Ms. De Berry seemed a very fair and able woman, “Ms. De Berry I won’t let it get in the way of my duties” Georgiana said nervously, “and I do thank you for your trust in me”. Jacquotte would be hard to impress, she thought but her intentions of becoming a writer would not get in the way. Georgiana had a lot to learn about the truths in the world if she was ever going to survive it here in Tortuga.

Life itself was not as comely as she had read in her various books over the years and she had expected that. It would be very difficult for her to keep her charade up and to keep herself below the radar of Edmund. For now she was safe but for how long she found herself thinking. She had not been in Spittlefield for very long and she had found a job, something she had never held before but felt that it may be good for her instead of sitting around watching time fly by through a parlor window.

Filling her cup up, she returned to the table and sat down. The meal was modest but she didn’t complain. At the table of Edmund Campbell, he usually preferred a three-course meal and when they had company a five course meal was ordered or just the two of them, the later of which was rare in which case she had taken her meals by herself in one of the parlors in the large manor house.

Georgiana ate some stewed beef, carrots and potatoes and a biscuit with her cup of lemonade. She ate very daintily enjoying the taste of the food in front of her. It was nice to eat with someone who was more at ease to talk with her then what she was used to. Georgiana enjoyed the less formal setting and enjoyed talking to people without fear of being reprimanded like a child when she talked to the wrong person according to Edmund.

Feeling more comfortable with herself and her surroundings she opened up more, "My mother died when I was young and my father died of the drink back in Scotland where I am from. He was the owner of a small shipping company" she said "I was an only child". Finishing her meal she asked Sol curiously “Why not tell me something of yourself?”.

This post has been edited by Georgiana Campbell on Dec 28 2009, 07:49 AM

Jacquotte found an excuse to leave them alone, not before attentioning Georgiana about the necessity to pay attention to the bar work.

"I bid you good night, Sol. There is far too much work to be done. Perhaps another night I shall hear you sing?"

He smiled with gratitude, noticing with how much care she had laid the table, an honour not everybody was granted, and how she even put two candles in front of them.

“Many thanks and good night… for now, Jacquotte! I am sure that later, when we’ll come back and I’ll take my guitar, you’ll be around to hear me! I have for you the Gardenias song, your favourite!” he answered.

He asked Georgiana if she wanted a glass of wine or beer with the meal, but, as she was sticking with the lemonade, he did the same.

"Enjoy dinner!" Jacquotte wished them.

“Thank you very much!” he answered her, then he wished Georgiana “Good appetite!” exactly like when he was still in school.

He had to admit that he had lost some of his good manners since he was a pirate, because some of the others would have laughed at him. Now, he had to remember them again, dining with a nice lady didn’t happen every day and …yes, he wanted to make a good impression. Why exactly? He wasn't sure yet...

He paid more attention to Georgiana than to what he was eating, and when she started talking he could have had stones on his plate and he would have eaten them without blinking.

Her story wasn’t a nice, but rather a sad one.. and whose around him wasn’t?

"My mother died when I was young and my father died of the drink, back in Scotland where I am from. He was the owner of a small shipping company. I was an only child."

He nodded approvingly:

“I knew people who drank their lives out too. Their last days are never a good sight. I am sorry that you had to experience these. No wonder that you wanted to let all the bad things behind and come to sunnier places seeking your fortune! Scotland? This explains your way of speaking… like I hadn’t heard before… but I heard a Scottish girl speaking before… and her accent is different, I hardly understand her!”

Yes, he had heard Elspeth a few times, when he was close to Lyon… and he still wondered how the Frenchman understood her!

When getting up from the table, Georgiana asked him directly:

“Why not tell me something of yourself?”

“I’ll do it on our road to the docks. But what to tell you? I have a twin brother… two younger brothers who are also twins, and a sister between me and my brothers. My parents aren’t alive anymore, but when I left Veracruz they were. What remains to be said? Adventures at sea, storms, capturing other vessels, dealing with the British Navy, damned be their name! Tell me what do you want to hear, and I’ll tell you. If the reason you are asking is to find a subject for your stories, I’ll tell you about my friend Frank…”

The road seemed more crowded than when they had come to the bar.

