24th May, Morning - Deck

He shifted his hand from de Guarde's grip to pat the lad on the back. "That's all right, lad. Ain't your fault, so don't go takin' it like that. We can't choose where we'm goin' to be born or what our parents're goin' to be like, after all."

He smiled and put his hand back down. "Could show you round my home, if you want. If it won't make you feel worse 'bout comin' from a big posh house, like, that is."

Involuntarily the youth's back arched if only slightly. He did stiffened a second earlier, as if the sensation of a hand coming around to his back, had cause for concern. He looked up and hoped that Thompson noticed neither, instead nodding, glad that the marine atleast, did not feel offended or in some way felt ill at ease.

"I would like to see it, George." He had barely stifled a sigh, though he was startled at why he would need to do that at all. The hand did move away, but to sigh at its loss was ..not a thing to do!

"Your home. I would! N' I promise not to feel bad for coming from such a house.. 'least we are both in t' same boat now..." He hesitated and chuckled. "..quite literally. Both with food n' accommodation." He looked at the hand and shook his head. "N' anyway, I'm sure your home's real fine too in it's own way. Your mother seems to be , how you describe 'er.. already!"

He grinned and leaned over to trace invisible lines on the planking of the deck. "It's... well, I s'pose you'd call it a rookery, really. A, um, a slum. See, this here's the River Medway," he said, drawing a wide wavy line. "That side's Rochester, over there. An' here's where I live. Well, here's the Dockyard, this side. An' there's the Marine barracks. An' just up from that is the parish church, St Mary's. An' just a bit away from the church, 'tween that an' the barracks, that's Red Cat Lane. It's all crowded houses an' stuff, tween the church an' the barracks. An' there's another area, similar, over here, upriver a bit. There's a couple of alleys lead down from the High Street, see, towards the river where there's warehouses an' such. Them alleys is Holborn Lane an' Higgins Lane, and they'm up here, see." He shrugged. "You ever bin to Chatham, when you was on Confidence?"

Streets, some more streets and names to remember. He was trying, that he was. So there was the Red Cat Lane, that was the important one. Then there were the barracks which were the ones probably that Thompson had seen and observed when he was so much younger and from where he was inspired to once choose and join them rather than be pressed into a service he would not have wanted. Many houses and streets, he could try to imagine it, but then there was a thought of his own home and how it really hadn't had houses squeeshing left and right of it.

"I dun' think I was." He murmured recalling the few times that their ship needed to stop at a port and how strict it had been for the sailors. Of course, if they hadn't been any stricter the ship would soon find itself empty. "Wos' in ports though... even as part o' a press gang." He nodded. He looked a bit tense talking about the Confidence now. Life, though of a Tar, felt better with the good company he'd gained on Terpsy. If asked, he would have chosen to remain aboard her rather than return, in his rank, to the other. Then again, perhaps if Claggart would continue his cruelness he might have given that another thought.

"Don't remember too many, mind. Been in tro.." Well he'd given himself out anyway, so he could well continue with that thought. "..trouble quite often.. you wouldn't let such a middie ter be granted summat like shoreleave either.. if you was captain..eh?"

"Ah," Thompson said. "It's sort of similar in Pompey - Portsmouth - too, though I don't really know. Every time I was there I was either there with a ship or livin' in barracks 'fore goin' back to Chatham."

He wiped his hand over the decking, as though to erase his 'map'. "Can't draw like you can, not havin' had the lessons an' all. See, here's where I lived, sort of." He 'drew' a tall, narrow house with two others, one on each side. "See, it's like this in most places in Chatham. 'Cept for the New Road, but that's where the gentlemen live. All nice big posh houses, them, but I don't really go up that way. Only when I was younger, to have a look-see at what they was doin'."

He looked at the lad. "Ain't good to be in trouble all the time, though. Try an'... an' stay out of it, won't you?"

"Want ter see it." He shifted in his seat and tried to imagine the look the house drawn in, would have. From the windows, which he supposed there would be some, to the roof and it's narrow walls. Perhaps they were a bit dirty, though he could think to compare them to the sort he saw while they fought on land or the ones he'd seen when last landing with the Confidence.

"We might have a house like you've seen in that area.. or maybe.. well I'll show it to you if you'll want. Invite you for dinner and show you about. Could arrive in t' afternoon, had our tour proper and then have our cooks prepare something for us for dinner. Mother and father might join us then and my sister too, though I don't think my brother would be there. See... he's runnin' t' estates elsewhere.. so he's real busy. Only writes sometimes." He tilted his head a little to the side.

"...I'll try to stay out o' trouble... I promise. Is not like I wos' looking for them before, you know. Not with.... faulty companionway, no!" He frowned. "..I wish trouble wasn't on me tail... with it, I'll never be a midshipman again! N' maybe I'll really hang... couse I didn't drown."

"Don't say things like that. An' tell Oxley that you're tryin' to stay out of trouble 'cause... Well, just tell him. He seems a sensible sort of lad, anyhow." he retraced his earlier drawing. "See, there's the door. It's all sort of askew, like, though. An' the windows... well, they ain't so big. An' where the glass ain't broken, it's real dirty. And where it is broken, it's got all rags an' bit of cordage stuffed in, to keep the weather out. Coupla windows up here, an' up here ag'in."

