Chapter Seven

Working The Angles

Both Gull Cottage children were seated on the carpet in the living room. They were valiantly trying to blow up as many balloons as possible from the number scattered around them on the floor. Candy had just tied off a large yellow balloon when her brother held out the half-filled green one, he was trying to inflate.

"Here…" he said breathily, waving a hand before his red face. "I'm done… with this one…"

"But this is still too squishy," his sister complained, manipulating his half-deflated offering disgustedly. "You can do a lot better than this!"

"Oh, well, I'm using up all my breath!" Jonathan declared crossly. "I don't have anything left. I might just pass out!"

"Your breath doesn't have enough air in it then," Candy replied logically. "You're not much use if you can't blow up a balloon properly."

"Oh, yeah! Watch this, then!" Her brother snatched the balloon away from her with a disgusted huff.

He inhaled deeply and renewed his inflation attempts. He blew the balloon up to a very respectable size. He was dizzy but happy with his renewed efforts and he managed a wide grin as he puffed one more time and the balloon exploded.

"There!" he announced.

Seated in the alcove, the Captain frowned at the noise the children were making. He was trying to put the finishing touches to a fully rigged sailing ship inside a large glass bottle. He'd just come to the very tricky part of manoeuvring everything together with a pair of long tweezers without ruining his efforts with any sudden or unnecessary moves.

The loud bang of the exploding balloon caused him to flinch unwarily. He muttered an expletive as he frowned in consternation. Now he would have to start again.

"See!" Jonathan continued proudly over Scruffy's joyous barking. "Only eleven puffs!"

"Well, I bet I can do better!" Candy declared.

She grabbed a balloon and blew it up to the point of explosion. The loud bang was too much for their pet who began to bite and bounce on any already inflated balloons within reach, causing many to explode like cannon shots.

"Blast!" the Captain complained, trying to hold his concentration and failing.

He was running out of time to complete the gift. He knew he should retire to the wheelhouse to continue his work. It was safer and quieter there. But he'd found he had been missing the happy sounds of the children playing.

He grimaced. "In my day, children were seen and not often heard. If only they would learn to play with a lot less noise."

Carrying the hammer and some nails she'd fetched from the kitchen drawer, Carolyn walked back into the room to continue what she had been doing. She quickly became tangled in exploding balloons and excited children as they played pop the balloons with their barking dog.

"Come on, Jonathan," she said, as she managed to make her way to the step ladder that had been set up before the alcove end of the fireplace. "Save some for your birthday party, for goodness's sake."

The children didn't pay her any heed as they continued to play among the balloons, popping as many as they could reach. Their mother gave up as she climbed the ladder. She began to hammer a nail into the wall beside the Captain's portrait.

The work gave her something tangible to focus on. She decided she would do her best to ignore the ghost's ongoing contrary moods. She couldn't see that she'd done anything wrong. But then she wasn't a nineteenth-century woman.

She was very pleased with herself and the successful articles she'd written about Madame Tibaldi. They had been readily accepted by Bridget Lacey, the new, female editor of 'Feminine View'. It had been Carolyn's latest editor who'd just telephoned with further requests for more such articles.

Carolyn had spoken at length with her and been pleased with the results. So many things were finally starting to go right in her life. The last two years of struggling to make ends meet had finally been worth it.

She'd used the money from the article to pay off all the outstanding bills and there was enough left over to give her son an excellent birthday party. It had been more than two years since they'd been able to indulge themselves.

Back then, they'd been living with her parents in Philadelphia in an increasingly uneasy relationship. Carolyn's mother had always adored throwing lavish parties which spared no expense. But she'd refused to allow her daughter any meaningful input.

Carolyn was made to understand that her sole purpose in life was to get married again as suitably and quickly as possible. She'd been informed, quite firmly, that she needed a husband, and her children needed a father. Her mother had paraded any number of eminently suitable men through her daughter's life.

