A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes
Scene 3: The Night Before The Hanging

It was with a thrill of surprise and relief that James recognised the slender figure at the quayside on his evening walk. He drew closer, the figure remaining as still as ever. It wasn't until he was close enough to see the moonlight shining on the fingers clamped round her sides that he spoke.

"I have not seen you out here for many nights."

"I have remained at home. I have a lot of cleaning to catch up on."

She did not look at him, her arms remained wrapped around her waist, fingers clenching in her sides. Her eyes remained locked on the distant horizon, scanning it intently.

"Will you be there tomorrow?" he asked tentatively.

"At Jack's hanging?" finally she looked at him. "Of course I will. I owe him that much."

She began to walk away, but it was a slow walk and she was not heading in the direction of the blacksmiths. He took it as an invitation and in two long strides he was at her side again.

"You do not agree with the sentence?"

"There's hardly a point in my choosing to agree or disagree – it is the sentence that is passed on every pirate. But, I agree with it about as much as Miss Swann does."

She shot him a shrewd look and he swung his gaze away, feeling the familiar burn of embarrassment when she made some startlingly accurate comment.

"You are correct. Miss Swann believes his actions merited a pardon."

"And you do not?"

"He is a pirate…"

"He is a scallywag and no more. A lying, mischievous, thieving, conning scally. And a good man."

"A good man?" James was exasperated. For as long as he had known her, Victoria Turner had been that rare breed – a good-humoured girl with a level head. He had respected her good sense and felt a kinship with that unselfish element in her character that meant she placed her brother before anything else, in the same why he tried to put others before his own desires. Yet here she was, getting sentimental about a pirate. And not just any pirate – the infamous Jack Sparrow no less. It gave him an odd sort of twisted twinge in his chest.

"Not by your standards, James. But even if I were to compare him to you, he would still be a good man. He is selfish and you are not. But you both do the right thing. You do it without thought or question. Jack avoids it, attempts to sneak around it, but he does the right thing in the end. My father was a pirate, James, and my mother was a governess before she married. She was the sweetest, gentlest woman I ever knew. She could not have married anything less than good man. That is how I know that a pirate can be a good man."

James swallowed, this revelation about her father hanging in the air between them. She was watching him carefully, as though waiting for him to walk away, repulsed to discover that pirate blood ran in her veins. It ought to have bothered him more, but he found that he hardly considered it important. In fact, he found himself, not ignoring it exactly, but not referring to it.

"I am sorry that your… friend will hang, for your sake," he said finally. "Perhaps it would be best if you did not witness it," he added after a taunt silence.

"I couldn't live with such cowardice. Excuse me, James, it is a chilly night. I'll walk no further with you. Good evening."

"Good evening," he replied, though she had already strode away.

He stood for a long time, feeling oddly lopsided without her at his side.