"Wot' could he do.. if I tole him?" He asked and leaned closer to the imaginary picture, adding the little details such as dirt to the windows and rags to those that he deemed broken. A door he placed to be something not too luxurious, though perhaps even in his mind it was nicer than how it was in truth. He smiled and painted himself an image of an evening, at which he would come and approach such a house and then added little sounds, his imagination not being spared at all.

"Are there many broken windows?.. is' they break couse of t' people coming in, or jus' old times and such? Do you have any trouble.. well did you have, with those who did not like visitin' such houses?" He murmured curiously.

"He'd not drag you into stupid plots an' would try to keep you out of trouble if it looked like anythin' was goin' to get you into it. He ain't daft, that lad, I'll give him that."

"Don't forget each window's got sev'ral panes - we cant afford big bits of glass like you've got at home. An' there might be three or four broken bits for every one bit that's still there. They get broken all sorts of way - they'm old, like you said. An' if someone gets angry an' throws summat at someone else who ducks, it might hit the wall, or it might hit the window. Stupid things like that."

He shrugged. "It's just an ord'nary house, really, where a bunch of whores an' their kids live. Sometimes they bring men home there, sometimes they'd take a room in a pub, like the Red Lion or the King's Arms, sometimes they go out to the ships at anchor in the river. 'Specially if the sailors ain't allowed on land, they'll go out to the ships."

"You think he'd act as me big brother, shepherding me out of the way?" He found the idea rather amusing. Especially with dear ol' Oxley whom had just found his own brother among the sailors. And even if he did, was he really going to send him out of trouble rather than in? Well, wasn't there the sorts of fun trouble that caused nobody harm, and thus should not have angered the marines nor the officers but served to amuse.

"Tom's smart, that he is. Think he's fair too." He added and glanced back at the 'drawing'. The windows he'd imagined were cut up into smaller and more were broken up, with what he imagined, things still stuck in them. a bit of a chair perhaps, shards of a mug.

"So.. your mom could've.. gone on a ship like Terpsy before? Or maybe someday we's docked. .and she could come and see you too? I mean.. find yer where you's serving now?" If many of these women would've been alloved on COnfidence, there'd be twice the number leaving. And surprise it would not be, that some would've had rather flat, manly chests stuffed with stockings, n' hairest, manliest legs one could imagine!

He thought of what Thompson had said and then added:" Did ever such a... lady. lass, sail off with a ship, before she knew it was time to leave it?"

"He'd make sure that you weren't goin' to get in real trouble, the sort that'd make the officers angry. If summat looked like it was goin' that way, he'd get you out of it sharpish, if he knew to."

He shrugged. "If Terpsy made it back to Chatham, likely I'd see her. Either I'd see her come aboard or I'd get to go ashore, mebbe. She still does that same job, see. Well, when she ain't makin' money by sewing shirts, she does, anyhow. Ain't the same thing, I know. Be nice to inter... inter... for you to meet. You'd like her, I think, even if she is a whore."

"Well, I'll tell him then Though if he makes a joke of it n' makes fun of me for it, I'll sure blame you for it." He nodded sharply. " Ain't wanting fer him ter think I'um a wee child.. because I ain't no more!"

He listened on and smiled, not the sort that would be just out of kindness to the man, even if he did not mean it, but an honest one. "You meant introduce 'er?" He asked and then added: "N' I'd like to meet her, aye. If she's anythin' like you.. I'um sure I'd like her!" Even if she was a whore, which would've made his parents quite appalled. He knew that much, but then they did neither know Thompson nor knew how much he had done for him.

"N'....n' i think that, if she brought you up.. n' she did a fine job... well... not all are born fortunate, as you said.. but she made well of it. Jus'.. me sister isn't like that. N' she might want ter be all... talkin' about borin' things n' that sort. Books, literature or music. Don't you worry if she starts that. She's a kind soul.. jus' a bit... carried away sometimes!"

"He might tease you an' make a joke of it, but he'll still do it," Thompson said, picking his cloth up again. He grinned. "Aye, interduce - that's the word I meant. Though won't your folks think you strange for bringin' home someone who ain't so diff'rent from a Jack Tar? They wouldn't like it if you was to take Cob Chase home, or Chicken Dyer... why would they let me in?"

"Well 'cos for one, you marines are a very clean lot." The boy teased and joked, his eyes shining merrily as he tried to explain, perhaps not as seriously as he should. "Yer house broken, I'm sure." He added with a small bark of a laugh.

"But I would hope you'll be properly shaved and turned out. " He looked at the marine as if judging his appearance and whether it would do for his parents. "Yep, you should do. Your queue should be retied and checked before you go. You would come in your uniform though, or need t' sort of civilian clothes?" He wasn't sure how much the marine would be allowed or would want to do.

