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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Action/Adventure · #1136033
A story of an ordinary teenage boy thrust from his home into the unknown world of pirates
This is the first few chapters of the story, please leave comments, ratings etc., I really do appreciate them.



Higher Seas



The late evening sunset cast striking patterns on Jamie’s tanned figure, the orange light dispersing into every corner of the bland anonymous dormitory. Out of the first floor window he looked down upon the Glasgow cityscape and its busy inhabitants with an envious, almost loathing feeling inside.

An obviously rich businessman coasted up to the junction in his car, waited a few seconds, then accelerated away elegantly, his Lotus’s exhaust boasting loudly as if wanting everyone to know it’s effortless class. Jamie watched the man until he was out of sight, pondering how he himself would spend his riches when he was as successful as the businessman.

His arrogance told him he was intelligent and streetwise enough to make his dream life without much effort. In his mind a filthy rich, womanising, utopian future was owed to him by this city, and his parents for the raw deal he’s been dealt so far in his 15 year life. Who will he crush and leave with nothing? Who will be held responsible and made to pay for the hardship he had been put through? Those were the questions he looked forward to answering when he is an influential, powerful figure in just a few years time.

Jamie turned as the door knocked, his dark gel-coated hair quivering.
‘Yeah,’ he mumbled with an unexcited tone in his voice. An ageing obese woman called Martha entered carrying an assortment of almost washed bed linen.
‘Got ya sheets Jamie,’ her loud, screechy voice announced. ‘And I want these put on before you go to bed. Last time you left them standing over there where I left them for three days while you were still sleeping in them mucky old ones.’ She was ignored.
‘Oi!’ The silence continued as Jamie still didn‘t answer. ‘You are so rude. We work twenty-four bloody seven for you lot and what bloody fanks do we get, eh? Eh?!’
‘Do you?’ Replied Jamie, sincerely hoping the scratching voice would cease talking now he had answered her.
‘Yes. Yes we all do. Did you know Aggie has to miss out on her trips out with her club for you kids? And Jilly - Jilly got made chief neighbourhood watch officer in her street but she had to turn it down, because she spends her time slaving over ungrateful little rodents like you.’ Jamie tried to block out the noise continuing to attack his ears. Martha thrust the sheets down on his chest in a sort of mini-tantrum, but Jamie didn’t react at all. His dark brown eyes were still watching affairs outside.


‘People like you, Jamie Scheifield,’ (she always used people’s full names when she was having a rant at them, which was fairly often) ‘won’t get the important things in life - you won’t have a big house in the country with a nice car outside, y’know, one of them contervible ones with no roof, and enough money to go
bingo-ing once a week, no you won‘t. Those are the really important things you know.’ The noise protruding from her enormous mouth was reaching pneumatic drill proportions now.
‘You’ll be working in Tesco’s ‘til your old age you will, no doubt about it. Your just like our Darren - he was a rude and lazy little boy like you. Do you know where he is now? Bloody crook he is, down the market selling watches off the back of a blimmin’ lorry. He’ll get his comeuppance just you wait and see.’ Martha was rising up Jamie’s “Lives To Ruin When I’m Rich” list at an incredible rate.


Although the short silence indicated she finally seemed to have got bored of that conversation , she quickly proceeded with another bone to pick.
‘Oh, yeah. When are you going to visit your parents, Jamie?’
‘I’m not,’ was the short reply.
‘You’ve been here 2 months now and you haven’t even spoken to them once, you ‘aven’t. They’ll be getting worried you know.’
‘They won’t,’ he interjected, hoping even more than last time that she would drop the subject, but Martha carried on regardless.
‘You really should see them. Or phone them - if you’re a bit scared of visiting them in prison I’d understand, they’re not very nice places prisons aren’t. Yeah phone them Jamie they’d love to hear from you, it can’t be nice being behind bars.’ A look of disgust bored into her face and, for once, she actually saw it.
‘Look Jamie I know you don’t really want to talk to them, but think of what they did for you, all them years. Just remember you wouldn’t be on this Earth if it weren’t for them. Maybe I should give your Mum a ring, let her know you’re okay.’ Jamie erupted, yelling at her. It was like all the anger that had built up over the last 8 weeks surged out of his throat and attacked Martha without warning.
‘No! DON’T ring her! They’ve never done anything for me! They’re both scum! They don’t deserve to talk to me! They’ve put me here and I wouldn’t be in this shit-hole if it weren’t for them! And I’m not scared of talking to them I just don’t want to. I never will want to.’ Martha was completely shocked.
‘But…but Jamie, they’re your parents,’ Her voice was a lot more timid than before the torrent of abuse. ‘I think you should always stay on good terms with your parents. You never know what could…’
Jamie interrupted: ‘I don’t give a toss what you think you fat old bitch! Nobody gives a toss what you think - you’re a 60 year old virgin for God’s sake! You’ve lived in a kids foster home for 25 years and you only ever leave to go to bingo once a week. You wear shower curtains as dresses. What the hell makes you think I would take advice from you, or anybody in this place? You are nothing.’
The tirade over, Martha tenderly left the sheets where they are and made for the door, humiliated and dejected. She looked back at Jamie.
‘I did have sex once you know. I was 31. It was quite good.’ The renewed scowl from Jamie that followed was her cue to leave, which she did, the end of her enormous backside following a few seconds later.


