Drummer's Jacket, 26 May

Oh. Oh. That had almost been bad. Andrew sucked in a breath and pretended he hadn't seen the slip. "Ain't much longer, but it'll be better havin' you up on deck now, y'know. For when the relief goes 'round."

He grinned. "Just gotta get Tom down, an' then it's yer own turn."

"Don't go droppin' it, whatever you do!" Oxley stepped forward to grab at it and then realised that de Guarde had a proper grip on it, before the other boy clipped it to the cross-belt he was wearing. "You...!" He shook his head. "Gotta let Young Tom see him afore we get him up on deck. S'only right, that is."

The boy grinned innocently. They'd both looked ready to drop everything to dive for the drum and save it from it's terrible fate. Of course, he'd made sure that it wouldn't slip from his grip for real. A bit of a scare was just so fun to do, still!

"Me!" He was still nervous, but atleast a short laugh eased that, and thinking it would be a great prank, the moment of weakness was slowly ticking its last seconds till its end. "I'll go whichever way. Jus' you two decide on it." He adjusted the crossbelt so that it lay more comfortably against his shoulder. It now carried the weight of the drum, which, he remembered, meant a drum in the way walking up any stairs.

"Stan' there," Andrew said, then disappeared up the ladder to the weather deck. A moment later Thomas came scuttling down, missing his drum and crossbelt.

"Well what's this here?" Thomas asked with a broad grin. "A smart-lookin' volunteer for our ol' happy lot?"

"Looks good, don't he?" Oxley said and frowned at the other bona fide drummer. He hoped the Shepherds hadn't pulled a double switch on them, though it was unlikely... Thomas would want to see what they were getting up to as well, of course.

Was it Andrew, coming back, or was it Thomas coming down for the first time? De Guarde eyed the boy a bit suspiciously, though he tried not to have it show. "Can't volunteer for anything better." He said with a grin. The pair of sticks were still in his hand and accounted for. He tried to remember what the hair was like with the other boy, if it stood at any odd end, so that compared to the present lad, it would be different. Of course, Andrew could only have ran a hand through his hair and the problem would no longer exist, while the greater one, of trying to recognise which was which, would arise again.

"Almost time." He said with not a little bit of pride.

Thomas clapped the Tar on the shoulder. "That's so. C'mon then. Better get that other one down now, so's you can be sent up."

He went partway up the ladder and waved his hand at his brother. Andrew came down to join them as casually as he could, still wearing his brother's drum.

"Right," the twins chorused. "Get on up with you!"

Oxley prodded the younger boy. "Ain't nothin' to worry 'bout. You know where we stand on duty, don't you? Jus' head up there an' stand there like you've took over prop'ly from Young Tom, here. Ain't no-one much takes any heed of us changin' over - else how d'you think the Shepherds manage half their pranks?"

De Guarde was impressed with the twins. They managed to switch at any point they seemed to decide they had enough of the watch or wanted to pull a prank or be elsewhere. It was quite benefitial to have a brother who looked like you, especially if you had a good relationship with them and they were as much up for pranks as yourself. Of course a vile brother who'd get in trouble and then blame you, would be the other side of the coin, but even then, it would confuse the accuser.

He relaxed, took a short breath and saw Andrew appear. He rubbed his side and looked at Oxley. "Oy, I'm going. Ain't worried." He hoped the state of mind would stay. With a small grin he turned and began for he ladder. He glanced at the trio one final time, adjusted his grip on the drum, when going up - not to trip over it, or have it smack at the front of his legs - and then made his way towards the spot he knew the drummers to be every day. Turning about, in a practiced manner, he took his station and straightened a little, made sure his drum sat as it had to, with the crossbelt on his shoulders keeping it at the proper height.

This was it. The Tar was off. The twins watched him go up the ladder with barely-contained glee. Their plot was finally being put into action. Once De Guarde was out of view, Andrew let out a delighted chuckle.

"Wonder how long it'll be 'fore somebody figgers it out!"

"Dunno, but I want to see their face when they does, that's for sure," Oxley replied, glad he'd stripped off his own red coat earlier. He felt far less visible in his shirt than he did in his jacket, even if it was faded by now.

