I protested, lifting my hands in a gesture of helplessness.“But it’s true!Your cock is a truncheon.I’ve said that since I first saw it.Felt it.Got ploughed by it!”
“That may be so, but I don’t need her saying those words.In your bloody voice.All the fucking time.”
“I’ll talk to Domingo.”
“What on earth is he going to do about the situation?He barely has control over that bloody bird!”
I frowned.“How dare you speak of Esmaralda that way?She is Domingo’s dear pet and companion, and I—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.I need coffee,” he said, letting go of my jacket and shoving me forward.“Get me some, and perhaps I shall forgive you.”
I stumbled into the galley, followed by a vexed Captain Martin, and sure enough, Domingo’s small black and yellow mynah bird—the notorious-by-nowEsmaralda—greeted us from her perch on the pot rack.
“What a trollop!”she said in the woman’s voice, and then, in mine, said, “The captain’s cock is a truncheon!”
“Domingo!”I yelled as I didn’t see him nearby.
“For fuck’s sake,” the captain sighed, eyeing the bird with particular enmity.
A young fellow came out of the back rooms, gathering his long black hair with a red ribbon, an untied chartreuse robe floating around him as he moved towards us.He was wearing a colourful pair of cropped trousers, a linen shirt embroidered with daisies, and a rolled blue scarf as a belt.And red velvet bedroom slippers of which I was profoundly envious as they looked much more comfortable than the scuffed and stained, second-hand deck shoes the captain made me wear.
The pair of slippers were one of the few things, along with the robe and the bird, Domingo had been able to bring when we’d escaped the Turnkey tavern and Cayonne.
But I didn’t like to think about Cayonne.
“Esmaralda!Must you keep on?Shush now.Here’s a caraway seed.”
The bird took the offering from Domingo’s delicate fingers, and eyed the small pile of seeds he placed near her.
“I am so sorry, Captain Martin.Simon.For the life of me, I cannot get her to stop saying that.”
Domingo glanced at me and barely maintained his serious, apologetic expression.
“Is there coffee, Domingo?”Captain Martin asked.“I smell a brew, I believe.”
“Yes, of course.There’s a fresh pot on the hob,” he said, gesturing towards the iron stove in the centre of the room.
I strode past him, grabbed a stoneware mug from the cupboard that latched when the door was closed, in case of rough seas, filled the vessel with hot coffee from the steaming pot, then carried the mug to the captain, offering the hot drink with a cheerful smile.
He scowled as he took it, eyeing Esmaralda, who munched happily on her seed, which she held in one little claw as she bent to peck at it with her tiny beak.Remarkable that such a diminutive creature could make so much of a ruckus and create such enmity in the captain, who was otherwise quite a relaxed and confident man.With a cock the size of his, he should be proud.I didn’t honestly know why Esmaralda’s frequent proclamations upset him so much.
After he’d taken a sip or two of his coffee, his fierce expression relaxed.Domingo and I had filled mugs for ourselves and joined him at the table.
“Have a seat, Dinesh,” Domingo said.“I’ll bring you some food in a moment.”
“Thank you, yes, that would be wonderful.”Captain Martin, whose goodwill had returned with the black coffee coursing through his veins, took a seat on the bench next to me, even offering Domingo a kindly smile.“How are you?”
“Well…” Domingo said, his face lighting up at Dinesh’s question.“Despite being at the crew’s beck and call all day, slinging potatoes, and chopping vegetables, I’m doing rather well.You?”
Dinesh rolled his eyes.“At least I didn’t assign you to the upper decks.You don’t have to be up in the weather or climbing the rigging.”
“Yes, that’s mighty kind of you,” Domingo murmured with mock gratitude.“Because God knows that’s the kind of work my previous life prepared me for.”
Dinesh grinned and shrugged.He took another sip of coffee.“You never know.”
“Well… I might be good at the job.But I wouldn’t be able to maintain my absolutely ravishing sense of style, now, would I?”
Dinesh inclined his head.“I suppose that’s true.”His gaze drifted over Domingo’s clothing, at least what he could see above the edge of the table across from us.“And what a tragic loss that would be.”His tone was sardonic, but he smiled.
