The Jolly Dodger (The Soul Seekers Book 8)

Home > Other > The Jolly Dodger (The Soul Seekers Book 8) > Page 3
The Jolly Dodger (The Soul Seekers Book 8) Page 3

by Alice J Black


  “No, I’m okay.” I shot him a smile which I hoped was convincing. “I’ll be fine. Maybe I just need to eat. You know how I get when I’m hungry.”

  “That’s true.” He grinned. “Okay, then pick what you want because the woman is coming back over.”

  She was on her way, with a notepad in hand. I skimmed the menu. I had no idea what I wanted and was glad for the few extra seconds when she started the orders with Olivia and moved counter-clockwise around the table.

  “And what can I get you?” Her gaze fell to me.

  “I’ll take a burger with onion rings, please.”

  She jotted the note in the shorthand scribble that only waitresses can understand, nodded, smiled, and then walked away.

  “I hope the food here is as good as it smells.” Rob rubbed his belly again.

  “We get it, you’re starving.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

  “You know me, I can’t stop eating!”

  “I know. I’ve made your lunch before.”

  “You make him lunch!” My mouth opened wide as I stared at my best friend. “Who are you?”

  “Hey, it’s called being nice.”

  “I don’t recall you ever making my lunch.” I crossed my arms in mock annoyance.

  “You’re my best friend, not my other half.”

  “Better half,” Rob said.

  Olivia glanced his way and shook her head.

  “You send me into ghost-infested old buildings with no thought for my safety, while he gets cooked meals. I want to reconsider my position as your best friend.”

  “It’s either that or acquaintance. There’s no room for anything else.” She grinned.

  “That’s right.” Rob slung his arm over her shoulder. “She’s got me.”

  “And you’re more than enough.” She slapped his thigh.

  “Hey!” I said.

  “Don’t worry.” Jake shuffled closer and looped his arm over my shoulder. “You don’t need anything more than best friend status from her when you’ve got me.”

  “That’s true.” I titled my head up to his, our lips meeting in a chaste kiss, and I smelled the hint of beer on his breath.

  At one time I would’ve panicked, the smell alone making me clamour for more. But now, alcohol was behind me and I didn’t need it anymore. It had almost been a year since I’d stopped drinking, with no lapses, only occasional thoughts and plenty of steps forward. I was proud of myself for sticking to my guns and turning my life around. Once I hit that year of sobriety, I’d have to plan a celebration and thank those who’d supported me.

  It wasn’t long before our meals were brought out, and I figured we had arrived just in time, as the restaurant had filled up, each table occupied by groups of friends or couples, and they all seemed to wait longer for their food than we had.

  Rob rubbed his hands together as he stared at the plate in front of him. “This looks good.” He grabbed the ketchup from the middle of the table and smothered his chips before adding salt and vinegar.

  The condiments were passed around the table, and as I sat back and tucked into my first meal of the day, I thought about what had happened earlier.

  The voice in my head. I knew it wasn’t coincidence. Ever since I stopped drinking, my senses were honed—with help from Sylvia—and I knew when there was a spirit lurking nearby just by the tingle I felt at the base of my skull. It usually didn’t bother me, because most spirits liked to hang around but didn’t pester me.

  This, however, was different. A voice invading my mind, a blast of noise and darkness. There was a ghost on board, and he wasn’t exactly passive.

  Never mind. As long as he kept away from me and minded his own business, we’d have no problem. It was a long shot, but it was one I was willing to hang on to because this was the first time I’d been away in a long time and I didn’t want anything to spoil it. My last trip away on a murder mystery tour had both highlights and sour notes, I didn’t want this trip to be the same.

  After finishing our meals and watching Rob devour a hearty treacle sponge with lashings of custard, we settled the bill. My stomach was full and I was about ready to burst, when Olivia looked at her watch.

  “Oh, my god. The sing-along starts in two hours.”

  “Relax, there’s still plenty of time,” I said.

  “Not long enough to get drunk, though.”

  I arched my brow. “You’re seriously going to go and get drunk so you can sing?”

  She nodded, staring into my eyes.