For an hour Jamie lay his head on his pillow after that onslaught. Inside his handsome head his mind ticked over travelling from thoughts to memories, from regrets to dreams. He thought about his past - what had his parents done to get themselves locked away? What reason did they have for not telling him what they had done? Why had they committed the crime? Had they really done it at all? Jamie told himself it didn’t matter; it was all in the past. He had moved on and resolved to try to forget his parents. But again his mind wandered. Why didn’t they let him live with other relatives? A new life with his uncle in Newcastle would have been fantastic, although perhaps a little impractical - Uncle Ally was a bit of a tearaway to say the least. He even for a moment contemplated Martha’s advice to at least ring his parents, but immediately stowed that ridiculous suggestion into the back of his mind. His chain of thoughts was abruptly ended by the commotion outside, two men arguing loudly about directions. One had a Glaswegian accent, the other was a more irate lout with a cockney voice. Jamie, annoyed at the interruption, reached a slender arm out to shut the window and laid back down as comfortable as is possible on a Glasgow Social Services supplied bed.
He was still half-asleep, when for the first time since his huge upheaval his mind settled on thinking about his future - not in the cocky manner he had before, but in a more realistic mindset. Somehow a high temper slanging match with an over-the-hill invalid had injected some sort of sense into his mind. Maybe Martha was right, maybe he might have to put some sort of effort into getting what he wanted in life. After all his ‘can’t be arsed’ attitude hadn’t worked so far - stuck in a council foster home, no family even in contact with him, and missing his friends on the other side of Glasgow. Jamie knew he had everything needed to make himself powerful and loaded - intelligence and good looks were always going to be his, but seeing as his lack of effort had so far got him in a worse position every time he looked at himself in the mirror, maybe a small amount of work was all that was left for him to do. Don’t get me wrong - he was by no means a reformed character, still a cocky, arrogant bum by anyone’s standards, but at least he had half a foot in the real world.

Ten minutes later, when the dormitory was just about submerged in the almost-bright blackness of night, Jamie was all but asleep. Nothing stirred, even the horribly red curtains shielding the room from the bustling street outside were unmoving. Then a sharp tap-tap on the window forced him to spring, wide eyed in surprise, back into life. Tap-tap-tap again, like jewellery against a thin pane of glass. Slightly unsure whether he really wanted to know who or what was knocking, he apprehensively drew the curtains.


