Inside the Wonkas’ factory:

*Madame and Willy walk into the living room, escorted by four men.  The other two men still stand guard by the baby room.  Madame sits down on the couch, clasps her hands in front of her*

Willy *sits next to Madame, the leader of the group, named Jake, the one who had hit him the day before, sits across from them, and the last three stand around them*  Listen, Jake ...

Jake *stops him*  'ave you told her why we're 'ere yet, Wonka?  *Willy shakes his head*

Madame:  I'm tired of asking.

Jake:  And I'm tired of waitin'.  Get on wit it Wonka.  Tell 'er.

Willy  *pauses, looks at floor*  Jake and I went to high school together. Jake was going to be valedictorian.  But he was a dealer. *looks up at him*  I bought a few times ...

Jake *laughs*  You did more than a few times, Wonka, you were a frequent customer.

Willy *glares as Madame eyes him*  Yea ... but anyway ... one day, one of the teachers found everything ... a locker full ... she pointed me right out and told me to tell or I was gonna get it.

Jake  *glares angrily*  It didn't take you a hesitation to say me.  *turns to Madame*  I just got out of jail...so many years...all wasted...my LIFE.  All because of you *turns back to Willy*  So I want revenge.  Why is it YOU get to live the high life while I've got nothing?

Willy:  Because I didn’t deal!

Jake *stands up, yells*  YOU WERE AS GUILTY AS I WAS!  *Madame hears one of the babies begin to cry, tears rolling down her face, stands up walks to the door, the guards block her, but Jake tells them to let her go, she walks in and shuts the door behind her*

Jake *smiles to Willy*  Nice job, Wonka.  She finally knows.

Willy *covers his face*  No ...

Outside the Wonkas’ factory:

Manouche *stands in front of the Chocolate Factory, her hands gripping the bars of the fence, staring up at the dark, silent building.  She’s trying desperately to tune in to Willy, as they have done at times, and it occurs to her now that it’s funny they have never talked about this newfound power they have between them.  It’s not as strong as she’s experienced with another dreamer, like Raven or Malachi, and sometimes Abberline … but there’s something there, and has been ever since he and Madame took Malachi’s mind-reading potion months ago.  She concentrates with all her might, closing her eyes, then slowly opening them to gaze at the factory … but it’s no use.  She senses nothing.  Well, that’s not entirely true.  She knows damn well they’re in the factory, and she knows something is wrong.  Her initial reaction to the flyer they’d posted was one of hurt … how could they not confide in her, their loving sister, the woman who had delivered their babies, after all they’d been through together?  Then she quickly pushed that feeling aside, immediately chiding herself for her selfishness.  This wasn’t about her, she told herself sternly.  Something was wrong, and there wasn’t time for the self-indulgence of feeling sorry that they hadn’t brought her into their confidence.  She tries one more time, concentrates, then opens her eyes and sees that the factory is just as dark and foreboding as it was when she first arrived about twenty minutes before.  She sighs, blinks away tears, sends a message anyway*  Willy, me brother … don’t hide from me, savvy?  I jus’ might be able to help.  Give me a chance, mate.  All me love t’ you an’ me sister, an’ the babies.  *she waits a few minutes more, then shakes her head, turns and walks away*

*She heads through town, on her way down to the river to walk back to her home.  She passes Chez Roux, then comes upon the docks, and is surprised to see Kat – or is it Kidd? – and Constable Crane on the deck of The Apparition.  She decides to wait a few minutes, see what’s going on.  She has a strange foreboding … She sits on a bench near The Apparition’s slip, lights a cigarette*

On The Apparition:

Ichy *at Chez Roux, waiting patiently though he's sure that Kat won't come, drinking a soda, sees Kidd walk by, towards the port, and he follows her to the Apparition and stops her on the deck*  You are the one who can save and protect Kat.  I have tried to get her to listen, but she won't.

Kidd *Nods to Ichy*  No worries, luv.  Abby finally pushed 'er o'er the edge.  I be in charge now.  I saw yer letter and pictures and I 'ave no intention o' returnin' te that 'ouse.  Savvy?

