4 June; A romp on deck

" 'Cos you're slow," was Fingers' reply. "This ain't nuffin, either. Sawbones made me wearrit, din't he?"

He took a swallow of grog and asked, "You gonna siddown a mo' or what?"

Terry rolled his eyes and dropped to the deck, folding his legs so he was sitting cross-legged. "Ijit. I know what 'appened, don't I - I was there, after all. What I meant was, what 'appened to your wrist? I just fought you twisted it a bit." It was daft of the surgeon to make him wear that for just a twist... Maybe it wasn't just a twist, though, maybe it really was something horrible and bad and... He shivered a little, despite the warmth of the sun.

Oh. That. "Dunno. He wou'n't say." Not that it mattered really. With the tight bandaging around his wrist and the sling, Fingers reckoned that whatever it was would be safe enough to heal. Hopefully healing wouldn't take too long, though. Maybe he could get rid of the sling in a couple of days if he was careful.

"Where you been hidin' anyways?" Fingers asked and held out his lumpy tankard.

"Bin... busy," Terry replied. He couldn't tell Fingers what Mister Leaford had said - maybe he couldn't ever tell anyone.

Suddenly, the sun didn't seem to be shining quite so brightly after all.

Maybe Mister Evans could help? He'd been nice enough about the other thing, after all. Though, maybe he wouldn't, once he heard about it.

"You got grog in there?" he asked stupidly, jerking back to the present as Fingers' battered tankard was shoved under his nose. He grinned at the other boy and took it, taking a healthy swig before passing it back and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fanks - needed that!"

Busy. Fingers could well believe it. Working for Mister Leat must not be easy.

"Aye!" What else would he have in there? Water? Yuck! "Good bitta grog'll sort anybody out," Fingers said wisely.

De Guarde looked at Chase and gave a small nod of greeting. Only now that he looked at the man he was thinking what benefit Chase had with being friendly with him even after he had had him flogged. There had to be a mighty good reason for Chase to do that.

"...We'm standin' here'bouts." He glanced towards Thompson , his gaze stopping at those chevrons. It was not something the marine gained thanks to him and this oddly made him very glad. Chase was already on the way to rouse the shantyman and so the five were back to four. Of those four two were engaged in conversation.

"..I ..really ought to better go back b'low." He murmured and sighed quietly. "'be in the way o' them anyway." Couldn't right join any competing group and if one picked him, it was because they were to gain something from him. It was all back to square one. The vivid memories of Confidence made the boy certainly lack much of it. They did not come to visit him, because they were afraid of the officers. At first that sounded rather nice. Not so much when it was.. afraid of being connected to him..

"You'um..lend me a smoke..maybe.." He appeared to say it more out of having to than out of expressly wanting a smoke. "..An' then you ought to join in with the folk. You're liked, George. They won't mind those things on yer sleeve, corp'ral. ..not unless yer...uhm.. yer shout at them."

"It's much nicer topside," Thompson pointed out. "C'mon over here aways," he added, indicating a spot by another carronade, where they could have some privacy without missing out on the sunshine. He pulled out a flint and steel and lit his pipe, taking a few puffs to make sure it was drawing properly.

"You can go below in a bit, though why you'd want to, I dunno," he added, taking the pipe stem out of his mouth so he wasn't mumbling around it.

(They head here.)

"True 'nough," Terry said. The alcohol of even the one mouthful he'd had was already making him feel a bit better. "Where's them twins got to now?" he asked, twisting around to see the tall Marine corporal leading Buckles to a slightly more private spot. He couldn't see either of the Shepherd twins though, but Cob Chase and Timlin were heading towards them, and the shantyman was carrying his fiddle.

"Oi," one of the twins said abruptly, appearing like a cannon-shot up the forrard ladder. "No fiddlin' wi'out a drum goin' with it, a'right?"

Chase grinned. "No drummin' without a fiddle. You two sort out your tunes, but make it quick or we'll be standin' around all watch with nothin' to do!"