She was not used to the sights she saw, Georgiana wasn’t used to going out that often. Georgiana felt alone in Tortuga though she was walking alongside Mr. Galvez. She was nervous and trying her best to hide it and she was hardly succeeding.

She walked down the road with Sol towards the docks looking at the faces and sites jumbled around her. Streetwalkers selling there wares, she remembered Edmund once telling her that he would be the last person to touch one of those girls. How he’d be angry if he found where she was employed now, she laughed hoping her newly found friend could not hear her.

Drunks lined the streets wobbling from one place to another, one even being thrown out of a tavern in front of them. He rolled over cursing at those in the establishment eyeing one of the girls across the street. Georgiana’s fear cemented itself as they drew nearer to the fishing ship that brought her to Tortuga.

The crowded street was filled with sinful merriment she thought; looking to a balcony she saw a group of prostitute’s enticing a young man from down below on the street. She had remembered the last sermon of the minister talking of sins of the flesh and such things. She thought is funny that she thought of the sermon, while the night life of Tortuga was crawling out and wanting to play.

There wasn’t much Georgiana wanted to say what was, there simple pleasantries and such. She had been a shy one all her life, showing the occasional boldness only to have it knocked out of her or to be reprimanded as a child by a parent when she tried to express an opinion that was her own in certain circles.

Georgiana missed Lady Mercy terribly wishing for her advice knowing some of it might well come from Diana but Mercy had been a true friend to her and she felt like she had abandoned her. Watching Sol walk next to her and eyeing his weapon gave her some comfort.

Looking about the street and then gazing at the wharf she expected the Captain to be patronizing and very malicious towards her, how Mr. Galvez reacted remained to bee seen. As the two approached the ship the Captain looked upon her from his vessel.

The captain had made no attempt to hide his feelings towards her, he sneered at her as some of the crew cried out with cat calls as she had approached the ship. The small cabin boy sat atop her small trunk waiting for her. Paying him a bit of coin he happily ran up the gangplank, a small shiver of fear ran through her as the captain began his descent down the gangplank.

Georgiana hid behind the pirate at the sight of the Captain’s intimidating presence. He approached Sol saying to him through gritted teeth and pointing towards her, “Take the little wench, and be gone”.

Georgiana seemed more and more afraid at the sights of the animated town. Her grip on his arm was tighter, showing her emotions. He would have wanted to circle, more protectively, her shoulders with his arm, but he knew it wasn’t appropriate. Where has she lived before, that a normal town in the evening frightened her? But he remembered her words that her father had drunk his minds out, so he understood her reaction at seeing all those drunkards around.

As she was unusually silent, only looking with big childlike wondering eyes around, he started telling her, as he had promised before, about himself and his friendship with Frank. How he ended in Charleston prison, having the Jamaican on the other end of the same chain, how they escaped and found “Merciless”, its overpowering by the “Sea Hound”, the successful, but tragical fight for “Persephone” which ended with Frank’s death… and enough others’.

Speaking about his deceased friend with this lady he had barely known today seemed to do good to both of them. It distracted her attention from her fears and kept her mind preoccupied, and it helped him order his thoughts. Maybe two weeks of mourning for his sworn brother were enough. Maybe he had to let it go… if he knew how. The serenade which attracted Georgiana’s attention to him had been a good tribute, but until All Saints’ Day, perhaps he should try consciously to think less about him…

Arriving at the docks, he waited for her to show which ship they were going towards.

