Chapter Twenty

Telling The Truth

The next morning, Candy sat alone on the school bench, looking forlorn. She was dressed in a delicate blue and white dress with frills. Her hair had been caught up on the top of her head in a curl cluster adorned with white ribbons. Pretty, feminine sunglasses hid her shiner. She kicked her white shoes back and forth, looking as if she wished she was anywhere but right there.

The bell had already rung and the playground was deserted. Candy made no move to pick up her books and lunchbox from the seat beside her.

The Captain materialised behind her. He watched her with sympathy for a long moment. "You know, Candy," he said softly. "They've already rung the school bell. You cannot tarry here."

Candy sighed gustily. "Captain. I can't go in there. I look like a creep. Even my own gang didn't even recognise me just now. And then, when they did, they didn't know what to make of me or say. It was so embarrassing!"

Her ghostly companion shook his head. "My dear. If you don't look at a boy, he'll never notice how pretty you are."

"But, I can't look at him," Candy asserted.

"Why not? He's not bad to look at."

"He's adorable…" Candy smiled forlornly.

"Since you feel like that, why not tell him so?"

"If I do that, then he'll think I like him!" Candy replied with purely feminine logic.

The Captain looked lost. "Well, don't you?"

"Of course! That's why I don't want him to think it!"

"One thing I'll say for women…" The Captain sighed. "They don't grow any less bewildering as they grow up! A man has no hope of ever understanding the feminine mind."

He frowned after Candy as the girl got up and walked away, with her head down. "Why can't you just tell him the truth?"

※※※※※

The Captain stood in the window embrace of Carolyn's bedroom that afternoon. They had been finalising the manuscript, but the same thorny question rose again in his mind.

"Why can't you just tell the truth?" he demanded to know as he leaned on his telescope.

Carolyn was seated behind her typewriter, working on the final pages of their novel. "We can't tell you the truth. It's impossible."

"Why, why, why?" the Captain replied in irritation. "A man's brain is perfectly logical and open to change and all manner of new suggestions and ideas."

Carolyn shrugged. "You wouldn't be interested in us if we did. It would take away the magic."

"Balderdash!" the Captain replied, moving to look through his telescope.

Carolyn shrugged. "The fun of the chase would be gone. That frisson of knowing or not knowing. Will she, or won't she…"

"Rot!" the Captain declared. "Poppycock!"

"Captain, you've forgotten," Carolyn told him patiently. "You've been alone in this house for too many years."

He turned back to her. "No, I have not forgotten." He stepped down into the room again and began to pace. "What is wrong with your entire sex is that you are not open, honest and simple like a man. You hide your true feelings behind pretty smiles and fluttering eyelashes."

He turned to her and waved a sternly admonishing finger. "You play games and you're devious!"

Carolyn shook her head. "We know it's the only way for us to get you."

The Captain huffed. "You're not supposed to get us. We're supposed to get you! I may be over one hundred years old but I still remember how that particular game was played."

"Exactly. And if you do remember, then you know you force us to be devious," Carolyn replied. "A woman just can't walk up to a man and say 'I love you, will you marry me?'"

"I don't see why she can't," the Captain replied as he walked away toward the fireplace. "I'd be honoured to hear you say it."

"Oh, ho," Carolyn murmured, trying not to be distracted by the very personal turn of their conversation. "You speak from a very safe position."

The Captain turned before the fireplace, resting his arm in the mantle. "I would say the very same thing if I were alive."

"Really?" Carolyn raised her brows. "Would you?"

The Captain frowned at her. "Yes, of course. Well, theoretically speaking."

"Of course." Carolyn smiled wistfully at him.

She wanted to be honest right then. She'd not forgotten her secret request. The promise Daniel had made to her that he would do anything within his powers to accede to her desire. She had saved it up and savoured it. The right time to tell him would present itself. She was sure of that.

But now was not right. They had so much still to get completed and she needed his whole attention when she did ask him for what she wanted from him.

She glanced down the bottom drawer of the desk. Tim Seagirt's letter was still hidden there. It badly needed to be brought out into the open and discussed. She burned to know the name of the woman Daniel had written the poem for.

She quickly returned her attention to the work at hand. "But, right now, Captain—"

"Ma-rk… Candy loves Ma-rk…" Jonathan sang from the hallway outside.

"Oh, here we go again," Carolyn muttered as she got to her feet and left the room.

