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Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse

By: YDB95



Decades ago when I was still a fairly young man, there was a quiet pub in my corner of London that was popular among gentlemanly American sailors. Not the sort of rowdy drunken loudmouths that gave their country a bad name, mind you, but their more mature brethren who enjoyed a quiet drink and pleasant conversation by the fireside before returning to sea. Having never been to the States myself in those days, I came to love welcoming the strangers to my neighbourhood to hear their tales of far away. The clientele seemed to include young men from every port over there, and in time I came to feel I knew Boston, New York, San Francisco and all the other ports as well as a native might. 

Regrettably -- or so I thought at the time -- I made the mistake of divulging all that to my niece. The daughter of my much-older brother, she was scarcely ten years younger than I. Being as she had just gone eighteen that rainy summer and boasted a shameless lust for foreign men, nary a visit to my brother's home went by without Lillie begging me to bring her round to my pub. "Uncle Edmund, I know you are not one of those silly old codgers who believe alcohol is for men only -- you can't fool me, I know it!"

"Of course I'm not, my dear. I should even be more than pleased to treat you to a glass of wine or two with dinner. But if I brought you to a pub crawling with sailors, I scarcely wish to imagine what your mother and father should have to say to me!"

"Well, they don't need to know, Uncle Edmund, now do they?"

Indeed, I reflected, they did not. I had been an impertinent youngster myself not so long before, and I had many unpleasant memories of my brother ordering me about as if he were my father. I could only imagine the regulations poor Lillie must have faced, being that he really was her father. The poor thing was entitled to her bit of fun before the responsibilities of adulthood took full hold. And so, against my better judgment but with the devil-may-care joy of a favoured uncle, I told my brother and sister I had purchased tickets to a matinee and mightn't I treat my beloved Lillie to an afternoon at the theatre? Not without conditions, mind you: I told Lillie in no uncertain terms that she was to wear trousers or a long skirt, drink nothing stronger than wine, say nothing she would not want her father to hear, and be prepared to depart at my word should anything go amiss. "And I am certain I do not need to advise you on the chance of my doing any such thing for you again should your parents learn of this," I advised her.

"Heavens, no!" Lillie exclaimed, leaping into my arms with an added assurance that she would follow all my orders. "Thank you, Uncle Edmund!"

Three days later, dressed to my conservative specifications, she joined me in her father's parlour with a kiss goodbye to him, and we were off. She was uncharacteristically quiet in the taxi, owing perhaps to nerves; but she allowed a delighted sigh when I held the pub door open for her and ushered her inside. "Just as I have always imagined!" she said just a bit too loudly as she took in the view of the dark red leather seats and opulent decorations adorning the walls. "Are they all this lovely?"

"I only wish they were," I replied, drawing an appreciative nod from the bartender. 

As it was a cloudy, cool afternoon despite the season, there was a roaring fire in the fireplace. Four chairs were set around the hearth, of which only one was occupied, by an older gentleman nursing a whiskey neat. I expected Lillie's attention to run to the younger men seated at the bar or by the window; but she found the fire irresistible and lost no time in approaching the older man. "Pardon me, sir, may we join you here?"

"I'd be delighted with your company," he said in an American accent of a variety I did not recognize. 

Lillie undoubtedly did not know its exact origin either, but her smile in response to his invitation made it clear she did not care just where he might be from. "Thank you!" She recalled her manners long enough to smooth out her skirt as she sat down in the chair facing his, but then instant familiarity took over. "I've been after my uncle here to bring me to this pub for the longest time!" she exclaimed, not even noticing as the waiter approached and I ordered a glass of merlot for her and a pint for myself. "Dying to meet the American sailors, I've been! Are you a sailor? Oh, heavens, are you American? I understand Canadians hate it when we assume..."

"Lillie," I reproved her gently. "I think our new friend might not be here to play twenty questions!"

"Oh, it's quite all right, thank you," the gentleman reassured me. "Delighted with the welcome, actually. We aren't beloved in every port nowadays, you know." Turning to Lillie, he said, "Yes, I am an American sailor. Went to sea when I was twelve, actually, and I've been at it ever since."

"Twelve!" Lillie was appropriately shocked. "Heavens, I wasn't even allowed out of Nurse's sight at that age."

"Well, it was a different time and a very, very different place," the man explained to her. 

"Which place?" Lillie's brazenness was back in full force. "Uncle Edmund has told me all about the great American ports. I think I like the tales of New York and San Francisco the best. Little wonder a boy could go to sea at twelve if he came from a place like that."

"Indeed," the man chuckled. "But I'm not from either of those, though I have spent many a lovely day in both. No, I'm from Sauraquid."

Now it was my turn to pipe up in a most un-English fashion. "Sauraquid!" I said. "My God, man, the stories I've heard of that place from so many sailors here, but do you know you are the first one I have met who is from there!"

"That doesn't surprise me," he said. "The sea is our life in Sauraquid, and everyone there makes a living from it in one way or another. But most of us who come from there stay there. Little wonder, really, if you've ever seen the filthy towns elsewhere in that part of the world. My own story is a very unique one, actually, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, this is just what I had hoped for!" Lillie squealed. "You must forgive me, Mister..."

"Jenkins," the man said, extending his hand. I was surprised and pleased to note that he shook her hand as firmly as one would a man's -- the mark of a man who would not condescend to women. "But please, call me Charlie."

"Thank you, Charlie! My name is Lillie and this is my uncle, Edmund." Turning to me, she added, "Uncle Edmund, why did you never tell me of Sauraquid? I do not even know where it is." She then whipped back to Charlie and added, "I am proud to say I know approximately where all forty-eight of your states are, you see, and I am quite sure Sauraquid is not one of them?"

"No, Sauraquid is in the state of Massachusetts," Charlie explained. "Or it's an island off the coast of Massachusetts, actually, and although it is part of that state we tend to think of ourselves as a land apart."

"Is it near Nantucket, then?" Lillie's knowledge of American geography was taking even me by surprise now; she had truly done her homework.

"A bit further out to sea than that," Charlie told her. "And Nantucket is known for its tourist attractions. Sauraquid isn't. We're much more of a working-class community, everybody there to do his or her part. It's beautiful in its own way, but it wasn't an easy place to grow up, I can tell you. Perhaps that is why your uncle never told you about it."

"That, plus most of the stories I have heard would not be suitable for mixed company," I added, cringing a bit as I realised I had surely piqued Lillie's prurient interest more than ever. 

"I'm afraid he's right," Charlie said. "It is not a refined place at all, and that is unavoidably a part of what makes it what it is. In fact, it's the defining characteristic of why Sauraquid remains the pleasant backwater it is. My own story, I'm afraid, is inexorably shot through with episodes better suited to a bathhouse than a fine establishment like this."

"Oh, do share it, though!" Lillie pleaded. "It is not as though I am a blushing babe!"

"Lillie, I do not think that is a good idea," I told her. "There are things a girl of your pedigree could never understand no matter how many pirate novels you have read."

"And there are things a man could never understand about being a woman," Lillie reminded me. "With all that we live with, do you really believe we are truly the fairer sex at all?"

"I am more concerned with what your parents would think than with any of that," I replied, trying not to dwell on any of the taboos my darling niece had just implied. Many was the time I had thought the exact same thing, actually, but there was no need to give her the satisfaction of knowing as much. 

Charlie looked less bewildered than I, and I was sure I saw the knowing visage of a man who had learned a great deal about women from women -- probably far more than I knew. "I don't wish to scandalise anyone, Edmund, but I must agree with Lillie. In my experience, women can tolerate far more than we men tend to give them credit for."

"Then you are going to tell me your thrilling life story, scandal and all!" Lillie insisted.

Charlie looked at me wordlessly. I felt my lips curl into a smile, knowing all too well that I was as desperate to hear the tale as Lillie thought she was. She faced a lifetime of dull tea-parties and snobbish circles, and her father would never need to know of this one transgression. "Oh, very well then, we're both listening!"

"If you are sure," Charlie said. He downed the last of his drink and waved at the bartender for another. "As I said, I went to sea when I was twelve. There is little I can tell you about my life before that, and only one person I was sorry to leave behind when I was taken away."

"Your mother, no doubt," Lillie said.

"Well, no," Charlie continued. "I'm afraid my mother was...well, she didn't have the best reputation. A washerwoman for the fishermen, but that did not make enough to feed four children. And my father was lost at sea, long before I was old enough to ever remember him. So she did what she needed to do, bless her soul. But of course the townsfolk did not see it that way, and they did not have much welcome for anyone in her family. I very much returned the favour, I have to admit. A street smart urchin from the time I was in pants, that was me. Always getting in trouble and nearly always slipping through the fingers of the law one way or another. 

"Now, the one person I mentioned that I missed after I was Shanghaied, that was my dearest friend Wendy. She also came from the gutter, exactly where I don't know, as we never talked about our families. Lovely girl, too, although you had to look closely beneath all the sea salt and grime she and I both picked up playing along the shore all day. She used to wear a faded dress that had once been some bright pastel shade or other long before it came down to her. It was all raggedy just like her hair and her hands and everything else about her, grown up long before her time just like I was. But when the sunlight hit her just right when we were frolicking on the beach, well, she was beautiful in her own way. I used to promise I would make her a queen someday, and she'd laugh it off and tell me I could start by stealing some fish for lunch."

"Tell me you did not steal fish, Charlie!" Lillie interjected.

"I wish I could tell you that," Charlie said. "But as I said, it was a hardscrabble childhood. We did only steal what we needed, and we usually got away with nothing more than screams about how one day we'd be sent off to the mainland to work in the factories. And that, my friend, was a fate worse than death. You see, one thing about Sauraquid: we might have been a poor community, but the island was clean and beautiful. Not polluted at all beyond the dirt and salt on our hands from working. Over on the mainland, Lowell and Lawrence and thereabouts, we heard stories of all the factories and the many jobs they had. Modern efficiency and all that. But we also heard about the very long hours and the low pay and people losing hands in the machines and worse, and most of all we heard about the pollution. Poisoning the rivers, dirtying the air, soot and filth everywhere you turned. Even for a couple of filthy street urchins like Wendy and me, that had the power to scare us straight -- for a while at least. Until the next time we were desperately hungry and there was no luck fishing in the tides ourselves. 

"No factories in Sauraquid, from what I've heard," I said.

"That's right, and no pollution either," Charlie said. "A veritable Garden of Eden, as far as clean air was concerned. And I'll tell you, having been all over the world since then, I find there's nowhere on Earth half as pristine and unspoiled as Sauraquid was -- and still is. Perhaps you've heard, Edmund, how it is that the pollution and other undesirable elements were kept at bay on Sauraquid?"

"I've heard rumours," I said reluctantly, still wishing Lillie would not be privy to what was coming.

"Sounds like heaven, Charlie," Lillie said. "Except for having to steal your lunch, of course."

"You can say that again," Charlie said. "All the unspoiled meadows inland and the beaches and the well-swept streets of the town, clean and safe but for the trouble Wendy and I and others like us caused...if you had to grow up in the street, Sauraquid was the place to do it. No filthy polluting factories for us. No waste to poison the ocean with either. But Wendy and I, as I said, we were common thieves, and in such a small community of course the law will catch up to you. It happened on a blistering hot summer's day when I was twelve. Wendy, I think, was a couple of years older than I, but we never talked about that. In any case, the catch hadn't been good lately, my mother hadn't been able to do much business that week, and I don't think Wendy or I had eaten a real meal in three days. We didn't like to steal, you'll understand, but desperation can make you do all sorts of things you don't care to do -- story of my life, that. In any event, old Mr. Cabot, the oldest fishmonger in town -- and easiest to outrun as a result -- he finally hauled in a decent batch of cod and he was setting them up in his usual spot just off the beach road. Calling out the catch as usual, he was, with his back to the beach since there was no one there. No one but Wendy and me."

"You stole his fish, then," Lillie said. She sounded to me like she was trying to sound disapproving, but I detected a sense of romantic enchantment beneath it all.

"Only one," Charlie said. "That would have been enough to keep our bellies still for a while anyway, once we got it back to our hideout and got a campfire going. Poor old man Cabot probably wouldn't have missed one fish, either. But I was so hungry I forgot to look as carefully as I usually did just before I grabbed the fish, and Cabot's daughter -- she'd been on the fishing boat with her husband that had just brought in the catch that morning -- she saw me, and she let out a scream. 'It's those two thievin' little rats again, Pop!' Well, I turned tail and ran off, right past the old man as he turned to see us, the fish under my arm and everything, dodging people left and right in the street and trying to disappear into the crowd. I know I heard a couple of guys chasing after me, but I was smaller and I made it across the street and behind the row of buildings there. Once I got that far, I looked over my shoulder to make sure Wendy had gotten away too. 

"But she hadn't. I saw Cabot had her pinned to the ground and his daughter smacking her face again and again while she screamed. Well, I couldn't desert her when I was the one who'd been the thief this time, after all."

