Let’s start this story right at the beginning, which, coincidentally, is a good place to start.
Well, we won’t go too far back, let’s start when I’m about 11.
I’m Evangeline, and my best friend in the whole world is Elizabeth Swan.
My father died when I was young, so my mother faced all the odds and raised me alone, with great help from Elizabeth’s father, because Elizabeth’s mother had died as well.
It was out of penance to my mother that I pretended not to see the bag of coins being exchanged between our parents the day that the first boat left for the new East India Trading Company, and I left to live with Elizabeth.
My and Elizabeth had a lot in common, we had a secret fetish for pirates and adventure, and we both hated dresses but knew we had reputations, with Elizabeth’s father being so important, and we had to attend a lot of the events.
But the way I differed from Elizabeth and the other young ladies was in my appearance.
Though we had both been told on many occasions we were the most beautiful pair of girls they’d ever seen, Elizabeth managed to look like a proper lady, even in my best dress, which always had to be the same as Elizabeth’s, only in varying, usually contrasting shades of pastel.
I always had the air of ruggedness and wild grace, with long dark hair that was curly in some places and straight in others, huge dark hazel eyes and tanned, high cheekbones and long lean legs and body, as opposed to being short and delicate, pale and mousey, like the other girls my age, and even Elizabeth.
I stuck out like a sore thumb, but sometimes not in a bad way.
But it did not help me win the affection of Will Turner, which would always lie with Elizabeth since the day we saved him from drowning on the boat to Port Royal in Jamaica.
I grabbed the strange thing from round his neck, and gave it too Elizabeth for us to study later, and so he wasn’t identified as a pirate.
I will never forget that day, even eight years later, at 2o years old. I saw something sailing away from the wreckage of the burning ship, a huge ship sailing away with sails the colour of coal and the pirate flag clearly flowing in the breeze, I nudged Elizabeth, she saw it too, we shared a look, half excitement, half heart stopping fear, then I plucked the medallion from around his pale neck.
I remember earlier on, how the old ship master Mr Gibbs was complaining about us singing a pirate song on the deck, it was so misty and strange, he said it was bad luck to have women on board “even miniature ones”
Then James snob headed Warrington bears down on him with his nasally annoying voice. He told us that he will makes sure ‘Any person who waves a pirate flag or bears a pirate brand will be hanged, with a short drop and a sudden stop’ he smiled down at Elizabeth and bared his teeth in a grimace at me, because I was the one who thought it would be “A very definitely excellent adventure to be a pirate”
So when we found Will in the water next to the burning wreckage of a British ship, and ‘Father’ told me and Elizabeth he was our charge, we found out his name was William Turner, we said nothing about the necklace, or the ship.
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Eight Years Later.
“Oh, and I got you both a gift from London” Weatherby Price announces, Elizabeth’s father, as our chamber maid carries in two large boxes, my heart quickens, I do sometimes enjoy a new dress.
I wink at Elizabeth “Thank you father!” We chirp together as our dressing maids get us behind our screens; obviously we’ll be wearing them today when the idiotic snob James Warrington gets promoted to Commodore. Very, very boring, but he has his sights set on Elizabeth, so I won’t let her out of my sight, she simply cannot marry that oaf.
And, I now call Weatherby Swan father, he requested it, and anything to bring me and Elizabeth closer together than too actually be thought of as sisters. We swore a blood oath in our bedroom the first night in Jamaica, in the breezy villa style mansion we call home, too never be separated as long as we both shall live.
I peer at Elizabeth from over the top of our opposite facing screens, seeing the many underskirts and scary looking petticoats. She looks back at me, with a look of ‘may look better when it’s on?’
A corset is fixed firmly around my larger than normal bosom, and pulled tightly, a load grunt escapes from my firmly clamped mouth, as a more ladylike gasp comes from Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth, how’s yours coming?”
“It’s difficult to say” she replied in a breathless voice, obviously it wasn’t just me who found this a cruel and unusual sense of punishment
“I’m told it’s the latest fashion in London.” Weatherby continues, as my lungs start to deflate, as Adrianna, my dresser, pulls the thing even tighter, “Well girls in London must have learnt not to breathe!” I gasp out indignantly. “Now, Eva, watch your tongue!”
“Sorry father” I say, rolling my eyes being the wooden carved screen.