"Jonathan Muir!" Candy reprimanded her son. "You stop that!"

Jonathan increased his volume. "Candy loves Ma-rk!"

Carolyn hurried into the hall. "Jonathan, you stop that right now!"

"She won't play!" Jonathan complained. "She won't do anything! All because of that stupid old Mark Helmore!"

"I hate him and I hate you!" Candy told him. She was dressed as herself again in jeans and sweatshirt. No more filly dresses and hair pieces for her.

"All right, Candy. Now, that's enough for you as well," Carolyn told her.

Candy looked up at her. "The more I grow up, the more terrible things are. Why did everything have to change? I hate growing up!"

Carolyn put her arm around the girl's shoulder. "Well, maybe I can help you with that."

"You tried to help and now everyone's laughing at me," Candy complained.

Carolyn frowned at her. "Just because you wore a dress?"

"Yeah! I hate the whole school!" Candy turned and ran away down the hall.

Jonathan turned and followed her. "You sure looked dumb!"

Carolyn stared after them in frustration. She turned to find the Captain standing in the open doorway watching her with deep sympathy.

"Perhaps I can do something about this situation, Madam," he offered. "It needs a more subtle touch."

His knowing smile widened. "It needs someone who is an expert at spinning dreams and creating alternate realities."

"But this is real life." Carolyn shrugged. "You can't force children to like each other. Candy and Mark will just have to learn how to get along."

"We'll see…" the Captain replied softly. "Leave it to me and we shall see…" He faded out.

Carolyn stared after him. "I wish I were the one who was dreaming now…" she said wistfully. "And I already know what my dream would be about."

Her shoulders dropped as she walked back into the bedroom. All she could do was carry on with completing the manuscript and hope there would be more time for the two of them to be alone, together…

※※※※※

Two days later, Candy's gang of three walked down the road toward the house. They all looked downcast and sheepish. They stopped and shuffled their feet when they saw Carolyn picking up the daily newspaper from behind the gate.

"Good morning, Mrs Muir," the biggest kid said. "I guess Candy isn't coming with us to school again today. We already said how sorry we were for not seeing it was her the other day in the playground."

Carolyn shook her head. "Oh, I guess not. She was very upset with you guys for making fun of her at school that day. I don't know if she's forgiven you yet."

"Yeah…" The smallest kid shuffled his feet. "Sorry about that. We just never seen her dressed up like that. Like… like she was one of our big sisters."

"Yeah, like one of our sisters…" The third boy nodded quickly. "We almost didn't recognise her. Then she got mad at us and told us all to go away."

"Well… tell her hello from us, and we're really sorry about it all," the biggest boy added. "We didn't mean nothing by it. We just didn't know what to say or where to look."

All three sighed heavily and turned away. They began to walk on up the road.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Candy called from inside the house.

She came running out swinging her books by their leather strap, with her lunchbox on her other hand. She was dressed again in her usual boyish clothes of sweatshirt and jeans.

An unhappy looking Jonathan trailed behind her carrying his books and box. He stopped on the front porch and watched his sister run down to the gate.

"Hey!" one of her gang shouted happily.

Candy skidded to a halt next to her mother. "Is it all right if I don't come straight home from school, Mum? I thought we'd all go and play volleyball. And then we gotta sort out what we're gonna be doing this weekend. It's Saturday tomorrow."

She was wearing a black eye patch over her bruised eye. It made her look like a pirate.

"I guess so," Carolyn replied with a smile. "It seems to be a very popular decision." She glanced at the three boys who were all smiling. "But tell me, why the eye patch?"

"For my black eye," Candy replied proudly. "It's a status symbol. Everyone thinks it looks groovy."

"Ah…" Carolyn tried not to smile. "Do you think… Mark will like it?"

"Who cares? He went all silly and moony over me. Kept following me around like a lost puppy. It was icky. He's such a creep," Candy replied before she turned back to the house. "Come on, Jonathan. You can come too. But get a move on or we'll be late."

"Yay! Thanks!" Her brother grinned as he flew off the porch and followed Candy through the open gate his mother was holding for them. All five kids ran off down the road, chatting to each other happily.

Carolyn looked after them as she closed the gate. The Captain materialised beside her. He too stared after the children. "What does she mean, it was icky and he's a creep? She was madly in love with him for a whole week. I moved heaven and earth for that child."