"Honour among criminals, then," Lillie said, all pretence to disapproval now gone in favour of thrilling to the tale. Privately I had to confess that I felt the same. 

"I suppose. In any case, I was standing there just around the corner, out of sight of Cabot and Wendy, trying to figure out how I could help her. There must be a way to create a diversion, I was thinking. I thought so hard on the matter that I quite forgot how much trouble I'd be in if I got caught standing there. And so of course I was caught. Another one of Cabot's fishermen had been smart enough to go around behind the buildings from the other end of the block, and he grabbed me from behind and swung me over his shoulder -- still clutching the fish, of course -- before I'd had any idea what had happened. He paraded me right past Cabot and Wendy, saying 'Got 'im, Pops, we finally got 'im!' I was crying, that much I remember. Pretty sure Wendy was too, as we had just enough time to make eye contact when he carried me past."

Charlie paused for a sip of his new drink. "That was the last time I saw Wendy for several years. When we did meet again, I didn't dare ask what they had done to her just after we were caught. Sent her off to Lowell to work in a factory, was my guess at first, and then as I grew up and learned more about what women like my mother did to survive...well, I didn't want to dwell on that possibility with my Wendy. I still don't care to think about all that. As for me, the guy who caught me carried me all the way to the town gaol and had me locked up. I'd been there a time or two before, you won't be surprised to hear, and so I figured it was just a matter of a few days before they had to let me go just like they had done before."

"But I suppose it was different this time," Lillie said. 

"Well, yes," Charlie confirmed. "I was right about one thing: I was only held in the gaol for two or three days, though of course it felt like more. Filthy and depressing place, but at least I got a bit to eat without having to steal it. I'd been through all that before and I didn't complain. After all, I knew I'd gotten nothing I didn't deserve, you'll understand. And sure enough, right around the time I was starting to lose track of time, the guard showed up with his key and the usual gleam in his eye. I stood up and waited for him to turn me back out into the street. But instead, as soon as he has the cell door open, he grabs me by the shoulder and drags me down the hall, without a word but to warn me not to cry or I'll be in for it."

"In for what?" Lillie demanded. 

"I had no idea, but I did keep my mouth shut and my eyes dry. Finally we get to the back door of the gaol -- I knew that well enough -- and there are two burly, clean-cut men waiting by the guard's desk. The guard says 'Here he is, fellas,' and I had just enough time to realize he was talking about me before he gave me a shove and I went sprawling into both of them. 'Looks like a scrapper all right,' one of them says, and the other grabs me by the scruff of my neck and says something about what they do to thieves at sea. 'At sea?!' I say -- first time I opened my mouth -- and the guard starts cackling, says that's right, kid, you're the sailors' problem now, not Sauraquid's." 

"I take it you weren't as upset about this as they expected you to be," I ventured.

"That's right," Charlie continued. "The guard's laughing at me and the two sailors are scowling at me and I can see they can't wait for the first chance to beat some sense into me, but all I can think of is, I'm going to sea! I'm out! Off to see the world and no more stealing fish for a living. Absolutely surreal, my friend, when it's the best day of your life and everyone involved thinks it's the worst, I'll tell you. But I did feel bad to be leaving Wendy behind, of course."

"So that was it!" Lillie marvelled. "Just off with you on the ship like that! But you did see Wendy again, you said?"

"Yes. But that was many years later, and only after I learned things I never would have imagined -- and I assure you, Lillie, neither have you. In any event, those two fellows hauled me off to the docks and we set sail that very afternoon. Bound for here, actually, with a load of cotton for the mills at Lancashire. They'd stopped off at Sauraquid to pick up some foodstuffs -- we had the best, with our seafaring lifestyle, after all -- and they were also short a few hands on deck. The gaoler had me in mind for the very purpose, from the moment I was locked up, because that sort of thing happened quite frequently with the ships that were allowed into our harbour."


Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse



"Allowed in," Lillie repeated. She was confused. I wasn't, for I had heard the tales of Sauraquid; but I was mortified at what was about to be revealed to my niece. 

"Lillie, my friend, I have told you of how clean and beautiful Sauraquid is," Charlie began uncertainly. "What I haven't explained, and I can tell from the look on his face that your uncle knows the story, is how it is that Sauraquid has remained so pristine. From the earliest days of its settlement, Sauraquid has been guarded by a peculiar type of guardian angel, generation after generation. Now, I couldn't tell you how their type got their start or their talent, or how they find and train new members of their sisterhood. What I do know is that for centuries now, they have kept undesirable elements out of our island at any cost. Back in the bad old days of slavery, no slave ship that ventured near our shores arrived at its destination intact. They'd be smashed on the rocks, their tragic cargo rescued and given shelter while the crew drowned, and one way or another they would provide the captives with safe passage to somewhere they would be treated like the human beings they were. I don't know how the women of the island did it, but they did! And as the industrialization took hold on the mainland, the women of whom I speak turned their attention to keeping the pollution and its aftereffects away by the same methods. Whaling ships, too -- their days of slaughter came to an end if they ventured too close to Sauraquid. Only vessels that carried necessary supplies and harmed as few as possible were allowed safe passage into our harbour." 

"I see," said Lillie, though I was painfully aware that she did not. "In any case, then, was the sea all you had hoped for on that first voyage, Charlie?"

"That and more! Now, I won't lie to you, those first days and nights were not pleasant. Besides the seasickness and the shock of adjusting to the close, dirty quarters and the pervasive dampness, there was also the acute awareness that I had been forced into my new job, even if it was a great improvement over my old lot in life. But it was a great improvement, and by the time we arrived in England I had my sea legs to keep."

"And that is how the story ends, I take it?" I still harboured some hope that we could curtail the discussion there, or at least steer it into less salacious waters. 

But Lillie was having none of that. "I rather suspect that is only where it begins, Uncle Edmund! Am I right, Charlie?"

"That you are," Charlie confirmed. "We arrived here, and I was young but experienced beyond my years. I had little trouble finding an apprenticeship on a bigger ship -- one bound for India this time -- and another after that and so forth. For the next ten years and more, I put in at ports all over the world, on every sort of ship and with every sort of cargo. Some that would have been allowed passage back in Sauraquid, and some that wouldn't, though I was not aware of that at the time."

"You didn't know about these guardian angels of yours?" Lillie asked. 

"I had heard tales of them," Charlie explained. "Everyone in Sauraquid hears the legends of the ladies who guard our shores. But recall that I was very young and had never left Sauraquid. As I grew up at sea and came to know some of the more unsavoury elements of that life, slowly it dawned on me. All those tales of shipwrecks, but only of a certain type of ship while others arrived safe and sound in the worst of storms...even an uneducated imp like me was able to put the pieces together. Now, I won't lie to you and say I had any scruples about taking a job on a ship with filthy industrial waste or any other undesirable cargo -- a living is a living and all that -- but I did learn to be careful to never take such a job if the ship was due to sail anywhere near Sauraquid. I warned the captains I admired against as much, too, but few of them listened. 'Lies and legends, I tells ya!', that was the sort of thing they always said in reply, and many of them paid with their lives."

"These guardian angels," Lillie mused. "They were sirens, is that it? Like those we read of in Homer?"

"Much like that," Charlie said. "But again, I didn't know at the time. All I knew was that no ship that carried any danger for our environment had ever made it through to Sauraquid. That was all I needed to know to keep me clear of such a situation. Until one day when I took a job with a whaler out of New York."

"Why would you do that, then?" Lillie was more immersed than ever in the yarn, and truth be told, so was I.

"I'd been told we were southbound," Charlie said. "Safely away from the horrors a whaler could expect in Sauraquid! But the captain was young and inexperienced, and we got blown off course in a storm. That brought my unplanned homecoming to Sauraquid, and, is where the part of the story you're so eager to hear truly begins." 

The fat drops of midsummer rain pelted the rocky coastline just beyond the tavern window, and the lovely view up the beach was but a pleasant memory. This was a blessing in disguise for Peggy and her girls, as the nasty weather always meant more business for them. That day was no exception: frustrated sailors and fishermen filled the rickety old red building just above the waterline to drink away their unwelcome vacation from the sea. Loud, rude, argumentative and far too aggressive with the barmaids, they at least offered up a fortune in coin for all their trouble. As the grey afternoon finally began to fade away into evening, the orgy of loud voices and wandering hands showed no sign of abating. 

Peggy, tall and buxom and sporting a face as weatherbeaten as any sailor beneath her thick raven-black curls, was able to take advantage of her seniority on a day like this and stay behind the bar. As usual, she had done so for the most part, although she had little fear of being groped on the occasion when she did step out: all but the newest of her patrons knew Peggy could hit as hard as any man and would see to it that they were not welcome back in the liveliest watering hole on the fair isle of Sauraquid. Nevertheless, standing back to watch her younger charges learn to fight their own battles was much easier and more enjoyable. The girls were at varying stages of their education that day. Josephine, with her irresistible red hair, was the newest charge on duty, and it showed: a brush on her bottom or even her breast was met with a flirtatious laugh and only the gentlest of reproofs, and an attractive suitor even got an occasional stroke in return. Indeed, at that very moment, her inimitable giggle caught Peggy's attention from the corner by the door, as Josephine sensed a stray hand on her leg and responded by hiking up her skirt for an impromptu jig, just after sloshing her pursuer's beer onto his shirt. Peggy allowed this, but made a mental note to warn Josephine that she was inviting trouble if she did not soon establish boundaries with the men.

She had never had to issue that warning with Gwendolyn, who now had her hands full with the tables nearest the bar. Hoots and whistles were tolerated, but the first unwelcome hand on her breast -- nearly two years ago now -- had landed its owner with a fat ear and a pint of lager in his hair. There were now regulars whose first visit had come after that incident who knew to keep their hands off Gwendolyn unless she invited otherwise. Which she did sometimes, but only on her own time and her own terms. Today, from what Peggy could see, she hadn't, and her men were rowdy but behaved. 

Annie, with her pale blonde ringlets and a bosom that rivaled Peggy's, had been a tough lesson at first. Fresh off the farm when she had first arrived at Peggy's door in search of work, she had welcomed and returned nearly all the abundant attention paid her in her early days. Peggy had been forced to warn her not to be too welcoming with her patrons, and the warning had been largely ineffective at first. Then one evening, an especially drunk mate on a dare had lured her onto his lap and reached clumsily for Annie's ultimate treasure. An all-out brawl had followed, with Annie tearfully reassuring Peggy when it was all over that she had learned her lesson. Indeed she had, Peggy knew, though she was very much aware of Annie flashing a knowing grin at certain of the patrons every now and again. 

Peggy was hardly in a position to criticize Annie for that, and neither, she suspected, were the other girls. And so she allowed them all to do as they wished when their aprons were hung up behind the counter, so long as a modicum of order was kept in the tavern. 

That had seemed a rather tall order on this rainy summer afternoon; but Peggy had been pleasantly surprised at her charges' performance. As the sun went down -- or would have gone down had it been anywhere in sight to begin with -- she began to allow herself the possibility of leaving Gwendolyn in charge and taking her leave. With that thought in mind, she let herself out from behind the bar and made her way across the crowded floor to Gwendolyn. Lusty greetings met with her every step. "Peggy! Join us for a round!" "Marry me this week? Just 'cause you said no last week don't mean nothing!" "How's about a kiss just this once?" She smiled her acknowledgment and said nothing per usual, for she had learned decades before the hazards of encouraging such commentary. 

Gwendolyn was busy mopping off the only vacant table in the house when Peggy arrived. "Are you feeling up to taking the reins, darling?" Peggy asked her. 

"Of course," Gwendolyn said. "But are you sure you want to go outdoors in this rain? You should have to swim home!"

That admonition would have garnered a knowing belly laugh had it come from Annie or Josephine, for Peggy had found them suitable for sharing in (and, one day, taking over) the tradition of Sauraquid's protectors and their life out among the shoals of Martin's Isle. Gwendolyn, though, was not fit for that life and did not know where Peggy went after hours. A pity, really, given that Gwendolyn alone among the girls had suffered exposure to the dirty factories back on the mainland. She knew what was at stake in the neverending battle and she had the ruthless street smarts to fight that battle. But those years in the factories had killed something in Gwendolyn that was necessary for their way of life, Peggy had sensed that from the very beginning, and so Gwendolyn alone was a barmaid first and last. 

"It should be well worth my freedom from all this," Peggy reassured Gwendolyn now with a serious face that she struggled to keep.

"Very well, then, I shall see you on the morrow?" Gwendolyn asked. 

"Yes, we are both on duty," Peggy replied. "Best of luck with the gentlemen here."