Ichy *nods too, seriously*  I should probably be sorry to hear that, but this is best for Kat.  She will understand.  And she is safer here at the Apparition.

Kidd:  'er understandin' be not required.  But it be for the best.  In the end, she'll be acceptin' it.

At Bournemouth House:

Abberline *wipes away the letter and the photos to the floor, and the note, feels that he must get out of the house, not knowing where, but he knows that he's definitely not going to the Apparition.  Nor the Office.  And he doesn't want to see either Manouche nor Godley, both of them just trying to convince him that everything will be fine once he only talks with Kat ...  So there is only one place he can go to.  He reluctantly opens the door to the tavern, and it seems even more hazier and dirtier than ever, and he walks to the bar and orders a drink, and the barkeep still remembers him so well that he doesn't even ask what he wants, and he knows he needs more drinks to numb his mind before he can walk down the stairs again ... *

At Chateau Blanchefort:

Portsmith *holding the pendant hanging by the chain watches it swing lightly as if it had a life of its own.*  This is good stuff, Dean.  How do I use it?  Finally I will know the location of the soul box.  How does it work?

Corso *cringes, coughs, takes a sip of the excellent Chateau de Blanchefort wine sitting in a luxurious armchair, enjoying the posh surroundings, the expensive furniture, the priceless decorations and the paintings that he himself has helped the Commander to acquire.  This is real life and he has no intention whatever to give it up once more, not for anyone or anything*  Er … I have to work on the rituals, they seem quite complex, and my sources give contradictory information.  Remember the summoning of Shadows at the stone circle?  Anything can go horribly wrong because of one slight misunderstanding, one misspelt word is enough.  I have to study more.  And furthermore, it seems that these rituals can only be performed at certain dates or times of the day.

Portsmith *puts it down disappointed*  Well I have to wait then.  *looks at him sharply*  You will do all you can, Dean?

Corso:  Of course, of course!  Just trust me.

Portsmith *sighs*  As always .... *she takes a sip of her wine, remembering how to hold the glass and how to taste the wine the right way she learned from Lady Cynthia.*  Listen, while you are working on it, you could do arrangements for a transportation I got.  Directly from Moscow.

Corso *looks up, nods eagerly*  Yes, of course I will take care of that.  *grins*

Portsmith:  Manouche may boast as much as she wants that she's richer than me, but what good will it do to her when she has no taste or style.  She still walks around in her pirate rags.

Corso:  Oh, yes absolutely.  You are right as always.  *he decides that it's not worth mentioning that Manouche's house seemed to him like a very tasteful place altogether … *

Portsmith:  Oh yes, there's one thing more that these nouveau riches brought to my mind.  Get someone to paint that family tree of mine you made.  I want it in the hall.

At the docks:

Ichy *to Kidd, on the deck of The Apparition*  And what happens now?  Will you be sailing away now?

Kidd *Raising an eyebrow*  In case ye 'aven't noticed, I be carryin' a bit of excess baggage.  Wouldn't be o'erly smart te sail into the unknown at the moment.  Savvy??

Manouche *sitting on the dock, watching Kidd – or is it Kat – and Constable Crane talk on the deck of The Apparition, trying to decide if she should join them, see what’s going on; then she sees Raven coming toward her, walking slowly.  She calls to him*  Raven, luv … *he approaches her, head down*  What’s wrong, mate?

Raven *looks at her steadily, starts to speak, then changes his mind.  He sits on the bench next to her, holds out his hands.  Manouche turns toward him, takes his hands, they close their eyes and concentrate, and he shares the vision with her of what happened at the house, Kat’s talk with Abberline, the note Kidd wrote, and Abberline leaving the house*

Manouche *opens her eyes, slightly dizzy, looks at him*  Oh, bloody ‘ell … *shakes her head sadly, glances up at the deck of the ship, then back to Raven*  So that’s Kidd up there, then.  Did ye want t’ try an’ talk with ‘er?

Raven *shrugs*  I don’t guess it would make any difference.  *looks up at ship*  She looks busy with Constable Crane.

Manouche:  I ‘ave t’ go see yer dad.

