was there too, dragging the man who looked like his father - and who suddenly was his father - away from Jack Sparrow.
He woke with a start, the covers kicked away, and lay still in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. The house was quiet, and still. Billy blinked a few times, before rearranging his covers and going back to a deep, dreamless sleep.
In the morning he was awoken by Estrella with a basin of warm water. Getting out of bed he remembered about the pirate in the house, and dressed quickly to hurry downstairs.
Jack Sparrow was sitting incongruously in the kitchen eating bread and honey, some of which had stuck to his neat little braided beard. Billy slid into a seat opposite him and set to his own breakfast.
"Mornin', lad," said Jack Sparrow, through a mouthful.
"Good morning, sir," Billy returned, spreading honey on a slice of Estrella's bread.
"Polite little thing, ain't you?" the pirate captain commented. Billy concentrated on his breakfast, all too aware of Jack Sparrow's intent scrutiny. A few minutes of silence, interrupted only by the chewing of bread, followed, during which Billy tried to get his courage up to ask a question. "So you've never wanted to go to sea?" asked Sparrow, eventually.
"No," said Billy. "I'm going to learn how to make swords, like Papa. You know he makes them for all the officers in the fort?"
"Unfortunately, I do," Sparrow said. "Makes 'em all too well, too. So you really want to be a blacksmith, eh?"
Billy considered the question. "Ye-es," he replied, eventually. "It's a good trade. And Papa's going to teach me to use a sword too, because he says you can't make them if you can't use them."
Sparrow nodded. "Wise words. Useful thing to know, how t' use a blade. Your father's one o' the best, you know that?"
"That's what Commodore Norrington says, too," Billy agreed.
The pirate raised his eyebrows.
"He does, does he? How is Norrington these days?"
"You know the commodore, sir?" Billy had abandoned his bread and honey for the moment.
Jack Sparrow grinned, showing off a mouthful of golden teeth.
"Aye, I know him. Or he knows me. Anyway, we know of each other. The bas … well, he tried to hang me once. Got as far as the rope round me neck, your grandpa and your ma lookin' on from the best seats in the house, when along comes your dad with a sword and a very nice hat, and rescues me! Had himself a little scrap with the executioner, we outran plenty of marines, and I escaped over the cliff edge."
Breakfast now entirely forgotten, Billy sat in wonderment.
"My father saved you from the commodore? But then what happened? Shouldn't he have been punished?"
"Commodore Norrington, persuaded by your grandfather, was good enough to let it pass - that one time," said Will, coming into the room. "Jack, have you been telling stories again?"
Looking innocent, Jack Sparrow shrugged. "Might 'ave been. Anyway, it's family history. The boy should hear it. Should have heard it years ago, if you'd been educatin' him properly."
"He's had an excellent education," Will said defensively. "He can read and write, add and subtract, and has a good grip on Latin."
"But can he talk his way out of a sticky situation, or fix a loose shroud, or tell you which way's larboard?" asked Sparrow. "'Course he can't. You've brought the lad up to be a landlubber, Will. Your father'd be disappointed."
"I doubt that very much," said Will. "I, after all, was originally due to be apprenticed to a bookbinder in Portsmouth. Not a very nautical occupation."
Sparrow frowned. "I didn't know that. Leastways, I don't recall Bill ever mentioning it."
"Because he knew you'd have talked him out of the idea, in all likelihood," Will pointed out. He looked across at Billy, who had resumed nibbling at his breakfast. "In any event, that time is past. We need to know what you want us to do. I fail to see how we can either mend the Black Pearl for you or heal your crew. Or stop Norrington from chasing you, should he be minded to do so." He paused. "Billy, take your bread outside."
"Leave the lad be, Will," said Sparrow. "He'll only listen at the window if you kick him out."
Billy flushed, and examined the knots in the tabletop to avoid meeting the pirate's gaze.
"Hmm," Will said. "Well, in any event, there's my dilemma. It's not that I - we - it's not that we're not happy to see you. I just can't see what we can do to help."
Sparrow nodded, and became suddenly businesslike. "Tools," he said. "The problem's this. Most of me crew come aboard with their own blades; usually rusting old things that've seen too many years and too much salt water. Now I don't know if we've had a run o' bad luck, or what - I don't think we got cursed again, though I may've missed it - but over the last months half of 'em have broken their swords. And they've taken to using what we have on board as weapons when we attack something. Long and the short of it is I don't reckon we've enough tools to finish the job quick enough, not when there's a mast to mend." He shrugged. "And we need new rope."
"I can't turn out that many blades for you as quickly as you'll need them," Will said.
"I'll pay."
"That's not the point," Will returned. Billy could see his father beginning to get exasperated. "I have a business, Jack. I've promised the fort another four rapiers and some spare bayonet blades by the end of the month."
"You must have some lying around that you've not sold?" said Sparrow. "My men aren't fussy. And as for the tools, I reckon a couple of good axes and some chisels will do us. My carpenter'll be eternally grateful."
"Doubtless."
Sparrow stood up, and came very close to Will; Billy, amused, watched his father retreat against the wall.
"I'll throw in all the broken ones for free," said the pirate. "They just need mending. Then you can resell them, for a profit, and everyone's happy."
"Except Norrington, when he doesn't get his blades and finds out I've been harbouring the Caribbean's most wanted man!" exclaimed Will.
Jack Sparrow threw down his hands, and moved away.
"All right then. Never mind. We'll manage. But how about this: we forget the blades, and the rope, and you and the lovely Lizzy and the lad come and pay a visit to the Pearl? Gibbs'd be pleased to see you. Despite his bashed head. And so would the old lady. She doesn't forget a debt, savvy?"
Will sighed, deeply. Billy waited to see what the answer would be. Finally, his father nodded.
"We'll come. It'll be a quick visit."
"Like lightening," Sparrow agreed. "Excellent! Sure Mrs Turner agrees?"
"Really," said Will, "she's keener than I am." He turned to Billy. "Run and find a coat, Billy. We're going to see Captain Sparrow's ship."