Saturday 20th - 1st Dog Watch

(ooc - this will have happened after much of the day's activities have already taken place. First Dog watch /leisure time. )

A letter had arrived that day. With the Admiral of course, who was as much an event as the post itself. De Guarde had been surprised when he was called to receive a small packet. But want as he might, he could not see to it up till it was evening. The ship did not run without Tars and no matter what the day brought, the time of work was as certain as the coming of day and the leaving of it.

Just moments ago he had at least managed to see what his family had sent and he was now hurrying to find - for at last it was time of rest - where Thompson had been. With a yawn and a hand to his mouth to stiffle and cover it politely he peeked into the Marine's mess, took few steps forward carefully and timidly called:" Thompson, yer in?"

Thompson had managed to make some progress with the shirt he was working on, which he was pleased with. He couldn't work out how his Mum had been able to sew two from scratch in a day. He knew she'd worked flat out doing them, but that was it.

He looked up as a small voice asked if he was there.

de Guarde. He smiled. "Aye, I'm in, lad. What's eatin' you, then?"

"Nothin' I hope." He answered, a tired smile reaching the corners of his eyes. He held the crumpled paper close in his hand, with the letter that had some creases and folds, held to his chest. "How's yer leg doing?" He asked and looked about the mess. Though he seemed to be studying the tables and walls as if he had come there for the first time, he was quick to settle at the marine's side.

He looked up at the marine first, then at his leg as if expecting the sight of the injury to speak for itself, preferably not only in looks but as well in words.

"I'm all right. Aches a little, but it don't hurt anythin' like as bad as when I done it." He grinned. "Hopefully I'll be able to do at least light duties come Monday. It can get awful borin' doin' not much."

He cleared some of the bits of fabric off the table.

"So how come you want to see me, then, lad? Bored with them Tars already?"

"Aye, 's not much I can talk with 'em about, now can I." His smile brightened, though there were still dark circles under his eyes and a tired expression mirrored in his gaze. "Well.. 's not why I came really. Not because they were borin' I mean. Wanted ter see if yer was doing alright. N' I know you fer one are quite without work,.. though I bet t' marines come ter see you at least?"

He smiled and glanced at the fabric that had been scooped of the table with mild curiosity. "Um.. we've got t' letters today!" He held his up. "With t' admiral. Ye'um heard of him comin' aye? He's a strange follow of sorts. Came down wanting ter breakfast with us... US Tars!" He hesitated a moment his smile a small bit smaller. "Tars n' former middies that is." But he didn't seem to mind saying the first as much.

"You've got more to talk about wi' them than with me, lad," Thompson said. "I bin cooped up down here all day after all. Doin' some sewin' like."

He grinned at the lad. "You mean, you got a letter today. I'd've thought you'd have wanted to read that somewhere private-like, though, 'stead o' bringin' it down here." He looked back down at the shirt. "Oxley told us 'bout the Admiral an' Vinin' smacked him upside the head for't, silly bugger."

" Not as yer thinkin' it. N' sewin' ? Ye have?" Smiles shifting a little to seat more comfortably, his feet barely touching the floor if he scooped himself forward enough. He did remember what Thompson had offered, though he thought that it wasn't meant as seriously by the marine.

"'s more private here than it is down in our mess fer one thing, n' for another. I'um... I didn't come fer t' letter exactly. Is jus' I dunno how ter store it with Chase. It could get lost n'... I have ter decide firs'.. that is. But I didn't brin' it here fer that reason either! "

Not explaining himself any further he grinned at the mention of the drummer boy's close meeting with Vining's hand. As messy as the man was by what Thompson told him, that smack had won him a good few points in De Guarde's book.

"Well he did really sit with us. At Chase's mess no less. Still can't believe he'd have come at all!" Looks at the crumpled paper that once held its contents safe he reached in to produce a small bag.

"'s this.." He murmured an looked at Thompson, still not revealing neither his reason for bringing his letter, nor the contents of the said bag.

"Aye. I bin doin' a bit, tryin' to keep a bit busy, like I said. Can't stand sentry-go till I can put weight on me foot, and Doctor Crozier told me to report back on Monday to see how it's doin'. An' today's Saturday, ain't it?"

He wondered how the doctor was doing - he'd heard some vague rumours about how Doctor Maturin wanted to open his head up or something, and smiled when folks said it couldn't be done. It could - he'd seen the results with his own eyes, Joe Plaice walking and talking as if nothing had ever happened. If anyone could set Mister Crozier to rights, Doctor Maturin could.

He paused in his sewing and grinned across at the lad. "So what's the problem, then, lad? An' why come to me? You put anything in Cob Chase's sea-chest, it'll be as safe there as if the Captain was to lock it in his desk."