Chapter 2


Looking through the first floor window Jamie could see a ladder - not a modern aluminium ladder - one more at home up a Victorian chimney, cracked and woodworm-eaten. Standing at the top, looking away from Jamie, down towards the ground, was a man. Like the ladder, he didn’t exactly look at home in Glasgow city centre. Although Jamie couldn’t see his face, what he could see was a slenderly built man with a head of shoulder length, black hair. Clean, but not particularly orderly. It was at this point that Jamie realised a stranger, probably some homeless waster, was standing on a ladder banging on a teenage boy’s room’s window - not an especially good situation. But he was curious and couldn’t go to bed leaving the situation as it was. The man turned to look back at the window and, as soon as he saw Jamie, jolted in shock. He turned again.
“Yep, we got him Gord,” he called down to someone on the street below.
“Good. Get him out and we can go,” the man at the bottom of the ladder replied impatiently. Hearing their voices Jamie realised these two people apparently trying to take him away were the same two arguing about directions outside a short while earlier.
“Alright Jamie?” He called through the thin window separating them. How did he know his name?
“Who the hell are you? What are you trying to do?” Jamie enquired, still astounded.
“I’m Ally.” Jamie’s face lit up, much like a child seeing his presents on Christmas morning. “I came to get you out of this shithole, mate,” his Glaswegian accent echoing through the glass. He motioned to Jamie to open the window, which he did, excitement surging around his head. His uncle was taking him away from this place! The window open, Jamie could see Ally much more clearly now. But he was so different to how he remembered him. Jamie hadn’t seen his uncle in about 4 years but he was still barely recognisable. He was unshaven with a small goatee but that wasn’t it, there was definitely something else different about him.
“You coming then?” Jamie had never heard a more ridiculous question.
“Course I’m coming, you think I’d rather stay in here than come with you?” There was a slight look of surprise on Ally’s face at the certainty of the answer but he brushed that thought aside and helped Jamie onto the ladder. He was at the bottom with Ally and the other man (presumably a mate who came to help him) in a few seconds, such was the adrenalin rushing through him. Then, when he looked at Ally and his mate properly for the first time he realised the clothes they were wearing. Ally had a dirty-white shirt underneath a sort of thick, light brown, suede waistcoat and an animal’s tooth on a chain around his neck. He had black scuffed jeans on, if you could call them that. They looked like he’d stitched them himself. The other man was wearing slightly more orthodox clothes - an extremely greasy t-shirt with a multitude of stains on it, with what looked like a pair of extra thick long johns on as trousers. Surely that wasn’t the style in Newcastle?
“We going back to your place in Newcastle now?” Jamie asked, still bemused at the pair’s choice of clothes.
“Nope,” came Ally’s short reply. He was walking at an extremely fast pace, Jamie almost jogging to keep up.
“You living somewhere else now then?”
“You could say that, yeah.”
“Well where?”
“I’ll show you,” Ally said impatiently.
“Is it in Glasgow?” Jamie could see his constant questioning was getting on Ally’s nerves, but he continued anyway. He had a right to know where his uncle was taking him.
“Come on, where is it? You’ve got to tell me sooner or later.”
“You don’t half ask a lot of questions,” said the cockney man with Ally. He was short, with a pot-belly, with greasy, grey hair bordering his incredibly ugly face. As soon as Jamie caught sight of his face one word entered his head: troll. Jamie was quite taken aback by his abrupt rudeness.
“And who the hell are you?” Jamie asked the other man, who completely ignored him. The two adults started their own conversation.
“What was old Graystan thinking, letting that nutter Finlay in my galley? I’ve been shedding blood, sweat and tears in that galley for 30 odd years, and some poncy looney jumps in the sea and suddenly I’m bloody ‘assistant’.” The other man moaned.
“Awww, poor Gordon” said Ally, mocking him a fake sympathetic voice. At least now Jamie finally knew the other man’s name.
“Shut it. Imagine if some bloke Graystan found washed up at the bottom of some cliff came in and took your place as a captain, you wouldn’t be so bloody smug then would you,” Gordon’s moaning continued. “And anyway, its not like I’m a bad cook.” Ally sniggered.
“Nah, you’ve only killed four, Gordon,” came the sarcastic reply.
“Who’s Graystan? And Finlay?” Jamie asked his uncle, but they continued, completely ignoring him.
“Stupid foolish git, that Graystan. Past it, he is. One day he’ll be the downfall of us lot, just you wait and see. Retire to land, ha! What a good idea that is, be like the durfies. Stupid old man.” This sort of moaning caused Jamie to think Gordon and Martha were related.
“What are durfies?” Jamie questioned them both. He was really starting to wonder what was going on at this point.
“Shut up Gordon. Graystan’s the best there is, and you know it. The only reason you don’t like him is because he’s respected, and you’re not. Plus we voted to go and retire and if you don’t like it piss off and find another crew to moan at.” Gordon looked disgruntled which made him look even more like a troll.
“Can someone please tell me where we’re going and who this Graystan bloke is,” said Jamie, almost shouting in frustration now, but they continued walking at the same fast pace, not even acknowledging him. Jamie ran in front of them to stop them going any further until his questions were answered. Ally looked him straight in the eye and said firmly:
“I’m not telling you anything until we’re back.” The two of them pushed past Jamie and carried on walking leaving him standing, watching after them.
“You came to get me out of the foster home, then won’t talk to me,” he shouted at their backs. “You’re my uncle and you still won’t tell me what’s going on.” On hearing the word ‘uncle’ both swivelled around and stared at Jamie, Ally bewildered and Gordon in plain shock.
“What did you say?” Asked Ally.
“Is he your niece?” Gordon said to Ally, with a confused frown on his face.
Jamie started, “I said ‘you won’t tell me what’s going on’.”
“No, before that. Did you say I was your uncle?” Ally said with some anxiety.
“Yeah,” Jamie replied slowly, wondering where this conversation was going.
“You got me mixed up mate, I ain’t no uncle of yours‘.”
Jamie now wore the same confused frown Gordon still sported.
“But…you’re called Ally…and you know my name. So you’re my uncle. Uncle Ally from Newcastle.”
“No,” he replied, trying to restore some sort of sense. “I’m not Ally as in
A-L-L-Y. I’m Ali, as in A-L-I. And I’m definitely not your uncle.”
Jamie was speechless. Come to think of it, his mind deserted him too for a few seconds. This bloke who was taking him away from his home was a complete stranger. Then a thought came to him.
“You must be my uncle - you knew my name…and knew where I was. If you’re not my uncle, why did you come especially looking for me?”
Then Gordon, who Jamie almost forgot was here, spelled it out to him,
“Look son, Ali isn’t your uncle. You just got him mixed up with someone else. Now if you don’t mind, we’ve got to be somewhere.”
“Where?!” Jamie persisted.
“I’ve told you enough times, you’ll see when you frickin’ well get there!” Ali said with a raised voice.
Jamie was fed up with being left in the cold.
“I don’t know either of you, and you’re taking me somewhere, but won’t tell me where.”
“What’s your point, little boy,” said Gordon patronisingly. Jamie stopped walking.
“Either tell me where you arseholes are taking me now or forget about me coming altogether.” The ultimatum was laid down.
The two men looked at each other, Ali nodded in Jamie’s direction and they both turned and started walking towards him. Maybe Jamie’s persistence had pushed them a bit too far. Were these two blokes going to beat him up? It wouldn’t surprise him, they could be anyone, and that thought made Jamie wonder why he hadn’t returned to the foster home the moment he realised Ali wasn’t his uncle. They bared down on him quickly, with the worst possible thoughts cursing through Jamie’s head. They reached him. Ali raised a hand. Jamie shut his eyes. Then he felt his feet sweep off the floor and into Gordon’s arms, Ali held Jamie’s torso with his hands under his armpits and they carried him with ease along the Glasgow street. Were they going to throw him in front of a car?
“Erm…what are you doing?” Jamie asked tentatively, dreading the answer.
“Didn’t leave us with a lot of choice did you?” Gordon said, still more patronising than before. “The stubborn little boy didn’t do as he was told so we will make him do it.”
“In other words, you wouldn’t walk so we’ll carry you instead.” Ali told him.
Jamie started pushing at Ali and Gordon, trying to prise their tough grip open. It was all in vain, so Jamie resorted to punching Ali’s arms and kicking out at Gordon, trying to get them off.
“That’s not going to work, it’ll take more than that to make us drop you,” Ali told him, and Jamie knew he was right.
“Get off me! GET OFF!” He yelled. If two men in seemingly medieval dress carrying a teenage boy down a Glasgow street didn’t get much attention, then the two of them carrying a screaming teenage boy down a Glasgow street certainly did get a few curious stares.
“Shut it, before I make you shut it,” Ali threatened, and Jamie gave up and let them carry him to his mystery destination.

