Willy *stares at them with intent disgust, then looks at Portsmith*  Would you mind if we had a seat?  I'm afraid this discussion will make my knees go out if I don't.  *he smiles shyly as they sit*  Portsmith, I was wondering if you could help me interpret a dream.  One that involved you.

Portsmith:  Sure, we can go to my study.  Goodbye, Nancy, goodbye Sid!  *she leads him through the great hall to her cosy study and gestures at the sofa, where she sits beside him, trying to glance whether he looks at her fishnet stockinged legs.  She already had in her quick mind concluded that the only thing that would make Willy's knees weak was to confess that he's leaving his family for her, so she is a bit disappointed to hear about just a dream*  A dream?  I am no gypsy fortune teller.  But go on and tell me.  *with renewed interest*  I was in your dream?

Willy *sits calmly, taking a deep breath and preparing to see the haunting images again*  Portsmith, I am aware you are no gypsy, but this must mean something ... *he pauses again*  In this dream, you stood in a dark room and pointed me towards a door.  I went inside and you locked me inside this dark room which was barely lit by a candle.  I had hit the door for a while, thinking you'd unlock it, but three doors across the room caught my attention.  I opened one and saw the most horrific thing ... my absolute worst fear ... *he quickly buries his head as the images begin to reappear.  He forgets how to speak as he sees Madame*

Portsmith *her curiosity kicks in*  I wonder why you saw me in your dream unless you have been thinking of me.  And what is your worst fear?  I am sure you will feel a lot better when you have got it out.  *she moves a little closer, frowning and genuinely concerned*  You have to tell about the dream, Willy.  Not that I think they are more than figments of imagination, and being a creative person yours must be very vivid indeed.  What can be so bad? *she tries in earnest to think what would be horrible for him*  Oompas on a strike?  An accident at the factory and problems with insurance?  They are a tricky lot.  Loss of money?  Disrespect from reporters?

Willy *lifts his head up and rests it on his knuckles*  The death of my wife and children.  *he continues as Portsmith stares on in silence*  I saw ... this .. woman *he hesitates to mention who because of Portsmith's status* ... she cut off my wife's head and held it in her hand, laughing.  *he shudders*  When I looked down, I saw her body.  Next to it, all of my children.  Their body parts had all been severed.  *he hides his head again*  It was horrific ...

Portsmith *almost puts her hand on his shoulder*  Oh.  *contemplates the scene for a while, but decides that he would be no fun if his all family got murdered.  He's kinda emotional in that way.  Then she brightens up*  But I have heard that there is always some truth in dreams.  I mean, they somehow relate to events or emotions or thoughts ... It was that case with the horrible wench who tried to do something to your wife but ended up somehow dead.  By her own hand *she adds, not wanting to recall that Willy killed her - nor wanting to remind him that Captain Jack visited the castle*  She must be haunting you.

Willy *looks up*  It was her.  It was.  And she was laughing.  The dream has been coming back every night since.  And I can't figure it out.  Madame keeps asking me what it was about, but to tell her of those images ... they would destroy her ... *he stays quiet for a bit*  I'm sure you have other things to do, knowing you rather well, but I had to tell someone.  This is one of the very few things that break me down this way.  To the point that I can't close my eyes.  I can't even think.  When I try to come up with a new invention, all I see is blood and her face in a terrified expression.  I can even hear that girl laughing ... *he looks at Portsmith*  It couldn't possibly be Annie coming back to haunt me, Portsmith.  She deserved what happened.

Portsmith:  I agree.  She got what she deserved.  But the dead don't come back.  That is just superstition.  I am sure it is your guilt over having killed someone ..er, sorry, I meant, maybe caused her demise ... that haunts you.  I never have any nightmares, because I have a clean conscience.  And don't tell to Madame.  She would get nightmares herself from such gory details.  You did right in telling to me. Don't go talking about this dream to anyone else.  That would just mean trouble.  Take off some time so you will get your mind off and forget it.  *looks at him sharply*  This is what you are going to do. I got a priest to my chapel from the new convent.  You will go to the confession booth and relieve your mind, get an absolution, and that's it.