Raven:  He … he doesn’t want to see you.  He doesn’t want to see anyone …

Manouche:  I understand … but … he came t’ me when I were in that den, an’ I were most appreciative.  Seems t’ me it’s th’ least I can do.  If he tells me t’ leave ‘im alone, I’ll leave ‘im be.  *pauses*  Do ye want t’ come with me, luv?

Raven *shakes his head*  No, I think I’ll just go back home.

Manouche *looks at him anxiously*  Ye don’t ‘ave to be alone right now, savvy?  Ye could go to Malachi’s, or ye could go to Alifi.  She’s stayin’ in Malachi’s old place fer a time, it’s right near th’ tavern.  I could take ye there, an’ collect ye after I’ve seen yer dad.

Raven *thinks for a minute, then nods slowly, his face unemotional*  I guess that’d be okay.

Manouche *nods, rises, takes his hand in hers, shakes it, they leave the docks and head for From Hell Court.*

At From Hell Court:

Abberline *downs the last drink, leaves a bunch of notes not counting them and finally, goes slowly down the stairs, little unsure, his head already feeling oddly light, and he takes in the familiar scene, all those dirty couches and the men lying around, and the smoke floating in the air, he buys a pipe and finds a free couch and the smoke in the air is affecting him already, he's been away for so long that his senses have grown as sensitive as they were when he found opium the very first time ...  He lies down and feels the blessed numbness setting in, he closes his eyes slowly, and immediately he's in a hot dark place ... there are people around him, and he sees coarse wooden tables, and a roof made of straw ... and he knows that he's in a bar in Fiji, trying to forget the last letter he got from Victoria ... he' s feeling lonely among the buzz and the drunks all around him, and he's waiting for the effects of the drug to set in ... and he sees someone who is also sitting alone, a girl alone by a drink, she's got long dark hair and distinct Indian features, and she looks very beautiful and lonely to him, she chases all the men bothering her with some well chosen words and menacing looks which make them draw away quickly, and which make him smile ... *

Manouche *having dropped Raven off with Alifi, enters tavern, is dismayed to see that Abberline isn’t at the bar.  She looks toward the back stairs, takes a deep breath, walks through the bar, descends the stairs, squints through the heavy smoke of the den … she finally spots him, on a couch, he’s already indulged, and he has a smile on his face.  She approaches him, crouches down, speaks gently*  Inspector … Fred … this place ain’t fer you anymore, mate.  I understand if ye wish t’ be left alone, an’ if that’s what ye want, I promise I’ll leave ye to it.  But I ‘aven’t forgotten how ye came t’ find me ‘ere when I were low … so what goes ‘round comes ‘round, ay?  I ‘ave a lendin’ ear, if ye need one.  Or I can leave ye on yer onesies, if ye prefer.

Abberline * knows that he will soon try to approach the girl an that he will be treated like the all others, and he knows he will try later on again, and get her talking with him, that's all he wants, someone to share a lonely evening at a bar far away from home, and he's then hearing a familiar voice infiltrating his vision, he's frowning, his long eyelashes flutter, and then he opens his eyes and sees Manouche, and though he wants to be alone, he lets her sit beside him*  I have always belonged here.  Everything else is just a lie and talking doesn't help.  *seeing her beginning to rise, he quickly takes her arm*  No, I don't need you to go, please stay and talk to me.

Manouche *looks at him sympathetically*  As ye wish.  We don’t ‘ave to say a word.  I reckon in recent times I’ve come t’ understand more why ye think sometimes talkin’ is useless.  *she sits on the floor beside the couch, lights a cigarette*  Raven told me what ‘appened.  I’m truly sorry, mate.  I won’t try an’ tell ye it’ll all work out, ‘cause it’s impossible t’ say.  *glances around the room*  But I do hope ye’ll reconsider, an’ not fall back into chasin’ th’ dragon again.  It nearly killed ye last time, don’t ferget.  An’ whereas ye may be feelin’ low an’ alone at th’ moment, ye still ‘ave a son who loves ye an’ needs ye … an’ plenty o’ mates who care about ye.  *pauses, smokes for a moment*  If Bournemouth House is painful to ye right now, ye an’ Raven could come stay at me guest house fer a time.  Th’ place is plenty big, th’ pair o’ ye could ‘ave it all to yerselves fer as long as ye need, till ye get things sorted an’ feel ready t’ go home.  I’d leave ye to yer solitude, ye wouldn’t hear a peep from me unless y’ or Raven wish it.  Leastways, it’d be a better alternative than ‘avin’ ye messin’ about ‘ere.  Jus’ a thought, luv, yer both always welcome, I’m sure I don’t ‘ave to tell ye that.  *smiles slightly* 

