"Fall in love with someone who tastes like adventure but looks like the calm, beautiful morning after a terrible storm." Nikita Gill
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X.
After spending the remainder of her day scrubbing the entirety of the ship, with intermittent ginger tea breaks, Eliza sat down to supper, this time being waved over by the Irish brothers, Cian and Diarmuid.
They were served the same meal as the night before, but after a day of work, Eliza did not care. Cabbage had never tasted so good. She ate hungrily and prayed that she did not throw it all back up later on in the evening.
Eliza was introduced to another sailor, one who looked very similar in age to herself. He was young and handsome, with a strong, broad frame and dazzling blue eyes. He called himself Zacky, but Eliza had no indication if that was his real name, or something that he had adopted.
"How on earth does a boer like yourself end up on a ship like this, Eliza Lee?" asked Diarmuid curiously.
Eliza recalled that boer was meant to be a compliment. "Well, I have always read about pirate ships," she confessed, albeit a little bashfully. "I longed for an adventure aboard one."
Much to her chagrin, Cian, Diarmuid and Zacky all laughed heartily.
"Afraid you'll have to keep searching, miss," Zacky disclosed humorously. "For this is no pirate ship."
Eliza frowned. It wasn't? But they did not fly British colours. That was something that she had first noticed about the ship. They did not fly a British flag. She did not expect them to be marauders, but pirates certainly. Answering to no one, going where they pleased. Travelling to far off places like Jamaica!
"What sort of ship is this then?"
"Why, a merchant ship of course," Cian chided.
And Eliza suddenly felt very foolish. Of course, it was a merchant ship. Why had her mind immediately gone to the extreme? Pirate ships were probably fictitious nowadays, reserved only for her romantic novels.
"The Atlantis is owned by a rich Englishman in Kingston, Mr Richard Kerry. He controls the largest sugar plantation on the island. You have probably had Mr Kerry's sugar in your tea, Miss Banes," Zacky noted.
Eliza's first thought was that sugar was incredibly dull. But she had to remind herself that she was travelling to an exotic, foreign land, and this vessel was merely her means. Eliza had never much thought about where any of the foods that she used every day had come from. She certainly had no idea that her sugar had come all the way from Jamaica, and it was the job of men like these sailors to supply the public with it.
"But why do you not fly a British flag?" Eliza asked. "This ship is British, is it not?"
"There are still pirates, Eliza Lee," Cian warned. "Thieves, more like, who board and take what they want. They have no qualms with taking life, whereas our captain means only to preserve it. Where we are heading, a British flag can often be antagonistic to outlaws. It's best to appear neutral and help them on their way with as little fuss and harm as possible."
Cian's Irish drawl seemed to soften the seriousness of what he had just said. But Eliza was mesmerised, and not perhaps it a good way. Did that mean there was every likelihood of her encountering real pirates?
"It's a fine night," remarked Diarmuid. "How about a céilí?" His brother immediately nodded, and they both rose and walked away, heading towards the lower deck.
"What is a céilí?" Eliza asked Zacky.
Zacky merely smiled. "You will enjoy it," he assured her. "I am still curious, Miss Banes. What on earth would entice you to this life, when the one you have come from is, I am certain, much finer than this?"
"Well, yes, it is true. I have become accustomed to fine things." Very recently. She, of course, had not grown up with riches. She had always lived rather modestly compared to the extravagance of her life in Plymouth. "But I am afraid that I am unlike many other women with regards to my desires."
Eliza could have sworn that she saw Zacky's eyes momentarily darken. "Desires?" he repeated huskily, before quickly clearing his throat.
"I desire more than a life of social calls and charity baskets and church gossip," Eliza stressed. "My mother would have me married, as though it was all that I was meant to be. Someone's wife. It does not matter to whom, so long as he has valuable connections and a little money.
"My sister married very well, you see ..." Eliza trailed off as she thought of Katy. Oh, how Eliza knew Katy would be angry. Katy would be furious at her, more than ever before. Katy was always having to put up with Eliza. It was a wonder Katy never gave up on her, which was only reason for Eliza to adore her more.
But if anyone was going to understand why Eliza had slipped away as she did, it was Katy, no matter how angry she would be.
Eliza shut her mouth. She had only just met Zacky, and without even knowing his full name, she was divulging her familial troubles.
"Do you know what? It really is inconsequential. I am here for an adventure and let us leave it at that."
Cian and Diarmuid returned a few minutes later with their instruments. A violin, and a strange, circular guitar. Perhaps it was Irish? The men all seemed to converge once the instruments had been brought out, and the rum was being passed around generously.
Eliza even found herself with a cupful. The smell still turned her stomach, but she endeavoured to take a sip, and then another, and another.
Cian and Diarmuid began to play their instruments, and very well indeed. The music was fast and upbeat, with an infectious tempo that demanded dancing.
"Irish folk music," Zacky explained, leaning toward her.
The men were all clapping along, adding to the rhythm by drumming their hands on the crates on which they were sitting, or by stomping their feet.
Cian and Diarmuid looked like they were having the most jovial time as they moved with their instruments. Cian's bow moved over the fiddle effortlessly, and Diarmuid's fingers plucked at the strings of his round guitar as though they were their own entities.
Eliza kept drinking as she enjoyed the music, and she even found herself tapping her foot along.
"Would you dance with me, Miss Eliza Lee?" Zacky asked, rhyming playfully as he extended his hand.
"I am afraid I do not know this dance," she confessed. "I only know English dances."
Zacky chuckled. "Neither do I," he replied. "Come on, let us make it up as we go along," he urged, extending his hand further.
