[Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman

The magistrate rose to leave. “You can indeed, marm!”

Dai Evans came hurrying in with a tray of drinks, elderberry wine, beer, and lemonade, which he began serving to the party.

“Wait, sir, join us in a toast to our new squiress!”

Smiling, the magistrate raised his glass. “I’m not sure squiress is right, but whatever it is, I’m sure Mrs. Winn will perform her duties admirably, with all of you as her friends!”

Will Drummond raised his glass. “Aye, that’s the toast. Friends.”

As the company clinked glasses they chorused together. “To friends!”

Celebrations at Evans Tea Shoppe, and throughout the village, went on into the mid-noon. Now every villager was his or her own landlord, owning the actual ground their house or business stood upon. The square resounded to the noise of happy folk, who had occupied the marquee previously set up for those who had planned the destruction of Chapelvale. Amy Somers was watching Blodwen Evans coaxing her brother to take on yet another portion of ice cream, when she noticed that Ben and his dog had slipped away during the merry-making.

She found them sitting in the alley together, enjoying a respite away from the bustle and noise indoors. The dark-haired girl sat next to Ben, her back against the wall, noting how he and the dog were looking at each other.

“You two are talking together, I can tell.”

Ben shrugged. “We’re just exchanging a few thoughts, feeling happy for Miz Winn and the village. Old Ned looks happy, doesn’t he?”

Amy stroked beneath the black Labrador’s chin. “Yes, he looks very happy indeed. I’ll just sit here and be happy with you both.”

Mischief danced in Ben’s blue eyes, as he sighed peacefully. “All you need for real happiness is the sun on your face and a friend by your side.”

The girl smiled fondly at him. “That’s nice, but what about Ned?”

The strange boy smiled back at her. “Ned’s the friend I was talking about.”

She dived on him, pummeling away playfully. “Ooh, you rotter!”

Ben giggled helplessly. “Mercy please, I meant you, too!”

The dog threw a thought in. “Go on, m’girl, teach the cheeky young pup a lesson!”

47

ONE MONTH LATER.

SUMMER ROLLED ON TOWARD AUTUMN. One morning after breakfast, Ben and his dog accompanied Winnie into the village on her weekly shopping trip. They sauntered into the square together, Ned slightly ahead, carrying the woven cane basket in his jaws. Ben stared at the ground, scuffing the dusty cobbles. Winnie watched him with some concern.

“What is it, Ben, you don’t look too cheerful today. Do you feel ill, is that it?”

The quiet boy flicked his hair aside and managed a smile. “Oh, I’ll brighten up, I suppose. Didn’t sleep too well last night, that’s all. I’m all right, really.”

The old lady’s hand caressed his cheek. “You’re thinking of leaving, aren’t you.”

Ben took the basket from his dog’s mouth and handed it to her. He could not explain the dreams that had been haunting him for the past two nights. Booming waves, hissing surf, creaking rigging, and the slap of wet sails against taut ropes. Vanderdecken’s ranting voice and his mad eyes. In his dreams the angel’s voice echoed clear again.

“When you hear the toll of a church bell, you must leave this place and travel on!”

The boy turned his clouded blue eyes away from the old lady. “You do your shopping, Miz Winn. I’ll go over to the almshouse and see how the new project’s coming along.”

She watched him walking across the square with Ned trotting alongside. A boy and his dog. A sudden sadness descended on her, and she called after her strange friend.

“I’ll see you at Evans Tea Shoppe for lunch, Ben.”

Without turning, he waved his hand.

As Ben dropped his hand, his big, black dog licked it. “I know, you don’t have to tell me, mate, we share the same dreams, remember?”

Ben scratched the dog’s ear gently. “Aye, we’ve left a lot of places behind in our travels, but this village and the friends we’ve made here . . . I tell you, it’s going to be hard to leave Chapelvale.”

Looking up, he saw Alex waving to them from the almshouse door.

Almost everybody was there. Amy threw an arm around Ben’s shoulder, leading him into the building. Sheaves of reconstruction blueprints were laid out on the table. Jon, Will, Mr. Braithwaite, and Mr. Mackay were studying them. Amy coughed, waving her hand at the dust that was floating about. She called to Regina and her friends. “Stop that sweeping for a moment, please. Could you start carrying those benches outside?”

Her brother wrinkled his nose. “Oh, all right, bossy boots. Come on, Regina, Tommo, let’s take this big one between us.”

The old seaman took a pencil from behind his ear and made a minor adjustment to one of the blueprints. “There, we can extend the evening tea garden out into the old graveyard at the rear.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “Evening tea garden?”