Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. This is just a creative writing exercise and I'm having fun.
All characters OTHER THAN Sharpe, Garrard, Hughes, Shee, Morris, Hicks, Maggie, Hakeswill and Hawthorne are my original creations.
Now, did I mention that this story contains SEX, M/M sex? If you doin't like this, then don't read it!
Changes
Part 1
At Sea: English Channel March 1795
urprisingly not everyone in the 33rd Foot Regiment was pleased to be returning home from Flanders. As he stood against the rails on the deck of the 'Finity', Bill Hanson frowned and turned to Tom Garrard; "I just don't know what I'm going to do! Josh hasn't said anything, Lord, for all I know he doesn't even remember that I have a wife back at the barracks." He looked out over the soft swell of the waves that carried them ever closer to home. "I didn't really meet him until we went to Flanders, he was just another one of the young recruits that arrived with Dick a few weeks before we left."
The sails overhead snapped in the wind and both men looked up aware that the movement of the ship had changed. One of the Ships Officers barked out an order and a dozen or so sailors shimmied up the rigging to alter the spread of canvas.
"If it hadn't been for bloody Hawkins, I never would have got involved with Josh." Hanson ran his hand over his face wiping the spray away and Tom Garrard tried to think of something to say to his friend. It had been Bill Hanson who had calmed his own fears about forming too close a friendship with Dick Sharpe. The older mans words had made sense to Garrard and now Tom hoped that repeating them would somehow reassure Hanson.
"That's all very well when we are at war Tom, but what's a man to do when he's back at home and his wife and family are living at the barracks. To some it wouldn't matter, they'd just say, well that's that, and it would be an end to it all, but I can't do that to Josh. He just a lad, he's only seventeen and...." Hanson paused again and looked down at his hands before going on. "He told me that he loves me Tom, silly little bugger, but he means it and it will break his heart if I turn him away." Hanson looked Tom straight in the eye and added "Besides, I don't want to, I care about him and I won't do it to him."
"Bloody Hell" Tom muttered as he looked out at the horizon to see the first evidence of a squall moving towards them. He sighed, they'd have to move below decks soon, and Tom was disappointed. He enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine rather than the cramped, stuffiness of the hold where the Light Company was berthed.
"Yer'll have to talk to him Bill, tell him what to expect. It may only be for a while anyway. Who knows where we will be shipped off to next? They've been threatening to send us to the West Indies for long enough."
Bill Hanson shook his head "But just how am I going to explain Josh to Jean?" he concluded sadly. "I love her and I don't want to hurt her. She would never understand this."
The salt spray flew into their faces again as the ship changed tack and Tom licked it from around his lips.
"Tell her that yer saved him from Hawkins, that yer kept him safe and that the lad formed an attachment to yer. She'd understand that, she'll probably want to mother him or something." Hanson gave a small laugh "He should be home with his own mother, not in the army. If I ever get a chance at Hakeswill, I'll shoot him in the back for tricking Josh into enlisting. He's just not cut out for life as a soldier."
Tom had to agree with Hanson. Josh Smith was small in build; fine boned and fine featured. When his hair wasn't plastered down into a queue with flour, it was dark and fell into soft curls. His eyes were big and brown and his voice was quiet. Put him into a dress and he'd pass as a bloody girl, Tom thought. Smith had run away from school to become an actor and Tom was certain he would have been more suited to the stage than to soldiering.
The Officer on Deck shouted more orders and Tom looked aft. The squall was now behind them and advancing quickly. Forks of lightening leapt out of the dark clouds which broiled and tumbled closer. The order was shouted for the Infantrymen on deck to go below and Tom bid the fresh air goodbye as he followed Hanson down into the hold.
Below deck, the musty air quickly rose to meet them. By the time Tom bent to enter the hold, he felt sweaty and light headed. Once inside his eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. Most of the hammocks were rolled away and Infantrymen sat around, talking and playing cards.
Tom looked around for Dick Sharpe and found him sitting with Peters, Smith, and Rawlings. When they had first come on board the vessel, Tom had wondered how Dick would react to being shut up in the dark hold for long periods of time. He imagined that the younger man would spend as much time on deck as possible. It was therefore a surprise when Sharpe refused to go on deck the first day when their turn came around.
"There's no way I'm going up there Tom, I'm more afraid of all that water than I am of the dark!" he declared and had not moved from the hold since. Dick Sharpe wasn't the only one. Many of the Infantrymen disliked being on deck and most admitted to a fear of the water. Few could swim and many had never been on a boat before their trip to Flanders.
"Storms coming" said Tom as he sat down beside Sharpe. Hanson had beckoned Smith over to a quiet corner and Tom could see them talking together. He leaned closer to Sharpe and whispered "Do yer know if young Josh knows about Bill's wife?"" Sharpe looked at Tom in surprise "Shit no, Tom! Does he have a wife?"
"Shhh, yes and she lives at the barracks with their children. Bill's going to tell Josh, but it's not going to be easy."
Tom felt the movement of the ship suddenly become more pronounced. There were mutters and groans and someone yelled for a bucket. Despite their days a sea, some of the men still suffered from seasickness.
Tom became aware that Sharpe was staring at him "What's wrong?" he asked suddenly concerned.
"What's going to happen to you and me Tom?" Sharpe asked, his voice small and quiet "Yer never said what would happen when we got home, will it be the same or did yer have another berthmate before that yer want to go back to?"
Tom was glad of the dim light in the hold. He slid his arm around Sharpe and whispered into his ear "No one in particular. I usually shared with either Harry Whyte or Percy, but that's all it was. It'll be you and me when we get home ...that's if yer want to" he added hurriedly.
"I'd like that Tom." Said Sharpe as he relaxed back against Tom's arm, but suddenly Tom's thoughts were in a spin. Just what 'would' happen when they reached home and were once again in the barracks? A small, shared berth in a crowded barracks afforded very little privacy. What men did under their blanket was their own business, but that didn't alter the fact that the rest of their Company as well as an assortment of wives and children surrounded them.
"Bloody hell" murmured Tom, as he thought about the prospect of endless nights being able to do nothing more than hold Dick in his arms and keep quiet. It just didn't seem fair!
"You know Dick, it's going to be different though, we won't have much privacy, we mightn't be able to...well" Tom trailed off and Sharpe laughed a little.
"It never stopped Frank Hawkins." He said matter-of-factly, and Tom suddenly felt angry. He hadn't realised that Sharpe had shared a berth with Hawkins. Sharpe, Smith, Rawlings and a few other new recruits had arrived only weeks before the Regiment left for Flanders. Tom had always imagined that Sharpe's trouble with Hawkins, Crocker and their cronies had started last November but perhaps it had begun far earlier. Perhaps Tom, like the rest of the infantrymen just hadn't noticed. Had Sharpe been prey to their unwanted attentions since he arrived? "I'm sorry Dick, I didn't know," said Tom, feeling as if he had somehow let Sharpe down.
Sharpe reached up and touched his face gently "It's not yer fault Tom, these things just happen. Most of the younger lads have had the same thing happen."
"Well it's not supposed to!" Tom said angrily "The Sergeants are supposed to watch out for that sort of thing, to stop it happening."
Sharpe gave a harsh laugh. "Sergeant Walker was too interested in that new wife of his to worry what was happening in anyone else's bed. As for Sergeant Hawthorne, well he was in thick with Crocker and Hawkins. He claimed Sam Rawlings for his own and left the rest of us to fend for ourselves."
Tom was aghast. Sergeant Hawthorne had been shot in Flanders and had died in a skirmish as the rest of the Company went on firing. It was shortly after that that Tom now remembered young Sam Rawlings had joined their circle, hanging close to Dick whenever he could, but generally saying very little. "What about when you joined up Tom? No one ever give you trouble?"
"Not really," said Tom thinking back "Just once. I woke up one night and my berthmate, Silas Fishbourne, had his hands on me. I told him I'd cut his balls off if he touched me again and he never did." Tom laughed "Stupid fool managed to get his throat cut in a brothel in Cork. I can't say I missed him. I bunked with Harry Whyte after that, then Percy when he arrived as a new recruit."
"Percy always said he liked sleeping with you," said Sharpe, his voice teasing, "He said yer always kept yer hands to yerself. I didn't have the heart to tell him that yer'd changed." Sharpe laughed and Tom thumped him playfully on the shoulder.