But Carolyn had heartily detested all of them. Her ongoing protests had fallen on deaf ears. She'd finally moved to Schooner Bay to be as far away as possible from her mother's desire to control her love life.

"Now, it's finally my turn to start doing things my way…" Carolyn silently blessed the little medium's tangled advent into their lives as she continued hammering in more nails.

In the alcove, the Gull Cottage ghost flinched at the sudden increase in noise. "By all the Gods and the very devil, himself!"

The incessant hammering only added to the sounds of exploding balloons and the dog's raucous barking. All the while, he was trying to work on the intricacies of his ship in a bottle. He'd begun the tricky task after Carolyn had told him she would be using the leftover money from the Tibaldi article for Jonathan's eighth birthday party.

Several large, heavily wrapped parcels had already arrived at the house, all postmarked 'Philadelphia.' Carolyn had quickly hidden them out of sight in the cupboard beneath the stairs and her son was still oblivious to their existence.

The children had been eagerly counting down the days on the kitchen calendar. Martha was making Jonathan's favourite cakes and party favours. Now their excitement had risen to fever pitch as the arrangements got into full swing because the longed-for day had almost arrived.

Oblivious to the ghost's simmering displeasure, Carolyn hummed softly to herself as she hammered in a couple of nails. She then stopped to look down at the children still playing on the floor. "Hey, kids. I left the crepe paper out in the car."

"We'll get it!" Candy jumped to her feet.

"Yeah, we'll get it," Jonathan added, as he followed his sister along with an excited Scruffy.

They raced from the room, nearly colliding with Martha as she entered with her broom, sweeping the floor. "We really need a traffic light at this door," she remarked wryly, as she entered the room and began to sweep up the debris.

"Great idea." Carolyn smiled as she continued to hammer industriously.

Beside her, the Captain appeared with a thunderous expression on his face. But before he could comment or command the noise to cease, Martha flicked across his face with her duster as she flicked it up and over his portrait. Reflexively, the Captain sneezed, putting a hand up to his itching nose.

"Gesundheit!" Carolyn said instinctively.

"How come?" Martha regarded her in puzzlement. "I didn't sneeze."

"Oh…" Carolyn stopped her hammering to look down at the housekeeper and then around to the Captain who was looking utterly disgruntled.

"Sorry…" Carolyn turned back to Martha. "Well, gesundheit in case you ever do."

"Oh, well, thanks in advance." Martha shrugged as she walked toward the door. "I'll go check on the cakes and make a list of what else we may need." She surveyed the room. "Like a lot more balloons." She left, shaking her head.

"Females…" The Captain looked after her, still rubbing at his nose. He frowned as Carolyn went back to her hammering.

"I didn't know a ghost could catch a cold," she remarked, keeping her attention on her work.

She wouldn't say how happy she was to see him. No doubt, he'd only appeared to voice some new complaints about the noise and chaos.

"Well, she twitched her feathers right under my nose," the Captain complained, unable to admit the true reason. For a moment, he was sure he felt the duster touch his face and tickle his nose. "Purely a reflex action from when I was still alive. I've always disliked feathers in any form."

He scowled as he shook his head in disgust. "Madam, could I prevail on you to cease that confounded racket? It's getting so I can't concentrate on my work around here!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Captain." Carolyn stopped hammering. "If you can just wait until I'm finished this…" She got down from her ladder. "Then you may have your precious peace and quiet back. For now." She smiled.

"It's getting so a man can't find a quiet berth in his own home," the Captain complained, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Yesterday, that fanatical housekeeper of yours chased me from room to room with a roaring vacuum cleaner!" He waved a frustrated finger in the direction of the kitchen.

Carolyn picked up several balloons that had been tied together in a bunch. She climbed the ladder again. "Captain, you can hardly expect us to clean all your rugs with a bucket and swab," she pointed out reasonably. "We have to make some noise, sometimes."