Maybe Eliza would blame making a fool of herself on the rum in the morning. She placed her hand in Zacky's and he enthusiastically pulled her to her feet. Zacky clasped her hand in his tightly and placed his other hand on her waist. She shook off her reservations and put her other hand on his shoulder. As soon as she was in position, Zacky began to eagerly lead her in circles, bouncing ever so lightly on his feet as they moved together to the fast, joyful music.
The energy made her laugh, and she felt pure delight and fun. She was quickly claimed by Jonesy, and soon after by Echo, and she was delighted to have such amusement with both sailors after their awkward punishment.
In between short intermissions in which she enjoyed another cupful or two of rum, Eliza danced with each and every sailor who had come to hear the Irish brothers play.
All except the first mate, Jackie, and, of course, the captain, who seemed to be watching them with sheer disapproval from the helm.
Eliza's woes were quickly forgotten as her mind became foggy. She enjoyed twirling and laughing and creating whatever dance steps she liked to the jolly tunes.
When the men eventually retired, the instruments put away, and the night watchmen had assumed their posts, Zacky pulled Eliza aside.
"Come along, Eliza Lee," he urged quietly. "Let me escort you to your quarters."
"I won't get lost," Eliza replied, a little shocked at how slurred her words had become.
Zacky chuckled. "Nevertheless." He began to guide Eliza towards the staircase that led up to where the helm and the captain's quarters resided. Eliza felt her eyes drooping as a sudden rush of fatigue washed over her. She was suddenly grateful for Zacky's arm.
Zacky stopped Eliza from tripping at least three times as he helped her up the stairs. Eliza felt the need to crawl, and Zacky kept her on her feet. As soon as she reached the top deck, Eliza, who was looking down, came to see a pair of dark, worn boots.
"Captain," Zacky suddenly remarked formally. Eliza felt him stiffen.
"Back to your station, sailor." His voice sounded like a blade, sharp and ruthless, spoken through clenched teeth. It was a command that needed to be obeyed.
Eliza was quickly abandoned, and she found herself falling to the floor, needing to walk on all fours.
Perhaps this would be a good place to sleep. Yes, Eliza decided. Her legs and arms were not going to move anymore.
She heard an exasperated sigh from above before the deck disappeared from beneath her. She had been lifted up and was now being held against the captain's chest as he carried her towards the cabin.
Not a minute later, she found herself being placed gently down on the bed. Oh, now this was a much better idea. Eliza could sleep wonderfully in here.
"Sleep well," she heard Captain Buckley murmur, "for the morning will not be pleasant. I will make sure of it."
***
Eliza awoke in shock as a bucket of icy cold seawater was poured over her head. Her eyes opened, and she cried out, gasping for air as the salty liquid soaked into everything she was wearing. She sat bolt upright in the bed as she wiped her eyes free from water.
As her vision cleared, she saw Captain Buckley holding the wooden pail, looking as disapproving as ever.
"What on earth do you think you are doing?" Eliza shouted.
"An old sailor's trick to wash off the drink ready for work," he snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. "You want to behave like a sailor, then you can be sobered like one."
Eliza threw back the bed clothes and got up from the bed. How she wished she were taller so that she could glare at him at eye level. "Does this mean that you have gone below deck and thrown a bucket of water over every single one of your men?" she challenged angrily. She shivered as water ran down her back.
"You were the only one unable to hold your drink last night," he seethed, "and you seem to have no awareness of the consequences."
"I was having fun!" Eliza protested. "As was everyone else!"
"Fun was it?" Captain Buckley scoffed, shaking his head in utter demeaning disapproval. "It was fun that I put a stop to? You did not know your foot from you elbow!"
Eliza frowned in confusion, but her anger quickly returned. "You could have joined us all, you know," she pointed out. "I do not know why you feel the need to walk around as though you have to be perpetually displeased with everything and everyone. Does that not exhaust you?" Eliza found herself desperate to provoke him. "Do you even know how to smile, Captain?" It was petty, she knew, but she never claimed to not be petty.
Eliza succeeded. Captain Buckley's eyes and nostrils flared as he irritated him to no end. "I cannot wait to leave you on the first floating vessel we see that is going to England."
Captain Buckley promptly left, seething and cursing under his breath, slamming the door behind him.
Eliza cried out, too, in utter frustration and impatience. Why? Why did she have to go and choose the ship with a captain who was so stiff and horrid that he might as well have had a pole up his ... well, she had managed to find the most unpleasant captain in the entire country.
Why was his like this? Why did he feel the need to show her complete contempt? Surely, he could not have always been this way. Nobody was born so hateful and unpleasant. Eliza truly wondered if there was ever a time when Captain Buckley had seen the world in a positive light.
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Hope you enjoyed it!
Sorry about the delay - back at work full time and sleeping when I'm not. I'm doing much better and I am so thankful for all your concern!!
If anyone is wanting to know what an Irish ceili sounds like, if you've seen Titanic, imagine the scene where Jack takes Rose to the party in third class. That's Irish folk music, so it's pretty much like that.
I also remember reading a comment somewhere querying why the sailors were being so nice to Eliza. Well, use your imaginations ...!! These men work for months at a time in their own company. Yes, women were bad luck, but the ship hasn't sunk and they've moved past it. She's a pretty young woman, and they are starved for female company.....
She is INCREDIBLY naive and is lucky to have someone watching out for her, even if she doesn't know it yet.
You will have a little insight into Tom's past in the next chapter, and you might understand a bit better as to why he is the way he is ... ;)
Alright, bed time. Night everyone xxx
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