Abberline:  And I will lose him too ... I can see it.  Please let me hold your hand.  *takes her hand and shuts his eyes again, feels how her touch is somehow calming and soothing him, or is it the drugs, but he feels how his heart slows down, and he feels to begin drowsy*  It wasn't much a better place we met in .... in Fiji ... just a bar .... *he sees the same scene again, and on the terrace under the dark night he can now hear the voice of the ocean distinctly in the background, and the cicadas in the grass, and feel the scent of some southern flowers he doesn't know, and there are pirates ships with tall masts anchored in the bay, and some drumming at the beach*  I don't want to go home, Manouche.  I want to sell the place.  I don't need it anymore.  Talk to me, about anything.  Tell me about your house ....

Manouche *holds his hand comfortingly in both of hers, as she did when he was ill and she and Blake and Godley were watching over him*  Why, Inspector, ye’ll never lose Raven, an' I'm glad t' tell you that as many times as ye need to hear it.  He loves ye, he wants a home, but ye ‘ave to make sure he knows you want him, savvy?  *she squeezes his hand, realizes she’s able to pick up on some of the visions in his head, dreamer-like, and she sees the bar in Fiji; her eyes fill with tears as she sees a young, brave Kat, pretty little thing with her strong Indian features, taking care of herself as best she can, sitting alone in the rough tavern … *  Blimey, she’s so appealin’ … I can easily see why ye were drawn to ‘er.  *she looks at Abberline, smiles*  Y’know, I think I remember that bar, from th’ time I were in Fiji.  Who knows, per’aps th’ three of us crossed paths at some point.  *the vision fades, then she looks at him again, in surprise*  Sell Bournemouth House?  Don’t be too hasty, mate.  When me Mr. Blake first … when I lost ‘im, an’ … I were so devastated, so distraught, I didn’t know what t’ do … I wanted to run away, everything around me hurt, like there was pins stickin’ me no matter which way I turned.  I can’t say th’ hurt is gone, but I muddle through.  But th' point I'm tryin' to make is, it’s good t’ wait a bit, not act rashly right after a shock, savvy?  Give it some time, don’t do somethin’ in th’ heat o’ the moment that ye may regret.  *she thinks of her property, smiles*  Me new home … by th’ powers, luv, I’m mad fer th’ place.  I even gave it a fancy name, jus’ fer a joke, prob’ly to irritate Portsmith as much as anythin’.  *laughs*  It’s called Rartigillichal, that’s a Rom word, means nightingale.  It were nothin’ more than an abandoned old mill on th’ river, nobody wanted it, but it spoke t’ me th’ minute I saw it, like I was home fer th’ first time in me life.  I reckon I don’t ‘ave to tell ye what a powerful feelin’ that is fer anyone with Gypsy blood in their veins.  So I bought it, an’ I’ve fixed it up just as I like it.  There’s a main house, a guest house, an’ the original mill house, lotsa stone an’ exposed wood beams.  No fancy rare antiques t’ speak of, like th’ ones Portsmith is so fond o’ borrowin’ with every intention o’ givin’ back … *laughs again* … but it’s right comfortable an’ invitin’, if I do say so meself.  There are fireplaces all over it, even in most o’ th’ bedrooms, an’ there’s plenty o’ good food an’ drink … an’ it’s right on th’ river, jus’ outside o’ town, so quiet an’ peaceful.  An’ at night, ye can see a thousand stars overhead … I never knew I could love a place so much … *she’s interrupted as she notices someone standing over them; she looks up, sees Ivan scowling down at her*  Well, look who’s ‘ere …

Ivan *snarling*  So you’re too good for us now, is that it?

Manouche *shrugs*  Jus’ found other ways t’ spend me time, is all.