"O' course I'd come n me uniform - me best turn-out. I just meant... I ain't a gentleman like you, an' your folks might have a fit, me bein' what I am... an' a bastard too." He shrugged. It wasn't something he minded, not really. "Here, can we shift me musket along a bit. I need to take the ramrod out 'fore I start on the pipes - see, them brass bits that hold the ramrod in place."

"Yer not a gentleman?" The boy looked so shocked it almost seemed it came as a true surprise. "Why didn't you tell that ter me sooner! Wot' on earth am I doin' 'ere talking to you." He made a face and did the best impression of one snotty, full of himself, young posh lad. "Be away with you.. ye who are not a gentleman , be away!" But he did not stand for if he did, he would have set the musket tumbling, or else have something else wall in it's place.

He hadn't yet tried to shift the musket though, waiting to see what Thompson's reaction to such a display would be, and try with his best effort he did, to hold his breath and laughter in.

"You know I ain't," Thompson replied, grinning. "You known that since the first time you seen me, ain't you?" He stretched. "Reckon us ordin'ry folks can sit here on the fo'c'sle just as well as you gentry can. Though why a gennelman like you is helpin' a lobster like me clean a musket, I don't know."

"I'm... A Tar now, George. No better n' worse than any other Tar, seems m' blood don't shine through me skin to say wot' I was anyway." He stretched a little too, feeling that his back was starting to ache a little, what with the forced position he was in.

"Anyway. I don't see no reason why they ought to deny you an entrance. You'um my friend. Quite literally a friend from m' career n' me life. I'll prepare them in m' letter though if you want. ..or we could right startle them t' day we arrive?" He chuckled. "Jus'.. I hope that when I return home, I'll be wearin' a coat.. of a middie else... else.. I won't go home, no. Not unless I'm rated again. They can't know o'..this. It would shame them."

"You'm all right, Mathew, lad, you know you are," Thompson said, reaching to steady the musket as de Guarde stretched a bit.

"Most gentry'd send me round to the kitchens - if they even let me in the house at all. They certainly wouldn't invite me in an' let me eat dinner with them, me only bein', well, a workin' man."

He dipped his rag back into the tin of brick-dust again. "Y'know, it'll likely be ages afore we get back to England again. Chances are, you'll be a middy when we do get back there, an' if not, you'll be more'n welcome to visit my home, if we get shore-leave."

"Mos' gentry wouldn't have ..found that summat fell into their eye and used your coat for it though.." He smiled warmly and felt that though he was perhaps naive in many ways, and cruel in others, he'd learned to be better and it wasn't much his own doing either. "Is t' least.. I could do you know. Maybe many gentry would think not to care about wot' others do for 'em, and feel little gratitude 'cept if it was done by their equals, but I'm still a naive brat." He grinned and shifted the musket a little in his hold.

"..n'..I know you. They don't." He hesitated, and felt the warmth spread about his chest at Thompson's promise. He chewed on his lip and then before he'd even known what he'd done, he had hugged the marine. The musket was held so that it was not stuck inbetween nor was it in their way. "..Thanks.." He whispered. "..I'll be honoured ter come."

He blinked, a little startled by the hug. "Y'might change your mind when you see the place - or smell it," he said. "It ain't so nice as what you'm used to. An' you ain't so much of a brat as you was, neither." He patted de Guarde's arm. "It's right on the river, pretty much, an' being as the houses are so close together, it don't smell so nice, either, y'know."

"..You preach ter me 'bout smells?" He shook his head and had to laugh. "Is it any worse than crawlin' up through t' privy?" He asked and made a grimace at the thought. "Ye know, t' sort that Frogs shat in." He knew he'd used a rather crude expression, quite unlike a gentleman would, but dared do so. He was a tar, so if he had to act as one, and work as one, he could well have spoken as one too, if he pleased.

He had to laugh at that. "It's diff'rent livin' with that sort of smell all the time, though," he said. "You get used to it, but it don't go away, y'know." He shook his head. "What made you crawlin' through a privy anyway? 'Specially a Frog one. I wouldn't have though you the sort, Mathew."

"Ey' .. I'um tellin 'you, I've seen t' worst... so ain't no smell which would make me not want to go where you lived. That's a sure one. N' if I have ter get used ter it.. so I shall." The courage that stood behind those words he could regret one day, or else perhaps not.

"Well...I thought that it would have t' French 'least a bit distracted. See.. I knew I could fit through it, not like sum' o' you.. though I dearly hoped I wouldn't get stuck in there! It'd be a terribly way to die." He shuddered at the thought. One thing that could cause him to have nightmares if not for the fact he'd come out on his own.

"Well...I wanted ter 'elp you lot." He lowered his gaze. "Know yer could do it jus'..." He shrugged a little. "If it would make least a bit more easy. N' then.. well they had weapons, they could have used stored away some distance further away , right?.. couldn't let that 'appen!"

"It was a good thought, but you was riskin' a lot to do it. What if some of em' had turned to try an' get you?" He continued polishing. "You wouldn't catch me doin' that, not in hundred years, you wouldn't," he said, after a pause. "It was a help, but was an awful risk, too, y'know."