Willy *looks up with a calm smile*  For once, Portsmith, I agree.  I'll go and do that.  Guranteed it will make me feel peaceful at the very least.  *He nods with a smile*  I mean, my court date is coming up, but I will feel much bettter.  *he places a hand on hers*  Thank you very much.

Portsmith *thrilled for his attention*  I am always ready to help you, you know.  Would you like to see the feeding of Nancy and Sid?  Did you know that they are called dragons, it looks like they are blowing out steam from their nostrils.  It's very fascinating!

Willy *shudders at the thought*  No thank you.  I best be on my way, Portsmith.  *he stands, removes his hat, and bows in front of her*  Thank you for all of your help.  *he places his hat back on and makes his way out, eager to get back home to his wife.  It seemed like a spirit or pressure of sorts had lifted off his shoulders.  He suddenly felt ... free*

At Mort and Mary’s house:

Martin *finally sees Mort's car pass his watch place by, and he creeps in back into the house.  Mort has never been the one to invest in proper locks, and Martin himself has learned quite a lot from his business relations to the underworld, so he has no problem to pry open the back door and enter the house.  He takes a beer from the fridge and sits down at Mort's desk and starts to search the drawers. There is still one pack of cigarettes, and he finds some crumpled notes and pockets them.  He takes a quick peek a the laptop, but he isn't very interested what  Mort writes.  He can't understand why someone spends his days writing rubbish instead of doing something useful.  Like scientific research. He goes back to the kitchen and notices a small basket filled with apples.  Probably Mary's pitiful attempt at trying to change Mort's eating habits ... She believes that someone can really influence his stubborn brother.  He shrugs, takes from his doctor's bag a needle and injects a dose of his own invention, the medicine that would solve all addicts problems for good, and prevent them from going in and out of rehab.  The final solution to the drug problem.  Only if he could conduct his research into an end.  But now he is totally out of funding after the Salome incident and the shooting of Grace O'Malley Brasco, and what is even worse, he has to hide from the authorities until ...  He hears the car engine and quickly injects two more apples before he takes a seat and starts to read a most boring mystery magazine.*  Hello, Mort.  Mary.  Did you have a nice evening?  The house you told I could use was just a shack.  How can you treat me so badly?  We are brothers, after all.  Doesn't it mean anything to you?

Mort *standing in the entrance way, puts his hands in his pockets*  Actually it was a wonderful evening and I plan to have many more of them!  *smiling, he sees the scowl on his brother’s face so he pauses, making up his mind what to say*  Martin, I didn’t want you to stay at that house, I only asked you to go there while the Constable was here.  It wouldn’t have been good for Constable Crane to find you here if they are looking for you, now would it?  *looking over his shoulder he meets Mary’s eyes*  Mary, come over here with me.  I told you I would help you Martin.  *takes Mary’s hand*  I know what it is like to be wrongfully accused.  I don’t expect the Constable to come back. 

Mary *anxious to get away from Martin’s stare*  Martin, I’ll go prepare the spare bedroom.  Would you like me to make you something to eat, perhaps an omelet.  And I think we have some fruit?

Martin:  So what was that wimp doing here?  *imitates him in a high squeaky voice*  Have you moved the body?  You must NEVER move the body.  BECAUSE!  *he laughs at his own joke*  I'll have to stay low until the Law catches my wicked colleague.  He made me do everything.  *smiles at Mary very pleasantly*  Oh yes, being a fugitive makes one hungry.  An omelet would be fine.  But no fruit for me.  I can't digest fruit.  *he glances sideways at the apples*

Mary:  Great, well let me go prepare your meal then.  Mort, I can’t imagine you are hungry are you?

