‘I am a witch, but only in training. I do not know why we remember now, only that if our father was alive he would explain everything.’
‘But he is not alive, and I am captain of this ship,’ he says, with a little flick of his long red hair. For a moment he looks at me – it is difficult for him to tolerate the fact his father lied to him. I understand how he feels. I am still angry at my mother for allowing this to happen.
‘Out father kept a diary,’ I say. ‘In a leather bound book. Look in there and you will see I’m not lying to you.’
‘I thank you not to refer to my father as yours,’ he says, but there is something in his eyes. He knows of the diary, I am sure of it.
He doesn’t say anything more, but leaves me alone. The door isn’t locked behind him this time. I can still hear him muttering about spells, and witches, but his tone is softer.
I wish I were back at the farm, corn waving to the wind, with its golden smile. I want to ask her why I was taken from the sea. I get it is dangerous aboard a ship, and my last memories of my ship is being saved by my big brother. He hid our wagon in one of the lifeboats. Told me to be quiet. We hid in the dark until the battle was over.
Perhaps she had her reasons. The discipline of running a farm, on her own, and without help. I should be proud of her. I was strong because she taught me to be strong.