We present an extract from Seaborne, the new novel by Nuala O'Connor, an intimate and thrilling portrayal of the life of 18th-century Irishwoman, Anne Bonny.
It's 1718 on Providence Island in the Bahamas, and recently married Anne Bonny is restless. When the so-called Gentleman Pirate Jack Rackam crosses her path, Anne must decide where her destiny lies...
Ever the Dock?
I feel eyes on my skin and look across the Abaco Inn to see a man regarding me. He wears flamboyant clothing: a coat of pale pink calico and a waistcoat red as rubies. He has no periwig and his dark hair sits to his shoulders and glistens like no hair on any man I have seen before. Here be a person who cares about his appearance but has the nonchalance of one who gives not a whit. I feel suddenly aware of my hasty dressing this morning and I pat my sleeves foolishly, as if that might neaten me. The man nods – I stare too long at him – then he removes his eyes from me. My hand flies to my throat in mortification to be watched when I put myself together so badly this day, but I also find I have enjoyed his gaze. I fluster, unsure where to put my eyes, and drink long from my beer. When Nell comes to refill my mug, I ask, 'Be that the famous Hornigold? I gather it must be.’
Nell laughs. ‘No, Missus Bonny. That be John Rackam, formerly of England and Cuba. Formerly quartermaster to Captain Vane.’ She gives a knowing squint.
‘I do not believe I have heard much of him.’
Nell tuts and swipes at the table with a rag. ‘Have not heard much of Rackam? Do you live on the moon, my lady?’ She chuckles and blots at the tabletop. ‘Well, I wager you have heard of Calico Jack?’
‘Surely. The first pirate to hoist a black pennant.’
Nell cackles. ‘He hoists a white one lately.’ She jerks her head in the man’s direction. ‘That be Calico. Calico Jack Rackam.’
I peer around Nell to observe again the famous man. ‘Truly? But he looks ordinary. Reserved, in spite of his finery.’
‘Quiet and reserved now, aye. But remember, he rose up against Vane and made himself captain of the Ranger. He be Captain Rackam now, for sure and certain. Captain Calico.’ I study the fellow and he looks directly at me. Addled, I hide behind Nell.
‘He has an impudent way of gazing, does he not?’
‘Nay, Missus Bonny, not so; Calico Jack has manners to sell. Up and down the islands they call him "the Gentleman Pirate".’ Nell trembles and laughs loudly. ‘Did you ever? Gentleman Pirate. Oh, my sacred stars,’ she says and, still laughing, she wanders away.
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Listen: Nuala O'Connor talks to Brendan O'Connor
I manoeuvre my body so that I face the window, but I can feel Calico Jack Rackam’s eyes on my neck like scorching embers. I put my palm to my nape so that he might see my marriage ring and, just as swiftly, snatch it down and hold my hand in my lap. My heart tumbles and I swallow hard of my beer to settle my own folly. What care I if this gussied up pirate knows whether I be wed or not? It matters little. I fiddle with my ring. Be I properly married, anyway – a real wife – if I do not love my husband? I feel rueful. Unsure. I wish my mother were here to advise me. I do not know how a body lives inside an unsuccessful union. Is there a way to leave that will not cause a fray? I sigh. Gabriel would never give me up easy, I know that. His regard for me be heartfelt, but mine for him never rose to where it should have been. I wish now that I had realised this before yoking myself to him. In the olden times in Ireland, Father told me, by law if a person said ‘I divorce you’, after a year of marriage, the deed were done. Would that life were so simple now.
I stare through the windowpanes and am startled from all thoughts when Jack Rackam puts his nose to the glass from outside, grins widely, tips his hat to me, then strolls away. I look behind and his table lies empty. How on this good earth did Rackam leave the Abaco so stealthily? He must have passed within a breath of where I sit. I peer out again to watch his easy stride down the cay, and I conjure his face that were so close on the other side of the windowpane a moment ago. What a mischievous look he wore to study me, as if he could fathom my thoughts and, further, they amused him. What eyes the man has – dangers lurk in their darkness, to be sure. But they be kindly too, somehow; gentle. Perhaps his reputation for softness and chivalry be true.
Seaborne is published by New Island
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