Though Peggy loved her work, she was gratified at the fading away of the celebratory voices as she shut the door to the tavern's back office. Free at last, and after all those hours of watching the copious rain while stranded behind the counter, the ocean would feel delightful to her tonight. It would be a rather lonely evening, for none of the gentlemen were appropriate to her mood and the tavern remained much too crowded to spare Annie or Josephine, that much she knew. Peggy reminded herself once again that she must find more young ladies to welcome into her sanctum, as she was the last remaining one of her generation who remained suited to life on out beyond the lighthouse and had not given in to the allure of the land or the sea.

But for that same reason, Peggy had long ago learned to appreciate solitude, and tonight was as good a night as any for that. After a quick look to ensure that Gwendolyn was still out front and would not stumble upon the others' secret, she opened the hidden door to the tiny cellar and flipped on the light inside. With the door locked safely behind her, she stepped down to the muddy floor, kicked her boots off, and set them on a shelf just below the ceiling. Then, in one quick and eager motion, she pulled her dress up over her head and bundled it up to stash in the overhead locker. It would be safe and dry in the morning, no matter how the tide might rise tonight; even the eldest of her foremothers had never been able to recall a time when the water had reached that high. Next, Peggy reached back and untied the kerchief in which she kept her breasts bound all day long -- necessary for keeping the men in line, but terribly confining and uncomfortable once the day was done -- and let them fall free while she stuffed the kerchief in alongside her dress. 

Unencumbered at last, Peggy splashed down the steps into the chilly water, which soon felt comfortably warm against her sea-friendly body as usual. The door into the ocean was fully submerged that evening, as it always was during such a heavy rain, so Peggy did not have her luxury of a last deep breath before she dove beneath the surface. But thanks to decades of life out on Martin's Isle, she was well-versed in working the old latch under the water; and in a matter of moments she was free and away in her beloved salty water. 

The big, cold raindrops pelted her mercilessly every time Peggy came up for air. But that only added to her joy at being homeward bound, for the weather was always balmy on Martin's Isle. No matter how bracing the water or how forbidding the sky during the swim out to the lighthouse, it was but a question of turning due west just past the tiny island and diving into the water as far as her lungs could stand it. Coming up for air, she would see the inviting coastline in the sun and her majestic home of nearly three decades by then. It remained just as beautiful and irresistible now as it had been just past her eighteenth birthday when old Patricia Kelly -- now buried alongside the other lost sisters on the easternmost reach of Martin's Isle, perpetually seeking out the morning sun -- had enticed her into the water on a rainy afternoon with a promise of incomparable beauty and importance if she proved to be among the chosen ones. "You'll live a life of tremendous importance and unique joy, Peggy, if you are able to find our island," the old woman had said, "And I believe you have the spirit to do it."

And she had. How she had!

No one, not even Peggy, knew the why or the how of Martin's Isle and its perpetually idyllic weather. Though the library in the spacious home she now shared with Annie and Josephine contained records of the sisterhood dating back to Sarah Martin's arrival there in the mid-seventeenth century, there were certain things no one was ever to know. How it was that the weather remained warm throughout the year and rain was seldom, or why certain of the women of Sauraquid were capable of the long swim out beyond the lighthouse whereas even had their mothers not been, or what sort of supernatural telescopic vision enabled them to identify the wares and intentions of the passing ships and ensure the safe passage of those on a noble mission, how Sarah Martin had discovered it all...even Sarah Martin herself had by all accounts been unaware of how it had all worked, nor had she ever told anyone what had first drawn her so far out into the sea. But she had started a tradition that had managed to keep Sauraquid free of most of the ugliness of modern life for over two hundred and fifty years by then, and Peggy had played her part in carrying on the tradition through some lean years when few women proved to be up to the challenge. 

But such things did not weigh heavily on Peggy's mind as she swam into the shallow warm water and then waded the last bit onto the welcoming, unspoiled beach. After the horrid weather back on Sauraquid, she could not have cared less just why she had been so lucky in this lifetime. All that mattered was that she was home on her lush green island. The house -- home to countless generations of chosen women -- stood just yards off the beach, amidst a cluster of trees that were fluttering gently in the warm ocean breeze. A refreshing fruity drink and a book awaited her inside...but as Peggy swept out of the tide, the telltale chimes on the north side of the house let her know there was work to be done first. 

Peggy did not begrudge that duty -- with great fortune came great responsibility, after all, and she loved being among the guardians of Sauraquid. And so, with no pause this time to let the sun dry her bare skin, Peggy ambled up the beach and then along the mossy path to the north side lookout. The lush undergrowth shielding her body from view until such time as it would be necessary to put herself on display, she stopped just before the edge of the woods and peered into the ancient prism that looked out upon the sea. Once again she saw several miles beyond the view of the naked eye into the choppy, storm-ridden seas she had herself just braved. 

It took a few minutes, but the ship whose presence the chimes had predicted came tossing into view among the waves soon enough. Bouncing about like a toy in a jarred barrel, it looked ready to burst into a dozen pieces at the next harsh wave. Peggy saw little chance that the ship, whatever its cargo, would reach Sauraquid Harbour in one piece. That meant Peggy had a decision to make, and very little time in which to make it. Drawing a deep breath as the potential gravity of the situation once again set in, she squinted and stared harder into the prism. Through the sheets of rain, focusing first on the ship's deck, and then slowly but surely guiding her vision below, adjusting to the darkness of the hold...she saw crates, bulging with a variety of shapes and colours. Straining harder, she made out the colours: orange, yellow, green...tropical fruits! A welcome and healthy option for the restaurants and kitchens of the ship's destination, they mustn't be lost! 

And so Peggy did not have a moment to lose, either. She sprang to the ancient mirror contraption that had served the women of Martin's Isle so well for so many decades. Hurling all her strength into it, she turned the crank to set the mirror at just the right angle for a ship in their position to see the trick of the light that would reveal the safe harbour awaiting the ship and its men. A less-experienced woman would have required several seconds to determine the correct angle; but Peggy, with her decades of experience, required no time at all to calculate the position in her head. With that position attained, she leaned back against the tree trunk and heaved a sigh of relief while keeping an eye on the ship.

She could not see what happened aboard the ship, of course, but she knew what was to happen now. The lookout, pelted by rain and threatening waves in every direction, would suddenly spy Martin's Isle, though it appeared on no map. Safe and calm, it would be their only possible option for the moment. The captain would be notified and would give the order, and the ship would steer in Peggy's direction any second now. Once she was sure of its approach, Peggy would make a run for the house so that she could present herself to the captain while dressed appropriately. But she daren't do that until she was certain the ship had steered in her direction, for sometimes a stubborn captain required additional enticement. 

Regrettably, this proved to be one such ship. For five long seconds, Peggy anticipated the signs she knew so well of a ship steering towards the open arms of her harbour. The anticipation was in vain, however, and all at once Peggy was aware that the ship suffered from a noble but misguided captain who overestimated his ability to negotiate the choppy waters ahead. Drastic measures would, alas, be necessary.

At least, Peggy thought as she reluctantly stepped out of her hiding place, a captain who thinks that way is probably younger and cuter than most of them. Just as well now that she had not opted to welcome any of the men at the café home with her tonight!




Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse



Embarrassed, but contenting herself with the thought that her embarrassment would likely save the life of every man on the ship, Peggy stepped out onto the beach. Tamping down her instinct to cover any part of her body, she stood brazenly nude on the sand and waved smiling at the spyglass she could not see, but that she knew was there. She could only imagine the hoots and vulgarities inspired by her body and the horrid things many of the sailors would no doubt wish to do to her in that moment...but the indignity paid off. As she stood there waving at the ship, she was soon joyfully aware of the first signs that it was steering towards her and out of danger. 

Tempting though it was to retreat into the house once she was sure of the ship's approach, Peggy dared not do it. Her foremothers had warned her that such actions had, in the past, resulted in ships turning back into the storm and being lost. And so she stood her ground, waiting for the ship to arrive. As for what to do should it send several men ashore, Peggy would cross that bridge when she came to it. It was nothing she had not endured in the past, and thanks to years of practice fending off the men at the café, she had always come out on top. 

As the ship drew near, Peggy was acutely aware of the vulgar noises she had imagined all along; now they were all too real. No surprise, really, she thought sadly while keeping her welcoming smile pasted to her face. As the ship drew as close in to the beach as it could, she saw a rowboat being lowered; to her relief, it appeared to contain only the captain and two rowers. The older man sitting up straight in the boat did not look amused as he approached the shore; but neither did he look unappreciative of Peggy, she thought. She knew this type well enough after all these years. 

"Madam, what in the hell is the meaning of all this?!" he demanded of Peggy even before clambering out of the boat to wade through the last several feet of water onto the beach. "How on earth is a captain supposed to manage a ship full of men who haven't been near a woman in months with a show like this on the shore?!" Though sounding angry and looking hungry, he kept a respectful distance and tried -- but failed -- to look Peggy only in the eye as he addressed her. 

"He isn't, Captain," Peggy replied. "And that is why I have enticed you to Martin's Isle. Welcome. You may stay here, and your crew safe in the harbour, until the storm has passed."

"Storm?!" the captain demanded. "Do you think I am not capable of sailing to Sauraquid from here? It is but one hour if that!"

"I do not think you are incapable, Captain. I know you are. You needn't ask why, for I assure you a man would never understand. Besides, if you have been at sea for as long as you claim, surely you have heard of Martin's Isle by now, and our purpose in luring you to safe harbour?"

"Martin's Isle!" The captain spat out the words like they tasted bad, though Peggy noticed that his two subordinates in the boat exchanged knowing looks, before quickly refocusing their attention on her body. "Bloody myth! Heard it all my life, but no man has ever actually been there! Yes, I've heard the stories, how you give safe passage to those ships with wholesome cargo aboard and keep away the unsavoury ones. But never from anyone who has ever been there!"

"Been here," Peggy corrected. "And you have never heard from those who have been here because those who have experienced our charms would prefer to keep it all to themselves. Surely you can appreciate that, captain; look around! Compared to the squall from which I only just saved you, do you see anything here that you would ever want to share with another?"

The captain at last averted his hungry eyes from Peggy and surveyed the lovely summer sunset over the quiet beach and the trees swaying gently in the breeze. "Well," he considered, "No. No I would not. And I suppose you are going to tell me that is why your little island is on no map I have ever seen in my lifetime at sea?"

"Quite right," Peggy confirmed. "And now, let me ask you, in your lifetime at sea, have you heard of any captain of what you just called 'an unsavoury ship' sailing in to Sauraquid successfully?"

The captain's face softened as he considered the question. "It is a fool who tries," he admitted, "and all those I know who have been so foolhardy have indeed paid with their lives."

Peggy gestured to the house. "In that case, Captain, welcome to Martin's Isle. You are welcome to dine with me."

"What of my men?" He tried, but once again failed, to sound conciliatory on the matter.

"There are but one of me and two of my sisters in arms at this time," Peggy said. "We only have so many foodstuffs, and as for other favours, Captain, that depends on your attitude and that of your men. But if you desire to bring a few of your officers ashore, I can provide a meal in any event."

"Dear God, Charlie!" Lillie exclaimed, and I had little doubt she had been struggling to keep her prurient curiosity to herself for some time. "Are you saying the ladies of Martin's Isle kept Sauraquid pristine by sleeping with the captains they approved of and drowning those they did not?"

"Not necessarily," Charlie clarified. "They did what they could to assure safe passage for the good ships and to deter the bad ships. Very often, though, that did mean using their feminine charms to draw the captain onto land in the one case or to steer the ships off course in the other. Surely, my dear, you would agree the ends justify the means."

"I'm not certain," Lillie said, and I dearly hoped that would be the end of her fascination with Sauraquid. Alas it was not, for she promptly added, "Am I to guess you were on this ship with the tropical fruit, Charlie? Is that how you learned the secrets of Sauraquid?"

"Wish I were, Lillie, but the answer is no," Charlie continued. "I heard of that voyage from a disgruntled mate who was invited to dinner that evening but talked himself out of anything beyond a meal. As you will see, not just any man who came to Martin's Isle was treated to Peggy's favours. Those who were, wisely kept the secret to themselves, but the less gentlemanly among them who were turned back to the ship, their bitterness ensured that Martin's Isle wasn't the absolute secret the ladies would have liked."

"And one of the gentlemen the captain invited ashore that evening..." Lillie began. A strong glance from me and her voice trailed away. 

"Was no gentleman," Charlie confirmed. 

Back in Sauraquid, the storm had only worsened. The late shift staff arrived nary a moment too late for Annie, Josephine and Gwendolyn. Peggy had had the presence of mind to hire male bartenders for the late hours when the drinking truly began to get out of control. And all three girls eagerly awaited the arrival of Robert and James as the rain pelted harder than ever outside and the men grew rowdier by the minute inside. 

James was the first to arrive, soaked to the skin from the walk down the beach road. "Heavens, it's absolutely out of control out there!" he told the ladies as he arrived behind the counter to take over. "Begging your pardon, give me a moment to dry off." He picked up a towel from behind the counter and ran it through his wavy hair. 

