Prologue

The journey seemed to be taking forever. The ship - called The Dynamite - had been owned by William Murphy since he was eighteen. He had been a renown sailor in the Irish sea, and had met Anne when he was twenty-one. They had married a year later and had a baby when William and Anne were both twenty-five. Now they were sailing towards the Caribbean, escaping from the UK. William faced being hanged but he had not bothered to tell anyone why, not even Anne. She stood on the deck, holding their baby boy, Declan, in her arms. He had just turned one.

They had been on the seas for weeks. A few of William’s old friends were travelling with them and helped William with the trek. But Anne was worried about him. He had been quiet throughout the journey - they had barely spoken. Maybe he was worried about the Navy finding them. 

William was at the wheel, turning it now and then. Anne moved next to him and he glanced at her, ruffling Declan’s hair. He looked unhappy, not his usual, cheerful self.

“We’ll be at Port Royal soon,” he said quietly, not looking at Anne. 

She nodded, secretly delighted. She didn’t want to be on the seas a minute longer, but she knew how much William loved it. However, she knew full well that Port Royal was a common place for pirates to visit, and the thought worried her.

It was the year 1670. Pirates ruled the seas, especially in the Caribbean. Anne had prayed that they would not run into any pirates on the journey before they had left Ireland, and it was a miracle they hadn’t, in her eyes. 

William’s oldest friend, Jimmy Goldman, came up to the wheel on the other side of him, grinning excitedly. 

“We’re almost there!” he shouted and the other men cheered. 

Declan let out a squeal of laughter. Anne watched as William turned to face his son, smiling almost sadly. Her concerns suddenly increased.

“Is there something wrong, Will?” she asked finally, unable to hold back any longer.

William shook his head. “It’s nothing, love. Nothing at all.”

But Anne saw him glance at Jimmy, and they shared a look of warning and understanding. Her eyes narrowed. Something was going on and she didn’t like it. 

Soon, the Jamaican city of Port Royal began to come into view. Jimmy licked his lips excitedly while William held his emotionless expression. They moved towards the port and Anne shivered, although there was very little wind. Why was she shivering?

The Dynamite moved closer to the port and a few black children - slaves, Anne imagined - ran up and tied the ship to the harbour. Anne was surprised when William smiled at the children and gave them the thumbs up. Then William signalled for Anne to follow him off the ship, whilst the others waited behind.

Almost as soon as Anne and William had set foot on land again, a man wearing very posh clothes had jumped in front of them.

“It’s a shilling to tie your ship up,” he ordered fussily. “And I’ll need your names.”

“The name’s Murphy,” William told them man, pressing a shilling into his hand. “This is my wife.”

The man nodded. “Right. Welcome to Port Royal, Mr and Mrs Murphy.”

They walked past him, Declan looking around in wonder. Anne was partly excited about seeing their new house.

“So where is it?” she asked. “The house?”

William didn’t answer immediately, just kept on walking till they made it to a busy area of the town. He stopped in front of a small corner shop.

“Here,” he said simply. 

Anne looked at the corner shop. It was scruffy, smelly and altogether a pretty horrible place. It would be a terrible place to bring a baby up in. Anne began to laugh.

“Good joke, Will,” she said. “Now’s where’s our house?”

William stared at her gravely. “This is it. I’m sorry.”

Anne looked at the corner shop again and then back to William. Anger was building up inside her. “You’re sorry? What do you mean you’re sorry! I thought we’re were going to have a nice little house together, like we did in Ireland.”

William looked down. “I have to leave.”

“What? What’s the matter with you? Why do you have to leave?”

“You don’t understand, Anne.” William looked on the verge of tears. “I’ve done some terrible things and I’m being hunted all over. I’m a pirate.”

There was a moment of terrible silence between them, only interrupted by Declan’s baby talk. Anne stared at William, a look of shock and fear in her face. She took a step back. 

“You’re a pirate,” she murmured again, looking shocked. “I guess it makes sense. You’re always at sea and the British are hunting you down. But why? Why did you never tell me?”

“Because I knew you would leave me,” William replied, shaking slightly. “And I couldn’t bear that, especially now Declan’s been born as well.”

“Won’t he be proud?” said Anne bitterly. “The son of a pirate.”

William looked hurt at this remark, but soon changed his expression back to normal. “I have to go,” he told her. “My crew needs me.”

“More than your wife and son?” Anne exclaimed angrily. “Why can’t you stay here with us? Port Royal even welcomes pirates!”

“I wish I could,” William replied. “But there are things to be done which you’ll never understand. I’ll come back whenever possible.”

“Don’t,” Anne replied coldly, turning away from William. “We don’t need you.”

William opened his mouth but closed it, hurt by Anne’s rejection. He nodded sadly and turned around. He paused and glanced back to Anne.

“Tell Declan I was sorry,” he muttered before taking off back to The Dynamite. 

Anne couldn’t help but turn and watch as The Dynamite turned round and set sail once more, raising the familiar skull and bones flag as it went. Anne suddenly became angry as she realised the deceit of William. He had always been a bit mysterious but this was incredible.

She held Declan closer to her, not feeling so alone. 

“It’s just me and you now,” she muttered to him.