"Is saturday aye.. come sunday n' then you can go ter t' doctor. If 'e's feelin' alright by then." And then he looked uncertainly at the marine.


"Um'.. I came ter you ter..." He hesitated and held the small bag half open to Thompson. "...Ter share this." He murmured and lowered his gaze. "Is'...chocolate n' .. sweets." He chewed at his lip. He wasn't sure if he was right to come. Earlier it felt as the right kind of thing to do, though not one he was used to doing willingly.

"I'll wait till Monday, and if it turns out it di'n't all go right, I'll just see Mister M'Clure. No, I'll see Mister M'Clure anyways. If Mister Crozier is all right, he won't be up and aroun' by Monday, and Doctor Maturin'll be too busy with him anyway to worry about a silly sprain."

He looked at the boy and the bag he held, frowning a little, and lowered the sewing to his lap to look at the boy's face.

"I don't... Are you sure, lad?" he said

"..Aye..If ye'um want some..I'm sure.. Full certain. N' is.. ye need ter have nothin' ter give in return like.." Hesitates his hand wavering some. It was clear that he was uncertain, but it wasn't because he did not wish to give anything to Thompson. For that he had decided, he'd have wanted. It was only that he did not know if it was alright.

"..if.. if'um you want..."He murmured.

"Aye, Mathew, lad, I'd like that right well. If you're sure."

He reached out and took a single sweet, smiling at the boy.

"An' thank'ee, lad, it's real nice of you to offer." He popped it into his mouth and looked down at the shirt he was sewing. Taking up a scrap of the fabric, he held it out to de Guarde so he could see the pattern and weave. "What d'you think of that, for a shirt, then, lad?"

"I am." He nodded with more confidence. George Thompson was the right person to come to. He sat up again and shook his head softly. "Nae' need ter thank me, George. N' if yer want ter take another ye can. 's plenty enough left." Though he knew, it would be a treat worth hiding deep in Chase's chest, so that none , not the rats nor the people , could find it. It wasn't something that he could proove the theft of, if it came to it.

He smiled at the scrap and nodded, more happily. "I think is good n' fine , George! But that'um you know how ter do it, n' what ter do ter make it right. I'd have gone n' stared at t' fabric n' done nothing.. or if I did, i'd have lots of small strips o' cloth with no use at all!"

He peeked at the fabric. "is hard ter do it, right , eh?"

He grinned, and took another sweet, just putting it nearby for when he had finished with the one he was sucking.

"No, it ain't hard at all, lad," he said, shaking his head. "See, this'un was a shirt already, so I know what the bits look like. I just have to cut 'em down a bit, take out the worn bits."

He indicated his shoulder. "See, with us, shirts wear out over the shoulders 'cause of the crossbelts. The rest of it's fine, but if I was to cut them bits out, it'd be too small for me to wear it again. So I'm takin' out them bits, an' shortenin' the sleeves a little, makin' them not so baggy as well. An' it'll be good as new, just a bit smaller. See?" He held up what he'd done so far.

"Ye'um got t' smarts!" Looks quite amazed at how the work has progressed and seeing the result so far. For someone who's got most of his clothing bought and payed for, to be told how it's done to look proper again, is a fair experience.

"I've jus' seen them measure you like n' do it that way.. but, ter see n' hear so much be said, n' all.."He shook his head with a small smile. "You'll be done with it in no time!"

"Aye, it's comin' on real quick. I learned it from me Mum, that's all. I'll come an' find you when it's done, all right? An' thanks for the sweets." He grinned. "That was real nice. Just you take care of the rest now, all right?"

He started sewing again, slipping the second sweet into his mouth as he did. "Should be done by the time I'm back to me proper duties, lad, if I don't get too many folks interruptin'." He was smiling as he said the last, not wishing the young Tar to take it as criticism of him.

De Guarde nodded slowly and smiled. "Well, best tell those marines they should stay out o' their mess till yer finished then!" He slipped back to his feet, placed the bag into the paper, checked that he still had his letter and turned for the door.

"I'um goin' ter be.. either up n' at work.. down in t' Tar's mess, hammock n' asleep or.. anywhere inbetween, sleepin' like a dead man."

With a soft chuckle he waved to the marine and left the mess. He'd chosen not to bring the topic of their new sighing up. Perhaps Thompson already knew of it, and if he didn't it would be the marines telling him. It wasn't a too cheerful a topic to talk about with someone who's ankle has been in such a state.

Thompson grinned at that and watched the lad go. He had been right to try talking to him that day, and he was starting to see signs that there was something in de Guarde that people could like and appreciate.

There would still be times he acted like the spoilt bullied brat who'd come over from Confidence, but on the whole he was beginning to show he could be a nice lad. If only he could keep it up and start to learn his trade properly, things would be an awful lot better for him and everyone around him.

Thompson bent his head again to his sewing.