"Don't know what'll happen to Josh now if he won't be sleeping with Bill." Sharpe said, suddenly serious again "Percy's already told Sam that he can share his berth. Figures that will keep the others off him. I guess we'll have to keep an eye out for Josh." Tom smiled to himself as he thought about Dick Sharpe taking on the role of protector. It had been scarcely five months ago that Sharpe had been in dire need of someone to look after him, a role that Tom had reluctantly filled.
Yes, a lot had certainly happened in those five months, thought Tom.
"What is she like?" Sharpe asked quietly and Tom knew he was referring to Hanson's wife. Over in the corner Tom could see Bill Hanson talking rapidly to Josh Smith who was looking away, head bent.
"She's nice, a bit younger than Bill, about my age I think. Pretty, fair hair. She laughs a lot." Tom smiled as he thought about Jean Hanson. "Sometimes she does a bit of sewing for the lads and she never charges much. You'll like her."
Dick snorted "Josh won't, he won't like her at all." He turned his head to look at Tom "You got a girl Tom?" Sharpe asked slowly.
Tom shook his head, remembering Sally, "No, I had one when I lived back on the farm, but I don't know what became of her." Tom paused for a moment, thinking about all they had shared together "She's probably married now." he added sadly.
Sharpe snuggled closer, "Yer don't need a woman Tom, yer got me." He said softly and Tom burst out laughing, "Bloody hell Dick!"
Sharpe pulled away and Tom was immediately sorry, "Here, I didn't mean it like that, it's just that it sounded so funny" he said, trying to soothe Sharpe's feelings.
Sharpe folded his arms, refusing to look at Tom "Yeah I suppose it did," was all he said.
The ship suddenly listed sideways and cards, bottles, cups, packs and Infantrymen went sliding. There were heavy thuds as men fell or crashed into the wooden beams and bulkheads. Tom scrambled to hold onto one of the upright supports used for stringing up the hammocks. He grabbed onto Sharpe with his other arm and held tight as the ship listed again.
"We're going to die!" Sharpe cried out and Tom dragged him closer so that he could hold onto the post. "We'll be all right if we hold on to each other Dick." Tom said desperately.
The storm lasted less than an hour and Tom was right, both he and Sharpe escaped injury. Others were not so lucky. Two men were treated for broken bones, one for a dislocated shoulder and another three for minor cuts. Josh Smith suffered a black eye where he had somehow connected with Bill Hanson's elbow. It looked unsightly, but it was far less painful than the wound to his heart.
Changes Part 2
"So what's the first thing you'll do when you have a minute to yourself?" asked Bill Hanson. A large group of Infantrymen stood leaning against the rails staring at the distance strip of land that was home. Tom had finally dragged Sharpe up on deck and the younger man now stood squinting at the horizon, holding onto the wooden rail so tightly that his knuckles looked white.
"I'm going to find the first pub and get drunk as quickly as I can!" said Harry Whyte smiling. The others laughed.
"I'm going to spend it with my wife, I don't care what we do, I just miss her," said Abraham Avery. Bill nodded silently in agreement and said "Me too, and the little ones. I bet my little Polly will be walking by now, it'll be good to see them again." He glanced at Josh Smith as he said that but Smith ignored him. The younger man hadn't spoken since he came on deck and he didn't speak now. Hanson turned away. "What about you Percy? What are you going to do."
Peters blushed "Well I thought I'd go looking for a brothel." He looked around at the other men who were laughing, "They do have brothels in Southampton don't they?" he asked, suddenly unsure.
"Oh aye," said Avery "some real bad 'uns. Yer've got to watch out there Percy. Some of the women bite!" There were hoots of laughter but Peters happily ignored them. "Want to come with me Dick?" he asked Sharpe.
Sharped grinned and nodded "Sure, I'll be in that." He turned to Tom, still gripping the railing with all of his strength "What about you Tom?"
Tom Garrard shrugged, he really didn't like brothels and couldn't see the sense in going to one and spending good money when he had Dick Sharpe to keep him warm at night. He wondered for a moment why Dick seemed so keen to go, but pushed that thought to the back of his mind. "Maybe, but what I really want to do is write to my mother, let her know that I'm home and I'm all right." He said quietly.
Dick just snorted.
It was late that evening when the ship finally docked and the men were forced to spend the night once again in their small hammocks in the hold. Tom lay awake a long time, thinking about Dick Sharpe and what he hoped they could do again very soon. He thought about Aschendorf and the nights they had spent together there, nights that he could only dream about now. On the march to Bremen, there had been little opportunity for them to continue with their newfound relationship. They were forced once again to make do with stolen kisses and furtive caresses under their blanket.
They disembarked the next morning but it was not until the afternoon that the Light Company finally marched into their assigned barracks in Southampton.
The company wives were waiting there to meet their returning husbands. All except one. Sergeant Walker's wife was gone without a letter or word of explanation and it was left to the other women to tell the distraught Sergeant that his pretty young Irish wife had run off with another man. Walkers shouts of revenge detailing what he would do to the two sinners would have been comical if the poor man had not finally collapsed and been carried to the barracks hospital.
Bill Hanson greeted his wife warmly and hugged his children. Tom watched their happy reunion with something like a pang of regret. He wished for a moment that his own family were here, his mother and father, his sisters. Perhaps my family is here, he thought suddenly as he looked at Dick Sharpe standing waiting for him at the barracks door.
Inside the Company barracks Tom eyed the long rows of double berths. At the far end of the room were the ten berths set aside for the married men in the light company whose wives were lucky enough to be allowed to live in. Tom guessed the women had been in earlier and strung up the thin pieces of curtaining to afford each couple a little privacy.
"So where do yer like to sleep Tom?" asked Dick as he looked at the berths that hadn't been taken.
"Anywhere as long as I'm on the bottom." Said Tom; he had never liked the upper berths.
Dick raised his eyebrows and grinned, "Sounds fine to me Tom." He said with a laugh and Tom poked him with his musket. They wandered down the room a little until they came to a berth that was empty top and bottom.
"What about this one, Josh could take the top and we can keep an eye on him." Sharpe said as he looked around. The men usually slept two to a berth but due to the large number of casualties incurred in Flanders, the Light Company was below strength. With any luck, Josh Smith would get a berth to himself.
"Over here Josh" Tom called out when he saw Smith walk in the door.
"Being a bit greedy aren't yer Garrard. Yer already got Sharpe, let someone else have a share." Tom looked around to see Henry Wardell watching Josh Smith intently. "He's still a pretty little thing even with a black eye. Hey Josh want to come and sleep with me? I'll keep yer warm." Wardell placed his arm around Smiths shoulders and pulled him close.
Bloody Hell, thought Tom, not wanting to start a fight so soon. With Hawkins dead and Crocker in hospital, Wardell would now be the leader of the small group of infantrymen that were classed as troublemakers. Curtis, Pike, and Ratcliffe, had all enlisted to escape the magistrates. Liddel, Beatty, Rendall and Simpson were just bullies and no-hopers. They seldom trespassed enough to run afoul of the Sergeants, but they were all men to avoid.
"There's plenty of spare beds Wardell, he doesn't have to share. Now get yer hands off him or yer'll end up in the hospital like yer friend Crocker. Maybe they'll let yer share a bed with him!"
Wardell eyed Garrard for a moment as if weighing his chances. Tom stared back, never blinking. He had stood his ground with this man before. He had killed Frank Hawkins to save Dick Sharpe, a fact that was known to Wardell. Tom Garrard wasn't going to back down now. The stalemate was broken as three small children came running down the middle of the room closely followed by two women. Wardell let go of Smith and stepped away. "Yer'll have yer own bloody harem soon, Garrard. Pity yer only like the used ones." He turned his back and left.
"Bastard!" cursed Sharpe. Josh Smith said nothing.
The mess hall that evening was noisy and crowded, so different from the evenings spent eating around a campfire in the open. Tom and Dick joined their messmates at one of the long tables. The married men were eating at one end with their families and Tom noticed Josh Smith casting furtive glances at Hanson where he sat with his wife.
"So have yer heard the story about Walkers wife?" asked Abraham Avery from the other end of the table. Tom shook his head and Avery immediately launched into his tale.
"Hannah told me that Walker hadn't been gone but a week before that Irish floozy took up with one of the town constables. Young fellow, good looking too according to Hannah," Abraham cast a quick look at his wife beside him who blushed and smiled. "I always wondered why she married Walker, he being so much older than she was. Reckon it was just to get out of Ireland if yer ask me." Avery concluded.