“Marie Gallante” was a nice Jamaican style sloop, not too big, but rather quick and steady, wearing the French flag. Its name didn’t tell much to Sol… the smugglers used to keep their country’s flag, by fear not to be mistaken as pirates and treated accordingly, and as there was no explicit war at present between French and English or Spanish and English, the choice was wise, this ship being able to roam safely both countries’ waters and to bring the most valuable luxury goods from Nueva Granada to the Dutch, British and French colony islands... and back. An in-between stop in Tortuga helped business too, because here all the pirates could be found… and everything they had looted could be sold at a cheaper price to the ones willing to give good gold coins for the goods… which, once transported in the right part of the Carribeans or to the Spanish main, would value double.

Sol was looking at the ship, admiring its beauty, and he did not notice Georgiana’s increasing nervousness, either the captain’s sneering look, but his temper flared when hearing the cat calls. Smuggler or pirate, he had never behaved like this and it simply wasn’t right!

He made efforts to calm down, knowing that actually nothing was right in this world… and that if he started a fight on the docks, he would soon be outnumbered by the crew, who most likely had no notions of fighting fair, then Georgiana might be the next object of their revenge.

Sol waited patiently on the docks while Georgiana went to take her small trunk. She paid the cabin boy, then she met the captain… What could have happened to frighten her so much? She hurried down, almost dropping the trunk in the dust, instead of letting it down carefully, and she hid childishly behind Sol, as if she expected him to defend her against the smuggler’s intimidating presence. Well, this wasn’t the smartest move for a woman wanting to keep her reputation in a town like Spittlefield… but he completely understood her when the man approached them, pointing towards his former passenger and telling him, with an unmistakable French accent, but in an acceptable English:

“Take the little wench, and be gone”.

These words fueled more the fury already growing in him since hearing the cat calls.

“We’ll be gone soon, but you owe an apology to this fine lady for your uncourteous behaviour! And that of the crew, too!” he answered menancingly, before measuring up his oponent.

Instead of apologizing, the Frenchman eyed him maliciously and, for Sol’s bewilderment, he said suddenly in Spanish, a language he mastered better than English, after having served under a captain from the New Spain and having done so many trips to the hidden bays of the Spanish Main:

“Look who has got a tongue to speak against me! One of Reyes’ young dogs! You can bark as much as you want, since your captain and most crew had been eaten by fish long time ago, and the ship you all were so proud of, is one of the prizes taken by the British! I took over his business in Hispaniola, Cuba and Jamaica!”

Sol looked at him more attentively, surprised to hear the name of “Volante”’s captain and references to his remote past. He definitely knew this fair-haired Frenchman in his late thirties, with ice gray eyes and harsh facial features. Yes, indeed, it was his own luck to stumble upon Antoine Levantin himself, the former First Mate of “La Mariposa”, their main rivals in smuggling towards this area!

“Que sorpresa!* Are you still alive? I heard you gave a helping hand to <La Mariposa’s> taking over and to its captain’s untimely death!” Sol answered on a scornful tone, in his native language, if he seemed to prefer it. “Then you fought with El Trigueño for the ship’s command… and he won, as I see you with another vessel now – a beautiful one! About our business in Hispaniola, Cuba and Jamaica - these weren’t much, anyway, you know well that our main trade was with the American colonies! You can keep them as you want, nobody would claim them from you and less of all me! I’m out of this business for a long time! But I still demand from you an apology to the lady, she is no <wench> and she did not deserve the way how you and your crew have treated her!”

He was aware that he wouldn’t receive any, as he knew this man. By contrary, there would be a fight. It was only a question of moments to see what Antoine Levantin intended to do, because Sol wasn’t the one to start it. And the answer came sooner than he expected:

“To hell with any babble! You’ll pay me with your blood both your presumption of today and all the deals you had stolen from us in the past!”

The Frenchman showed a dagger, preparing to attack him. Perhaps in other conditions, Sol wouldn’t have been so honourable as not to answer with the machete, but now… it wasn’t only the fact that Georgiana was watching and she could have considered him unfair to take the advantage of a longer blade, but the crew could have the same idea too… with further consequences that he couldn’t like at all.