The Captain scowled at her. "That is the precise issue around here, Madam. It's noise. Noise, I tell you! It's getting so a man cannot even think straight!"

"Ohhh…" Carolyn stared at him. "I hadn't noticed. And you don't have to shout."

Of course, she had noticed. But she wasn't about to admit it. She was just happy to see him. No matter how cross and out of sorts he looked.

The Captain folded his arms across his chest. "Now am I, or am I not, entitled to a little peace and privacy in my own home? Or is that too much to ask?"

"You certainly are," Carolyn concurred quickly. "When the children are at school or when we're all asleep in bed." A faint flush warmed her cheeks. "You told me once, how much you loved the night."

"Yes, well, that's as maybe…" the Captain appeared only slightly mollified. "Then from now on may I assume we will have calm seas? The children sounded like a whole tribe of Vandals setting out to sack Rome."

"Well, there might be one tiny, little storm before the calm," Carolyn confessed, trying to look unconcerned. "It's not much."

She was so happy with her latest news. That one telephone call from Bridget Lacey had changed everything. She wasn't about to allow the Captain's bad mood to spoil her morning.

"Oh?" The Captain's brows rose suspiciously. "And what little storm might that be, pray?"

Carolyn raised her brows at him. "Um, Jonathan's birthday party. We decided since we're flush with cash, we would go extra big this year. He deserves it. Then it'll be Candy's turn."

"Ah," the Captain pounced on her confession with narrowed eyes. "Define, big…"

"Oh, maybe a hundred kids or so," Carolyn added, feeling suddenly reckless and giddy with happiness.

"A hundred…" The Captain looked stunned. "How much did they pay you for those articles on that blasted medium?"

"Not that much." Carolyn smiled at his thunderous expression. "Sorry, I'm only teasing. But you deserved it. You can be such a killjoy sometimes. You need to lighten up."

"Oh, I'm very glad to be teased," he complained, shaking his head at her attempt at humour. "And I am not a killjoy. And I am enlightened," he concluded huffily, completely misunderstanding her meaning.

"Well, just so you know and won't get upset, it's only ninety-nine kids," she replied sweetly. "I'm feeling very generous this year."

"Madam…" The Captain drew himself up to his full height and glared at her, at a total loss for words. He swiped his hands in front of himself and vanished in a huff.

"Oh, dear…" Carolyn bit her inner lip as she stared after him, knowing that teasing such an irascible ghost was unwise.

But she was feeling deliriously happy and buoyed by her new editor's enthusiasm for her work and their excellent working relationship. It was such a relief to be finally free of the truly awful Ellsworth Gordon, the magazine's previous editor who had been far too free with his attentions when he'd arrived at the house to see her about 'Maiden Voyage.'

She hadn't found the right way to tell the Captain her wonderful news. And how much it was going to affect him and their freshly strained relationship. She would need a good deal of his assistance and time. She wasn't sure how he would take it.

On the telephone, Miss Lacey had told her she'd recently read the dreadful 'Maiden Voyage' article and had been very taken with its flavour and content. Much to Carolyn's shocked surprise, her editor had asked for the original manuscript and wanted to consult with her author about making some changes and extending it with an urgent view to publishing the work as a full-length novel.

"Do you really think so?" Carolyn's breath had left her in an astonished rush. "I mean… well, it was very racy." She'd clutched the telephone receiver tighter in her worried confusion. "It certainly caused quite a stir in town and brought me some very dubious and unwanted attention."

She vividly remembered the Captain being forced to defend her honour with cutlass and belaying pin against Ellsworth Gordon's unwanted advances. In the aftermath, she'd saucily offered to remove the Captain's boots as the maiden in the story had done for her rescuer.

It had quite deflated the situation, but it still brought warmth to Carolyn's cheeks whenever she remembered that incredible day. No one had ever defended her honour before, and she'd found it quite intoxicating and more than a little disconcerting. It seemed a little nineteenth-century gallantry went a long way.