"Take all the time you like for that," Annie said, shamelessly admiring his well-developed chest and arms under the shiny wet cloth of his shirt. 

"I know what you mean, Annie," Josephine added. "James, you'll have a job to keep everyone in line tonight. Chances are good you'll get wet with beer sooner or later anyhow."

"So what else is new?" James asked with a grin. "That's why I took this damn job, now isn't it?"

Gwendolyn, as usual, was quieter in her admiration of James' physique. She was also mildly jealous of Annie and Josephine and the way they always disappeared together at the end of the shift. She had learned not to comment on such things, as they only brought trouble. But tonight, in the miserable weather, trouble was looking preferable to going back to her bedsit alone when there was companionship to be had. And so at just the moment when she sensed Annie and Josephine to be tearing their attention away from James, she slipped off into the back office and put on her brightest smile, vowing not to be turned down this time. 

A moment later, they both appeared in the doorway, laughing at some pleasantry or other and clearly not expecting Gwendolyn to still be there. "Hey!" Gwendolyn said cheerfully, drawing a startled look from them both. "Listen, I'm dying for some fun after that shift. What do you say we all go get a pint for a change, and something to eat besides?"

"Um..." Annie stammered, looking at Josephine.

"Gwen, that's very sweet of you, thank you!" Josephine said. "But I'm afraid we cannot. Prior commitments, you know."

"Haven't you always got prior commitments!" Gwendolyn tried to hide her frustration, but could not do so entirely. "What could you possibly have to do in this weather anyway?"

"We're not at liberty to say," Annie recited the line Peggy had always told her to use if absolutely necessary. 

"Sorry, Gwen, but she's right," Josephine said. "See you tomorrow, I suppose?"

"Right." Gwendolyn turned and opened the back door without another word. But the blast of rain in her face just renewed her resolve, and all at once she got an idea. Gathering up her skirts, she ran around the building to the front door, and burst back inside. Ignoring the hoots and catcalls from the men, she waded through the crowd and behind the counter again, James never noticing her as he was busy taking orders, and peered into the back office through the window in the door. 

Annie and Josephine were still there. To Gwendolyn's titillation, they were both stark naked as well, folding their dresses just as matter-of-factly as pouring a beer. As she spied on them, they each walked down the stairs to the cellar. Gwendolyn knew when the cellar door had shut behind them, as it caused the door hiding her to puff out a bit. On that signal, Gwendolyn rushed into the office and stooped down to look down the stairs to the cellar. She arrived just in time to see Josephine kicking off into the water. 

Gwendolyn was shocked for a moment, but then she recalled the rumour all little girls from Sauraquid had heard one time or another. The ladies of the lighthouse. Could Annie and Josephine be among them? It would explain so very much! All at once, Gwendolyn resolved to find out. She stood up and tore off her dress, not caring in the least if James or Robert should happen to burst in, and bounded down the steps. Finding the shelves where the others had left their clothes, she shoved the wadded-up garment in, opened the door and splashed out into the cold water just in time to catch a glimpse of Annie or Josephine -- she couldn't hope to tell which -- paddling away off to her right. Taking a deep breath, Gwendolyn plunged in after them. 

She had heard many stories of the ladies of the lighthouse, and in those moments she could only hope some of them were true and some weren't. It was said that a woman could only know she was a Lady of the Lighthouse by attempting to swim out there during a squall. It was said many had tried and failed. Some said none who failed had ever been heard from again, others said one or two had returned but had gone mad and spent the rest of their days in an asylum somewhere on the mainland. Still others said there was no need to try: the ladies could sense their own kind and would issue invitations when the time was right. All were agreed, though, that the secret to the sisterhood was reaching the lighthouse and finding the weather clear there. The way to Martin's Isle would be clear, and the swimming smooth. 

No one seemed to know just where Martin's Isle actually was -- it was simply "somewhere beyond the lighthouse" -- but legend had it a woman who arrived safely on the far side of the lighthouse would be able to find it by some instinct. Gwendolyn told herself this again and again as she gasped for breath and held up her head to look for the lighthouse in the gray rain. Though she soon lost any sign of Annie or Josephine, after several minutes of intense struggle she found she was on a course for the lighthouse, and it was getting a bit clearer to her with every time she raised her head. As its presence grew, so did Gwendolyn's confidence; soon she was exhausted but happy as she realized she was going to make it. 

That happiness turned to fear when she at last looked up to find the tower larger than life just ahead. Close enough to feel like a strong wave could bash her into the building, she found she had no idea what to do next, and now it occurred to her that if the way did not present itself, she would soon be marooned naked on the tiny deserted island in the rain. Putting that from her mind out of sheer survival instinct, Gwendolyn paddled on, stroking as hard and fast as she could past the ominous shadow, and forced her fear and panic down. She pushed down so hard on her emotions that the first glint of golden light did not register with her. Only the memory of its joy made itself known as she scooped at the water. But that memory made her hold her head up and take a closer look, and at once she was wonderfully aware of a wedge of sunshine amidst the sheets of rain. With a whoop of joy and a deep breath, Gwendolyn took a deep breath and plunged back into the water, and swam like a demon towards the vision. 

She cut through the water until her lungs felt ready to burst, and slowly she burbled out the air, still not surfacing until she had exhaled completely. Then she made a hopeful jaunt for the surface, and burst into a calm warm sunset with fair seas in every direction. Disbelief mingling seamlessly with delight, she was somehow aware of land off to her right, and once again she set about swimming as her elusive sense told her to. 

The captain returned to shore with his two chosen mates after roughly half an hour. He had ordered them to don their finest for the occasion, and upon his arrival in the island's only house he was slightly disappointed but not surprised to find Peggy no longer nude, but now swathed in a colourful gown to match the lovely surroundings. "Welcome to Martin's Isle, gentlemen," she said with a broad smile and a wave of her arm. "Dinner is served inside, and my two sisters in arms will be joining us shortly."

The captain turned back to his two waiting men and issued a gruff order, which was swiftly acknowledged; and Peggy turned and bade them follow her into the house. Inside, she led them to the sitting room, where there were three rum drinks waiting on the table. "Dinner shall be but the work of a few minutes," she told them.

"You can make dinner on your own with no hired help?" The captain was understandably incredulous. 

"There is a great deal my ladies and I can do on our own here," Peggy admonished him as she disappeared into the kitchen. "I could no more explain it than you could teach me how to sail your ship." She ducked into the pantry for her always-prepared stocks, and in a matter of minutes there was stew in the pot and bread in the brick oven. 

"I don't suppose you know how she did that, Charlie!" Lillie interjected. "I'm dying to know!"

"As am I, my friend, but I have no earthly idea," Charlie said. "Hardly the only magical thing about that island, though."

Just as dinner was nearly ready, Peggy heard the clatter of Annie and Josephine arriving by the back door. Most of the ladies of Martin's Isle, including Peggy herself, had suffered the indignity of arriving naked and wet from the sea at the front door while there were men awaiting their dinner; once that lesson was learned, they kept their eyes out for a boat on the beach and, if it was present, they crept around the house to the back. Both Annie and Josephine had long since been through that as well, and so Peggy had no need to advise them to dress for dinner. 

Indeed, when she emerged with bread for the men, she found them both chatting amicably with the captain's younger companions. Annie had helped herself to the palest and thinnest of the lot, while Josephine was taken with the dark haired gentleman with the moustache, for whom Peggy had harboured great hopes. There would, of course, be words about this with Josephine later; but for now, Peggy remembered to smile and make formal introductions. "I see you have met Annie and Josephine," she said, setting down the plate. 

"Yes, Peggy, and have you met Jamison and Raddler?" Annie cooed, looking in the eyes of her companion -- Raddler, evidently -- rather than at Peggy. 

"I have now," Peggy said. "And Captain..."

"Burgess," said the captain with a polite nod. "I don't suppose we were quite properly introduced before."

"Well now, I wasn't dressed formally enough for that, now was I?" Peggy chirped. 

"Wasn't dressed at all, I heard," grumbled Jamison. Obviously not the sharpest hand on deck, Peggy realized. 

"I do believe she was joking, Jamison," advised Burgess. To the women he explained, "You'll have to pardon my first mate. Hell of a sailor, he is, but things tend to go over his head."

"I'm only trying to run a tight ship, sir," Jamison said, once again without a hint of appreciation for Josephine's gentle caresses. Once Peggy had set the bread down before them, he leaned over and grabbed at a great hunk of it. "Certainly grateful for the food, you know, but I quite frankly voted for staying on board. We could've made it through that storm."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Josephine said, patting his shoulder. "Take it from us, we've seen an awful lot of ships that didn't make it when their crew were sure they could."

Jamison whipped around and pulled Josephine's hand away. "Now, look here! I'm as true a lover of your sex as you're going to find anywhere, but I take no advice from any woman! I went to sea for that very reason! You're no sailor, and I'll thank you very much to sticking to what a lady does best. Speaking of which, Captain, I'd just as soon skip dinner and go straight for dessert!" With that, he made a salacious grab at Josephine, who looked revolted and shocked at his attitude; even the worst of the drunks at the inn had never spoken to her like that. 

"Jamison!" screeched Burgess, leaping to his feet. "One more word out of you and I'll see you court martialled for insubordination! These fine ladies have offered us dinner and a night in safe harbour and the sweetest of their favours, and I shan't have you treating them so disrespectfully!" After a moment's silent glare, he pointed at the door. "You may sleep in the rowboat or on the beach. I have it on good authority the weather here is suitable for that." 

"But Captain!" Jamison's horrified face betrayed his realisation of all that he had just cost himself with his mouth. 

"Out!" 

Jamison had no choice but to comply, and the ladies all looked away in discomfort as he took his leave. Once the door had slammed behind him, dinner proceeded as planned. 

Jamison, of course, had no option but to do as he had been directed and wait out his sentence on the beach. He had only just sat down to sulk when Gwendolyn arrived triumphantly in the shallow water. Looking around at the paradise she somehow knew was Martin's Isle for the first time, she was at once horrifyingly aware of the sailor's presence only yards up the shore, sitting in the sand with his head in his hands. By some miracle he had not taken any notice of her; Gwendolyn did her best to keep it that way by walking briskly off in the other direction, into the woods behind the house. 

Although elated at her success, Gwendolyn now found herself acutely aware that she was naked and alone on an unfamiliar island with no way to get home. As she stood a respectable distance from the house, safely out of view of the man on the beach, she listened for some clue that Josephine or Annie were about. What she did hear was even more of a relief than that: Peggy's roaring laugh (likely in response to a bawdy joke of the Captain's) wafting from the house. If Peggy was inside, surely she would be welcome as well! Needing no further prompting, Gwendolyn picked her way through the grass on her bare feet and knocked gently at the back door. 




Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse



Although she could clearly hear Peggy, Josephine and Annie's voices inside, intermingled with two male voices she did not recognize, her knocks received no response. The lively conversation meant they didn't hear her, Gwendolyn realized quickly. The presence of the two men, of course, meant going to the front door was out of the question in her state of undress. Concluding that all would be forgiven, Gwendolyn opened the door and stepped inside. 

Avoiding the direction of the conversation, Gwendolyn crept down the hall. At the end, she found a room with four single beds and a wash-basin with just enough water to rinse off her dirty feet. Once that was done, there was little else for her to do but sleep, as there was no sign of any clothing to be had anywhere in the room. Of course, Gwendolyn was exhausted after her long swim anyway, and was more than content to lie down until Peggy or the others discovered her. 

That was not to be for some time, for after dinner, Peggy invited Burgess and Raddler upstairs to the guest bedrooms, where she joined the captain and Josephine and Annie joined Raddler.

"Charlie, I have got to protest here!" I interrupted then. "I am certain this Mr. Raddler had a delightful evening, but surely you would agree it is totally inappropriate for Lillie to hear of what transpired!"

"Good heavens, Uncle Edmund, do you think I'm a nun?!" Lillie demanded. 

"Well, in any event, I don't know just what happened upstairs," Edmund reassured me. "I could certainly guess, but I rather suspect your niece can as well."

"And how!" Lillie remarked. "I can just imagine what sort Peggy was in bed, as well, a woman of that age and experience!"

"Lillie!" I exclaimed. 

"Do you think you are the only one who ever bristled under the yoke of your brother, Uncle Edmund?" she replied. "You're younger and more open minded than he is; surely you don't expect me to be a prim lady like he does."

I had to admit that I did not. 

"Shall I stop, then?" Charlie asked us.

I began to suggest that perhaps he should, but Lillie exclaimed, "No! I want to hear all about this Martin's Isle! And if I might be so bold, I am not above hearing more about Peggy."

"Well," Charlie said. "I rather suspect you are correct about her prowess in the bedroom. I myself can only offer a secondhand account of a secondhand account, from Annie and Josephine. They, of course, had a great deal of experience in overhearing Peggy from the next room while they were otherwise occupied, so they knew she was capable of some wonderfully intense responses, and also of eliciting the same from any man she took to her bed. What nearly always happened was that she would end up with the least senior man in the party -- this particular night was an exception in that regard, of course -- who could only try to hide his regret at being paired off with the oldest of the women. 

