Wednesday. 8.30am.

Portsmouth. The Admiral's Tea Shop.

Today is exactly four years since the death of Admiral James Norrington. Funny that that date should still feature so highly on my yearly calendar.

I'd like to say that I'd grown up a little and possibly managed to move on too in those years, but it would be a lie.

However hard I try to pretend otherwise, I really haven't changed that much.

The anniversary of his death dawned bright and sunny, as if even the weather was mocking my obscure sadness. I opened my little teashop as usual, welcoming my regulars and trying to forget my commodore in the drudge of everyday life.

I drank a heartfelt toast to my ex-employer, but apart from that I was adamant my old heartbreak would not spoil my new life.

But as ever, when I thought that I might be happy, something has to happen and suddenly I'm no longer happy. I'd had four years of uninterrupted normalcy - something bad had to be brewing.

xXx

Wednesday. 12.00

Portsmouth. The Admiral's Tea Shop.

Noon. One half-empty teashop. Five cups of fresh tea. Three plates of homemade biscuits.

Then the bell above the door jangled, announcing the arrival of a new customer.

"Good afternoon, Miss Baker," a familiar voice called.

I smiled at Gillette as he strode up to the counter.

"Good day, Commodore," I said, my voice catching slightly on the familiar title. "What are you doing here?"

"We have a rare day off, and I thought I'd spend it with you," he replied.

I tried to look flattered but this was possibly the worst day he could have visited me.

There was much worse to come.

"I wondered if you'd like to go out somewhere?" he asked tentatively, his usual cockiness mellowed slightly by my presence.

A date? I thought grimly, but I couldn't say no.

"Of course," I replied.

"Excellent!" Gillette exclaimed, beaming at me.

I didn't have the heart to spoil his happiness. It was so easy for me to please him, just a simple smile. I couldn't help thinking of Norrington and me; I didn't want to cause Gillette the same heartbreak but I couldn't summon up the courage to explain to Gillette that he was fighting a losing battle.

There was a reason I still kept a record of Norrington's death.

Maybe Gillette would have understood if I told him I reread the last letter I'd ever got from Norrington every night before I went to sleep, or that I still had a button off his uniform that I'd never had a chance to sew back on before his death, but I doubted it.

Gillette was amazingly resistant to hints like that.

I'm sure I'd still have found myself ready to board The Dolphin with him that evening.

Frankly I wasn't looking forward to the trip, not considering my bad luck involving boats, and unfortunately it seemed my bad luck was going to hold, even more spectacularly than I'd first anticipated.

After four years of uninterrupted normality, it seemed my past was back with a vengeance.

xXx

Wednesday. 9.00pm.

Off the coast of England. Aboard The Dolphin.

This could not be happening.

I gripped the side rail so hard my knuckles turned white; I strained to see the ship bearing down on us. It didn't seem possible that we could be attacked; I could still see England behind us.

"Get below," Gillette ordered.

"It's unusual to be attacked in this situation," I heard one of the sailors mutter. "I think it's bad luck bought about by having a lady on board."

I had to agree.

I'd decided long ago that I was a walking, talking magnet for foul fortune.

"This is serious, Annie, " Gillett told me. "Get below."

I complied quickly, my fear a sickening knot in my stomach.

I could see why pirates would want this ship. As well as me it carried a cargo of expensive spices, not yet unloaded since it's trip to the east. I silently cursed my luck then sent a quick prayer to the Almighty, hoping He was still listening after the volume of repetitive Norrington-centric prayers I'd sent once upon a time.

A sickening bang interrupted my thoughts. I blanched as I realised we were being fired on. I'd been involved in one battle at sea and didn't want to repeat the experience.

If I ever got out of this I feverently promised that from that day forward I would keep both my feet firmly on dry land.

There were more crashes from above, followed by the sound of running feet and screamed orders. I wanted to clamp my hands over my ears and shut out the world, but I fought the feeling. Instead I crept to the ladder, a spade clutched in my hands.

Someone started down the ladder, and I nearly had their head off with the spade before I realised it was Gillette.

"Come with me," he ordered, grabbing my wrist.

Irritated by his tone, I pulled my hand away.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"We have to get out of here," he told me.

I nodded and he took my hand again, as we snuck up onto the deck and made our way to one of the small boats. I tried to ignore the battles going on around us. It was obvious, even to me, that the Dolphin was out numbered and out gunned and I didn't rate our chances too high.

Gillette helped me into one of the boats, dispatching a pirate who tried to stop us. I'd been able to see land earlier but I couldn't anymore; the idea of rowing away seemed slightly bizarre.

"Get in," Gillette ordered, and faster than I would have thought possible we were underway.

A bullet thudded into the boat beside me and I shrieked. More followed but then we were out of range. Gillette stopped rowing and the boat bobbed serenely on the water; it seemed happily oblivious to the battle raging a little way away.

As the battle reach its climax I looked away.

This wasn't my world. I was a maid at heart - I worked in a teashop. I wasn't used to pirates and cannons and death, although one way or another I'd seen my fair share of all of them.

Then behind me the ocean went quiet.

"Is it over?" I asked.

Gillette nodded, telling me the pirate ship was going. I sighed, relieved, but then paused as I noticed Gillette's face turn suddenly ashen.

"What?" I asked, turning round to see what he'd seen.

Another ship had mysteriously joined the scene and I realised with a jolt that I'd seen it before. It was a difficult ship to forget.

"It can't be-" I whispered.

As I watched it I spotted someone familiar, William Turner, calling orders from aboard the ship, but he was dead wasn't he? His crew started going over the Dolphin, rounding up men and helping them away from their ravaged ship.

"What's happening?" I asked.

Gillette didn't answer; he was looking at something on the mystery ship. I followed his eyes and alighted on something impossible.

"James Norrington," I said softly, not believing my own eyes.

Then I think I fainted.