Mort:  No, I couldn’t eat a thing!  *goes and sits by Martin *

Mary:  Ok then, I’ll go make your omelet Martin.  *she goes into the kitchen *

Mort *looks at Martin, wonders how he’ll take hearing the truth*  Well, it’s really a strange situation.  *pauses, looks to the floor then to the mirror leaning against the wall with a blanket over it*  Mary got that mirror *points to it* from an unknown source.  It was delivered here one day and we have no idea where it came from.  The mirror is haunted.  Mary hears a gypsy’s voice call out to her to come to the mirror and once there she will see a young woman.  Mary is terrified of it.  It has control over her and she cannot stop it.  I went to the Constable since he is an expert in such matters.  *he catches Martin smiling as if to say Constable Crane wasn’t an expert in anything*  Martin, you know yourself how he has helped this town, you need to keep an open mind.  Anyway, he took care of the mirror and broke the hold it has on Mary.  That is why we went out to celebrate tonight.  The Constable said it was a temporary tranquilizer effect but I’m hoping it doesn’t start up again soon.  Well, that about sums it up.  Things are back to normal and I’m glad of it.  So tell me Martin, what did your colleague make you do?  *he relaxes against the couch thinking it's good to be able to talk to his brother like this*  What kind of trouble are you really in?

Mary *in the kitchen, hears Mort tell Martin about the mirror.  He doesn’t know about the man in the mirror and is afraid to tell him.  How would I explain it, she wonders?  The man said he was once my love.  I feel like I know the voice.  Mort wouldn’t want to hear about that because he tends to be jealous.  Ha, she thinks, yes he would even be jealous of a man in the mirror.  She smells the bacon cooking and it brings her back to the task at hand.  She sets the table, calls*  Martin, your dinner is ready.  

Skateboarding:

Crybaby *stops his half rusty bike, humming the tune 'King Crybaby', watching idly the skaters while waiting for his date.  One of the guys tries to jump on the railing of the stone steps for the tenth time and misses again, Crybaby gives a sneer*  If I'd drive my bike like that it would be a wreck.

Skater guy *snatches his skateboard and approaches him*  It looks to me that you already did.

Crybaby *getting agitated*  Listen you brat!  This bike was burned by the Squares and I am keeping it like this that I never will forget, just like I am wearing this tear.

Skater guy *sarcastically*  So that's why you don't drive a Harley.

Crybaby *glares at him, moves closer, scowls*  Yes, that's why.  I am the King Crybaby.

Skater guy:  Hey, I've heard of you, the World's Most Famous Juvenile Delinquent, cool!  I am Mark Johnson.

Crybaby *suspiciously*  I think I have seen you before, but the name doesn't ring a bell.

Skater guy:  I am here every day, dude.

At the convent:

Father: Of course Mercy we can do what ever you wish *smiles* I am sure she wont mind at all I am of course a man of religion how could she not trust me. *grins* Well this way ladies *they all start walking* you smell that ladies that the smell of home baked cookies smell good dont they *points* thats where do our cooking and thats were we store the food. Now shall we head to the great hall *smiles* this is were we hold weddings pretty isn't it  we also hold balls too of course they are respectable gatherings, why dont you two come to the Valentines day ball we all dress up and wear masks. Now Mercy a lady such as your self do you have a husband and what about you Candy have you found your true love yet?

Mercy *blushes at the question, but she doesn't find it intrusive or strange at all.  After all, he was talking about weddings*  Oh no, I don't have yet a husband, but I soon will have ... It is not official yet.  What a wonderful place this would be for a wedding indeed!  Oh I can see the hall in its full pink roses and ribbons of pink and gold.  *she sighs, imagining how grand her own wedding will be*

Candy *frowns*  No.  I have my work, I don't have time for any romances.  Why do you ask?

Father: Sounds divine Mercy I’ll book you in *turns to Candy* just out of curiosity I find it interesting how some people can live life with out love. *smiles* now I understand that work may give you all the love you need but can you survive on that alone I wonder. *shrugs* who knows I am not you and I am not here to judge you I am sorry if you feel that I am Candy.  Now Mercy please tell me more about your future husband.

Candy:  I manage.  And I love my little ward, isn't that enough?

Mercy *smiles secretively*  It is not official yet, and I haven't even seen him.  They told me that he has an assignment which has forced him to travel, but he will soon be back.  But I believe that I am allowed to reveal the name - he is Inspector Frederick Abberline, and his sister, Lady Ainsworth who has been so kind as to act as my chaperone and instruct me, says that he will soon be promoted to Chief Inspector.  He has been married before, and he has two children.  I am very excited about it all!