"Annie and Josephine would inevitably catch the young man gazing longingly at them as Peggy led him upstairs. Their own expressions were frequently tinged with jealousy of Peggy as he was often the most attractive of the bunch; but they felt more amusement than pity for the young man himself. They, having seen Peggy in the nude countless times, knew how wonderfully healthy and fit she was for her age, how beautiful she still was underneath, and most of all how well-practiced she was at the art of pleasure for both a man and herself in the bedroom. Many was the time Annie or Josephine would wind up with the captain, who would let slip a comment about what a lucky dog his junior officer was as the sound of their lovemaking wafted next door. 

"Of course, on this occasion, the Captain ended up with Peggy. As for Annie and Josephine, Jamison's poor attitude meant they had to either share Mr. Raddler or choose one or the other of them to have no fun at all that night. Little doubt that Raddler was elated, but I couldn't tell you what they thought of him."

"I can just imagine him fumbling about, wondering just how he was to handle two women after never seeing one for all those weeks at sea," Lillie mused. 

"I rather doubt he had much trouble learning," Charlie said. "What I do wonder is if he envied his captain at all, as I do have it on good authority that Peggy could out-shriek Josephine and Annie combined. The grass is always greener, I suppose."

"Oh, to be a woman like Peggy!" Lillie said, to my horror. "Just imagine being that worldly-wise and self-assured, and so talented in private as well!"

"Lillie, don't you ever let me hear you repeat those words to either of your parents," I warned.

"Do you really believe I am so stupid as to do that, Uncle Edmund?" Lillie retorted. "But they cannot stop me from imagining such a future for myself, and neither can you!" 

"In any event," Charlie interjected, "I know nothing about exactly what occurred in either bedroom that night. What I do know, though, is what happened the next morning after Burgess and Raddler had been sent safely on their way."

"The fruit arrived safely in Sauraquid, then," I offered drily. 

"That's not what he means and you know it!" Lillie protested. 

Gwendolyn awoke from the most profoundly refreshing sleep she had enjoyed since her days on the mainland. Terrified for the moment that last night's wonderful discovery had been but a dream, she was overcome with relief when she realized she was still in the sparse room she had discovered the night before. Then she was overcome with fear when she realized three people were standing over her bed, and once again with relief when she realized the three people were Peggy, Annie and Josephine. 

"Extraordinary," Peggy murmured. 

"Hello, Gwendolyn," Annie said. "Why didn't you tell us you were one of ours?"

"She didn't know," Josephine said. "You didn't, did you, Gwendolyn?"

"Didn't know what?" Gwendolyn asked, sitting up. The sheets fell down, exposing her breasts; she quickly grabbed them back up to preserve her modesty in spite of all that had occurred the night before. 

"In all my years on Martin's Isle, I have never heard of any woman being overlooked," Peggy said. "Certainly I have never been wrong like this until now. How absolutely wonderful."

"I'm glad to hear you feel that way, Peggy," Gwendolyn said. "But just what were you wrong about?"

"Your ability to find Martin's Isle," Peggy said. "When you arrived back on Sauraquid -- well, forgive me, Gwendolyn, but I remember you from your childhood and you were not the most upstanding young citizen of our island, you know; perhaps I simply didn't want to see you had the gift. What I thought, though, was that the soul-crushing experiences you had endured in the mills had killed something in you, if indeed it had ever been there to begin with."

"Those years killed plenty inside me," Gwendolyn allowed. To Annie and Josephine she added, "So this is where you were going all those times you couldn't join me after work?"

"I'm afraid so," Annie said.

"Sorry!" Josephine added. 

"They didn't know any more than I did," Peggy reassured her. "And it is a secret that must be kept."

"It's hardly a secret!" Gwendolyn protested. "I've known all my life about Martin's Isle. I mean, no one knows for certain that it's real, but we all know the story of it!"

"Yes, exactly," Peggy said. "No one knows it's real but us, and no one back on Sauraquid knows who we are. And it must remain that way. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Gwendolyn took in the enormity of what was now before her. "So it is now my job to guide good sailors out of danger and bad ones into it, and go to bed with them if necessary to make it happen?"

"Well," Annie began, "We wouldn't phrase it quite like that, but..."

"But yes," Josephine finished. "It's not half as bad as it sounds. This young man we were with last night, he --"

"Josephine, you know the rules!" Peggy admonished her. Turning back to Gwendolyn, she added, "She is correct, though. It may sound unpleasant at first blush, but it's a wonderful way to live."

"But what about the sailors on the ships we don't like? They're not all evil, are they?"

"There will be casualties in war, Gwendolyn," Peggy said. "Now get out of bed and join us in the front room. It's time you had something to eat, I imagine."

"Then I'm not in any trouble?" Gwendolyn was still feeling rather wary, and was also now excruciatingly aware that she was naked under the sheets.

"Darling, no!" Peggy reassured her, and she bent down and took Gwendolyn in her arms. "We're delighted to learn you're one of us! But it is best that you understand this blessing of yours comes with certain responsibilities. If you aren't willing to accept those...but then, I know of no one who wasn't, once she realized just what a gift our lot is."

"You'll have to cosy up to some men who've been at sea for months," Annie warned. "They haven't had a bath or been near a woman in that time, and they smell and act like it. But you'll be saving their lives and dozens of others."

"And also help kill any man with the rotten luck to be shipping cargo we don't approve of." As it all sank in, Gwendolyn was beginning to wish she had remained ignorant of her gift.

"Gwendolyn," Peggy said with a firm tone usually reserved for when one of the girls had whipped up the men at the pub into a frenzy with their flirting. "You of all people, who have seen the ugliness of life on the mainland: the pollution, the waste, the exploitation of young men and women including yourself for heaven's sake, do you want Sauraquid to be like that?"

"No, Peggy," Gwendolyn admitted. "The day I was able to buy my ticket back to Sauraquid was the greatest of my life, and there is a reason why I never left again until last night."

"If that does not convince you, then consider: every sailor asea has heard of Martin's Isle and of us. Many were nevertheless foolhardy enough to try to sail into Sauraquid with the black heart of a whaler or a slaver, or with cargo that could have done us irreparable damage; but they did so knowing full well how very dangerous that was. It is their foolish judgment, and your only crime will be failing to tell them what they should have known for years."

Gwendolyn said nothing, but her face softened and once again she carelessly dropped the sheet that had preserved her modesty. She lingered happily but a moment with her breasts on display before remembering herself and gathering up the sheet again.

All three of the others laughed, though not unkindly. "Gwendolyn," Josephine advised, "If you are going to be one of us, you had best grow accustomed to spending a lot of time naked in company, particularly in our company. You're beautiful, and as a matter of fact that will be part of your job."

"Perhaps you should go outside and grow accustomed to being at one with nature," Annie suggested.

"Outside with...like this?" Gweondolyn demanded. "With no clothes?"

"You did swim all the way here that way, didn't you?" Peggy pointed out.

"That I did," Gwendolyn admitted. "I suppose I never really imagined it would come to this, though, or at least that it wouldn't be all quite as it is."

"Well, dear, it is," Peggy said. "Welcome to the sisterhood."

There was a detour to the front room for a breakfast of fresh bread and fruit. When they had eaten and Peggy continued to encourage Gwendolyn outside without offering so much as a loincloth, Josephine offered to undress and join her for her first foray outside, an offer Gwendolyn accepted quite gratefully. 

Despite -- or maybe even because -- she had pranced so brazenly up the beach in the nude only hours before, Gwendolyn was mortified as she stepped out into the brilliant sunshine. Josephine showed no sign of any such inhibition and stepped out fearlessly onto the sand wearing only a broad smile. With a spring in her step, she jaunted off towards the surf, then turned around and stood facing the house. With her fiery red mane dazzling in the sunshine and her burning bush cloaking her womanhood in the most teasing way, she set an example of great confidence for Gwendolyn, who stood clinging to the porch banister. "Come on out, dear! There's not a soul on the island except the four of us!"

Gwendolyn reminded herself that she had wanted this more than anything, and that Josephine was right: there was no risk of anyone seeing anything who had not already seen everything. Forcing an air of confidence, she held her head high and marched out into the sun. By the time she reached Josephine, the confidence was as real as the delightful nervous tickle she felt all over her body. "My, you're right," she said. "This does feel lovely once you decide to let it!" 

"Doesn't it, though!" Josephine agreed. "For all the distastefulness of letting the evil ships sink, it is a most wonderful way to live." She hooked her arm through Gwendolyn's and guided her into the warm surf and down the beach towards the southern horizon. "A bit lonely now and again, but we're never on our own for too long."

"What about those filthy disgusting men Annie was talking about?" Gwendolyn asked. 

Josephine laughed. "They're ever so much fun to wash down!" Once she and Gwendolyn had both enjoyed a laugh, she continued, "The really distasteful ones can always be sent outside. It happened last night, after all. The others, well, they can be uncouth all right, but remember what else Annie said: they haven't been around women in a long time when they end up here. Besides, some of them actually appreciate that we saved their lives. They're so happy to be spending the night with us that most of them find whatever manners they have quickly enough."

Gwendolyn paused and gazed out at the sea, only just making out a hint of the lighthouse that had guided her to her new home. "Heavens, what a life," she murmured in a melancholy afterthought of a tone. 

"It really is, though, Gwen, you'll get used to it sooner than you think!" Josephine offered, caressing Gwendolyn's back.

"No, I meant...I mean, I believe you," Gwendolyn said. "But I meant the life of a sailor. What a way to live, on a cork tossed about the ocean for months at a time, maybe not seeing your hometown for years at a time, if ever again!"

At once, Josephine was able to read between the lines. "You lost a man to the sea, didn't you?" she asked. 

"Well..."

"Annie and I always suspected it, the way you look at the young guys at the pub as if you fear for them when you ought to be afraid of them," Josephine continued.

"He wasn't really a man, I wouldn't say," Gwendolyn corrected. 

"You could say that about an awful lot of our sailors, now couldn't you?" Josephine nodded her agreement. 

"No, I didn't mean it that way," Gwendolyn said. "He --"

"Charlie, I'm terribly sorry," Lillie interjected, bringing us all crashing back to London. "I hate to interrupt you and I hate even more to give Uncle Edmund another reason to accuse me of being unladylike, but I'm absolutely bursting for the ladies'. All this wine, you know. Please promise me you'll pick up just where you left off?"

"Well, of course I shall," Charlie said as Lillie stood up and excused herself. On the way to the loo, she waved to the bartender for another glass of wine; by then my own inhibitions were too far gone to care. I, too, wanted another round and the rest of the story, after all!

As soon as she was gone, though, I felt one final calling to preserve some modicum of decency. "Listen, Charlie," I said. "Surely there's a way you could tell this story without all these naked ladies frolicking around and all the sex with the sailors, isn't there? For her sake?"

"For her sake, my friend, I think it's quite clear that your niece doesn't want the clean version of the story," Charlie replied. "I mean no disrespect, but have you seen any sign of disapproval on her part? I have not." 

"Well, of course, my good man. She's young and curious. But she's a lady."

"She's a lady who wants to know the way of the world," Charlie said. "I'll tell you what, Edmund, the moment she gives me any indication that she's uncomfortable, I'll say the story's over. Will you accept that in exchange for you no longer insisting she's uncomfortable when we can both see she's anything but?"

"I have to admit I want to know just what became of Josephine and Gwendolyn next," I said. 

Charlie chuckled and downed the last of his drink as the bartender arrived with another round for all three of us. "So you think because there were two naked women on the beach, of course they had a go at each other," he said. "It's okay, Edmund, I'd be lying to say I didn't imagine that myself the first time I heard the story. But ask yourself, if you and I ended up naked on a beach somewhere..."

"Oh, dear God!" I laughed to block out the image. "Point taken, Charlie."

"What point would that be?" asked Lillie, reappearing at my side. "Don't you dare tell me you went on without me!"

"We did not," I reassured her. 

"A promise is a promise," Charlie concurred. "Now, I believe I was just telling you how the chimes had begun to ring. Gwendolyn's very first time witnessing a ship coming by Martin's Isle, and of course she couldn't --"

"No," Lillie corrected. "You were telling how she and Josephine were just about to make love in the tide, I think."

I couldn't resist a laugh at Charlie's expense, and he looked almost happy at Lillie's error. "So even women find that idea irresistible," he said. "You learn something new every day. In any event, no, they didn't make love, in the water or anywhere else. What did happen was that just as Gwendolyn and Josephine were baring their souls to one another -- having already bared everything else, as we have established, the chimes began to ring."