  “Olive, I think you’re developing a problem.” I cracked a grin.

  “Very funny, Peyton. So, guys, are we doing this?” She looked from Rob to Jake.

  Rob was nodding, eager to please and even more eager to continue drinking.

  Jake looked at me. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.” I held my hands up. “You guys go and enjoy. I’m going to grab my book and head back to the coffee shop.”

  “We’ll come and get you just before the sing-a-long starts.” He planted a kiss on my cheek.

  My stomach jumped at the now-strong smell of beer on his breath.

  “I’ll look forward to it.” I grinned and watched as the three set off towards the pub, Olivia and Rob hand-in-hand.

  Part of me wished I could go with them, enjoy the atmosphere of the bar, but the realistic side of me knew better. It wasn’t just a case of sitting in a pub. It was sitting with a whole bunch of people who were either drunk or well on their way to being merry. I could be around people who were drinking, but something about a bar and the atmosphere was a big no for me.

  I turned away as the three of them slipped inside the darkened room, and headed back to the cabin. I moved down the set of narrow stairs, skirting around at the bottom to let a group of guys past. They hurried up the stairs in a whiff of aftershave and hair gel, and I knew exactly where they were going.

  I smiled as the last one passed, then carried on. The key was tucked into my pocket, and as I reached the door, I inserted the key into the lock and twisted. The clasp gave and I was just about to step into the room, when another blast hit my mind.

  Avast ye landlubbers!

  The spot at the base of my skull ached as the echo faded from my mind. When I finally opened my eyes, I found I’d been thrown back against the opposite wall of the passage, the doorway directly in front of me.

  I heard a girl giggle, and when I turned to look, her gaze dropped to the floor and she hurried past with her friend. “I think she’s had one too many,” she whispered.

  Harmless enough, but I still bristled.

  Alcohol. That was everyone’s excuse for someone who looked worse for wear.

  I shook myself and straightened up, moving across the corridor and into the cabin. The sheets were still a mess from my foray with Jake earlier, and I smiled at the thought of falling asleep beneath those sheets, the pair of us squeezed into a cabin bed, heat spreading through me as it emanated from his bare skin.

  I located my backpack on the other bed and opened the zipper. My book was at the bottom and I had to pull out the entire contents to get to it.

  I stood up and was just about to head to the door, when something caught my eye at the porthole. I snapped my head towards it and did a doubletake. A tail fin moved past the window, and then it was gone.

  I hurried towards the porthole, my hands pressed either side, nose against the cold glass, and peered through but saw nothing but the murky water. Surely, it couldn’t have been real. There weren’t any sharks in the North Sea, were there?

  I shook my head. I was losing my mind and. I needed more coffee.

  I ambled away from the circular windows set into the side of the ship and came face-to-face with my reflection in the mirror. As much as I’d known earlier when we were tucking into our meal, this was confirmation. Something was going on inside this ship. Pirate voices invading my mind, sharks swimming past the window. There was a spirit on board.

  I’d gone away for a trip to
let everything go but instead encountered a ghost who was channelling his inner pirate. Great.

  My book was cradled under my arm, and I still wanted to head to the coffee shop and forget the whole thing, but in my experience, if a spirit couldn’t be heard the way it wanted to, it would be heard in any way possible.

  After setting my book down in front of the small mirror, I stepped back out of the door and locked up, fighting annoyance. Turning to face the corridor, I paused and took a deep breath. The problem was, I didn’t even know where to start.

  I first heard the voice when we were eating and I’d just heard it now in the cabin. The spirit could be anywhere. I needed some more information. I would find Pete.

  Setting myself in motion, I wondered why I hadn’t bothered to pack my kit. No matter where I went, the spirits were bound to find me. Perhaps I should have a portable kit filled with the essentials. I tucked the mental note to the back of my mind. I would mention it to Olivia when we were safe on dry land.

  I patted my pocket where the lighter was stored. At least I wasn’t going in completely blind.

  I trudged up the stairs and finally reached the top, panting.

  The familiar sounds of joviality emanated from further down the hallway. I didn’t need to guess twice. It was coming from the bar.