There were murmurs of assent from around the table and Harry Whyte added "That and his Sergeants pay. God knows he's a dull old bugger, but he didn't deserve what she's done."
Captain Hughes walked into the mess at that moment and the talk and laughter slowly died away. Most Officers seldom ventured into the enlisted men's mess, but Hughes was an exception. Wherever possible he preferred to address his men directly rather than leave it up to the sergeants. It was an unusual practice, but one that the men appreciated.
"I won't keep you for long lads, but there will be parade in the morning followed by a day of light duties. Those not on duty will be free to go into town. Everyone is expected back in the barracks by sunset." Hughes paused and ran his hand through his black hair that was cut short in the manner favoured by their Colonel, Arthur Wellesley.
"We will be staying in Southampton on standby for deployment to the West Indies. In the next few months we will be getting some new recruits to make up our numbers, so enjoy the extra room in the barracks while you can because it wont last. There's an extra ration of rum to be served tonight as a welcome home. Carry on men and I'll see you at morning parade." Hughes walked slowly out of the mess, a small figure, but one that commanded the respect and loyalty of every man present. He stopped here and there to speak to this man or that, to shake a hand or pat a back and finally the Captains eyes met Dick Sharpes and signalled for him to follow.
Tom watched Sharpe follow Hughes to the mess door and stand talking to him for a moment. Dick's as tall as Hughes now is, Tom thought to himself, wondering when Sharpe had grown those extra inches. He hadn't even noticed although he had spent each day with Sharpe and knew his body well. Tom watched the two men talking and smiling in the doorway, and realised that Sharpe wasn't half as scrawny as he had been either. He shook his head and pulled his eyes away, feeling a hot flush spread through him as he thought about Sharpe's body. I'll have to take a good look later; Tom thought to himself and wondered how soon they could leave without raising eyebrows.
Their ration of rum came around and Tom sipped at it slowly not really wanting it, his mind on the night ahead. He saw Josh Smith drink his own rather quickly before spluttering and coughing. "You've got to drink it slow lad." He said.
Sharpe arrived back and sat down. "Captain wants me," he said without so much as a blink. "What!" Tom said, aware that his voice was too loud. "What did yer tell him?"
Sharpe frowned a little and chewed his lip, a gesture that Tom seldom saw. "I told him yes." Sharpe said quietly and looked away.
"Bloody Hell!" Tom muttered.
Sharpe looked back quickly "I haven't seen him in the two weeks we were on the boat. He's lonely and he said he missed me." It was almost a challenge; Tom thought and suddenly wondered what to do. He didn't want to start an argument, as he had no real claim on Sharpe. They were mates, but that was all. Well, that was all it was to Sharpe at least, but Tom knew that his own feelings went deeper. Tom answered "I'll wait for yer then." Sharpe smiled and nodded.
"Are you two coming with us tomorrow?" asked Percy Peters; his fair face flushed from the double ration of rum. Tom looked at him blankly "The brothel! Toby Dodds told us where to find a good one. He was born and raised in Southampton." Peters said enthusiastically.
"Wouldn't miss it Percy!" said Sharpe grinning "And we don't have to be back till evening!" Sharpe turned to Garrard "You coming Tom?" he asked, before smirking and laughing. But Tom didn't laugh. He looked a Sharpe and shook his head "I've got better things to do with my money than waste it on whores." He said quietly. Sharpe just looked away.
Changes Part 3
Tom stayed in the mess for quite some time after Sharpe left, watching the others who were talking and listening to tales as they enjoyed the extra ration of rum that was served up. Most of the married men retired early to take advantage of a little privacy before the rest of the Company returned to the barracks.
Josh Smith sat quietly, never joining in, speaking only when spoken too. His eyes followed Bill Hanson as he left with his wife and family and Tom could see them fill with tears. Later, Tom caught him drinking the remains of his rum, but didn't have the heart to scold him. I know how he feels, Tom thought to himself.
Tom eventually tired of waiting for Sharpe to return and sought his berth. Josh Smith trailed behind, swaying a little. He cast a fearful glance at Wardell, who still sat drinking with his own circle, but the older man ignored him.
Stripping off his uniform and hanging it on a peg on the wall, Tom climbed into his bed. The berth was uncomfortable, the slats hard and the sheets rough. Tom tossed and turned thinking of Dick and what he had planned for this evening. No chance now, he decided as he turned on his side. Even if Dick did come back, he wouldn't want Tom to make love to him. It wasn't something that Dick had ever said straight out to Tom, but he'd made it know all the same.
Tom remembered the first night that Dick had gone back to Hughes after they had become lovers. When he had returned, he had taken Tom. It had been hard and fast and while Dick hadn't hurt Tom, he had certainly surprised him. But Tom was even more surprised when Sharpe rolled away when he had tried to do likewise.
"No Tom, I don't want to," was all Sharpe had said and Tom had left it at that. But the pattern had been set and after the second time Tom had stopped asking on the nights when Sharpe had been with the Captain, content to let the younger man have his way. Tom thought he understood why Dick refused him on those nights but they had never spoken about the reasons. It might have been because of Tom's initial repulsion back in Flanders when Sharpe returned each evening with the scent of Hughes all over him. But Tom suspected it was because being with two men in one night might make Dick feel like a whore again.
Sleep eluded Tom and he rolled over again, unable to get the vision of Sharpe and Hughes out of his head. He thought about how he had seen them in the barn in Geldermaison making love. Christ, Tom rolled over again, his body aching.
"Tom, Tom," came a small voice beside him and Tom turned over to find Josh Smith, crouched down beside his bed, his eyes big and wet.
"What's wrong Josh, what's the matter?" he asked a bit too roughly.
"Can I sleep with you Tom, please? I keep thinking about Bill and what he's doing down there with his wife. I can't sleep." Smith sniffed and wiped his eyes.
Bloody Hell, thought Tom.
"I don't know Josh, Dick will be back soon I think," he began, but Smith looked like he was about to cry and Tom relented.
"All right, but just for a while, and youve got to stop this crying Josh, yer just can't keep doing it! Infantrymen aren't supposed to cry!"
He pulled back the covers, glad that Wardell was too far away to notice and let the younger man in. To Tom's surprise Smith lost no time in moving close and wrapping his arms around Tom. Tom could smell the rum on Smith's breath and decided that he was more than a little drunk.
Tom tried to pull away from the warm thin body that was pressed against his own. He knew Smith must be able to feel his arousal and he didn't want to frighten the lad. But Josh Smith held tight, his small hands suddenly slipping between them. He's worst than bloody Dick; Tom rued as he grabbed Smith's hand, which was sliding down his stomach.
"What's wrong Tom, don't you want to?" Josh asked in his quiet little voice.
"NO, what would Bill say, what would Dick say!" said Tom desperately.
Smith leaned closer and Tom could feel his warm breath on his chest "I don't think Bill would mind. He's down there, behind that curtain, tupping his wife! He's not thinking about me Tom." Garrard could hear the hurt in the younger man's voice.
"Listen Josh, he does care about you, but he's in a tough spot. Yer don't really want to do this with me, yer just angry and upset." Tom's words were cut short as Smith leaned in and kissed him hard. His mind stopped thinking and his body responded. He responded to Smith's kisses on a purely instinctive level, and while a part of his mind said this warm body that he had a hold of wasn't Sharpe's body, it still felt very good.
Tom pulled away again just as one of Smith's hands finally managed to grasp a hold of him. "But you want to do this with me, don't you Tom." Smith whispered. Garrard gasped, his body at war with his mind. Dick was with Hughes doing worse than this, Tom suddenly thought, what did it matter anyway. Christ, Dick could be doing anything!
"Couldn't you wait for me Tom?" came Sharpe's voice and Tom looked up breathing hard. Sharpe's face was in the shadows and his voice held no hint of whether the words were said in amusement or anger.
"He was crying again, I'm trying to keep him quiet." It was the first thing that came to Tom's head and it sounded lame. "Get back in yer own berth now Josh, Dick can keep yer company." Tom watched as Smith climbed back up before turning back to Sharpe who was sitting on the edge of the berth pulling off his boots.
"He's lonely, upset, I couldn't keep his hands off me." Tom said and Sharpe laughed as he continued undressing. "So yer want ME to keep him company? How am I supposed to keep his hands off then?" and without another word Sharpe swung up onto the top berth, his bare legs dangling for a moment in front of Toms eyes before disappearing.