Carolyn smiled up at him knowingly. "Oh, that was yesterday." She began to walk back toward the house. "Things change."

"But I spent half the night brainwashing that boy in his dream! I made him fall in love with Candy, so he would moon around her as she's been doing around him. She can't do that to him! She can't do that to me!"

"Well, I wouldn't take it too seriously," Carolyn soothed. "You'll both recover."

The Captain scowled at her as they walked up the path. "What a totally callous, unscrupulous, typically female attitude!"

"But, Captain…" Carolyn complained, turning to look at him sweetly. "We have to have some protection against heartbreakers like you…" She smiled teasingly. She turned and walked into the house, leaving him standing there, looking pensive.

After a moment, he turned and folded his arms across his chest. He shook his head as he looked up to the sky. "I'll never understand them. Never!"

※※※※※

Later that evening, Carolyn pulled the final page from the carriage of her typewriter with a regretful sigh. "That's it… We've finally found THE END." Her smile was edged with sadness as she placed the sheet of paper carefully on top of all the rest.

"We have, indeed," the Captain agreed. He didn't look very pleased as he sat next to her. "I trust Miss Lacey will be satisfied with our best efforts to bring the tale of the Mary Anne to life."

"Oh, I think she will be," Carolyn agreed as she tidied all the pages together before pushing them into a large brown envelope. "I'll drive into town and mail it away to her in Boston in the morning."

"Then we will sit and await her reply," Daniel said somewhat absently.

His gaze was still on the envelope and the story it contained. The need for them to dream together was over and he had no true idea what would happen next.

Carolyn had said she'd enjoyed the dreams for the sake of research. It had certainly been a novel way for them to be together in that world where anything could be possible. He stroked his hand over his bearded chin as he watched her add both a stamp and then the mailing address to the front of the envelope.

"That's it, then…" Carolyn looked up at him, and her pensive expression queried what he was thinking about. "I know I'm going to miss writing about our Captain Webster."

"He was simply a means to an end." Daniel shook his head.

He stood up. "Now that our task is done, I'll go and check in on Jonathan. I'll see if he wants a bedtime story or would rather work on our latest ship project. Good night, Madam." He bowed his head.

"Good night, Captain," Carolyn replied as she watched him disappear. "And thank you…"

She wanted to tell she would miss their shared dreams. But he appeared to be in no mood to listen. It was almost as if, with the completion of the novel, that tenuous bridge to another world had been closed for good. She hoped it wasn't so because she still had her request to make.

※※※※※

"Well…" Martha said the following evening as she put aside the last page of her copy of the manuscript with a long and satisfied sigh. "It's been a long time coming, and I know we've all had our ups and downs along the way, but that was well worth waiting for. Such a romantic ending…"

She shook her head. "That Captain Webster was quite a man and then some…"

It was late and the three Gull Cottage adults were seated around the kitchen table. The Captain had brought down his decanter of Madeira and three glasses to help them celebrate.

"You're welcome…" Carolyn nodded. "I thought you deserved to have your very own copy. I mailed the final one away to Bridget this morning. Now we wait for her answer."

"I did wonder if it was better to deliver it in person to speed up the whole process," the Captain observed drily as he poured them all another glass of Maderia. "Waiting on someone's pleasure is not going to be easy. I am willing to scare her into submission."

"I don't think you'll have to wait too long," Martha observed as she thanked him for the wine with a nod. "I think Miss Lacey will be champing at the bit to get her hands on it so she can publish the book and make us all rich."

"From your lips…" Carolyn raised her glass.

Suddenly, there was a clanking sound from the sink and the lights flickered. Martha shook her head. "You know, when you built this place, Captain, I know you intended it all to last. But…"

"Mine was the finest plumbing money could buy," the ghost defended himself brusquely. "I was the first in the county to bring everything indoors. The bathroom suites came all the way from New York. It was Claymore's father who ruined all my plumbing by installing new china fixtures that have not stand the test of time."

"Yes, well…" Martha shrugged as the thumping subsided and the lights came back on again. "That's as may be. But the plumbing was installed over a hundred years ago. Unless you've got some ghostly company in those pipes, I think we're going to have them all seen to before too much longer."

"If that's so, then there goes any money I might make from Captain Webster's story," Carolyn observed gloomily. "I doubt Claymore would be willing to pay for any repairs that may be needed. He hates to do anything I ask of him. I've telephoned him and written letters he never answers."