Father: What if that was to disappear lets just say they were to leave with out you what would you have then. *Turns to Mercy again* Oh it has a certain ring to it doesn't’t it Mrs Mercy Abberline I’d bet he’d be real happy to have a woman like you. *looks at Candy* now why don't we check the library

Mercy:  Thank you, Father.  I am really looking forward to it.  Don't you agree that a wife can save a man's life, being besides the loved one a trusty companion and a helpmate.  I suppose that all the town will be attending our wedding.

Candy *irritated looks down listening to Mercy.  Poor girl, she doesn't yet know that she will be just Miss Mercy Clyde for the rest of her life*  Oh yes, why not.  I like libraries.

Mercy:  If you say so, Candy.  I've always found most books and especially all kind of wanton reading be a waste of time.  I rather do my embroidery or something else useful.  But I really can suggest some good books for you.

Candy:  Gee, thanks.  *follows Father and Mercy to the library*

Father:  Of course they would Mercy your wedding will be the grandest in town *pauses* how about after the library we do a bit of planning on cannot plan to early *smiles* Now Candy if you wish you can take a look around I believe me and Mercy have some plans to make *smiles before she can answer they have all ready left, grinning he takes her away*

Candy:  Thank you.  *relieved she strolls farther and disappears between the shelves.*

At Wilmot’s castle:

Wilmot *wakes up with a start.  Pushing back his hair he looks around to see where he is.  He never made it to bed.  He rises and bellows*  Alcock, where are you, Alcock!

Alcock *entering the room*  I’m right here, I was in the kitchen making your breakfast.

Wilmot:  Breakfast?  Yes, I think I will have a nice big breakfast.  Good man.  *Alcock looks at his master wondering if he heard him right and is surprised to see a smile on his face.*  Well, go on now, I have an appetite this day.  *stunned, Alcock goes to fetch his food before he changes his mind.  Wilmot sits himself at the table and waits.  He starts to remember what happened last night.  He remembers how alone he felt at Chez Roux even though the room was full of people.  He didn’t feel a spark of anything at all until Mary Rainey entered the room.  He was a full believer of love at first sight.  He certainly has written enough about it.  Of course Mort Rainey was there too.  That’s a problem, he mutters to himself.   He looks up to see the sun shining thru the windows and is so deep in thought he doesn’t hear Alcock at his side.*

Alcock:   Sir, did you hear me?  *seeing he has his attention, he places his breakfast in front of him then turns to leave*

Wilmot:  Wait, I would like your opinion on something.  What do you think Alcock, do you think a man could fall in love just by looking across a room at a fair lady?

Alcock *so surprised he can hardly speak*  Well sir, I imagine it could happen, I’ve heard it to be so but it’s never happened to me.

Wilmot:  Hmm, well I am thinking it could happen.  Prepare for a trip to From Hell’s Court.  *smiling, he starts to eat his breakfast with gusto*

At Bournemouth House:

Manouche *arrives at the house carrying a canvas bag, steps up to the door, rings the bell.  She waits a few minutes, then hears footsteps inside.  The door opens, she smiles*  Raven, Chírilo!  So this is where ye got off to.

Raven *smiles at first, then looks a little worried*  Are we in trouble?  We were just about to come back.

Manouche *enters the house, Raven closes the door behind her*  No, luv, I were just wantin’ some exercise, so I decided t’ walk into town.  Alifi an’ Madame are tendin’ th’ children.  An' Mr. Blake had left earlier t’ check in with Malachi an’ Miranda, see how th’ lil’ kiddies are farin’.  *she glances around, surprised*  There’s no one ‘ere, then?