Damnit, Tom thought as he rolled over again, Jesus Christ! What a night! He listened to the faint voices of the two men above talking softly. Just talking and nothing more and he breathed a sigh of relief.
Tom was still wide awake when Sharpe finally climbed down and into their berth. Arms reached and mouths met and Tom thought he would explode if he didn't have Sharpe.
"Dick, I want you" he murmured against Sharpe's neck as he kissed and nipped his way up and down. Gone were all his worries about privacy, if anyone wanted to watch then let them. "Please Dick, it's been so long," he said again and Sharpe turned away.
Tom groaned and was about to apologise when Dick looked back over his shoulder saying, "It'll be best like this. This way it looks like yer just laying against my back." Tom didn't wait. He pulled Sharpe to him and bit the back of his neck while his fingers went to work.
"Don't need to worry about that too much cause I've been with Hughes. Twice!" he said with a gasp as Tom bit him again even harder.
Tom tried to gather his control, aware that he was doing this too quickly but he lost all willpower as he felt himself slide easily into Sharpe.
Oh God it felt so good, Tom groaned and he suddenly thought that Hughes had been doing exactly this just a short time ago.
It was over very quickly, and Tom lay against Sharpe's back gasping, wanting to say something to explain, to apologise. I used him, Tom thought, how could I do that. "I'm sorry Dick, but I've been thinking about you all night," he said.
"Yeah? Are yer sure? Were yer thinking about me or Josh Smith?" said Sharpe into the darkness.
"YOU, only you, always you." Tom said desperately. Not now, he didn't want to talk about this now. He was too tired and his head was still spinning.
There was a rustle and Sharpe turned over. "It's all right Tom, I understand." He said quietly.
Tom brushed his face, "So, do yer want to have a go now?" he asked trying to look into Sharpes eyes, but they were turned away.
"No." came the flat reply "I've had enough of it for tonight," and Sharpe closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Tom was awoken the next morning by a bugle call. Groaning he rolled over and nudged Dick. There was a sudden flurry of movement from the top bunk and Josh Smith leapt down, grabbed his clothes and hurried for the door. Tom rubbed his face. Either Josh was hung over from the rum and was about to be sick or he couldn't bear the thought of facing Tom.
"Oh Christ!" Tom groaned and sat up "Come on Dick, time to get up." Sharpe stirred and opened his eyes. As he sat up, Tom could see the dark purple marks that he had left on Sharpe's neck the night before. Reaching out, Tom brushed one of the bruises gently. "I'm sorry about last night Dick, I really am. Did I hurt yer?" he asked.
Sharpe put his hand up to touch his neck. "Putting yer mark on me were yer Tom?" he asked lightly "For whose benefit? The whores at the brothel or Captain Hughes?"
"I'm sorry Dick. I won't do it again, not like that. I was too rough." Sharpe laughed out loud.
"Christ Tom, you don't know what rough is!" he said and laughed again. "Come on, I'm not angry. I understand what it's like sometimes. Hughes was just as bad last night. He didn't want to let me go." Sharpe smiled at Garrard and the older man answered "Well I'm glad you did come back."
As they entered the mess for breakfast, Tom noticed Josh Smith sitting alone, looking pale. "Get me some porridge please Dick. I need to talk to Josh for a moment." Tom said, not really knowing what he should say, but knowing he had to say something. Smith looked away when Tom sat down, his small hands worrying at a frayed edge on his red jacket.
"Listen Josh, about last night. I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing." Tom didn't really know what Josh might think he meant by the wrong thing, but he felt that his apology might put the younger man at ease. Josh looked up, surprise in his dark brown eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong Tom. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm so ashamed." Tom smiled gently at Smith. "It's all right lad, nothing to be ashamed of. You'd had too much to drink and you were upset. That's all." Smith cast his eyes around the mess until he saw Hanson. "You won't tell Bill will you Tom? Please?" Tom shook his head "No, I won't say a thing. Now come on over and sit with us and have some porridge."
Changes Part 4
Southampton: April 1795
At parade the next morning Major Shee addressed the assembled Regiment. As he looked them over his displeasure was clearly reflected in his eyes.
"The laxity with regard to uniform that has been prevalent since Flanders will no longer be tolerated. There will be no excuses for anyone whose uniform and kit are not precisely regulation. The quartermaster has ample stocks of buttons, chalk and anything else that was not able to be replaced while we were away. Uniform and kit will be checked at parade each morning and anyone not meeting regulations by tomorrow will be put on report." There were a few quiet groans from the ranks as men realised that part of their long awaited time off duty would have to be sacrificed to repair their uniform and prepare their kits for inspection.
"Whilst we are barracked here, those of you who wish to will be allowed to take up work in the town provided that it does not interfere with your regular duties." This was usual arrangement when the Regiment was not at war, but one that had little effect on Tom. He had no trade other than his farming knowledge and as jobs were scarce in most towns at the best of times, Tom knew he had little chance of finding anything with so many of the other lads looking for work also. He glanced at Sharpe briefly worried for a moment that his friend might be tempted to go back to his old line of work, but told himself that this would not happen. Sharpe had no need to resort to whoring. He had a place to sleep, adequate food and even money when the army saw fit to pay their wages.
"Full uniform must be worn during parade, when on duty and at any time you leave the barracks except for those who going to work. I need not remind you that whilst in town you will conduct yourselves in a manner befitting a soldier in His Majesty's Army. Any untoward behaviour will be severely dealt with." Major Shee scowled once more at the men and then turned them over to the company captains.
Tom noticed that Sergeant Walker was once again at his post, but his face held a look so at odds with his usual countenance that Tom wondered how well the Sergeant really was.
With parade concluded the men relaxed and wandered off. Bill Hanson came to stand beside Tom "So how's Josh going?" Hanson asked as he looked over to where Smith and Sharpe were standing with Peters and Rawlings.
"You should ask him yerself Bill, he's still pretty upset." Tom said thinking again about what had happened last night.
"He wont talk to me, just stands there saying nothing." Bill shook his head. "What am I supposed to say anyway. I can't pretend that I'm not glad to be home, glad to see Jean and the little 'uns." Bill paused as he thought about his wife. "It's good to be back, to be with her again. I missed that. But it does feel strange after all that happened in Flanders." He said softly.
Tom looked at him "Yeah, I guess it's different being with her again after being with Josh."
Bill frowned "What do you mean Tom," he asked. Tom blushed and looked away, aware that he had misunderstood Hanson's words. Understanding slowly lit Bill Hanson's eyes. The older man stopped smiling and Tom saw something different there when he spoke again.
"I never did that with Josh. I know what you mean, but I didn't do it, it didn't seem right. We just held each other, touched each other, that was all." Bill hastily looked over at Sharpe and then back to Tom "Is that what you do with Dick."
Tom swallowed, sorry he had spoken. "Yeah, Dick showed me how. It was his idea. He wanted me to. He was always asking me and I gave up in the end," Tom explained.
Hanson nodded "I suppose it's not surprising really, given what Dick used to do. Poor lad doesn't know any different."
Looking away, Hanson lowered his voice "I overheard Frank Hawkins one day bragging on about this and that. He said once yer'd done a lad you'd never go back to a woman." Hanson paused and looked back at Tom, curiosity in his eyes.
"I wouldn't say that Bill, I still like women and Dick's damn eager enough to find himself a whore." Tom blushed, aware that he had let a little more slip. He looked away.
"Yeah, I'd never trust a word Frank Hawkins said anyway." Hanson patted Tom's shoulder "You've been a good mate to Dick, you helped him. I'm not going to judge you but there are others who might. Just be careful."
A little voice shouted Daddy and small feet scampered across the parade ground. Hanson caught his son and swung him up onto his shoulder then smiled at his wife who followed close behind.
"Hello Jean" said Tom and the fair-haired woman smiled at him. Tom could see both Sharpe and Smith staring at them and was surprised when Hanson called out "Josh, Dick come over here."
Sharpe waved and took a hold of Smiths elbow to pull him across the parade ground.
"Jean, these are two of the lads I was telling you about. This is Joshua Smith and Dick Sharpe."
Sharpe flashed a big smile before saying "Ma'am." Josh nodded but said nothing, his eyes going to the dark-haired child perched on Bill's shoulders and the other held in Jean's arms.
"I have to thank you Joshua," began Jean and Smith looked at her like a frightened rabbit. "Bill tells me that you looked after him in Flanders, that you bandaged his arm when he was cut by the bayonet."