  I bit my lip. Jake was in there with Olivia and Rob. I knew he’d want me to get him if I was going to explore the ship, especially if I was going anywhere concerning spirits, but I didn’t want to spoil his fun.

  Being with a ghost hunter probably wasn’t the easiest life for him. Jake offered to help out with things, but I knew my lifestyle was a hard pill to swallow.

  I shook my head and turned away. I’d leave him to it tonight. Besides, I was the one who could hear the spirits, nobody else. This was on me.

  I clung to the railing as I heaved up the steep steps, to the top deck in hopes that Pete was around. Pausing to catch my breath, I took in the ship’s scenery once more. The rigging creaked in the gentle wind, and on the top of the mast, the pirate flag waved lazily. The sun was beginning to set, and after I stepped to the side of the ship, making sure to keep away from the plank, I halted. The sky was deep orange, the reflection on the sea a shimmering glow. Maybe I should’ve gotten Jake.

  I was about to turn around and head back down, when the voice hit me again.

  Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

  The sound blast ripped through me and bright lights flashed in front of my eyes. Louder, stronger, the echoes rippled inside my skull. Gritting my teeth, I fought the pain as it ricocheted inside my head and took over my consciousness.

  “Are you all right?” A male voice said.

  After shaking my head, I focused on what was in front of me. I saw my hands flat on wooden boards, legs sprawled out. The cold wind blew across me, snapping me back to reality, and I realised I was sitting on the deck, backside throbbing where I’d dropped like a sack, a man standing over me. I glanced up, shielding my eyes from the sun’s glare.

  “Yeah . . . I . . .”

  He held a hand out and I took it, feeling a jolt of his warmth springing through me. It was invigorating, and as I felt it course through my body, I used his weight to pull myself up.

  “You just went over. I didn’t have time to catch you,” he said as I dropped my hand and dusted off my jeans.

  Stupidity rolled through me. I looked like I couldn’t hold my booze, but I was being blasted on all sides by a spirit eager for attention.

  “Don’t worry, my backside is as hard as my head.” I forced a smile as I tried to mentally assess the damage. I’d have a bruise if nothing more.

  He grinned, and I realised he was dressed in full pirate garb.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I take it you work here?”

  “Aye! That I do.” He nodded.

  “Do you ever get sick of talking pirate?”

  “Aye.” His shoulders dropped. “I do.”

  I laughed. “I’m Peyton.”

  I stuck my hand out, and he shook it firmly.

  “Andy. How’re you enjoying it so far?”

  “It’s good.” I nodded. “I love the ship. So authentic. Or the top two decks are at least.”

  Andy shook his head. “It’s not as good as it used to be. Health and safety hit us hard. We used to have everything so real that when people left they were talking like pirates.”

  “Really?” My eyes widened.

  “Yeah. I used to feel like a pirate back in those days. Everything was wooden, coils of rope lying everywhere, treasure chests, parrots. It really was something. We even had bunk rooms for staff and visitors. Between four and ten to a cabin. When people first came on board, they were always weary about rooming with strangers, but by the time they left, they’d made lifelong pals. It was amazing.” He smiled. “When the health and safety inspectors came in, they made us change all the rooms and everything else.”

  “I have to be honest with you, Andy.” I leaned in, and whispered, “The beds leave a lot to be desired.”

  “I’ve said it time and time again. But the company reckons they’re fine. The landlubbers—that’s you guys—are usually only in them for a couple hours at most. People tend to be busy on activity most of the time. Speaking of which?” He arched his brow.

  “You’re wondering why I’m on the deck, taking in the sunset alone?” I glanced over the sea and noticed that the sun was almost gone.

  Shadows fell across the deck and the wind was icy.

  “Exactly.” He crossed his arms. “As you can see we’re the only two people up here.”

  I considered his words, and for some reason, chills chased down my spine.

  “My friends are in the bar getting tanked up, ready for the sea shanty singing.”

  “Always a good choice.” He smiled. “Are you on your way to meet them? I could escort you if you like.”

  “Actually, I’m avoiding it because I’m an alcoholic.”