After five more minutes the tense silence was broken, and Jamie was relieved when told the destination was just around the corner.
“What are we doing in the docks? Nobody’s worked here for decades?” He asked, immediately after wondering if the lack of potential witnesses was the reason for him being taken here. But all his questions, as well as the pain of Ali’s fingers digging into his armpits, were completely expelled from his mind by the sight on the other side of the last anonymous iron shack they were to journey past.


Chapter 3


It was so out of place in a decrepit slum of an abandoned inner-city port. It sat in between two grey rust encrusted barges, and had algae infested water washing up, as if trying to ruin the splendour of its wonderful features. Beautifully carved wood panels lining its perimeter, and a magnificent mast reaching a hundred feet into the clouds. Huge sails like vertically hanging seas of white above a deck expanding an acre each side of the mast centrepiece, dark green wispy vines hanging from the length of it. And the feature that really made it awe-inspiring - in the almost pitch black on each side were two colossal flame torches licking twenty feet up in the frosty night air, showing off the beautiful ship in all its immense glory.
“An old houseboat,” said Jamie, insulting the class in front of him. “Why the hell would you want to live on a shitty houseboat? And more importantly what am I supposed to be doing here?”
“Arrogant little bastard aren’t you,” remarked Gordon correctly. Standing in front of them was a thing of incredible prestige and all Jamie did was pass it off as nothing.
“Just get him inside Gordon,” commanded Ali. Jamie was ushered up a rather unnerving rope ladder, onto the deck and through a small door, into the interior of the ship. There were several staircases leading downwards in different directions. The inside was quite astonishing, but not in the same way as the exterior - it was run-down and shabby in a stark contrast. The outside looked like a masterpiece created by Gods, but you would be forgiven for thinking the interior was bodged as a budding infant school woodwork project. Jamie was led through the cobwebbed labyrinth of crooked corridors and rickety hallways and until he reached a reasonably large room. Inside was a collection of hastily built furniture and odd framed newspaper cuttings and pictures, but one pristinely carved piece stood out from the rest, like J-Lo in a bingo hall on over 60s night. It was an beautiful, enormous mahogany writing desk with a neatly made king sized bed attached at one end. They walked in and Ali signalled to the two of them to pull up one of the dog-eared chairs shoved in the corner, him and Gordon sitting opposite Jamie. The poor state of the chairs slightly ruined the grandeur of the table. Looking around he could see the name ‘Ali’ scratched hastily into most of the furniture, like a school desk victim of a particularly mischievous boy armed with a compass, but on the large writing desk the same name was masterfully engraved in calligraphy, evidently by a true expert.
“What is this place then? Some sort of museum? And how come I’ve never heard about it?” Enquired Jamie, unsurprisingly confused.
“It’s a boat,” was Gordon’s sarcastic reply.
“Oh!” Jamie gasped cuttingly, glaring. “I thought this was a giant medieval moped!”
“Alright, alright. I’ll take it from here Gordon if you don’t mind.”
“Actually I do mind!” Whined Gordon.
“No, wrong answer Gordon,” said Ali firmly. “You would love to be quiet and let me get on with it so that this takes no longer than it has to.” It was quite amusing how Gordon sank down in his chair and sulked for a while.
“Right,” started Ali. “This is a ship, built around a hundred years ago by one of the most prominent and respected families in the pirate world.”
“So you bought it off eBay then did you?” Asked Jamie, who was intentionally trying to wind Ali up.
“No we did not buy this ship. I don’t have a clue what this ‘eBay’ you’re talking about is so I’m going to completely ignore that. I want to get this over with. Pirates don’t buy their homes, when the Chief Captain dies the ship gets handed to one of the two other captains, at which point the ship then becomes theirs.”
“I don‘t care about pirate history, I‘m not at school. How did you get this thing?” Jamie interrupted.
“Well I don’t actually have it yet, it’s not mine.” Ali said.
“Why not? Did the cheque bounce?” This attempt at humour by Jamie was in vain as Ali seemed not to know what a cheque was.
“No. Nothing bounced,” Ali said with a bewildered frown on his face. “This ship isn’t mine because it hasn’t been handed to me. That will only happen when the Chief Captain dies.” Jamie was completely confused.
“But that only happened with pirates, you just said.”
“Yes, that happens in the pirate world, which is why the ship isn’t mine yet.”
“The way you’re talking it sounds like you still live like pirates did,” said Jamie.
“That’s right. Jamie, I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to tell you.”
“Too right I don’t,” Jamie told Ali.
“The reason we, as in everyone on this ship, live as pirates is because we are just that Jamie - pirates. Gordon, myself and every person on this ship is a pirate.”
Then Jamie replied. “Ha ha, very good, you have fun and enjoy your little fantasy mate. If you wanna be a pirate then you be a pirate. But me, I’m going to go home now and leave you to your little games. I’ve heard doctors and nurses can be quite fun too. Now if you don’t mind, I‘ll see you around.” He started for the door, but almost instantly Ali and Gordon jumped to block the exit.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Gordon told him. Jamie needed to get off this ship and, before he even considered himself, he raised a fist ready bury itself in Gordon’s mouth. He swung with as much force he could muster. But it was inches from his face when his arm was stopped in air and thrust behind his behind is back. Ali was far too quick for anything like that to work, it seemed.
“We tried to sit you down and do this Graystan’s way but that just isn’t working, so we’ll let him do it himself in the morning.” Then an idea swam into Jamie’s head. The words ‘In the morning’ - this had to be a dream, their couldn’t be any other way. He was falling asleep in his dormitory when all this happened, so that was the only possible explanation. He was sure to wake up in Glasgow foster home in a few minutes. Jamie relaxed somewhat this thought and allowed Ali to bustle him through more doorways, passing more rather eccentrically dressed ’pirates’ who, strangely, all enthusiastically said ‘hello’ to Ali, while barely acknowledging Gordon. They eventually arrived at a particularly oddly shaped door with ‘Jamie’ inscribed on the door, in the same haphazard fashion as most of the furniture in Ali’s room. Inside was, again similarly to Ali’s, room a multitude of furniture styles, although all were poorly made.
“Someone will be in for you in the morning,” Ali told him while ensuring the tiny window was shut sufficiently to prevent an attempted escape.
“Yep, fine.” Jamie said, unusually excited about returning to his dormitory in the morning. Ali, who was slightly thrown by Jamie’s sudden calmness shot back a suspicious glance then shut the door in relief.
Jamie collapsed exhausted onto the surprisingly comfortable bed chuckling to himself at his gullible belief of tonight’s dream being reality. He took a fleeting look around the room, seeing the strange objects and furniture through his dark brown eyes, then laid his head down on the plump cotton pillow looking forward to waking again in the real world.