Smith blushed. "I did Ma'am but it was Bill who looked after me," he said shyly. "Well you probably looked after each other, that's what mates do, isn't it Tom." She added turning to Garrard.
Tom smiled and nodded. "That's right," he said as he caught Dick's eye.
"We're taking the children down to the seashore, would you like to come with us Josh?" Hanson asked. "Yes, Bill." Smith replied, a smile quickly spreading across his face.
Sharpe and Garrard bid them goodbye and watched them leave.
"Well, I'm off too Tom, the others are waiting for me. Sure yer won't change yer mind?" said Sharpe, his voice light. "Can't understand why yer don't want to come with us. Anyone would think yer didn't like women any more.
Tom stared at Sharpe, and the smallest sensation of unease crept into his mind as he remembered what Hanson had overheard Hawkins saying. Surely that wasn't it, Tom told himself. He still fancied woman, just not whores. He had always found business with them to be cold and impersonal. But what if he had somehow changed? Bloody Hell, last night he had been aroused by Josh Smith in his arms, so it was useless to say that it was only Dick Sharpe who caused him to look the other way. What if he no longer found women to be physically satisfying?
"Tom? Did yer hear me?" Sharpe asked and Tom became aware of the younger man's puzzled gaze.
"Yes, I'll come with you. I've changed my mind," he replied. Better to be sure, Tom decided. Sharpe grinned.
The brothel that Toby Dodds led them to was far enough removed from the wharves to be considered safe for anyone who was not a sailor. The waterfront brothels were notorious for the rough cliental they attracted, sailors from all types of ships, who disliked anyone who was not of the same profession to use their whores. The last thing any of the Infantrymen wanted was to get into a fight with a group of seamen. Such things were fairly common according to Dodds. As they made their way through the twisting streets, Dodds told them tales of his youth spent in Southampton. Tales of the drunken brawls that would break out between seamen from rival ships and of the press gangs which were always looking for unwary young men.
"At least in the army you get to spend most of yer time on dry land" explained Dodds when asked why he hadn't joined the navy like his father. "I get so terribly seasick!" The others nodded. They had seen ample evidence of this on the way home from Flanders.
The Scarlet Rose was in a dull little lane that had probably never seen a rose in it's life time. It was shabby but clean inside, which was a great improvement on some of the brothels Tom had been dragged along to in Cork. The women looked like they washed too, thought Tom, which would make a nice change. He stood back and watched as Sharpe and Peters eyed the girls over quickly before grabbing one each and making their way up the stairs as if they were running a race. Sam Rawlings was with Harry Whyte and the older man was clearly giving the younger one some last minute instructions.
"So Luv, find anything you like?" Tom looked at the girl who now stood beside him. She was short and nicely rounded, her figure clearly revealed beneath the loose wrap she wore. Her hair was a starting shade of red, which Tom knew could not be real. Tom looked around and suddenly realised that almost all of the women had red hair. He almost burst out laughing thinking that Percy Peters would feel right at home here.
"So are you just going to look, because you can do that if you want to, but it will still cost yer?"
"Er, no." said Tom as he watched Whyte and Rawlings accompany two girls up the stairs"
"So is it yer first time Luv? Well don't be worried, I'll show yer everything and yer'll have something to brag about to yer mates." The girl slid her arm around Tom's waist. "It's a shilling before we start though."
"I've done this before yer know." Said Tom fishing in his pocket. "Lot's of times!" She eyed the coin speculatively and tucked it away "Sure yer have Luv, and I bet yer could teach me a thing or two! Come on upstairs and yer can show me."
Tom followed reluctantly. As they neared the top of the stairs Tom could clearly hear someone shouting out in ecstasy. It could have been Dick he decided, but then he heard another voice from another room doing the same. Peters, he wondered and hid his smile. Where the two young men having some sort of competition to see who could be the loudest? He'd have to ask Sharpe later.
Tom laughed to himself and the girl shot him a strange look. "Just listening, I recognise their voices." Said Tom by way of explanation and then blushed slightly. The girl raised an eyebrow and shook her head before commencing another long explanation about how she much preferred soldiers to sailors as they didn't taste of salt. Tom nodded absently and listened to the sounds coming from the nearby rooms. Yes, that was definitely Dick he decided and he remembered hearing that sound himself as Sharpe looked down at him, his eyes wide with ecstasy. What exactly was Sharpe was doing, Tom wondered, trying to imagine him with the woman on the other side on the wall. Perhaps he should have asked to watch, he thought and then felt disgusted with himself. What's wrong with me, Tom wondered as he found himself in a small room next door to Sharpe's with the red-headed woman who was staring at him with a peculiar look on her face.
"Was it a cannon?" she asked.
"Er, what?" asked Tom, perplexed. He hadn't been listening to a word she had said, her voice drowning on and on.
"Were yer standing too close to a cannon when it went off? Yer seem a trifle deaf." She said raising her voice.
"Yes." Tom said nodding, hoping she would stop talking if she thought he couldn't hear her. Unfortunately this didn't have the desired effect.
"Well me name's Nelly." She almost screamed at him as she began undoing the buttons on his breeches.
"Do yer like to leave yer boots on?" she asked "I know a lot of you lads do. Makes a girl a bit uncomfortable though. Yer never know where yer foots going to end up. Oh my what have we here, this is impressive."
Tom blushed and pulled her hands away. "I'll finish it myself." He said and she whooped with laughter. "That's what yer paying me to do Luv. Gord, I should get one of yer mates in here to tell yer what yer doing, yer poor deaf bastard. Addled a bit too I suppose."
Tom groaned, wishing he had never come here. "He's distracting me, that's all." Tom explained again as he took off the rest of his clothes and sat down on the bed. The woman sat down next to him and patted his thigh. "Who luv?" she asked and the look she gave him told Tom she clearly thought he was a little on the slow side.
From next door Tom could clearly hear the sound of the bed head banging against the wall, together with moans and groans both high and low.
"Dick, Dick is." Tom said nodding his head towards the wall.
"Dick? Oh, yer mate next door, the good looking one?" she ran her hand up Tom's thigh and he turned and took her in his arms.
"Now that's more like it Luv, nothing to be frightened about. Doesn't hurt a bit. Did anyone tell yer what to do?" she shouted at him and Tom laughed and eased her down. "I told yer that I know what I'm doing." He said again as he moved on top of her.
"Oh I do like a man who takes control, so masterful, so exciting. Why it makes a poor girl go weak at the knees it does, all a-tremble like and ...Oh My! yer do know what ta do with that don't yer. Yer done this before...I can see that, lots of times! But there's no need to rush it cause we charge by the go and not by the minute and so yer may as well take yer time and enjoy it but I know what you lads are like, just home after months away and yer cant hardly wait long enough to get yer breeches down half the time, why only last week there was a lad in here who was so damn eager that he didn't even make it to the top of the stairs before...oh...don't stop..yer haven't finished...what's wrong Luv.."
Tom leaned up and stared at the woman who lay beneath him with her legs spread wide and her hands on his shoulders.
"Bloody Hell! I'm not paying yer to talk! Can't yer keep yer mouth shut? I can't concentrate!" he asked in desperation. Nelly laughed.
"Now I can think of much better things to do with my mouth but I cant do it if it's shut. Do yer like this? She asked as she licked along his collarbone "or maybe this" she asked as she bit his chest. "Ouch! NO!" Tom grimaced.
"Yer know there are men who pay good money for a girl to bite them they do. And talk! Yes, some men like a girl to talk dirty to them while they're doing it. Would yer like me to do that, cause I could if yer want me too? Only yer probably wouldn't hear me too well with yer hearing problem and all so I'd have to shout out a bit, but yer do seem to be able to hear mate next door all right, mind you he is making enough noise to raise the dead."
Bloody Hell, thought Tom, will this ever end? He sped up his thrusts, wanting to finish quickly "Oh yes, oh yer are good at this, has anyone ever told yer that before, real good, why I'd say yer were on of the best men I'd had in a long time. Hee, hee, long! Yes, long too! One of the longest, I like that I do, oh yes,"
Tom closed his eyes and wished for a moment that he could put his fingers in his ears. Once again Tom became aware Dick Sharpe moaning loudly in the next room and suddenly Tom's world changed. Gone were the faded walls and the worn sheets, gone was Nelly with her bright red hair and her grating voice. Tom was suddenly back in Flanders in a feather bed and it was Dick Sharpe beneath him moaning. "Oh god" he murmured, thankful it was all over.
