Pirates of the Caribbean: Barbossa and the King's Messenger (Book 1)

Captain Jack Sparrow

Chapter Two -- Captain Jack Sparrow

Tropical sunlight flooded through the small window panes in the apothecarist's shop as I sat writing at the clerk's tall desk. It was now a year since I had been employed by Jasper Ticking, MD and Apothecarist. When the shop was open, I dispensed medicines, stitched up wounds for the town's seafaring folk, and kept books for Dr Ticking. Any idle moments were spent pining hopelessly for James.

I had secured my situation upon the very day I arrived in Port Royal by going to the Merchant Exchange and enquiring after the town's surgeons and apothecarists. It seemed to be common knowledge among the larger purveyors of medicinal supplies that Jasper Ticking of Tower Street was often in need of an assistant, and so I walked the short distance to visit his establishment.

Upon entering the shop, I had found Ticking seated at the very desk I now occupied. He was a small, thin man who did not appear to be in health, with a lack-luster eye and pale, twitching hands.

"Good day, sir, I wonder if I might trouble you for a moment?" I asked, bobbing slightly in an approximation of a curtsey.

He smiled vaguely at me, and I continued. "My name is Nina Boscawen, from London. I am lately arrived in Port Royal, and am seeking employment. I wondered if you have heard of any doctor or apothecarist in town who might be in need of an assistant?" I waited anxiously, hoping he would indicate some interest.

Although he replied with a faint smile and a nod, I was struck by the tired and monotonous tone of his voice. "As it happens," he told me, "I have been seeking someone to tend my shop. My wife is . . . ill, you see." He paused until I thought he had lost the thread of our conversation, but then he added, "Do you think you might be suited to such work? Do you have any sort of references, Miss Bos . . . ?"

"Boscawen," I answered. "I am the daughter of Dr Ranby Boscawen of London." Here I swallowed hard, out of nervousness at my lies, but contrived to pass it off as distress at my situation. "My dear father was well-known in London - he was even called to court once, to consult on . . . on a matter of some delicacy." I knew better than to make any statement, true or false, regarding the health of the Royal Family. "He always allowed me to assist him in his surgery, and I have some knowledge of mixing compounds and the proper application of many remedies. He also," I added, thinking of Rufus, "taught me to close wounds by stitching."

Dr Ticking looked horrified yet intrigued. "Did he now? Well, it seems you've received an unusual education to say the least. And what brings you to Port Royal?"

I sighed. "Debt and ill-health ruined my father's fortunes, and his death shattered our family. I wrote to an uncle I had heard was living in Port Royal, but had no reply. I decided to set out to find him, but either my information was in error, or he left town long ago."

"And what was his name?" enquired Dr Ticking, after another long, dreamy pause.

"Carteret Smith," I replied, hoping that Dr Ticking was not acquainted with anyone by that name.

Dr Ticking did not seem to be attending to my answer, and now I observed that his pupils were as small as pinpoints under his drooping eyelids, and his complexion was pallid. As I took in the details of his haggard appearance and unkempt wig, I began to realise that Dr Ticking exhibited many signs of opium addiction.

Finally, he focused his attention once more. "Your speech is genteel and pleasant, Miss. Port Royal is destined for prosperity and greatness once again, and to hold the custom of my patients, I require that my shop reflect the air of refinement which you possess."

I kept a solemn, hopeful face, although I inwardly laughed at the idea of being engaged to work here due to my speech rather than any of my skills.