"Oh, I think your work has such wonderful potential," her editor had replied briskly. "I have never read anything quite like it. It's so imaginative and authentic. It's almost as if you'd lived back in those times. Which we both know is quite impossible."

Miss Lacey laughed quickly at the idea. "You'll need to change everything into the third person, of course. It seems this new audience we're going after prefers it that way." She then went on to explain her radical new ideas which made a suddenly breathless Carolyn sink into the chair at the telephone table.

It seemed that such historical novels as 'Maiden Voyage' had suddenly become all the rage among a whole new group of avid female readers and Bridget Lacey was determined to get out in front of the craze. She wanted to be on the very crest of the new wave. She felt they couldn't possibly fail with such a lively maiden and a gorgeous mouthwatering captain.

"Of course," she continued. "We'll have to lose the heroine's betrothed and focus on her romance with Captain Webster. That's why we need to discuss it. How that is all going to work out for the best. I have so many ideas I can't wait to share with you."

"If you think it will sell, then I'll be happy to do everything I can." Carolyn was determined she was going to help her do just that and make some good money in the bargain. She would never have to worry about how she was going to pay the monthly bills ever again.

Carolyn got down to pick up another bunch of balloons and climbed up her ladder again. "I'm still not sure what I am going to tell the Captain…" Warmth heated her cheeks anew.

But Bridget had assured her that novels which contained such disturbing words as 'ravish' were now becoming very desirable and sought after. A torn bodice or two was also acceptable. Where, only a year ago, many people had been quite shocked by that risqué article the Captain had penned, including Carolyn's own mother.

"Wonders will never cease…" She shook her head in bemusement as she went back to her hammering and tying up the bunches of unexploded balloons.

※※※※※

Two days later, the living room was completely decorated with balloons and streamers for Jonathan's eighth birthday. There were gifts and cake and a dozen, noisy, happy children dancing around the room to the tune Carolyn was playing on the record player. An over-excited Scruffy was racing around trying to pop as many balloons as he could reach amid the chaos.

Driven from the alcove by the din, the Captain had retreated to the main bedroom, seeking some much-needed peace and quiet. But the chaos and happy shouting of children and an excited dog had followed him. He was seated at Carolyn's desk, still trying to complete his work on the ship-in-a-bottle project.

"By all the powers…" He looked up, scowling toward the open doorway.

With a rough sigh, he waved one hand and the door slammed shut, lessening some of the noise. But the sound still penetrated through the open windows behind him. Swinging around, he gestured toward them, slamming them shut as well.

Slightly mollified, he went back to his work of completing the ship in a bottle. But the racket from downstairs continued along with the thumping of the music.

"This is becoming intolerable!" he shouted over the noise. "It's worse than being trapped amid a fully engaged battle at sea! And I would much prefer that to what is happening right now!"

Downstairs, Carolyn caught the faint echo of his shouted outrage. She quickly shut off the music and proposed a game of hide and seek to the group of overactive children. They complied willingly enough and she breathed a cautious sigh of relief when they all seemed to vanish like magic into the house and a welcome, short-lived peace descended.

Martha entered the living room, shaking her head. "That was only the end of round one. I don't know if we can last much longer." She laid out plates of fresh treats on the food table. "If we're to survive, round two will need a whole lot more fuel."

"We can do this," Carolyn replied, trying to tidy up some of the mess. "Jonathan is having such fun. He's opened every one of his presents."

"As long as we all make it out of here in one piece," the housekeeper replied. "That's all me and my sore feet are hoping for."

"Oh, Martha…" Carolyn laughed ruefully. "Me, too."

Upstairs, in the bedroom, the Captain was finally satisfied with his delicate project. He gave a sigh of relief. He had just stood up with the bottle ship in his hands when the door burst open again and two excited children ran in, seemingly looking for a place to hide.