"Oh my, yer are a good one, yer really do know how to show a girl a good time, yer do. Yer can do it again for half price if yer like, that's a special we have here during the day, but not on Saturdays, we're too busy then with everyone coming into town and all. So are yer ready cause I am, I'll always be ready for you Luv."
Tom stood up and started dressing. "Can you go and find out how long my friend next door will be?" he asked.
"How long? How Long? Ooo yer are awful you are, how long indeed, I'll go find out how long he is and yer can come with me, I'm sure he won't mind" and with that Nelly picked up her wrap and left the room. Tom groaned and pulled on his boots, and followed her.
In the room next door Dick Sharpe lay tangled up in sheets and a girl. They were both laughing.
"Yer mate wants a word" said Nelly by way of introduction and Tom smiled shyly.
"Are you nearly finished Dick?" he asked
"Finished! Christ Tom I'm just getting started. Why?"
Tom hesitated and glanced at the two women before looking back at Sharpe who had sat up and was leaning on his elbows, the sheet now low around his hips. Tom swallowed. "I thought yer might want to have a look around Southampton with me. Maybe take a walk to the water or something?" Well that's what he had originally intended but seeing Dick lying there, Tom's thought's were now going in other directions.
The two whores giggled and Tom suddenly felt foolish.
"Maybe another time Tom. I don't plan on leaving her for a while and then Percy and I were going to find a tavern and do a bit of drinking. I'll see yer back at the barracks if yer don't want to wait for us."
Tom nodded and closed the door. Nelly turned to him a big grin on her face. "Well now yer friends going to be a l-o-n-g time so why don't yer stay a while more yerself, yer wouldn't want yer friends to think that one shot was all yer had in yer?"
"Guard duty, sorry" said Tom as he hurried down the hall.
"We'll you come back again now Luv, won't yer and maybe next time if yer want yer can bring yer friend in with yer cause I know what some of you lads are like and such and there are some girls as won't do it but I don't mind but it will cost yer a bit more if yer like that sort of thing." Nelly's voice followed Tom down the steps and out the front.
He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face in relief. Bloody Hell if he could still do it under such trying circumstances then he must be all right he decided! But Tom also felt disappointed. Why on earth could Sharpe want to spend the day a brothel! Tom laughed, well a part form the obvious of course. Still, it stung a little that Dick would rather spend the day with whores than with his mate. Sometimes Tom thought he would never understand Dick Sharpe.
Changes Part 5
Further into town Tom came to an area of small shops. It was busy here, women with baskets bustling to and fro. Spying a small cake shop Tom felt in his pocket and smiled. Why not, he thought to himself. He was always careful with money, sending most of his pay home to his family, but he had just survived the French and the harsh conditions in Flanders so why not treat himself to a small luxury.
The smell of delicious things met Tom as he hesitated on the threshold. Stretched out before him in baskets were all types of buns and cakes. Tom licked his lips.
"Morning to you, what would you like?" asked the elderly man behind the counter.
Tom smiled "Er, I don't know, there's too much here." He said and the man laughed.
"Just came home did you lad?" he asked in a kindly voice and Tom nodded.
"Well, did your Ma make currant buns when you were little? Because if she did you'll like these. My wife's secret recipe, you know."
Tom walked over to look at the currant buns. "How much would they be?" he asked a little hesitantly.
"Halfpenny each." Said the man Tom handed over a coin and the man put the bun in a paper bag.
"Must say I'm surprised that a lad like you isn't down near the wharves looking for a bit of entertainment. That's where most of your Regiment would be today wouldn't it?"
Tom blushed. Bloody hell did soldiers have such a bad reputation in town?
"Really father, that's no way to talk to the customers." A short browned-haired young woman came out of the back of the shop wiping her hands on her apron and clicking her tongue at her father.
"Please forgive my father's rudeness, Sir." She said smiling "He doesn't realise that not all young men are soulless heathens like he was when he was in the army."
She smiled and Tom nodded to her "No offence taken miss, and yer father's right. That's where most of the lads are today." He blushed again, remembering he had been there himself earlier.
"I'd best be going," he said starting to leave but turned back on impulse. "Could yer tell me where the road out of town is. I want to take a walk, out into the countryside but I don't know my way around."
"Where do you come from?" ask the older man "Rippon. My family had a farm there." Tom replied trying to keep his anger out of his voice. "We were turned off when we couldn't pay the rent after a bad season."
The baker nodded as if this story were only too familiar to him. "Well if you head north you'll come to a big church. Follow the road beside it and it will take you out of town and on to Eastleigh up along the Itchen River."
The girl nodded, and smiled and Tom thought how pretty she was. She walked around the counter and stood beside Tom saying, "When you come to the second lane on the left turn off and walk until you come to an old well by the stone wall. You can get a drink there. My Uncles owns the land and he won't mind. There's a big oak tree in the pasture. It's a nice spot to sit on a hot day. You could eat your bun there."
"Thank you, are you sure he won't mind?" Tom asked
"Of course not. If anyone asks, tell them that you're a friend of Mary Chisolm's and that I said you could," she concluded
"Well thank you Miss Chisolm, Mr Chisolm."
"That's all right lad, I hope we see you again."
Tom hurried through the street and soon found the Eastleigh Road. Once out of the town, Tom felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The air seemed fresher, no longer laden with the smells of humanity. There was greenness around him instead of stone. Birds sang, insects buzzed and a light breeze caressed his face.
Tom thought briefly of Dick Sharpe and wished he was here to share this. Well, maybe next time, Tom vowed.
As he walked he began first to hum and then to sing. Not songs that he sang in the mess hall and the barracks, but songs Tom had learned far earlier. These were the songs of his childhood. Songs he had heard his mother singing daily, words that came to him without conscious effort, tunes he knew as well as his own heartbeat. Tom raised his voice and sang louder. He was not a great singer, but he could keep a tune well enough. Dick would laugh if he heard him singing songs like 'Barbara Allen' and 'Green Broom', Tom thought. They were women's song, some sad, some love songs, but Tom liked them and they reminded him of home.
Home, how he missed it, Tom thought as he turned into the second lane. His high spirits of a few moments earlier evaporated as he realised how alone he was and wished again that Dick was here with him.
Dick! Tom knew he was heading for trouble where Dick was concerned. Dick Sharpe held the power to wound Tom to the heart and seemed oblivious to it. My own fault, I should never have allowed my feeling to become this strong, Tom rued as he climbed the small stone wall and drank from the well. The water was sweet and cool and he washed his face as well.
Not far away, a large oak tree spread it's great shady branches and Tom wandered over and sat down. He took out the currant bun and slowly ate it, savouring each tiny bit, trying to make it last. Bloody Hell, that's what he did with Dick, Tom thought. Savoured each moment he was with him because he didn't know how long they would have together. Mates, that's what they were and that's all they could ever be to each other. They might snatch at a little comfort, a little pleasure every now and again, but it couldn't be like that forever...could it?
Tom sighed, his thoughts in confusion, his dreams now so different from what they had been before. Like many young men Tom had a vision of how his life would be. He would serve his eight years in the army, save his money and then find himself a little farm somewhere, get married, have children. A simple life really, no great aspirations. But that was before Dick Sharpe had crept into his heart and turned most of his ideas upside down.
Now Tom didn't want to think about leaving the army or never seeing Dick again. Yet he knew he could never voice these thoughts to his friend. Dick would think him daft! Hell, anyone would think him daft!
But just for a while as he lay in the shade beneath the oak tree, Tom allowed himself to think about what it would be like if he and Dick got a farm together. He could teach Dick to milk the cows and they could work the fields together. No one would question two men running a farm. Such things were done. No time for wives, they were too busy. They could take turns cooking and cleaning, at least the army had taught him those skills. And at night? Tom sighed and closed his eyes, a thousand images flowing through his mind. No one would know and no one would mind and he and Dick could live together forever.
Practicality was not always a blessing and commonsense could sometimes be a curse. Tom knew that it was just a dream and that was all it could ever be. Reality was his close companion and Tom felt a sadness deep down inside. He wished that just for once he was more reckless, more of a dreamer and that he could believe anything was possible.
It was mid afternoon when Tom arrived back at the barracks. He found Harry Whyte polishing his boots.
"Where's Dick?" he asked not seeing his friend anywhere.
Whyte snorted "He and Percy were still at it when I left just before noon. Honestly Tom I don't know how they kept going. I was buggered!" Whyte jerked his head towards the berth where Rawlings lay sprawled fast asleep. "Sam was just about dead on his feet trying to keep up with them." Whyte grinned "I think he had a good time though."