"Oh, heavens," Josephine said, turning to glance up the beach at the telltale clinking. "Terribly sorry, Gwendolyn, but you'll have to tell me about your heartache later. Duty calls!" She gave Gwendolyn a quick hug and then took her by the hand. "Just as well that you learn the ropes so early on anyway. Our life may be a working vacation, but that means there is still work to be done!"

Gwendolyn made no complaint as they both rushed up the sand to the lookout, where Annie and Peggy had already arrived and were looking downcast. 

"Not the good kind, I take it?" asked Josephine.

"Coal slag, from the look of it," Peggy said. "I heard a rumour about it in the pub. Old man Norton made one of his stupid deals to allow it to be dumped on Sauraquid in exchange for some business favours on the mainland."

"What sort of idiot would try to sail into Sauraquid with that?" Annie wondered. 

"One who has sold his soul to the highest bidder," Peggy said. Seeing Gwendolyn still had cold feet about letting even an evil captain sail to his grave, she added, "You know, Gwendolyn, if he has any sense at all, he can always turn back. I have never actually killed anyone directly, and you won't have to either."

"Just think of what that filth will do to your home if he does get through," Josephine said. 

"I hate it as much as you all do," Gwendolyn said. "But...I mean, look at the weather, it's beautiful! He's in no danger even if I wanted to sink him."

"Not if he can control himself, that's true," Annie said. "But you and Josephine are dressed just right to make a ship full of horny sailors lose control, aren't you?"

"You're joking!" Gwendolyn was horrified in spite of herself. 

"We told you there was a dark side to your good fortune," Peggy said. 

"Look on the bright side," Josephine said, taking Gwendolyn by the hand to lead her out of the shelter of trees. "Chances are none of them will live to say they saw you naked."

"I don't know whether to be happy about that or not," Gwendolyn said. 

"You will be happy about it soon enough," came Annie's voice from behind her, and Gwendolyn turned around to see she and Peggy had also undressed and were following them onto the beach. 




Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse



"Now then," Peggy said. "All at once, hand on hip, breasts thrust out, smile and wave!" Gwendolyn joined in against her better judgment, giving into her morbid curiosity as to what would happen next. 

She observed as Peggy, Josephine and Annie all went into a sort of hula-like dance, Annie and Peggy's heavy breasts swinging to and fro in their own rhythm as the rest of their bodies swayed gracefully. Seeing as she was already present and naked as the rest of them, Gwendolyn joined in, to the others' clear delight. "You're a natural!" Annie reassured her.

"Now what?" Gwendolyn asked, smiling through her confusion and doing her best not to think of what the men aboard the ship must have been thinking of her in that moment. 

"Now we wait for male nature to take its course!" Peggy declared. "And believe me, it will." 

Soon enough, it was clear that Peggy was right. As Gwendolyn did her best to keep up with the others and tacitly enjoyed the spectacle of Annie giving in to gravity and supporting her breasts with both hands, she was aware of the ship veering off the straight course it had been following towards Sauraquid. "You can't see without the telescope, and please don't go back there this time because you're doing such a lovely job of distracting them," Josephine explained to her, "But by now they'll all be ogling us and neglecting their stations. The captain is no doubt screaming at them all to get back to their posts, but what can he do against everyone else on the ship?"

"Besides, he probably can't take his eyes off us either," Annie added. 

The ship was, by then, veering heavily to the port side -- toward Martin's Isle -- and then back on course again, and then back towards them. Gwendolyn was not at all surprised to realize the crew were fighting over whether to sail in to Martin's Isle or not. 

"Don't be afraid," Peggy advised Gwendolyn. "Even if they do all make up their minds to sail here, they'll never make it.

"I know," Gwendolyn said. Every child of Sauraquid knew how treacherous the waters around it were with reefs and rocks and wrecks. Any diversion from the established course would put a boat in hazardous waters indeed. "Good lord, they'll run aground for sure, won't they?"

"That is the whole idea," Josephine reminded her. 

Of course, that was just what happened. Gwendolyn heard an echo of the crack of wood on stone and, a fraction of a second later, saw the ship lurch heavily to one side. She wasn't sure if she actually heard the faint sounds of the sailors shouting in terror as the waves washed over the deck, or only imagined it. Little doubt, though, that it was indeed happening whether Gwendolyn could hear it or not. 

As soon as it was clear that the ship was going to sink, Peggy took her leave and retreated into the woods. "Do we lock ourselves inside now?" Gwendolyn asked. 

"No," Annie said. "She's going to create a diversion for the lifeboats." Gwendolyn looked up to see the mirrors in the trees rotating to the left. "The sailors are going to be furious at us all right, but they won't be able to hurt us if they can't find us. She's sending them off-course, sort of like a house of mirrors on the water. By the time they realize they're headed the wrong way, they'll be too tired and disoriented to find their way back here."

"Usually they end up clinging to Commaquid Rock," Josephine continued. "Chances are they'll only have to wait there for a few hours before another boat will be by to pick them up."

"And then what?"

"And then they'll be too embarrassed to admit they let their ship sink just to get a look at us naked, and there'll be some ridiculous story about a tidal wave or something. I guarantee you'll hear all about it tonight at the pub."

To her astonishment, Gwendolyn saw that it was true: the lifeboats were rushing off well to their west, towards where she knew Commaquid Rock was although it wouldn't be visible to the sailors for some time yet. Any need for their erotic dance having gone the way of the ship itself, now Gwendolyn stood rooted to the sand. "We've won, then, have we?"

"I'll say as we have," Peggy said, gathering up her dress and shaking the sand out of it. "They won't be poisoning Sauraquid with that filth now."

"And it looks as though they all escaped to safety," Annie said.

"What if they didn't?" Gwendolyn asked.

Peggy sighed and put an arm around Gwendolyn. This happened with every new arrival, she reminded herself, including her when she was new many moons ago. "Every man who goes to sea knows the risks, you know. Especially if he is familiar with our reputation."

Gwendolyn was still not convinced. But she had already fallen in love with Martin's Isle and the chance to save the good ships that came through and the camaraderie with Annie, Peggy and especially Josephine, not to mention the absolute freedom to prance around the beach in the nude. And so, after enjoying her own company in and around the waves for the rest of the morning, she announced at lunchtime that she intended to stay. This was met with joyous abandon and hugs and encouragement, but -- rather to her surprise -- no secret rituals of any sort. As Peggy explained to her, the only secret ritual was swimming to the island, and she had already accomplished that.

From that hour on, Gwendolyn kept her doubts to herself about her new lot in life. They never quite receded entirely, even as everything else changed. But everything else did indeed change, and that was enough for Gwendolyn to keep her questioning of it all to herself. That very afternoon and evening, when she swam back to Sauraquid for her shift at the pub, her hometown looked rather different than it had the day before when she hadn't known her own greatest secret. As the hazy summer day outside settled down to an oppressively warm evening, the stink of the fish outside and the rowdy men inside had her already pining for their quiet beach home from the moment she drew her first pint, and she cared not a whit for the fact that she would no more be skulking home through the streets of Sauraquid after work.

Naturally, the news about the slag ship was the talk of the pub -- "I recon it's them angels out by the lighthouse again!" "Angels?! They could've killed every man on that boat!" "And every man on that boat could've had a hand in turning this place dark and filthy as a mine if they hadn't done what they did!" -- and so Gwendolyn learned very quickly how to keep it all under her hat. 

"Is it that hard to keep your mouth shut every time there's a wreck?" she asked Annie as they undressed together by the cellar door after their shift.

"I'm afraid it is," Annie said. "I content myself with the irony of it all: here they are, half of them calling me a murderess and the other half a heroine without even knowing it, and meanwhile they all still want to get under my skirt! I always believed men never really knew if they were coming or going, and now I know!"

That night offered no squalls and no objectionable cargo, and so Gwendolyn learned all about the many quiet nights she was in for on Martin's isle. Reading, painting, writing, chatting with the others over wine or tea, or simply enjoying the ebb and flow of the tides under the stars...her new life was to be quiet and subdued much of the time, but never boring. The miserable years on the mainland had taught her what a gift such mellow pursuits were, and hours at the pub often whetted her appetite for the peace and quiet of the isle as well. 

For quite some time afterward, she enjoyed that life with no major incidents -- or at least none beyond averting a shipwreck here and causing one there, and often taking a strange man to her bed in the process. After a time, of course, any job is simply a job, and Gwendolyn's was no exception. The lack of seasons, for it was always summer on Martin's Isle, led to the weeks slipping effortlessly into months and then into a year and then two. The turning of the seasons back on Sauraquid reminded her what time of year it was back in the bad old world, and the frigid tides of winter no longer frightened her once she discovered it only needed to be endured for a few strokes away from the pub's kitchen door before she grew accustomed to it, a circumstance no one could explain any better than one might explain Martin's Isle itself. That emerged as one of many clues that Gwendolyn had always been exceptional, for now she recalled being known even as a little girl for her remarkable tolerance of cold water. If only she had known then what it had all meant! Such misery could have been averted...but she was grateful to have escaped it all eventually. 

It was, however, a blazing summer's day at both ends of the journey when Gwendolyn faced the first and greatest trial of her new life. 

That summer had been rife with squalls, including one the night before that had come so close to Martin's Isle that Gwendolyn had actually seen the driving rain as she had put herself on display on the beach for the ship full of medical supplies that was passing through. She had, by that time, overcome her shyness about that part of her job, and so she had felt no shame as she had stood there and smiled and waved at the ship. All she had felt was fear that the captain might spurn her beautiful show in favour of staying on course, and end up dashed on the rocks somewhere between there and Sauraquid. 

He had not, though, and as the sun appeared over the far side of the isle the next morning, he lay safe and sound in Gwendolyn's bed. As she stood, still happily nude, at the window and admired the new glow of the western sky for the umpteenth time, he sat up and called gently to her. "Turn around, lass."

"Whatever for?" she teased. But she did indulge him and, as she had learned to do, exulted in his drinking in of her body on display before him.

"Could be some time before I get a chance to view anything so lovely again, that's what for. To think the tale of Martin's Isle is true! I'd never have imagined it."

"Is that why you were willing to risk sailing to Sauraquid in this horrid weather?" 

By now Gwendolyn had heard the explanation many a time, and of course she heard it again that morning. "But of course," he said. "Every sailor knows with such noble cargo as we have aboard today, the ladies of Martin's Isle won't let us be shipwrecked. Indeed," he confessed, "The selfish bastard in me almost hoped for a squall."

"Only almost?" Gwendolyn feigned offense, a ruse she had discovered usually went over well with the men she bedded. "You mean this hungry pussy wasn't enticing enough to risk all your men's life for?!" she quipped, fingering her bush enticingly.

He laughed. "I now know it was. Come give us a final cuddle, will you?"

"I might well insist on that!" Gwendolyn replied, and she leapt back on top of him, hugging his sea-hardened body tightly for a final lovely moment. He'd been better than most of the others -- caressing her breasts rather than grabbing them, only fingering her when he'd gotten her aroused and ready -- and good behaviour deserved to be rewarded, after all. 

"Will I see you again, lass?"

"You ought to hope not! You know there is no guarantee we can save every ship that comes through in bad weather."

"I meant in Sauraquid," he said. "I know you work the pub there, you and your comrades. I'd recognize those smiles and breasts anywhere."

"Hush!" Gwendolyn admonished. "Lots of sailors know, but that must never be discussed ashore!"

"I know, I know," he reassured her. "But if someday you are on Sauraquid and up for a pleasant afternoon away from work?"

"I cannot promise," said Gwendolyn, who had of course received many such invitations by then. "But do feel free to look me up at the pub, provided you can mind your tongue around the other men there as to how we met."

"I understand, of course," the captain said. "You probably already know, it's a bit of an open secret there. Everyone knows you and the others are real, but no one wants to confess that he owes his life to a girl or that he nearly sacrificed himself and his crew just to gaze at one."

"Of course we know," Gwendolyn acknowledged. "We hear the talk of it all the time at the pub, after all." She stood up and offered him a final embrace. "Now, I'm afraid I must insist that you get dressed. The skies are clear for passage to Sauraquid, and with the luck we've been having this summer, that probably won't last."

"Right you are," he admitted, standing up and accepting the hug. "I do hope you and the others will see us off," he added as he pulled his trousers on.

"We will," Gwendolyn said. Like most of the men who had made that request, he hid his disappointment as he watched Gwendolyn go to her closet and pull out a dress to wear for the departure. Some rules could never be bent: how on earth would he ever persuade his men to cast off if she and the other ladies were naked on the shore?

Gwendolyn had gained a bit of a reputation among the others for letting her charges in a bit too much sometimes, and although she did her best to hide it in this case, Annie and Josephine recognized the look on her face as she bid the ship adieu. "Not again!" Annie teased. "One day you're going to give your heart away and get in real trouble, you know!"

"Not this time, though," Gwendolyn protested. 

"Could've fooled me," Josephine said. "But I'm jealous all the same. My guy could scarcely get it up last night. Something about too much rum before the storm hit."