De Guarde took his new job with out most seriousness. He played the part at best he learnt and seen how. He could not have done better, if he was actually a marine drummer. It would be interesting how soon somebody would notice. Was it going the Tars first? Or would it be the marines? He didn't know exactly what he could do, if an officer came along except, pretend he was someone else and hope that their conviction that he could not be De Guarde in any given or possible way, would ensure that he could play the part some more.

Of course if they recognised him, he'd see their expressions of shock, perhaps surprise, confusion, whichever, first hand and up close. He didn't allow the grin to appear on his face. Not now that he was.. 'on duty'.

"Oh aye," Thomas agreed. "One of us'd better scram, too. Or the whole thing'll be ruined 'fore it gets good."

"I'll go," Andrew said with a smirk. "Branning's on sentry down by the spirit room. I'll g'an keep him awake."

"Decent of you," Oxley said, though it was perfectly true: to have the three of them hanging around like this would alert folks to the fact that something wasn't right an awful lot quicker. It was a shame Sticks would miss out on seeing the fun, though.

The drummer boys were up to no good again. Evans watched their discreet coming and going through half-closed eyes and wondered what new devilish plot they were working on this time. It was bound to be something brilliant, with the Shepherds involved. Maybe they were finally doing something about that idiot Bridgens?

"Not so much's you'd think," Thomas said, as his brother disappeared below. "Brannin' owes him half a tot."

That made Oxley grin. "Well, jus' so long's he don't end up drinkin' it all at once. Reckon he'll want to hear how this turns out, even f he don't get to see it." He ran his hand through his hair and grinned in de Guarde's direction. "He don't look bad, does he? When d'you think folks'll notice it ain't one of us, then?"

De Guarde felt a slight itch on the nose. It came, went, then came again. Ne blew a bit of air in the general direction, and it stopped for a little while again. As he tried to look down, he felt the stock forcing him to keep his gaze anywhere above the restriction. There he saw a few Tars passing, they didn't pay any attention to him. So used to having a drummer, they probably just aknowledged a red coat and decided all was well with the world.

He allowed himself a small smile. This was nice. He felt the drum rest on the broad bands of his crossbelt. It distributed the weight comfortably enough. Had it been a narrower string and it would probably had gone and dug into his shoulder. He should not fidged even if he'd feel like doing so. There was the prank and there was also the other side of proving to the lads he could act the part. And to himself.

"He looks a'most born to it, don't he?" Thomas grinned. "Reckon somebody'll spot it when the watches change." 'Mazin' what you can do 'round ship without nobody noticin'."

"He is doin' pretty good." Oxley nodded in agreement. "It's fair 'mazin' what you can get up to, even wearin' a red coat. You reckon it'll be a Tar or an officer what'll notice it's him first?"

The noise of feet on the ladder roused Branning from a light doze and he almost straightened his back out of pure instinct, then caught himself before he whacked his head on one of the low deck beams.

"Who's that, then?" He asked and heard a giggle in reply.

"Only me," one of the Shepherds said. "Got them slops for me?"

Branning grinned. "Course I does. Just here." And he pointed to a small pile of clothes in the shadows under the ladder.

"Tar, prolly. Hopefully." Thomas paced a moment, then made himself sit down on the nearest sea-chest. "Dunno what'll happen if it's Mister Cartwright that spots him first. Or Cross-eyes."

That thought made him shudder.

So far, so good. He felt that any trace of his earlier jitters and nervousness was by then, gone. Though he stood motionless, he could still see what the men did, especially if they passed, and he wondered if Oxley and Shepherd were the ones he'd thought to have seen amoment ago. There was no doubt that the two were there , of course. Two or three, though he wondered if a third was send of somewhere else, so as not to raise too much suspicion or attention to their scheme.

Oxley bit his lip. "Don't go sayin' things like that. That wouldn't be good at all. Be fun if it was Cob Chase, or... or Dyer or someone. Don't reckon Sam'll know it ain't a proper M'rine, not after that joke we played him when he come aboard."

If it was Corporal Johnson who saw it was de Guarde, they'd all be in trouble, and that wouldn't be fun for any of them, though they wouldn't have done it if de Guarde didn't know what he was doing with the drum. It wouldn't be worth the risk if he didn't, after all.

"Better if it's a Tar, aye," Thomas agreed. Provided that Tar wasn't the boatswain or the Master-at-Arms. Or Jonny Seward. Or... "D'you reckon Mister Cartwright'll think it just a fine joke?"