“Elizabeth, how’s yours looking?” He asked
I grip my hands round the sides of the screen and brace myself as the corset pulled even tighter, my head started too spin.
When I stood up straight so my maid could pull on the petticoat and skirts, the tightness of the corset became a little bit more bearable. “Elizabeth?” I whispered, as Weatherby was called away by the butler. I looked out onto the deep blue sea and the green mountains that surrounded it, such an amazing change to the musty grey scenery of London.
“Yes?”
“I think I may feint” I reply
“I know the feeling, what colour’s yours?” She managed to get out
“Blue. Why is everything I receive now blue?” I ask “I mean, I pass comment on the colour of the sea just once.”
“Well, blue does look lovely on your colouring.” She replied trying to lighten my complaining, she knows the real reason is just too fill the empty air space, because James hangs in it like his cloud of white horse hair wig.
Elizabeth is well aware that he likes her, and she despises him in return, well, I despise him, she just dislikes his company. I haven’t had that many suitors, the young handsome sailors father won’t let though the door, and the older ones, more like James , think that it won’t suit them very well, they see me as the unbroken mare, if you will, the rouge pony, because I look nothing like the other girls and women.
“Ready?” Elizabeth asks, standing before me, her dress is pale with tiny embroidered flowers in different pastel shades and darker tones. “Well at least one of us looks lovely” I say, raising my eyebrows.
“Port Royal just isn’t ready for the rather tanned young lady yet miss” My maid said grinning as the two dressers left. Elizabeth’s hair had been curled and her bonnet put on, I was inclined to not even bother, and just leave my hair to the wild dark mess it liked to be, but Elizabeth sat me down and quickly worked her magic and turned the wild waves into spiralling pin curls, in a half up half down style, after I refused to wear a bonnet.
When we had completely finished getting ready, we headed out, arm in arm as usual, down the staircase. “Oh, hang on; I want to wear my satin pumps!” I say, and head back up into the bedroom to change the blue leather shoes to the white satin ones. I change the shoes, and pluck at the ¾ length frilly blue sleeves on my dress before rushing down the stairs “I’m not late am I “ I say loudly, as I notice Will’s here.
“Oh, good morning Will” I say
“Miss Swan” He bows his head to me, I wink back, sometimes I sneak out without Elizabeth to sit in the blacksmith’s shop, we drink his master’s rum, and he teaches me how to swordfight, it seems I am a natural.
But in front of everyone, he is completely different person. “I had a dream about you last night Will” Elizabeth said.
“Me?” He asked, surprised
“Yes, the day we met, do you remember?”
“Of course, how could I forget, you saved my life Miss Swan.”
“How many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?”
“At least once more Miss Swan”
“There, you see, at least the boy has a sense of propriety” Weatherby gestured to Will “Now we really must be going.” He said, and picked up the box that held James’ new sword for becoming commodore, the rat. Will had slaved over it for weeks.
“Good day Mr Turner” Elizabeth said, batting her eyelashes
“Bye Will” I say, as the bustle of servants and maids leave the house, and Weatherby, Elizabeth and I get into the carriage.
………………………………………………….
“Elizabeth, do you have my...”
“Yes, here you go.” Elizabeth hands me my parasol and fan, Weatherby rolls his eyes, I always forget.
As we file in to the fortress, we take seats with the other ladies. On the front row, I and Elizabeth fan us harshly trying to not feint, breathing is terribly difficult.
I can feel myself dozing off during the display of arms and the procession, and the ceremony itself, only Elizabeth’s sharp elbows and pinches keep me fanning myself and awake, the day is hot and the top of my dress is cutting into my chest so there is a painful red line that the sweat stings, which only makes me fan myself harder.
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At the party afterwards, Commodore, as I know call him scathingly, quickly took a hobbling, gasping Elizabeth to the edge of the old ruins of the first fort to be built here, where all important event take place. Where they stand is just a sheer drop to the ocean.
After I finish my second flute of champagne, I immediately feel better, so I decide Elizabeth needs one, I rush up to her breathing easier. “Elizabeth, here, drink this, it’ll help” I say, breathless
“You have become a fine woman, Elizabeth” James says, as I link my arm through hers, pushing the glass at her. “I can’t breathe” she wheezes
“Yes, I found it hard to believe at first as well.”, then she fell off the edge, pulling me with her. I let out a scream, as James manages to catch a hold of my arm before I tumble to the rocks “Elizabeth!” I shout, as more men help pull me up, then James starts shouting as well, as I turn around and run down all the steps, to where I’m closest to the water, navy men are shouting and running in from everywhere, I catch sight of Weatherby looking frantic.