Tom shook his head and made his way to the company clerk's office. For a few pennies the Infantrymen could buy a sheet of paper and the use of a pen. Few of the men could write, but those who could would often write letters for the others. Tom was luckier than most. While having no formal schooling, Tom's mother had taught him elementary reading and writing.
Tom found sunlit spot in the mess hall, which was deserted at this time, and sat down to write his letter.
'Dear Mother and Father,' he began formally. As he wrote he could hear his mothers voice reading the letter to his father and sisters.
'I am back from Flanders,' he paused and looked over that word, hoping he had spelled it correctly.
'I was shot, but not bad. I am well now. My mate Dick looked after me. He is a good mate.' Tom wanted to write 'friend' but could not remember how the 'i' and the 'e' went together.
'I miss you all and hope this letter finds you well. Love Tom' he concluded. He would ask the company clerk to put the return address on the envelope when he posted it. Perhaps his mother would write back to him.
Tom returned to the barracks, but Sharpe and Peters still had not returned. He sat on his bunk and sewed the loose buttons back onto his jacket. The afternoon wore on and Tom began to worry that the two young men would not make it back to the barracks before sunset.
Sharpe and Peter's staggered in with only minutes to spare when the rest of the Regiment was making their way to the mess hall.
Changes Part 6
Sharpe and Peter's staggered in with only minutes to spare when the rest of the Regiment was making their way to the mess hall.
It was obvious to Tom immediately that the two men were very, very drunk. "We're not drunk!" Sharpe declared, when they finally managed to sit down on the bench in the mess hall. "We're exhausted!" The rest of the group laughed loudly but Tom looked on in disgust.
Percy Peters propped his elbows on the table to try and hold himself upright. "Can you guess how many times we did it?" he asked the smiling faces around him "What! With each other? Christ Percy I didn't think you were into that" Harry Whyte slapped Peters on the back almost causing the younger man to fall face first into his stew. Peters face turned almost as red as his hair. "Shit no! With the women! Seven times!" his face screwed up a little "Err I think it was seven, I lost count." He slurred.
Sharpe was leaning against Tom's shoulder now gazing up at his face. "So did yer have a nice time Tom? Did yer end up staying for a while?" he asked, the words slow. "No, I didn't stay and yes I had a nice time. I went for a walk in the country." Sharpe giggled and opened his mouth to say something else but Sam Rawlings interrupted him. "What does Percy mean Dick, their red hair wasn't real? How can yer tell."
Sharpe sat up and leaned to his other side to whisper something into Rawlings ear which caused the younger man to open his eyes wide in astonishment. "Really?" he asked
"Didn't yer notice Sam? Surely yer must have seen?" Rawlings looked around at the assembled faces and replied nervously "I didn't look there, should I do that next time?" laughter erupted and crude suggestions were tossed around the table. Tom turned to Josh Smith who was sitting quietly on his other side looking at something in his hand.
"What have you there, Joshy?" Tom asked and Smith held up a piece of stone. "It's a fossil Tom, I found it on the beach today. See," he handed the rock to Tom who peered at it waiting for Josh to explain "I think it might have been some sort of sea snail creature, you can see the curve of it's shell." Tom looked at it in amazement and stared back at Josh "How do you know these things Josh?" he asked. The others had stopped to listen too and were looking at the stone. "I read about it in a book when I was at school." He replied quietly with a small smile. There was silence for a moment as the others tried to think of something to say, but Tom knew that not a man present, including himself had the faintest knowledge of what Smith was talking about.
"Well one of those women showed me something today that I bet yer never read in a book or learnt at school Josh. Do you know what she did?" Peters began again and Tom sat back on the bench with a groan.
The talk ended fairly early for once, most of the Infantrymen being worn out after their day in town. Despite being already drunk, Sharpe had still managed to drink his allocated ration of rum as well as most of Josh Smith's when the lad wasn't looking and Tom was left with the task of assisting Sharpe back to the barracks.
Once there Sharpe could do little more than role on the bunk giggling as Tom tried to pull off his boots and take off his clothes. "Not tonight Tom, I'm too bloody drunk and too bloody tired to get it up." Sharpe said as Tom began to pull of his breeches.
That much is obvious, thought Tom to himself, but despite his words Sharpe reached for Tom as he got into the narrow bunk "Yer can do me if yer really want to Tom, but I got to tell yer that I feel bloody sick too," said Sharpe as he lay his head on Tom's shoulder "The bunks spinning," he added drowsily.
"Well I hope yer had a good time Dick because yer going to feel worse in the morning! I've told you before Dick, you shouldn't drink so much." Tom replied wrapping his arms around Sharpe.
Ignoring Tom's chastisement, Sharpe answered, "Course I had a good time. It was fuckin' great Tom. I really missed it in Flanders," his words slurred against Tom's shoulder.
Garrard brought up his hand and gently smoothed Sharpe's hair back from his face. "Missed what Dick?" he asked.
"Women of course! Christ didn't you?" Sharpe said sounding surprised.
"I had you to keep me happy Dick. I didn't need anyone else." Tom said gently, suddenly wanting to let Sharpe know the extent of his feelings. He felt comfortable holding Sharpe like this, whispering to him in the darkness.
"Yeah, but wouldn't yer rather do it with a woman? I would. Women are soft and they just feel right. Don't yer think Tom?"
Tom felt his stomach turn over as Sharpe's word sank in.
"Yer mean you prefer women Dick?" asked Tom trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.
Sharpe laughed "Ah Tom...Christ, what do you think!" Sharpe spluttered, clearly amused by Tom's question. "Course I'd rather fuck a woman than have some bloke fuck me." He laughed more and Tom felt his heart sink.
Sharpe was drunk, Tom told himself. Too drunk to know the hurt that his words would cause. But that still didn't alter the fact that Sharpe had spoken the truth.
Tom lay there silently as he tried to think of something to say. "Does that mean me too Dick? Does it mean that you'd rather do it with a whore than do it with me?" he asked at last, afraid of Sharpe's answer.
Slowly Sharpe raised his head and looked at Tom, all signs of mirth gone. "Well I guess it does Tom," Sharpe said frowning but Tom could see him trying to work something out in his head. "But there's more to it than just fucking with you, Tom. It's different and I like that with you. I don't know what it is, I don't know what to call it, but it's different with you Tom."
Sharpe laid his head down again and Tom brushed his hair softly letting his fingers tangle in the blonde locks that had been loosened earlier in the day and now lay everywhere on Tom's shoulder.
Tom thought he knew what Sharpe was trying to say. Sharpe rarely spoke of his feelings and Tom often wondered if Sharpe was even aware of them at times. He knew that he had just heard something that Sharpe would never confess if he were sober. But it warmed Tom's heart all the same. "I know Dick," he whispered as Sharpe dosed off to sleep. "I know what to call it."
Tom was nearly asleep himself when a footstep sounded beside him and a foot was placed on the edge of the bunk as someone prepared to heave himself up to the top. Lunging out Tom grabbed the intruder's knee and pulled him down. "What are you doing?" Tom demanded angrily and was surprised to see Bill Hanson's face peer in at him.
"Shh Tom. Yer'll wake the whole bloody barracks. It's me. I just thought I'd spend a bit of time with Josh." Tom blinked in confusion. "Why Bill? I thought yer told Josh that it was over because of Jean." Even in the dark Tom could see Hanson blush.
"Well I spent the whole day with him at the sea shore, watching him running about, smiling at me, splashing in the water with my children. I just want to hold him one last time, that's all," Hanson whispered softly in the dark and Tom could hear the longing in his voice.
"This isn't a good idea Bill. You know what the barracks are like. If any one sees yer it will get around for sure. Do you want Jean to hear about it?" Tom paused and looked up towards where Josh Smith was laying, wondering if the lad was awake or asleep. "Besides do you think it would be very fair to Josh, having you creep back into his bed when you've already told him that you won't. You'll get his hopes up and then break his heart again. Think about it Bill." Hanson looked away and Tom knew the older man could see the sense in what he had just said.
Nodding Hanson patted Tom's shoulder. "You're a good mate Tom and you're right. Thanks for watching out for Josh. I know he's safe with you around." He stood quietly and walked back to his bed.