He took out his machete from its sheath and, with a few steps back, he gave it to Georgiana, not paying attention to her fearful and surprised eyes growing wider, and immediately afterwards he lowered his hand to take out the navaja from its hiding place. It was a wise choice, as his moves wouldn’t be hindered by the longer blade. He also took out his vest, holding it in the left hand.

A cloak, a vest or even a handkerchief were successfully used by the Andalusian gamblers, barateros, in tandem with the navaja, being held in a specific way as a tool to block and trap various cuts and thrusts. If Antoine Levantin hadn’t taken lessons from certain former mates of “La Mariposa”, he would have an advantage anyway with his Andalusian fighting style. It wouldn’t be the first time when Sol’s navaja meets a dagger… and still does the piercing which gave his nickname!

The navaja was opened with its normal sound, but it seemed the Frenchman hadn’t met one before directly against him, so he jerked upwards. Sol smiled ironically while taking the needed stance, with the thumb on the first third of the blade, having the edge orientated inside and with the left leg in front. He looked curiously at his enemy, to see which way he would attack. He knew that Antoine Levantin had enough experience in street brawls in order to be a good match for him, and he had to be careful.

The smuggler dashed forward with the dagger, on his right side, but he was met by a sweeping movement of the vest wrapped on Sol’s forearm. Immediately the pirate turned on his left foot and reached out with his blade, but the Frenchman took a step behind and escaped the stroke.

Sol advanced towards him, his hand describing a curve from right to left, rapidly and powerfully flicking the wrist to produce a strike meant to end in Levantin’s chest, but as he moved, the navaja cut only the Frenchman’s arm. The smuggler, not accustomed to resist a navaja, did not expect this unusual type of slash – otherwise his retreat would have avoided the wound.


* What a surprise!

She held the large knife uncertainly not knowing what to do with it. Retreating behind a large barrel resting on the docks she watched the two men advance and fight one another. Georgiana had never been used to such actions biting her lip hoping the pirate would not fall under the Frenchman’s dagger.

Watching the two men fight she stepped out of their way, no one had ever fought for her honor.

The crew watched as their captain matched blades with Sol, she hoped that this would not be his last fight. Listening to the cheers from above, she pleaded with Sol."Please" she begged, "No one needs to die today".

Sol fought calmly, calculating each move, with his dark eyes always fixed on the enemy’s, irrespective how Levantin provoked him with words or gestures. Yes, he had a temper, which lead him to fight, but once the blade in hand, the state of mind changed completely, focused on the task, with the navaja becoming a natural – and deadly – prolongation of his own limb.

He was concentrating well, oblivious to anything except his oponent. He had barely heard Georgiana’s pleading, as busy as he was with raindrop blocks meant to parry the dagger attack. With the palm down, cupping the opponent’s hand, he made the smuggler retreat one step more, then another, when an idea occurred to him.

But the girl was right, it was no use for him to kill Levantin – or at least not now, for the only guilt of being more foul-mouthed than others. Besides, if he did it, the crew might have thrown themselves on him, giving him the same fate. And Georgiana? What could have been their revenge on her?

There was a solution to end the conflict without stabbing their captain to death, and he was envisaging now exactly this one. When the Frenchman prepared again to attack, Sol caught his wrist and pushed him forward. The water, waving alluringly at one or two steps distance, was ready to receive in its wet arms the unlucky brawler.

“You are fighting well for an almibarado señorito*, but next time you are raising your dagger, take care for it to meet another one like yours, not a navaja!” he shouted to the man in the water while closing his weapon and putting it back in its hiding place.

The answer was an elaborated curse, demonstrating that Antoine Levantin had learnt all the subtilities of Spanish language from his former captain.

The crew members, seeing their captain alive and swimming, didn’t attempt to get Sol. He put his vest on, not paying attention to the wrinkles, and went towards Georgiana, with a triumphant smile.

