A Change of Duties

Terry bit his lip and dropped his head again, nodding. "S... sorry, sir."

He'd got it wrong again, hadn't he? He always got things wrong, somehow. Mister Foxley said so often enough, after all. He didn't think that things were going to change much any time soon, either.

"And Button? There is one other important thing you should remember, and it is very important indeed."

"S... sir?" His voice quavered again and he almost didn't dare look up to see the officer's face.

The lieutenant's features softened significantly.

"That I am not Mr. Foxley."

He knew that, of course he did. But Mister Leat was a Lieutenant and that could be worse than Mister Foxley, a lot worse, if the officer chose.

Only the Lieutenant didn't sound angry, or upset, or anything like that, and Terry did dare to look up.

He didn't recognise the expression on Mister Leat's face enough to put a name to it. It looked sort of... kind, he thought. And that wasn't something he'd ever associated with an officer. With anyone older, really.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, and cuffed at his eyes again, though a look of hope appeared on his face. Maybe things really could be better now?

Leat watched the expression on Button's face closely. He wasn't sure if he had made himself clear or not.

"Understand?" he asked mildly.

"Y... Yes, sir."

Well, of course Mister Leat wasn't Mister Foxley. Even a lubber could understand that. Terry just didn't understand quite what it meant - was it going to be better than working for Mister Foxley, or worse?

The answer was not entirely satisfactorary, but Leat supposed it was the best the boy could offer at the moment. He straightened up again, sitting back down on the chair.

"Very good," he said. "Now you may complete your duties."

He still wasn't totally clear on what his duties were right now this minute, but nodded and gave the cat a final stroke before reluctantly moving her from his lap to the floor, biting his lip in dismay when he noticed the state of his shirt. Bother it.

He slipped off the sea-chest and reached for the scrubbing-brush again, hoping that the bit of cocoa still left in the mug would be all right cold.

Seeing Button pick up the scrubbing brush again Leat turned around in his chair back to the desk, pulling over a letter to his family that he'd started earlier that day. Picking up his pen from the inkwell he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Button's mug still had some cocoa left in it. Now what was the chance the boy would not finish it unless given direct permission?

"I should finish that," he said, nodding towards the mug. "Else it'll go cold."

He looked up at the officer, and managed to give a shy smile. "Fanks, sir," he said, swapping the brush for the mug. It was nice stuff, that cocoa. He hoped he would be able to have some again some time.

Mister Leat had turned out to be quite nice, really, all things considered. Though Terry was willing to bet that none of the other boys would think so, if he told them.

"Don't mention it," Leat said, turning back to his letter. Putting down his pen he removed his coat again, flinging it absently onto the cot (provoking a complaint from Emily), then started writing where he left off.

...As I was saying, the captain has appointed a servant to me. One of the ship's boys reported to me today in this capacity, and he has already begun his duties. He is a boy called Button; roughly twelve or thirteen years old I should say, and somewhat scrawny for his age. Though I detest the idea of allowing someone who is not a intimate access to my possessions, I do not think he will prove to be a burden...

Terry finished the cocoa - the tin mug meant it had cooled down quickly to a drinkable temperature - and put the mug to one side before taking the scrubbing brush up again. He didn't want to disturb the Lieutenant, who was busy writing something, and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible as he finished scrubbing the planking of the small cabin's floor.

He paused when he'd finished, uncertain as to what to do now. Was he expected to ask permission every time he needed to leave the cabin to do something, or could he just slip out. He bit his lip, trying to gather enough courage to interrupt the officer and ask.

Though he had been concentrating on his letter, part of Leat's subconscious must have been paying attention to Button's activities, because he became dimly aware that behind his back the scrubbing had stopped. Hearing no other sound the lieutenant finished the sentence he was writing and turned in his chair, only to find Button staring at him, biting his bottom lip.

"Is something wrong, Button?" he asked.

And this was where he screwed up, wasn't it?

"I... I... 'M I s'posed to ask f'r permish'n to leave when I... I need to, sir?" he managed. "On'y, I finished wiv the water, there, sir." He indicated the bucket.

It didn't make sense to have ask every time, really - the officer would get annoyed awfully quickly if he had to dismiss Terry every time, but the boy had no real experience of officers in situations like this. Every time he'd spoken to an officer, the officer had dismissed him when he wasn't wanted any more - he couldn't just walk off when it suited him.

This time Leat did allow a half smile to escape.

"No, Button, you don't have to ask every time. Servants and stewards have the privilege of not having to ask permission to enter or leave their officer's cabin or the wardroom - you do not even have to knock."

Terry's eyes went round. He didn't even have to knock? How... strange, to not even have to knock when coming into an officer's private cabin. It did make sense, sort of, but it was going to take a lot of getting used to.

And... had Mister Leat just smiled at him? He didn't think the officer ever smiled - certainly he'd never smiled at Terry before today. He always seemed to scowl when he saw Terry, before.

This was turning into quite possibly the strangest day of Terry's life - it might even be the best day of his life, too.

"Fanks, sir," he said. He had to empty the pail now and opened the door before turning to struggle with the heavy oaken bucket again.

The door, however, soon ceased to be a problem as Leat was on his feet, reaching easily over the boy's head and holding the door open for him.

Terry's eyes were rounder than ever now. He had never heard of a Lieutenant holding a door for a ship's boy. All he could manage was an awe-struck, "Coo!"

He took a firmer grip on the heavy oak bucket and wished he was a bit bigger. This trip was going to take just as long as the first one - maybe longer. Still, he wouldn't be quite so scared when he got back as he had been when he first lugged the bucket in.

Button looked so comical that Leat could not help but smile this time, but bit back on his laughter so that it emerged as an amused snort.

"Had you not get about your business, Button?" he chided with mock severity. "Before you receive any more startling revelations and your eyes pop out of your head from overwhelming surprise."

"Y... Aye, aye, sir." The Lieutenant had sounded pretty severe, but when Terry looked up, the officer was smiling. In fact, his expression looked so different from the scowl that Button had been used to that the boy couldn't help but smile back, a shy but genuine grin.

"Fank you, sir. Reelly, fank you," he managed, knuckling his forehead before dragging the bucket out of the cabin.