"That quivering bowl of blancmange would renege on paying for his own mother's funeral," the Captain observed acerbically. "In fact, he tried to do just that at the time. You may as well whistle Dixie, my dear, as ask him to pay for anything. I have seen giant clams that were easier to force open."

"Then let's hope it doesn't come to that," Carolyn replied. "We'll just have to try and make do for now and work with the kitchen as it is. We can get used to a few quirks. I have plans for my Captain Webster money that do not include household renovations."

"Well, all I can say is good luck with that," Martha observed. "But from the way the kitchen's been acting lately, the gremlins in the pipes have started moving out into fresh pastures. Soon the whole house may be in revolt and rattling and clanking everywhere. Not just when the sou-wester blows."

"Just like it's haunted?" Carolyn couldn't resist the small jib even as her heart sank.

"Have a care, Madam…" the Captain warned her. "My house has stood for all these years. In spite of Claymore, it will stand for a goodly few more."

"I hope you're right…" Carolyn sighed. "I really do. If it's as bad as you say, Martha, I'd better get out ahead of it by going into town in the morning and confronting Claymore. He's harder to shift than a mountain."

"If you wish me to frighten that miserable barnacle into submission, you only have to say the word, my dear."

"Thank you, Captain. But this is my battle to fight. I must be allowed to do so. I'll make a list of what things that need to be fixed and he will fix them."

"Fair enough…" he replied, looking dissatisfied with her decision as he sat back in his chair. "But my offer stands."

※※※※※

Carolyn yawned as she entered her bedroom. Her face and body were freshly scrubbed from her long, hot bath and she felt tired enough to go straight to sleep. She'd partaken of more of the Captain's Madeira than usual and she felt a little light-headed.

"Dutch courage…" She had one final task that needed to be completed this evening. It had waited long enough and she needed to put it behind her once and for all.

"You can do this…" She squared her shoulders resolutely as she crossed to her desk and pulled the bottom drawer of the desk open.

"Madam…" the Captain enquired as he materialised behind her. "I detected a certain level of nervousness in you just now. As if you are about to perform an unpleasant task."

His brow creased. "Is there anything I may assist you with, my dear?"

"Yes, there is…" Carolyn reached beneath the stack of blank pages and withdrew Tim Seagirt's letter.

It seemed to burn against her fingers. She turned and held it out before she lost her nerve again. "I think this rightly belongs to you…"

"You do?" The Captain accepted the white envelope. He turned it over in his hands and studied the address and the return for a hotel in Los Angeles. "There is no name for the sender," he said then. "And it is addressed to you."

He tried to return it to her but Carolyn evaded him. "Please, open it and see. Then we will talk."

"Very well…" he replied. "But you are being very mysterious."

"Not as mysterious as the contents of that letter," Carolyn replied as she walked to sit on the side of the bed. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.

There was silence as her love opened the letter and availed himself of the contents. It seemed like an age as he read it again before he looked up and stared at her. Then he began to quote the poem softly, without any reference to the written page.

'If only I could touch your hand.

The shorebird's call.

The sea breeze smell.

A spruce-wood mast that rises tall.

I'd happily forget them all.

If only I could touch your hand.

If I could link your arm in mine.

The tropic sun, the emerald surf,

the fleecy clouds like sugar spun,

I'd happily forget each one,

if I could link your arm in mine.

Of all the things that cannot be.

One alone means most to me.

It's not the lure of distant shores.

It's that my lips cannot touch yours.

My lips cannot touch yours…'

He stopped talking and the strained silence between them grew. He took a step closer and looked down at her. "It was written in a time of great need and secret longing."

"Who was she?" Carolyn asked. "The woman you wrote those words for."

"She was a dream…" the Captain replied softly, as he put the letter aside on the desk. "A torment and an impossibility. I lost myself the very day I first set eyes on her. I knew then, as I know now, there could never be another woman for me…"

"I see…" Carolyn nodded jerkily. "She must have been very beautiful…"

"She was then and she is now…" her love replied softly as he sat on the bed next to her. Close enough to touch and be touched. "And she will ever be…"

His lips curved with a measure of regret. "If only she had been born in my time or I in hers. Then I would have all I could ever desire…"

He took her hand between his and held it. "I wrote that poem for you and only you. It expresses my endless yearning for greater closeness to my beloved. I tried time and again to read it to you. And then that blasted Seagirt washed up on our doorstep and I saw an opportunity to have it sung to you instead."