"That's what they all say," Gwendolyn said; she had heard that line her share of times as well. 

"Seriously, though, Gwendolyn, you've got to watch yourself," Annie warned. "We've all learned that the hard way, and I've been hoping you wouldn't need to."

Gwendolyn put up with the ensuing hectoring from Annie and Peggy alike, which lasted through lunch, for she knew there was no escaping it. She could never, though, have known how prophetic it would prove to be just a couple of hours later. 

She was sunning herself just above the waterline when Annie, who had lookout duty that afternoon, appeared frantic at her side. "There's another storm coming up!" she said. "Probably even bigger than the one yesterday!"

"Surely no sailor is foolish enough to leave the harbour after last night, though?" Gwendolyn knew it was wishful thinking, but she hated so to be torn away from her seaside reverie with the memory of last night's pleasures still so fresh in her mind. 

"I've already spotted one ship sailing in," Annie said. "A whaler."

"A whaler!" Gwendolyn played her one last card. "We don't want those to have safe passage anyway!"

"Such was my own thought," Annie said. "But I've asked Peggy to take a look at it, through the telescope, and she didn't recognize the captain. For all we know, he could be a genius of a sailor who's been through far worse and could get that evil boat through. I mean, he probably is if he's made it this far! We've got our work cut out for us here, Gwendolyn. We need you." 

Gwendolyn once again reminded herself that paradise carried a price like everything else, and she got to her feet. "You're right, of course. Let's go."

No whalers had even attempted passage into Sauraquid since long before Gwendolyn's time, so she had never seen one in person. Upon her arrival at the lookout, she couldn't tamp down her morbid curiosity, and took a look through the telescope, which was already focused on the ship. She saw two fairly young men, who appeared to be arguing intensely. Neither looked old enough to be a captain, but one of them seemed familiar to her. All at once, her heart nearly exploded as she realized just why that was. 

"Oh dear..." she drew back from the telescope in horror.

"Yes, they truly are evil," Josephine said. "Those poor whales, how they suffer, and what did they ever do to us?"

"No, not that!" Gwendolyn said. "I mean, I agree with you, but..."

"But what, dear?" Peggy asked. 

Recalling that morning's conversation, Gwendolyn panicked internally and opted to keep her awful discovery to herself. "Nothing, sorry. I just hate whalers so very much."

"I say we let this batch drown," Annie said. 

"Annie, they're human beings, whether they act like it or not!" Gwendolyn barely managed to control her temper. 

"Let them set an example to other human beings, then!" Annie retorted. 

"That's enough, girls!" Peggy snapped. "We've got a job to do, and the rest is up to them! You know that. If their captain has any sense, he'll know how to make sure they all live to get out of Sauraquid and stay out!"

"Their captain doesn't look old enough to shave, if you ask me," Josephine says. "Whichever of those two it is."

"That is their problem, not ours," Annie declared. "Places, ladies."

The captain of the whaler, a man named Shapp who was on only his third voyage in the captain's chair, was in fact old enough to shave, though he hadn't done so in some days. At that very moment, he was engaged in a heated argument with the other, slightly younger man Gwendolyn had spotted. "We've been dealing with this sort of thing all summer, and we can be in Sauraquid within the hour!" he insisted. "Where are we going to turn back to anyway?"

"Anywhere but here!" argued the other man. "I'm telling you, there's no way on earth we'll get through that storm in one piece! Haven't you ever heard of what happens to whalers when they try to sail to Sauraquid?"

"Martin's Isle," Shapp spat out the words like they tasted bad. "I suppose you believe in Santa Claus, too! It's a myth! A fable! There's a first time for everything, and I hadn't planned on it, but now I'll be the first whaler to make it through. This'll make my fortune, and yours if you can learn to keep your mouth shut for an hour!"

"You fool..."

"Any more of that and I'll have you taken below!" Shapp roared. "Then if we do sink, the other men will escape and you won't. Is that what you want?"

Seeing no other option, the younger man nodded slightly and turned to survey the gathering storm outside the wheelhouse. The waves were higher than he had seen all summer, and a light but growing rain was already pelting the boat on every side as the wind seemed to come from all directions at once. If he had any hope to survive the storm...no, even that was a silly wish. He'd been gone too long and had grown too much in his absence, and he couldn't be sure the ladies had even known of him before. He, after all, hadn't had a clue who they were. If only he could at least spot Commaquid Rock, there'd be a fighting chance to get there and hang on...but he could barely see their own bow in the heavy mist. 

"Visibility near zero!" called a well-intentioned mate.

"No kidding," Shapp replied. "Stay the course, Sauraquid is dead ahead, whether you can see it or not." But even as he said it, he sensed a sharp turn to port. "What the devil?" He looked over his shoulder at the helmsman. "I said stay the course!"

"But look, sir!" said the helmsman. "Port, ten o'clock!"

Shapp turned to see a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds and a serene harbour just beyond. "What on earth..." He turned to his mate, who knew exactly what the vision was -- and wasn't -- but he didn't look back. He was gazing at it himself, lost in prayer and pondering his next move and his chances of success. 

It was at that moment that Shapp was aware of a chorus of whoops of joy and lust out on the sodden deck, even as the squall was clearly very nearly upon them. He rushed to the window and looked down to see them pointing and cheering. "What can they be so giddy about out there in the storm at a time like this?!" he demanded of his mate.

"I have no idea," the younger man lied. 

"I'll have their heads for this if they don't get back to their stations!" Shapp grunted. He nearly tore the wheelhouse door off its hinges as he rushed outside to harangue the crew. 




Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse



As soon as he was outside, his aggrieved mate locked the door and turned to the helmsman. "Turn back south, now!" he ordered. "That's our only chance of survival. I mean it."

"Orders are orders, sir," the helmsman replied. 

"You fool, don't you know what happens to whalers who try to sail to Sauraquid?!"

"I know the stories, but you hear a lot of stories, don't you?" the helmsman replied.

"Here's a story," said one of the other sailors who had been assisting the helmsman. "I see what they're all looking at! You've got to see this!"

"I already know what it is," the mate said, recalling the stories he'd heard from his old friend Jamison, who never had forgiven his captain nor learned to mind his tongue. 

"No you don't!" insisted the young sailor. "Three naked women dancing on a beach!"

"What?" exclaimed the helmsman, and in a moment of weakness he let go of the wheel to go take a quick look. Sensing his opportunity, the mate seized the moment, and the wheel. He turned it as hard to port as he could, getting it a few turns before the helmsman realized his mistake and returned to his post, shoving the mate out of the way. "You idiot!" he snapped. "Just you wait until Shapp hears about this!"

"Shapp is going to drown like the rest of us if we don't head south!" 

"With you pulling stuff like that, of course we are!" the helmsman said. When the mate tried to take over the wheel again, he was met with a swift punch in the mouth and fell sprawling on the damp floor. Outside, the boy who had made the unlikely claim about the girlie show could see Shapp struggling to make it back up the stairs as the ship wobbled about, a look of absolute rage on his face, while the other sailors looked relieved and searched in vain for the vision they had lost sight of in the commotion. Their dire situation was either forgotten for the moment or looked so inevitable as to make them cease caring. 

"Let me in there this second!" Shapp roared, banging on the locked wheelhouse door. "Unless you want to be thrown overboard!"

"That's probably the safest thing!" called back the mate, who by then had picked himself up off the floor and was rubbing his rapidly swelling jaw. Seeing that one of the younger sailors was on his way to the door to unlock it, he leapt across and blocked the way. "You'll thank me later on!" he insisted, shoving the younger sailor back. At that moment a particularly intense wave hit the boat, and the younger sailor fell backwards and also knocked the helmsman off balance, sending the wheel off to starboard. 

"What on earth are they doing?" wondered Josephine as she pranced up and down the beach, hands on hips, showing off her body to the ship. "I've never seen anything like that before!"

"Whatever you're doing, keep doing it!" called Peggy from the lookout. "They're at each other's throats already. At this rate they'll kill each other before the squall even gets there!"

Gwendolyn, already smiling through her consternation as she followed Josephine and Annie's lead, told herself it wasn't really who she thought it was on board. And if it was, surely he'd know how to swim to safety...right? 

"I'm convinced," Peggy said. "No need for me to spy on them; they're gone. I'm joining you!" Emerging from the thicket, she added, "I want a front row seat to watch that ship go down!" 

Gwendolyn could stand it no longer. "I'll keep watch, then," she said. "I feel one of us should, just in case." 

"Suit yourself," Peggy said, taking her place in the line of dancers. "But I see no reason to."

It took Gwendolyn a minute or two to train the telescope on the wheelhouse, as the ship was being tossed about like a cork by then. But at last, she got a decent look at the two young men again, one of them now locked out of the wheelhouse and the other apparently doing his best to keep it that way for some reason. How bizarre, she thought...but there was no time to wonder why, for that one fleeting look confirmed exactly what she had tried so hard to believe she hadn't seen. 

"Charlie!" 

Gwendolyn didn't realize she had screamed his name out loud until the others called back to her from the beach. "Someone you know, Gwendolyn?!" Annie exclaimed in disbelief. 

"Yes, the dearest friend I ever had before I came here!" Gwendolyn explained as she rushed back down the path to the beach. "The only friend I had for a long time, really! I haven't seen him since we were kids and he got kidnapped and sent to sea. He's not evil like the others, I just know it! Please, we've got to do something!"

But at that moment, the sound they all four knew so well, of a ship running aground, rang through the air. They all looked to see the whaler rolling onto its side, clearly in desperate trouble. 

"Charlie!" Gwendolyn called out in futility. Turning to the others, she said, "I've got to try to save him at least! I hope you understand!" Without another word she ran into the surf until it was deep enough to swim, and then dove in and stroked like a demon for the wreck. 

"Gwendolyn! Don't be a fool!" Josephine called after her. 

She made to give chase, but Peggy held her back. "Let her go," Peggy said. "She'll be too late and she's probably wrong about him besides, but at least she'll know she tried."

Gwendolyn swam as fiercely as she ever had in her life, even on that first day she had swum to Martin's Isle, but she didn't tire. She was aware of nothing but her goal of reaching the ship in time, scarcely even wondering how she could save only Charlie when she got there. There was never any question of getting there; it was only a question of whether he would still be alive by then. Gwendolyn knew exactly when she crossed from the Martin's Isle sunshine into the stormy sea, as the water grew rather colder and stayed that way; but it only strengthened her resolve and she swam even faster. As she approached the ship, she was aware of several crew members who had been out on deck now swimming for their lives up on the surface. She'd have liked to help them despite everything, but there was no time and no means for that. 

The ship was sinking rapidly when Gwendolyn reached it, but Charlie was still in the wheelhouse and, to her immense relief, he was still alive. The room had begun filling with water that seeped in through the floor and probably several other sources, and Charlie and the others were flailing at the door in an as-yet vain attempt to open it before their air pocket disappeared. 

Gwendolyn reached the door and tried her hand at it, but the jammed lock held just as tightly from outside as inside. From inside, Charlie, who made no sign of recognizing her, pointed desperately to his left and her right, and Gwendolyn turned to find a hose with a brass nozzle still bound in its coil just beside the door. She made fast work of freeing the nozzle and swung it with all her might at the wheelhouse window. She was prepared to bang it against the glass again and again until her breath ran out, but the window gave with a beautiful shattering sound on the very first try. 

Charlie and the other trapped sailors emerged and paddled desperately for the surface. Gwendolyn followed suit, and gratefully gulped in the rainy air once she had reached the top. Overhearing some silly question about where the mermaid came from, she grabbed at Charlie's collar and began towing him while swimming as best she could with only one free hand. Charlie, perhaps not surprisingly, did not question the naked woman who had just saved his life, but he also didn't show any sign of knowing who she was. Indeed he said nothing, and Gwendolyn could only hope he hadn't lost consciousness. 

Knowing they would not be welcome on Martin's Isle, she swam for Sauraquid. Some of the other sailors followed in her wake, but none could swim half as briskly as she and soon they had lost all track of her, although Gwendolyn didn't know as much until she had reached the lee of the lighthouse and had the luxury of pausing to look over her shoulder. The rain was pelting the water in every direction she could see and visibility couldn't have been more than ten feet or so. But Charlie was still breathing, and there was no sign that any of the others knew where they were. 

The rest of the journey was, relatively speaking, easy. When at last she latched onto the pub's cellar door, Gwendolyn was tired and sore, but she had never felt more alive. "Can you stand?" she asked Charlie as she set him on damp but solid ground at last, just inside the door.

"Yes," he croaked, grabbing onto the handrail. 

Gwendolyn could hear that the pub was doing a booming business, much as she'd have guessed in light of the nasty weather; but getting Charlie upstairs to the tiny bedroom they kept for nights when it was too rough to swim home would not require going out front. They could get there from the kitchen. For that reason, she decided against pulling out her dress from the cubbyhole to put on; it would only get soaked and she'd be taking it off for the hot, hot bath they would soon be sharing. The only problem was getting through the kitchen without the bartenders currently on duty being any the wiser. Gwendolyn figured they would be too busy up front for that to be a problem. 