Raven:  No.  Not even Candy or Marta.  *pauses*  I – I still can’t figure out where Mother an’ Father are.  But … I get the feeling they’re okay, at least right now.  *he looks sad*  Manouche, I … I think they wanna leave Deppville.  Somethin' about movin' us all to an island.  *scratches his head, troubled*

Manouche *looks at him sympathetically*  I reckon with all that’s ‘appened to th’ pair of ‘em ‘ere, I can’t say I rightly blame ‘em.  *she brings an arm around his shoulders*  Try not t’ worry ‘bout things that ain't ‘appened yet, savvy? 

Chírilo *looks at the bag*  What’s that, Manouche?

Manouche:  Oh, aye!  Almost fergot me reason fer comin’ in th’ first place.  *she carries the bag into the parlor, Raven and Chírilo following her.  She sits down, opens it, takes a few things out and sets them on the coffee table*  These are th’ gifties we ‘ave fer Kat’s birthday.  Raven, remember th’ pretty beaded bracelets ye made fer yer mum? 

Raven:  Oh yeah … *picks one of them up*  Chírilo helped me with ‘em. 

Chírilo *colors slightly*  I didn’t do much …

Raven *holds the second one up*  She did too, this one’s all hers!  *sets them on the table, sighs*  Wish I could give ‘em to her myself.

Manouche:  Well, she may still come home in time, who knows?  But jus’ in case she don’t, we’ll leave ‘em ‘ere, an’ then when she gets home, she’ll see ‘em first thing.  An’ then she’ll ring us, an’ we’ll ‘ave a celebration for ‘er.  Better late than never, ay?

Raven *nods absently, looks at the other items*  Oh, she’ll like these ..

Manouche *nods*  I figured she’d fancy th’ necklace, an’ that book were Mr. Blake’s idea.  Yer mum prob’ly already owns it, but this is an older edition.  He found it in San Francisco, it’s a bit valuable an’ it’s autographed, so it’ll be special.

Chírilo *picks up book, reads title*  She Had Some Horses, Joy Harjo.

Manouche:  Aye, she’s a Native American writer an’ musician, very fine.  *she arranges the gifts on the table, sets out a card in an envelope with Kat’s name on it, then looks at the children*  So what brought th’ pair o’ ye ‘ere?  *to Raven*  Were ye hopin’ to find yer parents?

Raven *shakes his head*  No, I knew they wouldn’t be here, but … I was just showin’ Chírilo around, an’ I wanted to get some of Sydney’s stuff.  *picks up a paper bag he’d brought from upstairs*

Manouche *smiles*  That owl o’ yers is becomin’ fast friends with Wilko.  Gonna ‘ave a hard time partin’ ‘em once ye come back home.  *she stands up*  I reckon we should get back before too long, get some supper ready.  Mr. Blake’s been gone most o’ th’ day, he’ll be hungry.

Raven:  We gotta get the boat an’ take it back.  Do you wanna ride with us?

Manouche *hides a smile at the look on Raven’s face, knowing he would prefer to be alone with Chírilo*  No … thanks all th’ same, lil’ mate, but it’s such beautiful weather, I’d prefer to walk.

Chírilo:  Manouche, can we all go to Three Rivers tomorrow, or the next day?  Raven’s never been there.  An’ I was hopin’ to get more Gypsy stuff for my room.

Manouche *nods*  I’m sure we can, love.  I need t' go anyway an' check in with me doctor there, it’s been awhile.  *she looks at Chírilo, arches a brow, teasingly*  Ye don’t plan on settin’ up fortune-tellin’ shop in From Hell Court, now, do ye?  *Chírilo giggles, shakes her head*  Then we ‘ave an accord.  Now, how ‘bout th’ pair o’ ye set a course fer home, an’ I’ll be along directly.  I’ll leave a note fer Candy first.  *Raven and Chírilo both hug her, Raven grabs the paper bag, they run out the door.  Manouche smiles after them, then pulls a small notebook and pen from a pocket, writes a quick note to Candy, explaining the gifts and asking her to call so she can resume tending Chiana, either at Bournemouth House or Rartigillichal.  She leaves the note on the table with the gifts, folds up the empty bag, stuffs it in a pocket in her coat, leaves the house, shuts the door behind her.  She takes a deep breath of the crisp air, sighs contentedly, starts to head for home.*