“They usually said Frenchmen are more polite!” he joked, feigning innocence. “I guess this one is learning his lesson the hard way! Let him be washed of his sins, while we go back on our merry way! Jacquotte is waiting for us!”

He took the trunk and headed towards the “Pure poison”, smiling her again, as if nothing had happened a few moments before.

* spoiled boy

Georgiana was surprised at his calm demeanor wondering more about Sol, looking back at the Frenchman being helped out of the waters by a few of his crew. “How do you know that man” she asked skittishly walking beside him.

Her fears had been subsided while walking with Sol, jumping at the sound of breaking bottles. She had not been used to the night in Bridgetown and she was unsure of it here. The street was lit and Spittlefield was alive but her fears refused to go away. She stayed close to her new protector wondering to herself what would happen next.

A slight chill was in the air whilst the two walked towards the poison. She shivered a little, her cloak was thinner then she had previously thought. The air was getting slightly colder so she walked closer towards Sol seeking some warmth.

He caught her look towards the ship – and yes, Levantin was safe aboard… hopefully with a lesson learnt, but Sol doubted this. By contrary, he supposed he would be “warmly” waited some other time, in another port, for a revenge…

“Come what may!” he thought. "I don’t care about him!”

“How do you know that man?” Georgiana asked him.

Sol expected that question, as it was obvious even for somebody not understanding Spanish that they quarrelled a little more than two people who had seen each other for the first time.

He smiled and started another of his sea-related stories:

“Antoine Levantin was the First Mate of La Mariposa. His captain was our main rival when I was on the smugglers’ ship, Volante… This happened before the Brits captured us, and he had flaunted now the fact that our ship was among the prizes taken by them… But I learnt afterwards – news or gossip travel quickly in ports - what happened on his ship… He lead a mutiny against Captain Sanchez and …I am not sure if that man died by Levantin’s hands or by other’s… anyway, that mutiny was won in a sea of blood. Then the Frenchman fought with the quartermaster for the command of La Mariposa… and it is obviously that he wasn’t the winner, as we saw him on another ship now… His own, with a French name… and he was bragging about having taken over our …business connections in Port-de-Paix, Bahamas and Jamaica. But his trade with the Spanish Main is with Nueva Granada, not with New Spain! So be it, I had no qualms with it, I asked him only an apology to you… But he wanted blood, and his was the shed one! Don’t worry, it was only a minor slash!”

Sol felt her shivering and, as it was impossible to be really cold in the tropical summer evening, he was sure that Georgiana was still under the shock of the fight. His impression was confirmed by how she jumped at the sound of bottles broken outside a tavern.

Instinctively, his free arm passed around her shoulders, not caring anymore about propriety.

“Don’t be afraid! Nothing can harm you as long as I am here!”

Then, still trying to understand her, he asked:

“Should I understand that it was the first time you have witnessed a fight? He didn’t stand any chance, a French dagger against a Spanish navaja! The fighting styles are totally different”, Sol explained, “and if I knew what to expect from him, my attacks were surprising him.”

Her warm presence stirred his mind, and he tried to concentrate on the words, not letting it wander to interminable “what if?” The trunk seemed too easy and the road to “Pure Poison” too short, now, that each step forward meant one closer to “Good bye”.

When they entered the bar, Sol told Georgiana:

“I’ll wait here until Jacquotte helps you to your room. And until you come back, I’d have time, if the offer is still valid, to browse your notebook!”

As he had seen before, she had a nice penmanship, so at least he wasn’t so worried about not understanding her handwritting. If he understood most of the words, that remained to be seen. And even if not, there were drawings too… Actually, Sol hoped to know her better with learning more about her interests.

Sol’s touch was very protective and she liked it. The chill she had felt dispersed and his words were comforting to hear , she seemed embarrassed by his question afterward. “I have witnessed many an argument, but never a fight” Georgiana replied unaware of the surprise and tinge of fear in her voice.