About 3o seconds after Elizabeth hit the water, her fall slowed by her dress, a strange pulse, quick as lightening seems to beat through the air, and it brings to mind the pirate medallion, hidden in our shared beaureau at home, in the false bottom of the second drawer…
Then the wind picks up and blows my hair free from its pins holding it back, and my delicate pin curls fly out into tangles. I’m so scared, Elizabeth, don’t die! Please don’t die!
I ran ahead of the navy men, down on to the pier near the docks, they over take my as Elizabeth, clad on her white under dress and corset, was flowed on to the deck, and a man I didn’t recognize pull himself up behind her, I wasn’t concentrating as I fell down at her side, ribs aching and lungs burning from the run and the constricted lung space “She’s not breathing!” I yell, and the man pulls out a shiny dagger, and in his worn tan , ringed fingers, he cut open her corset, her head turns to the side and a river of water flows out her mouth in a spluttering cough.
The rest of her corset is ripped off and torn aside, and I wish mine could be too, as I can feel my vision turning again as I try desperately to get air in my lungs as the pirate medallion around Elizabeth’s neck catches the man’s eye.
Why is she wearing the medallion? Is that what caused the pulse? We both swore we’d never wear it outside, as far as I know it’s been in the false bottom drawer for more than 2 years.
“I never would of thought of that” One of the naval men said, a chubby one I’ve often heard the others call a dunce “Clearly you’ve never been to Singapore” the man said.
I take in his appearance, tangled long dark hair, tanned face with angular high cut cheekbones, a wide bandana round his head, beads also threaded though his hair. Grimy white bell shirt, brown pants and black boots. His eyes are hazel. He picks up the medallion, Elizabeth looks at him. “Where did you get that?” He asks slowly. I snatch it away from him
“None of your business, it’s ours” I snatch, and grab it out of his hands, and place it back on Elizabeth’s chest. The man looks at me with a strange expressions, I look back at him. For a moment there’s a feeling of looking in a mirror.
Then a light silver sword is pushed to his neck “On your feet” says the nasally voice of the new Commodore.
Weatherby rushes down to us both, helping me lift Elizabeth up, I quickly stuff the gold chain back into her dress, while a heavy coat is pushed around her soldiers “Elizabeth , are you alright!?” He asks her “yes, yes, I’m fine!” she says, voice a little horse. Our eyes all fall on the second naval man, still holding Elizabeth’s ripped corset to his chest, I raise an eyebrow, he drops it and points at the man. “Shoot him!” Bellows Weatherby.
“Father!” I shout “Are you really going to shoot the man that saved Elizabeth’s life!” I say, to both him and the commodore.
I go to stand next to commodore “do you really intend to shoot my rescuer?” Elizabeth said to him from behind me. He nods a little mutely; I stare at him threateningly before he orders the rifles to be lowered. “You’re right; I believe thanks are in order.”
Commodore offers his right hand to the man. He recoils a little and jingles his fingers around before shaking commodore’s hand like it’s something nasty one would find on the floor, quick as a flash, his sleeve is ripped up. “Aha! Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?” Commodore says victoriously. I feel my mouth gape a little; I knew he must have been a pirate. And there’s the proof, a ‘p’ branded in to his skin to show he’s been caught as a pirate.
“Hang him” Weatherby says, I look at him shocked as Commodore gets the orders for the men to raise their guns again
“Fetch some irons” James orders again, sliding the pirate’s sleeve further up, to reveal a faded, beautiful tattoo of a bird, a sparrow I think, crossing over a sunset.
“Well, well, Jack Sparrow”
“Captain Jack Sparrow, if you don’t mind” Jack Sparrow said. Jack Sparrow, Jack Sparrow was here, right now, a real life pirate, and a famous one too.
“I don’t see your ship, captain.” Commodore said like he was funny
“I’m in the market” Jack Sparrow retaliated “As it were”
“Said he’d come to commandeer one” the chubbier naval man said, then his other, even stupider looking friend said “Told you he was telling the truth, these are his, Sir” He bent down to pick up a triangular, worn brown leather hat full of odds and ends.
