4th June: A nice sway and patter of feet

Damn. An interruption, just when he felt he was making progress. And an interruption wearing a red jacket at that. Leaford nodded in acknowledgment of the courtesy offered to him.

"Afternoon," he returned. Then he glanced at the boy. "I can hardly answer that, my lad. It is up to you how you decide such things. Or indeed find them out."

Thompson frowned. He hadn't heard that much - he wasn't the sort to sneak around and earwig on other people's conversations, after all - but that sounded suspiciously as though the master's mate was trying to get under de Guarde's skin somehow.

"You come up on deck then, lad. Ain't good for a lad to hang around the 'tween decks all the time, y'know." Getting de Guarde away from Mister Leaford was probably a good idea - and weren't the boys going to have a bit of fun up there, as well.

"..s' nice 'tween decks." There was a seed of doubt planted, or perhaps water has just been poured on one, that had been left without any nourishment a while. Whichever it was, the boy looked hesitant, but not at least, towards Thompson.

Did he want to continue this conversation which might instill further doubt in his mind, or go on deck? Somehow, he did not feel like meeting with those boys. The very same who did not come when he hoped they would and whose motives were still a mystery to him. "Will you be coming as well?"

"I was headin' up anyways," Thompson added, noticing the doubtful look on de Guarde's face. "Need a smoke, like, see. Bit of air never did anyone any harm.

Whatever the conversation had been about, it probably hadn't been healthy if de Guarde no longer really wanted to be with the boys. And that meant that he'd have to get the boy away from the petty officer... preferably without the petty officer knowing that's what he intended to do.

This was probably a good juncture at which to end the conversation, Leaford thought. At least for now. It already seemed as though he had made some progress with the boy anyway, which was all to the good.

"You go and have fun," he told the lad, not troubling himself to glance at the Marine. "It's a prime day for it."

With that, he turned to make his departure.

"I'll.. come with you then, George." The boy decided and nodded towards Leaford, once his decision was made. "..Thank'e for your time, mister Leaford." He touched his brow in a partial salute. "I'll.. think on it." And there and then he turned towards Thompson murmuring a very quiet. "Can I have n'other try o' that.." Which he hoped was silent enough.

Thompson frowned at Mister Leaford's back. Always needling people, that one - he'd bear watching. And if he tried his tricks on any of the Marines, Thompson would have something to say - and so would their officer, he was sure of it.

"I dunno as I oughta let you," he said. "Chewin' baccy's much easier to get a-hold of than this here." He pulled his pipe and tobacco out. "Don't s'pose a few puffs'll do much harm though."

De Guarde smiled, and bobbed his head in a few vigorous nods. "Yes, please. Only a few." He said and followed the marine. "...George.. corp'ral" He whispered when he thought he was out of earshot of the master's mate. "I'll pay you back, you know. Fer lettin' me use that. An' Danver. I'll pay you both back once I've get a hold o' summat money." It was rather amusing how his speech had gone from near perfect and refined into his usual that he had grown so accustomed to, words already picked with the manner of speaking right from this marine too.

"I...I don't think I oughta go skylarin' though. I've....things to do." A neat lie, though there was a grain of truth in it too. He had to think and consider, and.. he was not about to jump as high as the others having his own posterior injuries to worry about.

Thompson shrugged. "A few puffs ain't goin' to make much diff'rence, lad," he said. "Beats me why you want to learn to smoke anyway - ain't 'zackly a gentlemanly sort of thing t'be doin', you know. You keep hold of your money, Mathew."

He paused and turned to look at the boy. "You don't think you oughta go sky-larkin'?" he said, managing - barely - to curb his astonishment and tone it down to mere surprise, though he couldn't help raising an eyebrow.

"..I'll repay wot' I owe." He paused and then nodded with a barely contained frown. ".. I don't think I oughta...I think t' surgeon might need me summat more... an'..." He mulled over another of the options he could give Thompson. "...I... I'm not fit fer it yet. They'll all be'a climbin'.. I'm certain. " And they would be better of that way. Leaford could have happened to have a point.

Thompson repressed a sigh, though he wasn't quite sure how he managed to do so. "Seems like you an' me need a little talk," he said. "Now, do I have to drag you up on deck by the scruff of your neck, or will you walk along with like a Christian?" He held his pipe up. "'Sides, reckon the surgeon can do without you for a bit - an' the only place we'm allowed to smoke in Terpsy's up on deck."

"... I'll prefer t' go in a dignified way... this time." He lowered his gaze some saying so. "But...honest it be better I...return ter t' sickbay. T' surgeon won't like it if he has ter.. be doing things 'stead o' his loblollyboys." Though a step in the right direction suggested the boy was just as torn about where to go and turn as he was confused what opinion to hold about the other seamen. Thompson was safe from doubt. But the boys, the rest, were not.

de Guarde took a step away and Thompson reached out to grasp his collar, though his grip was light, almost teasing. "Oh no you don't, young feller-me-lad. Summat ain't right with you an' you an' me's goin' to have a talk. If the surgeon's got a problem with that, I'll talk with him." He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, and tapped his brand-new chevrons with the stem of his pipe. "You see these? I don't want you to be the first one I hafta pull rank on, but I will if you make me. Now. I want a smoke an' you want some air, so let's go up topside, cheerful-like, shall we?"

"..aye, aye I mean... yes..corp'ral." He glanced down at the hand which held onto his collar. The grip was not actually firm and if he would have wanted, he could have pulled himself free, easily. But, he chose not to. Thompson had a point. He was a corporal and so had to be obeyed...and in part it flattered him to think the man really wanted him topside.

"..I'll go. Only if'n.. you let me smoke 'gain." He looked up with traces of hope on his face. "..Please? An'.. an' if t' surgeon... says it. You'll tell'im you ordered me with you."

"It's still 'aye, aye' when it's an order, even to a Marine officer or non-commissioned officer," Thompson reminded the lad, letting go of the boy's collar and patting his shoulder. "I'll let you have a bit o' me baccy, aye. Though don't go tellin' the surgeon, will you? He don't much like the habit, an' I reckon he'd chase me halfway round Terpsy an' back again if he knew I was lettin' you borrow me pipe."

He pointed the way to the companionway. "Go on up, then." Yes, he probably should go first, but he wasn't going to let the boy escape him now.

"He'd never chase a Corporal nowhere's. You'um talkin' daft." Though he agreed that the surgeon would know nothing of it. Not unless he caught them both redhanded.

"Hmph." Though he did not mean to run he was not daft not to notice Thompson's decision to make sure - by way of making him go first - that he would not even consider it.

Then with a scowl he began to ascend the companionway, careful and with a tug here and there at his trousers to ease the fabric over his rump.