“No one has ever fought for my honor before” she said biting her lip, she looked down at her shoes slightly flustered, “I always seem to cause trouble wherever I go, I don’t mean to I just do”. Georgiana felt like she sounded to Sol like a pouting child, blushing again “I apologize for causing you trouble” she replied.

Stepping inside the tavern she eyed Jacquotte at the bar."Sol if you like, you could look through my notebook" she said shyly handing over to him the small black notebook.

He felt her relaxing under his touch, like a kitten brought in a safe place. Sol was pleased to notice she wasn’t shivering anymore.

Georgiana admitted fearfully that indeed, it was the first fight she had witnessed, even if arguments were not uncommon for her.

“No one has ever fought for my honor before. I always seem to cause trouble wherever I go, I don’t mean to I just do. I apologize for causing you trouble.” she blushed.

“You weren’t any trouble, he was. And he deserved a lesson! If no one has fought for your honour until now… my princess, I am glad that I am your devoted guard and nobody else!” he smiled teasingly.

He had thought “knight”, not “guard”, but he didn’t know the English word for it. And if his hand wasn’t full with the trunk, he would have bowed more than politely, to complete the teasing, exactly like in front of a princess. He was aware that his statement sounded a little too bold… however it was true in a strange way. Yes, Jacquotte was right. Sol liked Georgiana more than any other girl met during the latest… too many years! She was so unusual, not ressembling to any of those he had known in the ports he roamed as a smuggler or a pirate… He enjoyed the idea of being her knight… and the old Spanish romances and ballads were passing through his mind in the meantime.

Actually he would have fought with Antoine Levantin for all the past bad blood between them, even without any additional reason, but becoming Georgiana’s hero… couldn’t be a better opportunity!

Once in the bar, Georgiana handed him her notebook, with a shy smile, and left with Jacquotte. He couldn’t abstain looking after them until they got out the room. Both graceful, both red-haired, but if Jacquotte’s moves were skilfully seductive and refined, Georgiana’s were naturally charming…

Jacquotte looked up from where she was perusing her ledger to the fast approaching Georgiana. Giving the girl a friendly smile, the bar-owner bookmarked her place and placed the ledger, locking it with a slender, iron key.

"Sol show you around town? Tortuga may be a pirate port but some parts are rather lovely."

She remembered there was a small cover, towards the west part of the port, practically hugging the shoreline. Her husband had shown it to her and he had conspired to take her there many a time, but she had always declined. Considering what her plans for him, it had seemed even more immoral. She frowned slightly, willing away her dark thoughts. Now was not the time for contemplation. She had a new girl to show the ropes to.

Jacquotte looked around the bar quickly. At this time, not a great deal of customers were populating the place. She therefore deemed it safe for her to take her newest recruit up to her rooms and give her a tour of the establishment.

"How about I take you to your rooms, love? I've got only a few moments before the pirates pour in and I'll probably need you to commandeer a few table as well."

She looked in askance at the younger woman, who was discreetly glancing back at Sol. Her looks drew a smile from Jacquotte, who couldn't help but take joy at the slow courtship between the two.

“Yes, Miss he did” she replied to her new mistress’s question cheerfully “Spittlefield is quite a lovely place”. Georgiana had always been fearful of authority figures, lowering her head and staring at the floor. Jacquotte seemed different; yes she was firm with her girls but not to the point of an authoritarian.

“Yes, Miss I would like to see the room” Georgiana replied. She descended the stairs after Jacquotte looking in on the part of the tavern deemed “Guilty Pleasures”. Hearing laughter and chatter from the “Ladies” behind these doors changing and readying themselves for the coming patrons seeking their services. Her fear grew more evident while she made her way through the corridor.

What had she gotten herself into, she thought looking around at the women as she passed. She did not look down on them as others would have. Thoughts of seeing this hard life through their eyes strangely calmed her.

Some of the girls greeted her friendly like while some viewed her as nothing more then added competition. New meat you could say, this place would take some getting used to she thought. Not all people would like each other and there was always bound to be competition in the world be it for a trade agreement or the coveted spot inside a mans heart.