Of course, they didn't see the Captain standing beside the desk and soon decided that the wardrobe was the best place to disappear. They ran inside and closed the door behind them.

"I'm so very glad I had the good sense to remain single," the Captain grumbled as he frowned at the wardrobe.

But then a baby toddled in through the open door, wearing only a diaper, socks and shoes. Now thoroughly irritated by all the interruptions, the Captain approached the child who was standing in the doorway, holding a large bunch of plastic keys.

Wondering where the infant had come from and who'd been careless enough to abandon him at a children's party, the Captain made himself visible to the child as he sank into a crouch beside him. "Hello, mate. Are you lost?"

The confused baby stared at him hard and then handed over the keys. He sighed and appeared to be waiting for something to happen.

"Thank you," the Captain acknowledged the gift.

At a loss of what else to do with his unexpected visitor, he indicated the wardrobe. "They went that way."

He stood up again to consider his options. Mrs Muir had been right; he did cherish the night when they were all asleep in their beds and he had the house to himself. He'd spent many months up in the wheelhouse practising the skills he was still trying to hone to an even higher degree.

He was well-used to manipulating inanimate objects and moving them around at will. Without thinking, he had tended to the wounded seal the children had brought into the house from the beach. Candy, Jonathan and their mother had witnessed the interaction, but no one had asked questions about his sudden ability to touch a living being.

Then the unexpected and miraculous day had arrived that Carolyn had recently remembered. He'd been trying to read his newly composed poem to her while she was seated on the front steps of the house, potting some flowering plants. Scruffy had run up and began to worry at him, barking and making a din.

When nothing seemed to placate the animal, the Captain became deeply enraged. Without thinking, he'd dematerialised and picked the dog up to carry the annoyance to the house where he'd put him inside the front door and closed it on the bothersome canine.

As soon as he'd turned and saw Carolyn watching his unconscious actions in wordless wonder, he realised what he had just done. "Madam…" He'd shaken his head as he waited for her to say something. He wondered how he was going to explain.

But Martha's unexpected arrival had interrupted them then, for which the Captain had been deeply grateful. Despite her long looks and puzzled frown, Carolyn had made no further comment about his unconscious action on that day.

But now, she had remembered, and he was at a loss to explain how he'd been able to touch a living creature. Something he'd been trying to perfect for a very long time. Over two years, in fact.

Then had come that unforgettable night when he had materialised in the bedroom. He'd given in to the burning impulse and bent down to kiss Carolyn's cheek while she slept.

And then he'd kissed her cheek when she'd asked him to, setting off a whole new skein of tangled emotions. He would have been better keeping his distance.

The implications of his impulsive action by carrying Scruffy had raised even more questions than he had answers. His tentative steps forward would often be as uncertain as the child standing beside him.

The idea of becoming corporeal before Carolyn in daylight, when she was awake and aware, still made him pause. Could he meet the expectations such an unforeseen event would arouse? It would take every resource he could call upon to maintain himself in any physical form for even a short period of time.

"I guess it's beyond time I tested a conscious human reaction," he muttered as he bent down to offer one tentative finger for the hesitant baby to take. "Come on, little shipmate. We can show each other the way forward…"

He held his breath and tried to appear calm. After a moment of puzzled thought, the little one decided to take his finger in a softly trusting grip.

"Well, it seems to work well enough with dogs and babies…" the Captain puzzled. "The ones who cannot tell any tales…"

They stayed tentatively connected and began to walk toward the wardrobe. He removed his finger from the tiny grasp as he crouched down before the door, reaching up to open it.

The baby looked confused again, staring back at his unwilling companion. "In there…" The Captain indicated the inner space.

The baby obliged by waddling into the space beyond and the Captain shut the door behind him with a shake of his head. "Now what?" he wondered softly. "And I fear that Seagirt rascal is still in possession of my poem. I wonder where he is now. I'll be wanting that piece of doggerel back."