She was wrong, for as she helped Charlie to the top of the cellar steps, she looked up to find James looking in disbelief at his naked co-worker guiding a half-drowned sailor up the steps. His mouth was agape and he looked as though he was struggling to look away from Gwendolyn's body, but he couldn't will himself to do so. 

"James," Gwendolyn said matter-of-factly, "I will give you my entire next shift's worth of tips if you breathe a word of this to no one. If you do speak up, think of how it will look for you."

"Ummm, Okay, Gwen," he said. "My lips are sealed."

"We'll be upstairs, and I don't want anyone disturbing us, not even Peggy."

"Peggy isn't here," James said. "I don't even know where she is."

Gwendolyn suspected he was probably telling the truth. But that didn't really matter. Nothing mattered but getting Charlie out of his stupor and out of his sodden clothes. 

The little attic room had a featherbed at one end and a bathtub at the other. As soon as she had the door shut and locked, Gwendolyn went to the bathtub and lit the water heater, and then went to the bed and lit the oil lamp on the table beside it. She found a couple of towels in the cupboard in the corner, and handed one to Charlie. "Can you undress yourself?" she asked, and she began patting herself dry.

"In your presence?" he asked in a raspy voice. 

"Well, you've seen every inch of me, haven't you?" Gwendolyn demanded. "This is no time for modesty!" Having finished drying herself, she set the towel on the table by the lamp and stood looking him in the eye. "You do know who I am, don't you, Charlie?"

He took a long look, mostly in her eyes despite the difficulty of focusing there given her nudity, and at once she could see it had come to him. "Wendy? Good heavens, it is you, isn't it?! Wendy!"

"No one has called me that in years," she said, "But yes, it's me. Now, surely you're not going to be shy with me of all people, especially after I saved your life?"

"I thought you were..." Charlie groped for the right word. "I don't know what I thought happened to you!" His senses returning in full at last, he did finally start undressing. "Listen," he said once he'd peeled his coat off and set about unbuttoning his shirt. "I have always wanted to apologize for the way I abandoned you that day, when we got caught. I was trying to think of a way to rescue you when they caught me too."

"I know," Gwendolyn said, turning on the tap for the bathtub. "Charlie, I never thought you had abandoned me. Besides, we were thieves, and thieves get caught sooner or later. I heard what had become of you and, well, I missed you horribly, but I was happy for you. I knew how you had always longed to go to sea. I was jealous, of course! But I'm not jealous anymore, I can tell you that."

"You're a...lady of the Isle?" Charlie asked, even surprised himself to find himself asking such a question, as he got to his feet and unbuttoned his pants. 

"I am," Gwendolyn said, turning to admire the show as he undressed. "Can you believe how life turned out for us both?!"

"Better than I can believe I'm getting naked with you," he said, smiling for the first time since they had emerged from the water. "Last time I saw you, girls were icky. Except for you of course."

"And so were boys including you!" Gwendolyn retorted. "But my, how you've grown, Charlie!" His years at sea had kept him in wonderful condition, sinewy and muscular, and his chest and belly were sprinkled with lush hair as dark as that on his head, while Gwendolyn's naked presence had rendered him firm as a plank. "You certainly have grown," she repeated, taking his hard cock in both hands and stroking it appreciatively. 

"So my apology is accepted," he quipped, reaching up to return the favour with her breasts.

"If I had any hard feelings, do you think I'd have risked my life to save yours?" she asked. "Now, let's get you warmed up in the bath, shall we?"

There was only so much opportunity to stroke one another while seated facing each other in the steamy water. But they made do with rubbing one another's legs and occasionally holding hands as he told her of the dozens of ports he had enjoyed over the years and the adventures he'd been through at sea, and she told him of her years in Lowell and the joy of escaping that life and all the many erotic escapades she and the others had been through on Martin's Isle. "I'd be lying to say it hasn't been a lot of fun," she said. "Some of the men I end up with are none too desirable, but the good ones are worth the bad. I imagine you can say the same about the fun you've had in port, Charlie?"

"I can," he admitted. "Not half as noble as what you've done, I know, but..."

"Oh, don't be silly, it's life and it ought to be celebrated," Gwendolyn said. "I learned a long time ago not to judge. After all, we know too well what some folks would say of the life I live."

"Oh, they do," Charlie admitted. "Martin's Isle is known to sailors all over the world, even though most of us aren't sure if it's really there at all, and they do all have opinions of what is rumoured to happen there."

"Jealousy, no doubt," Gwendolyn mused.

"Exactly," Charlie said. "I knew this chap Jamison, who said --"

"I know what Jamison would say about the place," Gwendolyn interrupted. 

"Then he really was there?!"

"And talked himself right out of a night with the most sensuous woman you can imagine," Gwendolyn confirmed. 

Charlie's eyebrows flew up. "You mean --"

Gwendolyn laughed. "No, not me. But yes, it's true he was there. I don't know what he said about us and I don't want to; all I know for sure is that he deserved everything he got that night."

"I believe that," Charlie said, looking out the room's lone window at the raging storm outside. "He always was a bit of a loudmouth, to put it mildly." He took both of Gwendolyn's hands in his under the hot water and turned his gaze back to his old friend. "Now, how do I thank you for saving my life when I was on that whaler?"

"You can explain what you were doing there," Gwendolyn said. "That's all I need to know. Or I suppose I don't need to know, but I certainly would like to."

"I've been a profligate spender, Wendy," he said. "Part of the trouble with life at sea is you're never in one place long enough for such luxuries as putting your money away in the bank. So I've carried it with me everywhere I've travelled, and it is ever so easy to spend it all when you've got it under your pillow or in your pocket at all times! I was broke in New York and hard up for a new job after my last ship put in to stay, and Shapp, well, he's a brash young captain whom no one trusts or respects very much, and he was paying well because it was the only way he could get a crew together. I certainly have learned my lesson, I'll tell you that."

"I do hope you'll take a bit more care now that you're safe at home," Gwendolyn told him. "What do you plan to do now?"

"Why, go back to sea, of course! There'll be a more reputable ship looking for crew soon enough."

"Charlie, how can you do that?!" Gwendolyn was aghast. "After what you've been through?"

"My home is the sea, Wendy. Could you give up on your life on Martin's Isle?"

Wendy nodded sadly. "I see your point," she said. "I could never walk away from it, or swim away as the case may be." Gripping his hands tighter, she continued, "I wonder, then, will we ever be together again?"

"I don't know," he said. "But think of how improbable it is that we are together now! Let's be grateful for that, shall we?"

Gwendolyn looked at the bed and smiled. "I know just how we can celebrate our gratitude, don't you?"

She stood up to step out of the tub and dry off, and Charlie looked shamelessly upon his childhood friend in her full-grown woman's body. "I don't know what to make of this moment," he said finally.

"Nor do I," Gwendolyn admitted. "But Charlie, I have no doubt we'll both regret it if we don't make love tonight. Think of it as bringing our friendship full circle. Our one and only chance to do that."

Charlie stood up, and his body betrayed its willingness in the sweetest way. 

Gwendolyn patted him dry with a fresh towel, taking her time with his hard cock. "We certainly want this nice and clean and ready to go, don't we?" she teased. 

"Oh, it's ready to go, all right!" he said. 

When she had gotten him as dry as could be hoped in the stormy summer humidity, she tossed the towel in the now-empty tub and slid her arms around him. "Look at us, all grown up!" she said, and she kissed him deeply before he could make any reply. His hands lost no time in finding her breasts, and she was not at all surprised to discover her old friend was well-versed in caressing them just right. She didn't care to think of how much experience he'd gained in that pastime over the years; but then, sex was a part of her job and he showed no signs of judging her for that. So she put any such concerns from her mind and enjoyed the natural progression of his first gentle strokes to firmer tweaks on her nipples while she ran her fingers all over his hairy torso. 

It seemed for a time that neither of them wanted to move the touching downward; perhaps neither of them wanted to go first. At last, Charlie did. Gwendolyn felt a pleasant tickle of anticipation even before his fingers found her vulva. Strange, she thought, that it should still be such a thrill after her entire body had been on display for him all this time; but it was. Unlike so many of the sailors she'd been with, he had a gentle way with teasing her lips; and since he'd done so well with her breasts, she was moist and ready to receive him. 

"Lovely touch," she murmured as he probed her with one finger. "Worth waiting for!"

"Oh good," Charlie said. "I haven't had as much practice with this as I should."

"I have, and you're doing a lovely job," she sighed. "Now no more self-doubt!" She wrapped one hand firmly around his hard cock and gave it a gentle but firm pull that clearly delighted him. Her grip on him grew firmer as his rubbing drove her further into a wonderful lather. Two years of hearing Peggy's operatic moans had taught her a lot about letting herself go vocally, and she put those lessons to great use now. Charlie was impressed, but also glad the window faced out over the sea; otherwise he'd have been concerned about the bar patrons downstairs hearing every note of Gwendolyn's pleasure. 

She came with a satisfied yelp, and then clamped down on him with her hand. "Now come to bed," she told him in no uncertain terms. She led him to the narrow bed and pushed him gently down, and marvelled at the spectacle of Charlie -- worldly wise Charlie, who had bedded women all over the world! -- gazing up adoringly at her. After climbing atop him, she took both his hands and placed them back on her breasts. "I don't believe you were done with these," she said, and was rewarded with him once again rubbing them in his own pleasant way as she took him in both hands and guided him inside her. 




Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse



"Oh, Wendy!" he gasped as her vagina enveloped him in its warm grip. 

"Call me Gwendolyn! We're grown up now!" As if to drive the point home, she gave him an intense inner squeeze just before she began rocking back and forth gently on him.

"Gwendolyn, yes! Such a lovely name! Such a lovely woman!"

"Th-thank you!" His pulsating sensation inside her was so intense she could scarcely string the words together. They were aware of the rain outside and the horror of earlier in the afternoon and the lifelong bond that had never been forgotten, but all that really mattered in that moment was the bonding of their bodies and their spirits. Now she kept her eyes open and gazed down at him, drinking in his beautiful body and his adoration of her own as she rode him into a second orgasm, this time helping along with her hands as she often did with the rescued sailors. The sensuous roar of her second orgasm brought him to his own first, and she felt him come with a rush and a yawp of his own. 

Neither of them said anything in the immediate afterglow. She slid off him and snuggled up alongside him, and they enjoyed the sound of the rain on the window and the roof and the din of drinkers in the bar. 

"I admire you," she said at last.

"For what?"

"For going back to sea after today. For sticking with what you love."

"Thanks."

"I'll miss you. Again."

"Not as much as you'd miss Martin's Isle if you left that life to be with me."

"You're right." 

She eventually stole downstairs to collect some dinner and a couple of beers for them, and they spent the night in the little room. In the morning, with his clothes finally dry, Charlie got up and dressed, and was off to the docks of Sauraquid to look into a next job. He saw Gwendolyn off at the kitchen door with a final kiss and a wish that her insubordination the day before wouldn't cause any trouble with Peggy. "I do hope I'll see you again, Charlie," she said, "Just not the way we met yesterday."

"I won't let that happen again," he vowed with that grin she recalled from their youth. "Next time I'm here, I'll look for you at the pub."

"Just don't grab at me in public," she warned. "Peggy wouldn't like that." As they were not in public just then, she let him enjoy one last caress of her breasts after she put her dress away over the door, and she kissed him goodbye. Then, without a look back, she leapt into the water and was gone. 

"Oh, Charlie," Lillie implored, "Do tell me you heard from Gwendolyn again and she was allowed to stay at Martin's Isle!"

"I have, and she was," Charlie said. "There's a letter for me now and then when I put in at certain ports. The last one was just a few months ago, actually. She's doing well, and they've got a new young woman who's joined them on Martin's Isle. So the tradition continues."

"So beautiful," Lillie said. "What a life to lead!"

"I imagine it's not all it's cracked up to be," Charlie said. "But it's certainly right for her."

"Lovely story, Charlie," I said. "Thank you. But I'm afraid I must get Lillie home. Her parents will be wondering soon if I don't. I hope you understand, Lillie," I added. 

"I do, of course," she said. We all stood up, and Lillie surprised us both by throwing herself at Charlie for a hug. "It's been lovely meeting you!" she said. "I hope I get to see half the adventure you have."

"Well, you can," Charlie said. "Sometimes one has to make her own adventure, but if I could do it, you can do it."

"Just tell me one last thing," Lillie said, pulling back from Charlie but still gripping at him. "You said she'd sent you a letter a few months ago. You wrote back, didn't you?"

Charlie withdrew a sealed letter from his coat pocket. "I did, and I'll be delivering it at the end of my next voyage. I'm sailing to Sauraquid the day after tomorrow."