When the two reached the second set of stairs she noticed more rooms upstairs on the third floor. At the end of the hall they stopped at one and Jaquotte opened the door for her.

Georgiana stepped inside to look at the place, yes the furniture was sparse but after awhile she could make it feel like home. Her window overlooked the harbor and she could see the world below go about its business.

“Thank you” she said to Jacquotte more at ease with the current surroundings. Most women in her situation would see it as a shame to work in such a place, to Georgiana it was the perfect place. In a strange way she felt safe and not so alone in her world.

The bed was a medium sized brass bed situated next to a small night table with a lone candle atop it. The bedding was simple a rose colored blanket with white sheets. A small table and chair placed into the corner to the right of the door placed there like they had not been used in some time. A small mirror decorated one of the walls, underneath it stood a small stand with a bowl and pitcher. The walls were a nice cream color with simple wood flooring.

Georgiana may have had all the time in the world at her leisure before she set out on her own. Now she had to learn the tasks of a working seamstress and barmaid. For the tasks at hand she did not think she was prepared to handle herself well as a barmaid after her small showing, fumbling around with the cup.

Quite content with her boarding she looked around once more taking in a deep breath. “Might we go downstairs ?” she replied softly, looking out the window seeing the stars dot the night sky.

While waiting for the two ladies to return, Sol admired Georgiana’s drawings, then he browsed through poems and short stories, getting accustomed with her handwriting. Poems were easier to read and showed an unusual sensibility, in his opinion of a man already familiar with songs lyrics, however he liked the best a short story of hers, titled “The Siren’s Song”.

How could a seaman not like a story about a sailor that had fallen overboard, entranced by a mermaid’s song? If he had promised Georgiana to play guitar for her later and to sing, now he knew what song to dedicate her, as mermaids were present both in the Mexican and English songs.

Almost everything was meant to highlight how special Georgiana was, a strange mix of totally opposite features brought together harmoniously, making him want to spend more time with her, to know her better… some day to hold her in his arms.

When he saw Georgiana and Jacquotte coming back, he got up and asked the barmaid to give him back the guitar. The bar started already to get populated and he knew that soon Jacquotte would ask Georgiana for help, so if there were a few words he would say her, this would be the only available time.

“How do you like your room?” he asked her.

Looking at Jacquotte, Sol said:

“First I’ll have a song for you, then for Georgiana… and afterwards for everybody else! Thank you very much… for everything, Jac! I hope you don’t mind that I promised Georgiana to show her around the town tomorrow morning, as now we went only to her ship and back here with the luggage. She needs to learn where the market is and to get oriented here! Afterwards you have my word I won't disturb anyone of you two from your work!”

His voice sounded really grateful… and he knew that Jacquotte’s favourite song was one from Santiago, “Two gardenias”, so he started playing it:

“Two gardenias for you -
with them in hand, I want to say
my life, I love you, I adore you
Look after them well,
because they are your heart and mine!

Two gardenias for you
that will have all the warmth of a kiss
like the ones I gave you
and that you'll never find
in the heat of another love.

They will live by your side and will speak to you
just like when you're with me
and you'll even believe
that they will say 'I love you'

But if during a sunset
the gardenias of my love were to die
it is because they have figured out
that your love for me has faded,
because there is a new love.”

(((listen to the song at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wmfa2XznVic )))

Jacquotte’s girls who were already in the bar smiled him happily when seeing the guitar in his hand. One of them asked him boldly:

“If you are you going to play tonight, don’t forget my favourite song!”

He was already habituated with such requests. Here, safely at anchor in Spittlefield and in the “Pure poison”, where the crew of “Sea Hound” was warmly received, the sea battles were forgotten for a while and his guitar was liked as much as other mates’ harmonica, fiddle or flute… because he wasn’t the only one with musical skills.