Chapter 4


Jamie turned in his bed. The room was now drowned in daylight and he was incredibly reluctant to leave the lovely cold comforting feeling the sheets gave him, so kept his eyes shut hoping to go back to sleep. He lay there in the blissfully happy comfort that always followed waking up and realising it’s Saturday. Five minutes later there was a soft knocking on his door.
“Yep,” he called. The door opened slowly and her head peered around the door.
“Do you want to get up now, Jamie? Someone wants to see you.”
Jamie was quite surprised at Martha’s cheeriness after the abuse he had hurled at her before he went to sleep. He opened his eyes, but immediately closed them again to prevent the sunlight from impeding his eyes. The door was closed to allow him to get up and dressed in peace but seconds later she called through to him again.
“Did Ali tell you everything last night, Jay?” Since when did Martha call him Jay? He sniggered as he wondered if she Martha was trying to be less rejected by society by calling him Jay. Jamie’s eyes sprang wide in surprise. He realised she just said Ali, and like floodgates being opened in the back of his mind memories of last night’s dream gushed into his head. How did she know about his dream? Then his eyes adjusted to focus on the room in front of him - this wasn’t his dormitory - it was the room in his dream. The rickety furniture with ‘Jamie’ scratched in the surfaces, misspelled in some cases, and a small but soft bed in which he was sitting. Everything drained from his thoughts leaving just one terrible dread: Last night wasn’t a dream.
“Are you there Jamie?” Martha called through the door again, reminding him of her presence. But it sounded less familiar this time - just as irritating as before but somehow different. He ran to the door with a panicky urgency in his steps. He pulled the door open and outside were two things, the most noticeable being a searing stench of tobacco smoke, and, just as sore on the senses, another fat woman who on the most part couldn’t look more similar to Martha.
“Allo mate!” She said with a coarse, twangy tone, which reminded Jamie very much of Paul O’Grady.
“Erm, who are you?” He spluttered, the excruciating amount of smoke causing stinging tears to form in his eyes.
“Filly. Filly-Five-Fags to give my full name.” There were a few words that came to mind when she said this but shock wasn’t one of them.
“Right…erm…am I still on that big ship?”
“Yeah you are Jay. And the ships called Jess.”
“The ship has a name?” Asked Jamie.
“Yeah course it does. She’ll have a name as long as I ‘av a hole in my arse,” she replied with a crude smile.
“Right,” he sighed with exasperation. “And…erm…can you not call me Jamie?”
“Okily-dokily Jimbo.”
“Not Jimbo either. My name’s Jamie.” Filly’s face sank like a kid who’s just dropped his drumstick lolly.
“Ok, er, Jamie, you wanna go and see Graystan now?” He remembered hearing the name mentioned during the conversation between Gordon and Ali last night. She started leading him somewhere, presumably to this ‘Graystan’ person.
“Who’s Graystan?”
“He’s the big boss around here, Chief Cap’n is,” Filly informed him. Jamie wondered if he was someone who could possibly get him off this ship and let him go home. Filly seemed determined to get conversation between her and Jamie.
“Been a lot of goings on here these last two days,” her voice rang out. “Nothing compared to what’s gonna happen on our next journey though. You’re quite lucky to be going with us you know Jamie.” He had so many questions, and really wanted to know exactly what he had been forced into, but saved his concerns for the Chief Captain, hoping he would be more sensible, and less downright stupid than Filly.
“Oh, right.”
“You’ve met Ali then have you?” She continued to try to force communication.
“Yeah, last night.”
“He’s great he is, we’re lucky to have him, one of the best pirates around, Ali is,” she said. Jamie couldn’t help but wonder how the other pirates could be much worse. Then Filly mentioned Gordon and his thought was immediately answered.
“Slimy grease ball Gordon is. You want to keep away from him.”
“Ok I’ll try,” Jamie replied.
“Here we are, Graystan’s cabin.”
Filly opened the large oak door for Jamie and he immediately noticed the striking difference between this room and all the others he had encountered so far. This was the only room he had seen that remotely resembled the outside of the ship. Inside there were enormous gold-framed portraits and bronze and silver ornaments, and all the furniture was in the same stunning style as the writing desk in Ali’s cabin. In the back of the massive room was an extraordinary dark wood cabinet with a huge diamond encrusted on the top amidst intricate details. Inside was a large tapestry with strange pictures on it, and a 2 metre long model of what looked like the ship Jamie was in right now. Perching on the top of the cabinet of a live, glorious golden eagle, staring piercingly straight in Jamie’s face. Jamie looked to the left hand-side of the room, where there was an old man, probably around 60 years, with a warm smile on his face.
“I believe you might be Jamie,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m Jamie.”
“Good. Filly, if you don’t mind, I’d rather do the initiation with Jamie myself, thank you.”
She left immediately, leaving just Jamie and Graystan.
“Right,” Graystan started, but he was interrupted.