Carolyn drew a ragged breath and released it in a rush. "Yes, I can see that now. That was the day you picked Scruffy up and carried him inside. I couldn't believe what I was seeing."

She looked up. "I was so sure you'd written your poem for another woman. I was afraid to ask you for the truth."

She lifted her shoulders. "When Tim mailed it back to me I still couldn't bring myself to ask you about it. Or her. I buried it and tried to forget."

"Foolish…" The Captain shook his head. "Adorably, wonderfully and incredibly foolish. There is no one else but you…"

"Do you forgive me?" Carolyn asked softly. "I'm so sorry I'm such a trial to you."

"Always…" her love replied as he lifted her chin on the backs of his fingers. "I would not have you any other way but like this..." He kissed her gently and slowly.

Carolyn revelled in the intimate contact even as tears burned the backs of her eyes. She was aware of how foolish she'd been over the poem. But everything that was now happening between them was all still so new to her and so intangible. She feared if she asked for too much it would all evaporate.

Daniel drew back at last and rested his forehead against hers. "You're tired. You need to sleep. Tomorrow, and Claymore, will come soon enough."

"Perchance to dream tonight…" Carolyn whispered her desire even as she tried to suppress a yawn.

"As much as it pains me to say it, I fear you need sleep more than a dream, my love…" The Captain shook his head as he picked up the poem and envelope.

"Good night, my dear." He slowly dematerialised with a deeply regretful look in his eyes.

"Good night, Captain…" Carolyn replied, knowing he was right and she could ask for no more tonight even though she desired it more than anything.

※※※※※

The next morning, Claymore replaced the telephone receiver into its cradle with great care and a deeply contented sigh. He'd just answered the call of his dreams and he couldn't help smiling. Things were certainly looking up in his world.

"Who needs that blasted Marcus Cornell," he muttered as he stood up and walked over to preen in the mirror of the coat stand beside the door to his office. "Soon, I'm going to have a much bigger fish to fry. If I play my cards just right."

The door opened beside him and Carolyn walked in. "Good morning, Claymore."

"Good morning," he replied warily. "Ah, what may I do for you on this fine fall morning? I must tell you, I'm about to become very busy."

"You could start by answering my letters and telephone calls," Carolyn told him. "I've called you numerous times."

"Far too busy, Mrs Muir…" Claymore waved a dismissive hand. "I have far more important clients I must attend to."

"But it's been weeks since you've fixed so much as a light bulb out at the house," Carolyn complained. "And winter is coming. It really is too bad of you to ignore me. We did invite you to Jonathan's birthday party."

"I do not ignore you," Claymore claimed as he returned to his desk and pulled his green eyeshade down over his eyes. "I simply know when to prioritise. My time is very valuable, Mrs Muir. You must pay for whatever portion of it you intend to use."

"But you don't allow me to use any portion of it," Carolyn countered reasonably as she crossed the office to sit in the chair before the desk. "Would you rather I sent for some reinforcements?"

"Always with the threats of physical violence," Claymore complained. "I allowed you to have a sound roof over your heads and this is how you repay me?"

"That same roof leaked until you were forced to fix it," Carolyn countered as she drew a folded piece of paper from her handbag. "Here is my list of necessary repairs. I have itemised them in order of priority. The kitchen is the worst. The plumbing is becoming an issue."

"How very thorough of you," Claymore sneered as he took the list and put it aside. "When my new client has advised me of all her plans and requirements, then I may get around to this."

He held up one hand, palm outermost. "But I can make no promises about this side of Christmas. Time is money, Mrs Muir. Time is money…"

"Yes…" Carolyn stood up. "My time and my money. I will expect an answer, Claymore, or you might find you're on the wrong end of the Captain's temper."

"A mere bagatelle," Claymore declared, snapping his fingers in the air even as his face paled a little. "I have given you my terms. Take them or leave them. I am about to become a very busy man."

"Skinflint…" Carolyn muttered as she turned away and walked to the door. "This isn't over. I expect an answer sooner than Christmas. I think you would be wise not to make me come back here." She left the office and shut the door behind her.

"Bah, humbug…" Claymore muttered, looking furtively around the office for any sign of his nemesis. He breathed a cautious sigh of relief as all remained silent and still.

※※※※※