and I started adding colourful touches.
My sweetheart and I were to be married as soon as he got his inheritance. Meanwhile my evil uncle was in hot pursuit. My wicked uncle had wanted to marry me off to his pervy best friend, but I was determined to marry my true love.
At last someone directed us to a boat called the Susannah. When we got there the Susannah turned out to be a full-sized sailing ship. Dirty and dilapidated, but way too grand for what we had in mind.
I was going to say we’d try somewhere else, when a sharp-eyed deckhand came dashing down the gangplank. “You the young mistress wants to hire a boat?”
Wow, news travels fast in Port Royal, I thought. The deckhand had obviously been told to look out for us! A minute later we were on board, talking to the captain!
I have to say Captain Plum didn’t exactly fit my picture of a sea captain. He was quite old and his clothes were greasy and grimy. There were icky bits of food in his beard and his eyes were red-rimmed from too much rum. As I told my story he made sympathetic noises in all the right places. When I’d finished, he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what this world was coming to.
“I can pay,” I said quickly. “My uncle didn’t take all my jewellery.”
The captain looked thoughtful. “We’re bound for Hispaniola on the next tide. We shall be sailing past the very landmark where your young man is waiting.”
I felt a prickle of excitement. “That’s fantastic! Does that mean you’ll take us!”
Captain Plum put his head on one side like a wise old bird. “Did I hear you say you had a little jewellery, young mistress? I’d gladly take you for free, but I’m not getting any younger and times are hard.”
I kept back a sweet little bracelet for emergencies, and poured the rest into the captain’s hands. This was such a cool way of doing business! Way more romantic than cash or credit cards.
It seemed like we’d only just found the Susannah in time. Bare minutes later, her rusty old anchor was hauled up dripping on to the deck. Her sails filled with a rush of wind and, with mighty creaks and groans, the battered old sailing vessel eased away from the waterfront.
As we sailed away from Port Royal, I couldn’t stop smiling. You’re nuts, I told myself. There is absolutely nothing to smile about. May I just remind you that we don’t actually have a map!
Could two angels find their way through the Black River Morass without a map? I had no idea. Could we track Brice down before he helped to plunder a sacred city and blew his final last chance of having a career as an angel? I didn’t know that either. All I knew was that my friend and I were a team again. We had made a plan and we had followed it through. Now we were on a seventeenth-century sailing ship watching pelicans fly home to their nests, or wherever pelicans sleep at nights. I was SO happy I started humming our Sisters theme tune. This is what Mariah means about being free, I thought. Life is so-o much more fun if you just go for it!
Lola and I watched the whole sunset from beginning to end, until the sun vanished into the sea in a final fabulous blaze of colour.
The ship sailed on through a deep blue dusk. I could see glittery trails of phosphorescence on the water. I became vaguely aware that the sweet greenhousey smells of Jamaica were fading. There were just smells of rope and tar and sea salt. Instead of hugging the Jamaican coastline, the Susannah was heading out to sea.
Lola looked bewildered. “What happen?”
“It’s fine,” I told her cheerfully. “The sailors are just trying to avoid rocks or something. They’ll correct their course in a few minutes.”
I heard stealthy creaking sounds. A man with a knife between his teeth swung himself up on deck, landing as softly as a cat.
Before we could raise the alarm, a dozen or so hard-faced men came swarming over the side. At the same moment, a galleon flying a sinister black flag loomed out of
My sweetheart and I were to be married as soon as he got his inheritance. Meanwhile my evil uncle was in hot pursuit. My wicked uncle had wanted to marry me off to his pervy best friend, but I was determined to marry my true love.
At last someone directed us to a boat called the Susannah. When we got there the Susannah turned out to be a full-sized sailing ship. Dirty and dilapidated, but way too grand for what we had in mind.
I was going to say we’d try somewhere else, when a sharp-eyed deckhand came dashing down the gangplank. “You the young mistress wants to hire a boat?”
Wow, news travels fast in Port Royal, I thought. The deckhand had obviously been told to look out for us! A minute later we were on board, talking to the captain!
I have to say Captain Plum didn’t exactly fit my picture of a sea captain. He was quite old and his clothes were greasy and grimy. There were icky bits of food in his beard and his eyes were red-rimmed from too much rum. As I told my story he made sympathetic noises in all the right places. When I’d finished, he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what this world was coming to.
“I can pay,” I said quickly. “My uncle didn’t take all my jewellery.”
The captain looked thoughtful. “We’re bound for Hispaniola on the next tide. We shall be sailing past the very landmark where your young man is waiting.”
I felt a prickle of excitement. “That’s fantastic! Does that mean you’ll take us!”
Captain Plum put his head on one side like a wise old bird. “Did I hear you say you had a little jewellery, young mistress? I’d gladly take you for free, but I’m not getting any younger and times are hard.”
I kept back a sweet little bracelet for emergencies, and poured the rest into the captain’s hands. This was such a cool way of doing business! Way more romantic than cash or credit cards.
It seemed like we’d only just found the Susannah in time. Bare minutes later, her rusty old anchor was hauled up dripping on to the deck. Her sails filled with a rush of wind and, with mighty creaks and groans, the battered old sailing vessel eased away from the waterfront.
As we sailed away from Port Royal, I couldn’t stop smiling. You’re nuts, I told myself. There is absolutely nothing to smile about. May I just remind you that we don’t actually have a map!
Could two angels find their way through the Black River Morass without a map? I had no idea. Could we track Brice down before he helped to plunder a sacred city and blew his final last chance of having a career as an angel? I didn’t know that either. All I knew was that my friend and I were a team again. We had made a plan and we had followed it through. Now we were on a seventeenth-century sailing ship watching pelicans fly home to their nests, or wherever pelicans sleep at nights. I was SO happy I started humming our Sisters theme tune. This is what Mariah means about being free, I thought. Life is so-o much more fun if you just go for it!
Lola and I watched the whole sunset from beginning to end, until the sun vanished into the sea in a final fabulous blaze of colour.
The ship sailed on through a deep blue dusk. I could see glittery trails of phosphorescence on the water. I became vaguely aware that the sweet greenhousey smells of Jamaica were fading. There were just smells of rope and tar and sea salt. Instead of hugging the Jamaican coastline, the Susannah was heading out to sea.
Lola looked bewildered. “What happen?”
“It’s fine,” I told her cheerfully. “The sailors are just trying to avoid rocks or something. They’ll correct their course in a few minutes.”
I heard stealthy creaking sounds. A man with a knife between his teeth swung himself up on deck, landing as softly as a cat.
Before we could raise the alarm, a dozen or so hard-faced men came swarming over the side. At the same moment, a galleon flying a sinister black flag loomed out of
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