Ivan *nods toward Abberline*  But I see he’s back.  *smirks*  I knew he wouldn’t stay away long.  Now get him outta here, he’s taking up space an’ I haven’t seen him spend any money since he first got here.

Manouche *suppressing her anger, digs in a pocket, brings forth some money*  ‘Ere y’ are, y’ bastard.  How ‘bout ye make yerself useful, bring us a coupla drinks?  We’re payin’ customers, savvy?

Ivan *scowls at her again, leans down, closer into her face*  You watch yourself, bitch.

Manouche *glares at him fiercely, her voice low*  Ye do th’ same, luv.  I’d hate t’ have to give ye another lesson in manners.  *Ivan stares at her, remembers how she outsmarted him the night in the woods, and relents.  He nods, stands up, without another word goes to the bar to have a couple of glasses of brandy sent over to them*

Manouche *mutters*  Bastard.  *she turns back to Abberline, squeezes his hand reassuringly*  I hate to agree with anythin’ he has to say, but … removin’ ourselves from these premises ain’t a bad idea.  But take all th’ time ye need.  *voice grim*  No one ‘ere’s gonna push us around, savvy?

Abberline *listening to her, but every time he closes his eyes he's back in Fiji.*  But I was the only one that night not trying to pick her up ... I wanted to get home to my wife ... I just wanted to talk with someone who seemed as unhappy as I was ... Ironic, isn't it ... I would have remembered you, Manouche.  *he opens his eyes when Ivan disturbs them, listens to them talking, frowns*  Let me take care of him … I have my gun.  *but he doesn't make any effort to rise up, just looks at her*  I can pay for my stuff.  Maybe it would just be better to stay here, I'm not feeling well, and if I fall ill again I don't want to burden you, I know that you have problems of your own.  Or I could go to Godley.  If I leave this place with you, promise me that I can drink myself senseless tonight?  I'll manage, just like I have managed before.

Manouche *puts her hands on his shoulders*  Stay put, mate, don’t mess with Ivan, he ain’t worth it.  He’s also a favorite with th’ Commander, fer th’ money he brings in.  Ye don’t want t’ be gettin’ on ‘er bad side jus’ ‘cause one o’ her favorite employees made some disparagin’ remarks to us.  ‘specially me.  Hell, she’d prob’ly give Ivan a raise if she knew how he treated me.  *shakes her head as if to rid it of the memory.  She looks up as another man approaches them with two glasses of brandy; she takes them, hands one to Abberline*  Inspector, ye can get drunk as a lord tonight, wherever ye choose t’ do it.  Sergeant Godley an’ shared a fine drinkin’ bout recently, so I’m no stranger to th’ healin’ power of such obliteration at times.  But please, not ‘ere.  Not in this horrible place, on yer onesies.  I … I couldn’t leave ye ‘ere with a clean conscience, mate, ye deserve so much better.  Let’s ‘ave our drinks, an’ then I’ll help ye get anywhere ye wish t’ be, all right?  Yer no burden t’ me, I wouldn’t offer t’ help ye if I didn’t want to.  An’ I’m sure Sergeant Godley would be glad t’ see ye as well.  *grins*  Per’aps the three of us should get roarin’ drunk tonight.  Raven’s safe with Alifi … *thinks of Blake, blinks tears away, sighs*  Drinkin’ meself senseless is soundin’ more an’ more like a bloody good idea right now, to my way o’ thinkin’.  *clinks her glass against his, drinks the brandy*

Abberline *shrugs, takes the brandy and drinks it*  I am used to places like this, but whatever you want.  I'm not going home, and I don't want to go to Godley, he just wants know what's happened ... I don't want to talk, not to him, not to you ...  So I guess I have to take your offer, just for the night, I'll be gone by the morning.  I'll find some place for me.

