Day Trip

Thompson poked him again, then wiggled his finger against the lad's side. "That ain't no way to be talkin' to an old friend, that ain't."

Bolitho sighed.

"Yes, I suppose we shall," he said. Then he climbed up into the carriage behind Cartwright.

"I ain't on a sloop," Branning protested. "An' I ain't a sarn't, honest."

Quinn had managed to get aboard before Cartwright, and now his attention was on the Marine at the back of the bus.

"I don't care if you have to sit on someone, Private Thompson. Sit down!"

De Guarde opened his eyes at the very last and blinked at Thompson. "Oh.. it's you!" He stretched one final time and then sat up. "Had t' strangest dream.. other than you pokin' me. ..Dreamt somebody said Brannin' was a sergeant, would you believe it!" He shuffled a bit to the side to give some space to Thompson. "We there yet?"

"You is," Mayden insisted. "Fair good mates with me own sarn't, too. Sure you can't forget ol' Sarn't Devlin."

Vickery had to hide a grin at the very Sergeant-like bellow from the Marine sergeant as he scrambled up into the contraption, and found a seat.

Bush followed Bolitho into the carriage, and was none to pleased to hear that Quinn was already reprimanding Thompson. But since the sergeant was on top of things, Bush settled for giving the men a long, stern glare to warn them all not to act up any more.

What was all the damn commotion. Bloody, loud people and shouting and uncomfortable, wierd, small, or rather tiny sofa eh chair that looked like nothing close to a proper chair anyway.

He blinked and dislodged himself from where he had been lying or rather kneeling, all twisted under and onto the part of the seat. Blasted thing. All his bones hurt. Whyte clambered onto the chair and looked about, startled.

"Are we allowed to smoke inside this... vehicle?" Blackwood asked, choosing a seat after coming up the narrow steps.

Thompson took quick advantage of de Guarde's change of position to sit down on one of the seats he'd been taking up. Getting shouted at by Sar'nt Quinn was not high on his list of favourite things.

Branning was feeling desperation bubbling up. "I ain't," he repeated. "An' I dunno any Sarn't Devlin. That's me sergeant right there. See?"

"Can't you lot shut up?" Newbury hissed, frowning at the two bickering Marines.

"I don't believe so," Vickery said in response to Blackwood's question, tapping the sign fastened in the window next to him. "However, I am led to believe it will be a relatively short journey - and surprisingly comfortable, and we will be able to indulge once we reach our destination."

Oxley knelt up on the seat so he he could see Branning and the other man, the one in the old-fashioned coat - Mayden. "What it is, mate, is that he" (indicating Mayden) "-thinks it's something like about a hundred years ago an' we ain't even Royals yet." He grinned at Mayden. "Though I dunno for sure how you got here from... from wherever you come from, mate."

"Ah." Blackwood took note of the sign and shrugged. "I look forward to finally arriving to wherever we're bound, regardless. The more I see of this world, the more it intrigues me."

"Hey, you'um taking me space. Might use you as a pillow if you ain't careful. " The lad yawned and shuffled a bit, to sit more comfortably. "Wonder if we manage to get all of them lot ,back home too."

"Private Oxley, turn around and sit down properly, or you'll be walking," Quinn said, noticing the lad, who obeyed, though he was pouting a little as he did so.

Mayden rolled his eyes. "Mouthy little squirt, ain't you?"

Oxley wriggled around to peer between the seats. "Was on'y sayin'."

Thompson grinned. "It ain't time to turn in yet. I never saw anyone so quick to take a caulk, I really haven't."

"Bullocks," Evans muttered to Chase, who nodded. A moment later, the carriage gave a backwards lurch as the driver got it moving.

"Finally," Chase said and passed his tarred hat to Evans for safekeeping. "Watch this." He pushed the window open and stuck his head and shoulders out of it, grinning in the rush of wind when the carriage got onto the road.

"Bloody Navy," Newbury grumbled, casting an imploring glance skyward.

Even though he and Bolitho were sitting at the front of the carriage, Bush kept peering around to check on things. When he caught a glimpse of Chase sticking his head out of the window, he stood up and shouted across to the sailor.

"Chase, just because you can't sit on top of the carriage does not mean you have to hang out of the window! Get back inside!"

"I'm sleepy. 'aven't closed me eye for a moment." He pouted and crossed his hands over his chest. "I got more used ter...more sleep now." Which, if he had to sleep only for four hours straight, would probably have left him dozing the next few. "Oh!" He nearly lost his hold as the bus lurched back and then forward. "We's moving!"