A pistol with only one bullet, a compass that didn’t point north and a metal dagger in a scabbard “Huh, and I half expected it to be made of wood.” James said. Sparrow smiled a small smile in my direction, I just looked back at him, why was he so familiar?
“You are, with no doubt, the worst pirate I have ever heard off” Commodore finished, I bit back a retort, he was the only pirate I had ever met, and I thought he was fantastic.
Sparrow paused, pointed his handcuffed hands at commodore, “But you have heard of me” he said in his whimsical voice.
Then he was roughly grabbed away and pulled down the jetty I ran in front of James, Elizabeth had shaken off father and ran beside me “Commodore! I really must protest!” I shout
“This man saved my life, pirate or not!” Elizabeth chipped in
“And that is all very well, but one good deed is not enough to change a lifetime of bad ones” Commodore replied sharply
“But it is enough to condemn him” Sparrow chipped in.
Then he grabbed Elizabeth round the neck with his handcuff chain, “Commodore, my affects, please” He yelled, I grabbed his pile of things. “Now, Elizabeth, it is Elizabeth isn’t it darling?” He said to her. “It’s Miss Swan” she replied angrily and curtly. “Come on dear, we don’t have all day, I passed Elizabeth the things quickly, where she had to put on his hat and his pelt, while he held his gun to her head. My heart quickened. “Easy on the goods darling” he said, smiling, showing a few gold teeth.
“You’re despicable” she said
“Sticks and stones, love, I saved your life, you save mine, we’re square” he said slowly
He wheeled her round again, pointing the gun into the crowd of naval seamen, I ran quickly back to stand with commodore and father. He slowly put the gun back to her head. “Gentlemen! Ladies, he nodded to me, I could only blink in return. “You will always remember this as the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow, he throws Elizabeth into my open arms, she clutches me tight and I clutch her back, half excitement form me, fear and anger from her.
What happens next is too fast to follow, he grabs a rope, kicks some iron cogs that operate the pulley system in the harbour, and he is swung round, as Commodore commands an open fire. He lands on top of a wooden post, then hooking his handcuffs around a rope and sliding down back to land, down the pier and across the bridge, all the while dodging bullets.
All I can do is stand and watch, hypnotized.
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That night, Elizabeth goes to bed early, and I stay in the library, supposedly reading, but really I’m practising with the sword that is supposed to be mounted on the wall which I have pulled loose. It isn’t perfectly balanced like the one in the dining room, but that one will not come loose and it will be easily spotted if it goes missing.
Soon I give up and go to the bedroom, already in my plain white lacy nightgown. Elizabeth is sat up in her bed reading; as the maid puts a hot coal pan in the bottom of her bed too heat it up. I never need one, the maid jokes that I’m naturally hot blooded. “Yes, it is a smart match” Elizabeth is saying to the maid
“I hope you aren’t talking about commodore, he is definitely not a smart match.” I say, perching on the end of her bed “Evangeline, you don’t understand, you still act like such a child” Elizabeth scolded. The maid chuckles “When the time is right miss, she’ll grow up.” She said to Elizabeth
“Well the time needs to hurry up.” Elizabeth says
“And that Will Turner, he’s a fine man too” The maid says
“That may be too bold” Elizabeth said, eyes wide, the maid had struck a nerve, with both of us admittedly. “I like Will” I say.
“I know” Elizabeth said
“Begging your pardon miss, it is not my place” the maid said when she left.
When the door closes, I turn to face Elizabeth. “I can’t believe you wore that today” I whispered frantically and she held the medallion on its chain in her hand. “I wanted too!” she replied back
“Yes but it’s dangerous, we don’t even know what it does!” I said, as I got into my own comfortable bed. The light from the oil lamp flickers. I look at Elizabeth. Is it overactive imagination from a particularly draining day?
The light goes out completely. I am not a huge fan of the dark, and there was no breeze or wind, the French doors are shut, the windows locked. I slide out of bed and leap in next to Elizabeth, a childish gesture for two ladies of 2o.
I clutch her arm as she puts her book down. “Something isn’t right” she whispers
“I know, it’s too quiet” I say, and there’s something different about this darkness, there’s an overwhelming sense of danger too it.
“Do you think we should get father?” I ask
“Of course not, we’re probably just being silly, and besides, he’s out.” Adding after a pause “But I think you’d better stay here, just to be safe”
“I think I’d better too” I reply thankfully