Manouche *nods*  We ‘ave an accord.  No talkin’, mate.  *they finish their drinks, she helps him up, they make their way up the stairs, and out of the tavern.  She leads him down to the river, and they follow it to Rartigillichal, saying very little, smoking a number of cigarettes between them during the somewhat lengthy walk.  She steals glances at him from time to time, is sorry to see that the pretty evening and the peace and quiet as they get farther away from town are all lost on him, he’s completely preoccupied with thoughts of Kat, of his little daughter, of Raven … she refrains from saying anything, or sharing any thoughts, feeling it’s not right … since losing Blake, she has come to understand the value of privacy for working through sorrowful feelings.  She thoroughly savors her time alone at her home right now, despite well-meaning friends who would gladly spend time with her if she wished it.  They finally arrive at Rartigillichal, and she takes him straight to the guest house.  They enter, she switches on a few low lights, brings him to the cosy little living room, indicates for him to sit down anywhere, and he drops down into a large chair near the fireplace.  She goes to the buffet, finds a bottle of brandy and two glasses, brings them to the table in front of the sofa, sets them down, pours drinks for them both, hands him a glass.*  ‘Ere y’ are, Inspector … I’ll share a nightcap with ye, an’ then I’ll leave ye alone, as ye wish.  Ye ‘ave th’ whole house to yerself, make yerself at home, build a fire if ye like, help yerself to anythin’ ‘ere.  Ye can leave whenever ye want, an’ ye don’t ‘ave to find me an’ say goodbye.  I understand.  *holds up glass, smiles slightly*  Cheers, mate.  *drinks*

Abberline *smiles slightly, drinks, pours immediately a second one*  Thanks, I don't need anything else for now.  And I'll find me some place tomorrow to stay at, a small apartment or something like that.  I know that you want to be alone.  And I am not going to be good company, I just want to drink.  *He opens his cigarette box, and sees the small silver hoop he's carrying with him, he knows that she saw it too and he takes one cigarette and lights it*  Good night, Manouche.

Manouche *sees the hoop, surprised and touched.  She nods, finishes her drink, sets the glass on the table*  Good night, Inspector.  There's plenty 'ere to drink, have whatever ye want.  Kitchen an' bath are that way, bedroooms are upstairs.  Stay 'ere as little or as long as ye need, ye won't be disturbin' me, I promise ye.  An' if ye need anythin', jus' holler.  *she walks over to the door, stops, turns, looks at him*  Oh, an' Fred ... I would've remembered you, too.  *she smiles, turns, leaves the house, heads back for the main house*

Manouche *after leaving Abberline in the guest house, returns to the main house, sees someone standing at the door*  Blimey, Malachi!  What brings ye ‘ere at this hour, luv?

Malachi *grins*  I was in the neighborhood … *he holds up a bottle of absinthe*  Now I know you’ve been wanting to be alone … but I thought, it’s been awhile, and maybe you’d like some company.

Manouche *looks back at guest house*  Aye … y’know, mate, yer timin’ is excellent.  As it turns out, I’m in th’ mood fer company tonight.  *looks at Malachi, nods toward guest house*  Inspector Abberline is ‘ere fer th’ night.  He an’ Kat ‘ave had a disagreement, an’ he didn’t want t’ go home.  I’d rather hoped he would be interested in sharin’ a good many drams together, ‘cause truth be told, I’m missin’ Mr. Blake tonight, an’ I were in th’ mood to commiserate.  But he insists he’d rather be alone.  Well, I understand that’un, so I didn’t force th’ issue. 

Malachi *looks toward house*  Ah, he and Kat’ll be okay.  They always patch things up between ‘em.  *he looks down at her, concerned*  But there’s something else on your mind.  What is it?

Manouche:  Well … it’s somethin’ that occurred t’ me when I saw Kidd earlier.  She were standin’ on th’ deck o’ Th’ Apparition, savvy?  An’ she were lookin’ fer all th’ world like she were wantin’ to hit th’ high seas again.  Obviously, she ain’t goin’ anywhere fer a bit, in ‘er condition … ahh, Kat’s condition … but I want t’ remind her that I’m still ‘er boatswain, an’ ready fer work if she wants me.  *smiles*  It’s most appealin’, th’ thought … Kidd an’ I ain’t been on an adventure in a long time.

Malachi:  It probably would do you a world of good.  *smiles*  But before you set sail, let’s have a few drinks first.

Manouche *grins, steps past him, opens the door*  C’mon in, mate.  *they enter the house, she closes the door*