There was a squeaky giggle from Fingers. "There's on'y one've you, Shepherd. Dontchyoo come in twos?"

"Matchin' twos an' all," Terry added, giggling at the way the twin - whichever one it was - had appeared like a cork from a bottle.

A good bit of a skylarking was just what he needed to dispel the worrying feeling he'd had ever since his not-so-friendly conversation with Mister Leaford.

He just hoped nothing bad was going to happen during their fun.

"Oh he's comin'," Andrew replied airily. "Powderin' his nose first."

Then he and Timlin fell into discussion about what should be played and in what order.

Chase was eying the two boys sitting on the deck. "Now what," he asked, "is got you two sittin' down like all that?"

'"E was a-waitin' for me an' I was a-waitin' for alla yous lot," Terry said, scrambling up. "C'mon, Fingers. Ain't gonna sit down there the whole time, are you, mate?"

He needed no urging to get to his feet, even though this was managed somewhat awkwardly, for he had taken back his tankard.

"No use innat," Fingers stated cheerfully. "Soon's them two's done they music-talkin'."

"Sorry," Terry said cheerfully, and belatedly offered Fingers a hand up. Too late; his mate was already on his feet by the time Terry had realised there was a problem.

"Hope they hurry up, then. Watchin' 'em talk about it all ain't no fun."

"Shepherd!" Fingers called. "You sorted yet? We wants a dancin'."

Or Shepherds, as it turned out, for the second twin had finally appeared. "Stow yer grumblin'," the one with the fife replied cheerfully. "Proper music takes work!"

"Hurry up, do," Terry said, hopping from foot to foot. Lucky beggars, those two - three, being able to play an instrument like that.

Fingers swallowed another mouthful of grog and held the tankard out to Button. "Aye. Stoppit wastin' time!"

The twins smirked. The one with the fife - Thomas? - saluted with the thin reed instrument. "Keep yer trousers on, lads. We's ready now."

He glanced at the other two, nodded, and then there was music.

Terry took the offered tankard. "Cheers, mate," he said, and took another mouthful, just as the music started. He hastily swallowed it, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand again and put the tankard down on the nearest carronade slide before breaking into an impromptu - and probably very bad - hornpipe, in imitation of the ones he'd seen the adult sailors performing.

"Much better, that," he said, grinning at Fingers.

Of course it was, Fingers thought. He fairly beamed and stirred his own feet, cheered to no end by the fact they were finally having a dance.

"G'an then," Chase cried, before he was drawn away toward where the other grown sailors were gathered.

"Hoi! Wait for me!" Oxley called, running for'rard, having finally been relieved by one of the other Marines, who hadn't seemed all that pleased at giving up his Sunday dogwatch to stand around and cover for the lads.

His own shod feet were probably going to make him clumsier than the younger lads, but he could always take his shoes off if they got in the way.

"Hey - Fingers! What happened to your arm?" he said, noticing the white sling that the younger boy was wearing.

The question gave Fingers pause. "Tripped a bit, din't it? Sawbones said it's gotta be inna sling ferra bit. Ain't bad."

He smirked. "Gonna stand gawpin', mate?"

"Stand around? You mad?" Oxley asked, grinning, before trying his own version of a hornpipe, which probably looked ridiculous in shoes, but he didn't care.

Between the three of them, Fingers was probably the least graceful, but he could hardly be expected to make a good showing with one arm effectively bound across his chest. Not that he cared in the slightest. This was skylarking and skylarking was fun.

"No more madder'n you!"

"We's all mad as each uvver, but 'o cares?" Terry put in, grinning from ear to ear. They hadn't had a proper dance and skylark for too long... and he hadn't had to sneak off so that he could join in, either, which was even better.

"Wonder what Corp'ral Thompson wanted 'im for," he added, indicating the two who were sitting across the deck from where the dancing was taking place.

Who indeed. Fingers grinned. He looked to where the grown sailors were having their own dance and giggled.

"Lookit!" He pointed at Chase and Dyer, who were, with absurdly solemn faces, attempting to dance as a pair.