“I want to go home. Ali told me everything and I don’t want to be part of your fantasy game thing of playing pirates. So, as apparently you’re the boss here, I want you to let me leave,” Jamie informed him, as firmly as he could. A grin expanded across Graystan’s once-handsome face, which was a reaction that took Jamie by surprise.
“Yes, Orsalo said you might require a certain amount of diplomacy,” he mumbled to himself, chuckling.
“Ok Jamie, I’m here to explain exactly the happenings last night, as well as give you some idea of the path ahead for you in the near future.”
“Well…” Jamie tried to continue but Graystan held a long-fingered hand up, indicating Jamie to stop.
“And I very much wish not to be interrupted. Old people like myself tend to lose the flow of the conversation remarkably easily,” he said with a smile. “This ship in which you are sitting right now is a pirate ship. My pirate ship to be exact and she’s called Jess. Everyone on board Jess and everyone who knows about Jess are pirates. Myself, Filly, Ali and Gordon, whom you met last night, are all pirates. There is a whole society of us all throughout the world - thousands of us, and we also have a governing body, much like the Prime Minister with his Government in your homeland.”
Jamie’s head was swimming with this information.
“So there’s loads of people around the world like you?”
“Exactly.”
“Well how come I’ve never heard about you before?” Jamie asked.
“There is a very sophisticated operation in place encompassing all pirates to keep or society out of the knowledge of the durfies.”
A look of extreme puzzlement riddled Jamie’s face.
“Sorry, I should have mentioned, ‘durfies’ is the pirates’ term for those living on land,” Graystan advised him.
“So people like me, right?”
“Ah-hah, that’s what I was coming to next, Jamie. You may have noticed there aren’t too many women on pirate ships. So, naturally we don’t get many new crew member’s in the usual human way of creating new people, if you know what I mean. Our solution is to recruit new cabin boys and girls, usually in their mid-teens like yourself to join our world and to train to eventually become fully fledged pirates like the ones you have met here so far. In a nutshell, today you start training to eventually become a captain, and you will stay a pirate for the rest of your life.”
“And why did you choose me to become a new pirate?” Jamie queried.
“We liaise with our Governing Body, which is called PUBES (Pirates’ Union Body for England and Scotland), to decide on the two or three new recruits. They tend to prefer people like you, who - no offence meant - won’t be missed. You have no family in contact with you, I believe, which is a particularly good reason for you to be taken on. It arouses less suspicion and means our world is less likely to be revealed to the Durfies.”
“However,” he continued, his green eyes fixed on Jamie from underneath his rapidly thinning white hair. “The voyage we undertake on departure from Glasgow is a truly special one. Usually a ship and its crew will travel for many years, only stopping to recruit new cabin boys and girls or to port into the PUBES headquarters on the Isles of Scilly. But this will be the last ever voyage for Jess and every crew member here. From here we will pick up our second recruit - a 15 year old girl I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear - and then head directly to an island in the Pacific - which is completely unknown to all Durfies, where we shall retire. That island will be the home of our whole crew for the rest of our lives. If everything goes to plan, that is. This is Jess’s retirement, if you like.” Jamie was not quite sure what it was about Graystan, but he seemed to have an extremely calming, warming and honest aura about him. Everything told to him by Ali and Gordon the night before seemed to make so much more sense when said in Graystan’s deep, grainy voice. They were all pirates and Jamie was another addition, chosen by the Governing body (oddly named as it was) to be a future generation’s captain. Then a thought came to Jamie:
“If the ship is retiring and you’re going to live on land then surely you don’t need any more captains. So what’s the point in getting more cabin boys?”
Graystan’s deep eyes looked at Jamie as if pleased he had asked that question.
“Well we officially aren’t allowed to retire. Everyone at the PUBES is completely oblivious to all our plans, except for my good friend Orsalo. Orsalo is helping cover up our retirement so it will hopefully go without a hitch. You and the other cabin girl are needed so as to not arouse suspicion. You see, it would be incredibly odd if we stopped in Glasgow and didn’t pick any recruits up. Plus I don’t like to break traditions, and new cabin boys and girls every so often is a very big tradition in the pirate world. In fact, Orsalo was very good to me in hand-picking two of the best people around to be our new recruits. You and the cabin girl, called Mel, were specifically chosen by Orsalo as the best two selections out of many thousands of potentials. I asked for two good new pirates because, being the youngest, you two are likely to be the last surviving of Jess’s crew members. Apparently you two were the best for the job.” Graystan added with a cheerful smile on his wrinkled face. He read the deep-thinking frown Jamie was wearing.