He shook his head in consternation as he vanished, retiring to the dubious comfort of his wheelhouse. He would hide his gift there until it was the right time came to give it to its young recipient. He would wait for the chaos downstairs to finally dissipate.

※※※※※

Walking back into the living room, after calling the children to reassemble for ice cream, Carolyn frowned at the blond toddler who'd mysteriously appeared among the young party guests. His two older siblings immediately came forward when she raised a query about how the baby had come to be among them.

The pair said their brother, Jack had followed them from their mother's car, without her noticing, and she'd driven off unawares. They offered up the telephone number for their home, but when Carolyn dialled it there was no answer.

She discussed the situation with Martha, and they decided all they could do was telephone the local constable and then wait for the mother to return to claim her baby. He was safe until that happened.

"He seems content. But I'll go into the linen closet and find one of Jonathan's old baby tops for the poor wee mite," the housekeeper said. "That diaper won't keep him warm enough. Then I'll tackle the ice cream. They're all starting to look hungry again and that's a bad sign." She shook her head as she bustled away on her mission.

"Thanks, Martha," Carolyn called after her as she prepared for round two of the party. "I'll go and see to the cake."

She could privately admit she was glad the party was almost over. Her feet were sore and her back ached. She walked into the kitchen where the newly decorated cake had been placed on the table. She took her time adding eight candles. Then she picked up a box of matches and began to light each one.

She looked up in time to see Martha lifting an enormous tray of ice cream treats. "Oh, Martha. Why don't you take a few at a time? That's too heavy."

"I can't risk it," the housekeeper replied acerbically. "If I don't take in enough ice cream for everybody, I'll never make it out alive!" The two women shared a companionable laugh before she left the room with the tray and Carolyn went back to lighting the last of the candles.

She picked up the cake and the candles immediately blew out. She stared at them in consternation before raising her eyes to the ceiling. "Well, I hope you made a wish before you did that." She put the cake down on the table and began to light the candles again.

A disgruntled ghost appeared in the chair next to her. "I did, Madam. I wished for a little quiet around here. Sailors on shore leave make less noise than this household. And there have been children running everywhere, including a baby who appeared to be entirely unaccompanied."

"Ah, yes, that's young Jack. He was an inadvertent addition to the guest list. His brother and sister are looking after him until their mother returns for them." Carolyn nodded and smiled. "Children are funny about birthday parties. They like to enjoy themselves and babies are no exception. However, I do think Jack has eaten far too many sweets and party treats. His mother might not be best pleased with us when she returns to claim him."

"Oh, I don't object to the children enjoying themselves. I don't object to parties, Madam. A birthday comes but once a year. It would be unreasonable to object." He slammed the flat of his hand on the table as he rose to his feet. "And I'm never unreasonable."

"Right," Carolyn agreed wryly trying not to smile.

She was in too good a mood to care about his sour one. She would not allow him to spoil the day with more complaints about her shortcomings as a party host and parent.

The Captain began to pace. "What I do object to is the constant, day-to-day, upheaval around this household." He thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "When I was alone here, my life was never cluttered and noisy. It was perfectly peaceful and serene. I could read or play chess. I could hear myself think. My sea charts went undamaged."

He pulled one hand free to wave an admonishing finger. "You are totally lacking in organisation, Madam. Where I am a master of such necessary skills."

"I'm also totally lacking in the candles if these burn out," Carolyn replied hastily.

The Captain frowned at her. "I can plainly see I shall have to set a firm course for you and the crew to follow. If we are to continue to live in peace within the confines of these walls."

"Oh, are we back to that old chestnut?" Carolyn stared at him. "Captain, I am not a part of your crew and I cannot be regimented in my own home. Now if you don't mind…"

He ignored her censure and pointed an accusing finger. "If you don't take that cake in, you'll have no candles left."

Carolyn grimaced at him. "Now why didn't I think of that?"

※※※※※