“Yes, I’ll play… whatever you all want, a little later! But you know that for certain songs I need your help with singing them, I don’t know all the lyrics and you wouldn’t want it to have only a chorus!”

Turning to Georgiana, he gave her back the notebook, thanking her politely and telling his impressions:

“I like both your drawings and your writing. I believe you’re going to become a known writer if this is what you want! I won’t tell you which of your stories I liked the most, but you’ll understand it from the song I have for you. It can be translated as follows…”

He preferred to tell her the meaning of the Spanish song before starting singing it, because he knew afterwards she’d be busy:

“When a fisherman passed in his fishing boat
Close to the rocks bathed by the sea
He heard a voice singing nicely
And he rowed closer to that place,
Madly wishing to keep with him that sweet voice.

When he took up his net, he caught inside
The little mermaid of green reflexions.
The fisherman saw her in the moonlight
And when he wanted to touch her,
She turned into foam in order to escape from him.

Since then each full moon night
The fisherman in his boat leaves in searching for a song
But the only one he hears is not the mermaid’s,
Only of the waves breaking in the serene sea.

Down below him, in the depth, the mermaid
Is playing freely with pearls and corals,
Very far from his reach, never getting out of the waves
Because the law of the sea doesn’t know of romance.”

((( listen to the song at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJI_KHstLak )))

“You are no mermaid”, he teased her afterwards, “so I hope you don’t turn into foam until tomorrow morning! I can be here at nine o’clock, we’d have breakfast together, then we’ll see the town.”

The girl answered well, if a bit timidly to all her questions. Seeing the trepidation in her eyes, Jacquotte ceased her inquiries. THe girl was very unused to this sort of life and Jacquotte was all the more glad for it.

Suddenly, the elder woman was overcome with a need to warn Georgiana. They shared the same bright hair colour and Jacquotte could not help but feel a kinship with her. She sat down gingerly on the bed and after smoothing the cover a few times, she spoke in a low, sincere voice to Georgiana,

"You're welcome, love. For the room and the job. But I hope you understand what an opportunity you've been given,"

She turned to look at Georgiana now, green meeting blue.

"Almost every young girl who comes here, with pretty, clean faces like yours ends up with scars sooner or later. Even strong ones like me," she said, with a laugh more bitter than sweet, as she tilted her wrist to Georgiana, where two faint, white scar lines could be seen.

Jacquotte now bit her lip in thought and paused a moment before continuing.

"Those girls you saw out in the hallway? They're good girls but they're hard and they can be mean too. This life may be terrible but it gives you strength and will and for that I will be grateful always."

THe bar-owner now got up and approached Georgiana slowly. Taking one of the girl's hand in her own, she pressed it lightly.

"I don't want you o give up your hope and your naivety. It's charming and innocent. But you gotta toughen up, girl. Because as safe as a haven this place is, I won't always be around to protect you."

Jacquotte let go of Georgina's hand and after giving her a small smile, opened the door to proceed downstairs.

"Yes, let's. I'm sure Sol has a song or too up his sleeve."

And hen did. Jacquotte listened in delight as he sang her favourite and clapped louder than anyone else as he brought the song to an end. She fetched him a glass of his favorite as a thank you and after nodding at Georgiana, went to tend to the bar.

“If you are going to play tonight, don’t forget my favorite song” Minette replied boldly and laughing.

Minette had been working the bar prior to Jacquotte taking the new girl upstairs. There she watched the new girl talk with Jac. The life of a whore was not easy and she felt for the girl. Minette liked hearing gossip but was not one herself choosing only to listen to some of the outlandish stories.

Wiping down the bar she tossed the rag to one of the other girls and approached the growing group.

After he played his songs she replied “Sol, Mon Amour how are you this evening, it is good to see you, how long has it been”. She seemed to be talking so fast it all came out in one breath.

“And who is this” Minette asked motioned to the small little redhead standing next to Jacquotte. She was happy to see a new face in the crowd of women circling around Sol so they might hear him sing and play.