“I understand it’s a lot to take in. After all your entire life has been placed in front of you in the last eleven minutes. Is there anything you want to ask me?”
“You’re the captain on this ship aren’t you?” Jamie responded.
“We have three captains: Ali, Vincent and myself. I am the chief captain and together the three of us are basically in charge of the ship. The only perks of being Chief Captain as opposed to the other two captains is that Jess belongs to me and that I get the posh cabin - although this room’s official name is ‘Lirage’. The chief captain’s cabin is always called a Lirage.” he said looking proudly around at his majestic room. “Well, I did say that the captains decide everything on board Jess, but the huge decision of retiring the ship to land was put forward by myself to the entire crew, and we approved it through a ballot including everyone. All except two agreed to my proposal.”
“Who disagreed?” Questioned Jamie.
“Vincent, the third captain, and Gordon,” Graystan smiled.
“Oh, right,” said Jamie, still slightly astounded by everything said to him this morning. “I got another question. How many crew are there on here?”
“Twelve, plus you and Mel when we pick her up tomorrow, means we will have fourteen to take to the Pacific.”
“Ok, and how long will it take to get to the island?”
“About three weeks to a month, depending on the weather. I’m going to ask you a question now Jamie, and I’d very much like you to give me a fully honest answer,” he said fixed directly onto Jamie’s eyes. “How do you feel now about everything you’ve heard?”
Jamie thought for a moment. How did he feel? He’d been so busy trying to digest the shock information he’d received he hadn’t stopped to assess the emotions billowing around his brain.

“Erm…well I’m a bit surprised to be honest,” was the obvious answer. “And I suppose I would have been a lot happier about it if I had a choice, and if I hadn’t been carried here by Ali and Gordon and locked in a cramped cabin for a night without either any food or explanation.”
Graystan chuckled to himself.
“Yes,” he said. “Ali is an excellent pirate - second in command here - but perhaps his diplomacy skills aren’t quite up to the standard of mine just yet.”
Jamie continued.
“I am sort of glad to be away from the foster home but becoming a pirate wasn’t really what I was hoping for. So no, I’m not happy to be here and I want to leave. But there isn’t much chance of that so I’ll have to put up with won’t I.”
There, it was said.
“Yes, I’m afraid you will. You have no choice but to stay on this ship, Jamie. But believe me, almost every pirate I have welcomed onto Jess has become used to life very quickly, all are happy and the majority are now fantastic pirates,” he reassured with a comforting smile. Jamie nodded, unsure whether he really felt any better after being clarified.