  “Oh.” He dropped his gaze.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve made my peace with it.”

  “Well, good for you.”

  “Andy, how long have you worked on the Jolly Dodger?”

  “Around three years. It takes up most weekends, and then I work for an events company throughout the week.”

  “Do you know much about the ship?”

  A wry smile. “You mean, is it a real pirate ship?”

  “You get asked that a lot?” I sagged, already sensing the answer that was coming.

  “It’s the number one question.” He nodded. “Unfortunately, the Jolly Dodger isn’t as authentic as you would think, or as I would like. Though, we do have some authentic items.”

  My ears pricked at those words. Authentic items meant old things. Sentimental things. This could work in my favour.

  “Like?”

  “We have an anchor that was pulled up from a wreck, on the port side of the deck. It’s actually really beautiful to look at. We have an old map on display in the captain’s chambers. It’s rumoured to have been possessed by a famous sea faring pirate many years ago.” He winked.

  “I bet that map is cool.”

  “It is. Unfortunately, it’s not out for public display because it’s so valuable. There’s stuff all over the ship. Bottles pulled from wrecks, driftwood, the wheel over there.” He pointed. “Take a look while you’re walking around. If it looks old and ruined, it’s probably real. Oh, and if you look on the deck with the bars and restaurants, there are a number of things in frames.”

  “That’s a lot of stuff.” I shook my head. I was hoping he was going to say there was only one item, or tell me about the oldest thing. Instead I was left with more questions than I’d arrived with.

  Andy beamed. “We pride ourselves in the Jolly Dodger and the items on display. You should take a look.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  “The anchor’s that way if you want to see it.” He pointed.

  I thanked him again and watched h
im disappear below deck, hands stuffed in his pockets as he whistled.

  I leaned against the side of the ship. I heard the water splashing and moving while the Jolly Dodger continued its journey through the darkness. I had no idea where to go from here. There were so many things that could be tying the spirit to this ship.

  I shook my head and stretched. The sun had disappeared below the horizon. As the wind blew across the deck, a shiver racked my body and goosebumps rose. I ambled across the deck, boots thumping on the boards, and wrapped my arms around my chest.

  Andy was right. There was nobody else above deck, and now it was only me.

  Above, the ropes of the rigging creaked and the sails were caught in the wind, billowing in and out like an accordion. As my gaze flicked over the mast, chasing it into the star-filled sky, I marvelled at the accuracy at which the ship had been produced. It wasn’t authentic by any shot, but it looked good.

  I reached the spot Andy had pointed out only a few minutes ago. The anchor was on the deck, a thick chain connecting it to the ship. I set my hand on the top of the anchor. It was frigid, and I shivered as the bolt of ice rocked through my arm. But there was nothing else. No angry spirit voice angry at the invasion. No dull sense in the back of my skull. Nothing.

  I let out a sigh of relief that I didn’t know I’d been holding. If the anchor had been the anchor, my lighter wouldn’t have been of any use.

  I turned and hustled back towards the stairs. I reached the top, my hand gripping the banister, when I heard a splash. It was louder than the sea rolling against the side of the ship and sounded like something had fallen overboard. Or had been pushed.

  A shiver coursed through me, and I remained frozen. I stared down the steps, trying to force my legs to move, but they wouldn’t. The noise replayed in my mind. Splash. And I realised it was preceded by shuffling steps. The sound of someone walking the plank.

  I turned back to face the deck, to find I was only staring at darkness. A wave of relief rushed through me. I don’t know what I expected, but there wasn’t anything. Yet as I stared at the shadows covering the top of the ship, I realised, with trepidation, that I couldn’t rest until I’d gone over there.

  Goosebumps rose on my arms, and I shivered as the cool wind whipped around me. The last thing I wanted to do was cross the deck and stare into the dark water. But that wasn’t the only reason for wanting to remain in the light. I’d heard a splash. I’d heard shuffling footsteps, the kind that suggested its victim’s feet were bound and they were forced to walk the length of plank. And there hadn’t been anybody on deck but me, which meant one thing.

 

‹ Prev