The door creaked open and Filly edged her head, together with the five cigarettes protruding from her mouth, timidly around the door.
“Erm, Graystan,” she said, much quieter than when she was talking to Jamie. “Any chance of Jamie helping us out with breakfast when you’re finished with the initiation?”
It was amazing how she had learned to talk so clearly with five fags held by her lips.
“No Fillianommery,” no surprise she likes to be called Filly, Jamie thought. “I have other plans for Jamie this morning. However, he will be available for work after lunch.”
Jamie didn’t like the sound of the word ‘work’ at first but the longer he pondered over it the more he regarded it a better proposition than a stuffy regimented classroom.
“Ok Graystan, no problem,” Filly said. Her response and her reluctance to ask him to call her ‘Filly’ immediately showed Jamie Graystan’s character. He was incredibly respected even by a brash beast like Filly-Five-Fags, and gave you the feeling he had been a chief captain forever, like the stalwart of the ship, even older than the Lirage that was his.

As she gingerly left them in the magnificent cabin Jamie was wondering what plans Graystan had in mind. His questions were answered instantly when Ali stepped inside.
“Ah, Ali,” Graystan greeted him.
“You alright Graystan?”
“Yes thanks Ali. I’d like you to show Jamie around Jess now. I’d like him to learn his way around so he’ll feel at home as quickly as possible,” he said, beaming at Jamie.
Ali motioned to Jamie to follow him outside.

Once outside Ali strode forward through the old corridors and Jamie decided he was meant to follow. He jogged to catch up.
“Where are we going first?” Jamie asked Ali
“Nowhere in particular, just whatever we come to first. I‘ve got to introduce you to the rest of the crew as well.”
Jamie got the distinct feeling that this was a job Ali didn’t want to be doing. They continued through the labyrinth-like interior of Jess, every now and then Ali would murmur something like “Filly’s cabin”, “Victor’s stores”, “Navigation room”. Jamie broke the awkward silence when he asked,
“Do many pirates get brought in when they’re my age?”
“Most of them, yeah.”
“Did Graystan?” Jamie continued.
“Things were different when he was young,” Ali sighed, looking annoyed at being pestered.
The two of them continued, going down below deck, back up again, outside on deck; it was all a blur of cracked timber and cobwebs to Jamie. He was shown various work stations around Jess and was quite astounded by the array of modern objects he didn’t expect to find on a pirate ship. Eventually, after a tedious, repetitive look around they arrived at the kitchen.
“Kitchen,” Ali told him. “This is Gordon’s place, but he’s a crap cook. I’m getting my breakfast now, before most of them arrive. You might as well have some as well.”
“Ok.”
They walked up to Gordon who was looking even more repulsive than when Jamie saw him the night before. He wore the same horribly tight white t-shirt with stains darkening it in patches - Jamie couldn’t tell whether it was sweat or grease and decided not to think about it much more, especially just before eating. Jamie looked at his plate and instead of seeing bacon and eggs drowned in grease he saw perfectly served sushi and sauté potatoes. It couldn’t be more different to the ogre-like man serving it, and Jamie wondered how Ali could say Gordon was a bad cook on seeing what was dished up for them, although it was a rather unorthodox breakfast. A voice with an acute Scottish Highlands accent called from out of sight behind Gordon.
“You better be presenting that properly Gordon, I expect very high standards from my new assistant.”
On seeing Gordon’s expression go from trollish to troll who’s just swallowed wasp infested dog shit Jamie struggled to stifle a laugh. He also saw Ali doing the same only less successfully. The two of them caught each other’s eyes and they took a seat quickly before one of them laughed in his face.
“Gordon’s a complete twat,” Jamie laughed, sitting opposite Ali in the deserted canteen. An amused grin spread across Ali’s face.
“You’re a good judge of character mate,” he agreed, chuckling. That one comment from Jamie instantly broke the apparent dislike directed at him by Ali. “Yeah, nobody likes him on Jess. Just like Vincent, the other captain. Have you met him yet?”
“Nah,” Jamie replied.
“The longer you don’t know him, the better.”
“Is he really that bad?”
“Yeah, you don’t want much to do with him. You should keep well away,” Ali advised him.
“What’s so bad about him? Surely he can’t be that bad or Graystan wouldn’t have made him a captain.”
“Trust me Jamie, he can’t be trusted. Graystan is a fantastic pirate, one of the best in the world, but he’s just too nice.”
Jamie thought for a minute then asked Ali something that had been bugging him for a while.
“Are you pirates like the pirates in books and stuff at home?”
“What do you mean?” enquired Ali.
“Well, do you…er…like…walk the plank, drink rum and have swordfights and parrots that say ‘Pretty Polly’?”
“No,” Ali told him with a smile. “I’ve heard about the books and things about pirates that the Durfies read. They’re completely wrong. Didn’t one pirate in one of your books have a hook as a hand or something?”
“Yeah I think so,” Jamie said, slightly amused by his own naivety. “I never thought pirates were real until today and apparently now I’m living with them for the rest of my life.”
“I know, it’s a lot to take in.”
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