At least Sharpe was not the only one who was the worse for wear thought Tom the following morning as he pulled Sharpe out of their bunk and helped him into his uniform again. "Shit I feel sick Tom." He muttered as Tom pulled his boots on. "Come on Dick you wouldn't want to be put on report now would you," Tom coaxed. Tom wondered how much if any Sharpe would remember from their talk the night before. Very little, Tom decided as he looked Sharpe over taking in the bloodshot eyes and pallid complexion.
"My head aches," moaned Sharpe as Tom brushed his hair and pulled it back into a queue again. At least Sharpe's uniform was all in one piece and his kit seemed to be all there. It was usual for kits to be inspected by the Sergeants in the barracks before parade and it didn't take long before the men realised that Sergeant Walker was not present. When the bugle blew for parade they filed out pleased that they were spared the kit inspection, but curious about their missing Sergeant. It was Captain Hughes who addressed the men this morning. As the most senior Captain in the Regiment it was his place to perform inspections in the place of Major Shee. This morning however it was clear that uniform inspection was the last thing on their Captain's mind.
"It is my unpleasant task to inform you all that Sergeant Festus Walker left the barracks without leave last night and went into to town. He went to the home his wife and her lover and stabbed them both to death. He then tried to cut his own throat. When he was found he was still alive and is now being held in the Southampton Hospital awaiting trial. Should he live, he will surely be hanged." Hughes waited for the murmurs in the ranks to die down. While not a popular man, Walker had been liked in his own way. He seldom was hard on the men and they in turn gave him little trouble.
"I have chosen a new Sergeant for the Light Company and he will assume duties straight away. Bill Hanson come forward and get your Sergeants stripes."
Tom smiled. Hanson would make a fine Sergeant.
"Now, before we commence the uniform inspection I also need to inform you that it is the Colonels orders that all men will bathe at least once a week in an effort to stop lice and the spread of disease. Clothes will also be washed at least once a month."
There was more murmuring and moaning from the ranks, particularly from Dick Sharpe where he stood beside Garrard. "Bloody Baths! Captain Hughes will be pleased at that one." Sharpe screwed up his face and for a moment Tom wondered if it was from the new orders or Sharpe's headache. "Hughes is always trying to give me a bloody bath! I tell yer it's unnatural Tom!" Tom just smiled. Sharpe was right. In Flanders, Hughes had often sent him back to their billet freshly washed and smelling of soap. Tom had secretly enjoyed the scent and feel of Sharpe's clean hair and skin, but knew that this only highlighted his own unwashed state.
With uniform inspection completed the Sergeants proceeded to inform the men of the duty roster for the next week. Sharpe groaned again as he heard his name called for mess duty that morning. "Shit, that's all I need. Great bubbling pots of greasy mutton! Bloody Hell!"
Tom had little time for sympathy for either Sharpe or Peters who kept running from the kitchens to be sick. He had seen all too much of this sort of behaviour before. During the time when the 33rd had been posted in Cork, Tom had learnt of the dangers that confronted Infantrymen when they had too much time on their hands. Men who were considered both brave and trustworthy in the face of the enemy could so easily slide into vice when left with little to do. Boredom was a soldier's greatest threat during peacetime. This would be something new to Sharpe who had probably never known an idle moment in his short life. How would the young man fill in his days when not on duty? Tom had a worried feeling that Sharpe would be known as a regular customer at the Scarlet Rose before their time in Southampton ended.
Disclaimer as previous. M/M stuff again <G> Don't say you weren't warned!
Changes Part 7
The drudgery of mess duty and the boredom of guard duty was broken that week when Tom, Dick and several others were ordered to help unload stores for the quartermaster. It was heavy work, but as Sharpe pointed out, it offered unlimited possibilities for someone with a quick hand. With the help of Percy Peters and Josh Smith who concealed some of the items in their uniforms, Sharpe soon had a veritable store of his own containing, needles, thread, buttons, blackening, chalk, bandages, paper, some course linen, several pairs of socks, soap and shaving brushes.
"I'm going to make a tidy sum from that lot." said Sharpe as he sat on their bunk in the barracks after hiding his loot in a small hole behind a broken board in the wall.
"You're going to get caught Dick. Caught and flogged," complained Tom shaking his head.
"Oh Tom, anyone would think you were a bloody Methodist the way yer go on. First it's drinking, then visiting whores and now it's stealing. Yer just don't know how to have a bit of fun."
Tom frowned. He had never really considered himself to have any stronger morals than the next man. But perhaps Dick was right. Tom knew that stealing was wrong. It was something he had never done and something that Sharpe seemed all too familiar with. But Sharpe's hand slipped up his thigh suddenly causing Tom to stifle a gasp.
"Of course I could show yer how to have a bit of fun Tom. I cold lead yer astray if yer'd like?" Sharpe purred and gave Garrard a lazy wink.
"Bloody hell, Dick!" replied Tom pulling Sharpe's hand away "I already know that. At least wait until dark."
When their next full day of leave came around, Sharpe, Peters, Rawlings and many of the others were once again looking forward to their visit to The Scarlet Rose.
"Why don't you come walking with me Dick. The town has lots of shops and the country side is lovely at this time of year." Tom asked Sharpe quietly so that the others wouldn't hear. He knew that he wasn't above the good natured teasing that had already been directed at Josh Smith when the lad had said he would rather go to the beach again.
"Maybe another time Tom, I've been looking forward to this all week." Tom nodded and watched as Sharpe joined the others.
"Tom, Tom, what are you doing today." Josh Smith's small voice called out from across the parade ground.
"What are you doing here Josh, I thought you were off with Bill and his family again."
Smith looked down sadly, "No, Jean didn't look too pleased when I asked if I could go too, so Bill said no. He said they wanted to be on their own today." Smith wiped his eyes with his sleeve and Tom sighed. A lad of almost 18 shouldn't be crying still. When was Josh Smith going to grow up?
"Well you can come with me Josh. I was just going into town to look around and maybe take a walk." Tom hesitated and then smiled "That is unless you'd rather go to that brothel? We can catch up with the others if we're fast." Smith looked up with a shocked expression on his face "Oh NO!" he said quickly before he saw Toms teasing smile and smiled in return. "A walks fine with me Tom"
The town did indeed hold some interesting little shops and Tom and Josh spent and hour simply gazing in the windows at the wonderful things on display. Josh found a bookshop and almost jumped up and down in his excitement. "I wont be long Tom, just a quick look," he said as he disappeared inside.
Tom smiled and looked around the street. It had seemed familiar to him and now he realised he was just a few doors down from the bakery where he had met Mary Chisolm.
"Why hello Mr Garrard, how nice to see you again." Mary Chisolm stood behind the counter, her brown hair tucked up into a crisp white mop cap, and her dress all but hidden by a large white pinifore. "What would you like today?" she asked with a smile and it was on the tip of Tom's tongue to reply 'to go walking with you' but caution told him to start with small talk.
Mary was easy to talk to. Somehow their conversation came around to farms again, a subject with which Mary seemed very familiar.
"I spend a great deal of time on my Uncles farm. My mother died when I was quite small and my Aunt Bertha raised me on the farm. I've moved back here now to help father, but I still visit my Aunt and Uncle regularly."
Tom leaned on the counter, now or never he told himself. "Perhaps next time I have a day without duties, you'd like to take a walk out there with me. You could tell me all about the place."
A faint blush lit Mary's cheeks "Why, I'd like that Tom Garrard. I really would."
After the arrangements were made, Tom suddenly became aware of how long he had been talking and bid his goodbyes. Josh Smith would be looking everywhere for him. There was no sign of the younger man outside and Tom began to worry. But as he walked from shop to shop, looking in the windows, he spied Smith coming out of a confectionery store.
"Look Tom, sweets! I haven't had any for so long. I've bought a whole bag! Would you like one." Smith was smiling up at him, already sucking on one of the boiled sweets and Tom couldn't help but think how much young Smith still looked. "Thanks Josh" he replied looking in the bag. There were so many to choose from, all different in colour and Tom imagined flavour. "I'll give some to Bill's children when we get back. I think they'll like them."
The children did like the sweets, but Jean Hanson didn't. That evening before mess Josh had found the children playing on the dusty parade ground and given each of them a sweet.
"Oh no Josh!" said Jean as she came hurrying over from where she had been talking with Hannah Avery. "The baby's too small to eat those, she'll choke," Jean scooped the sticky mess out of Polly's mouth who immediately began wailing. "George you can't have one either. Look at that mess! Spit it out! Really Josh, you shouldn't give them things unless you ask me first."
Both children were crying as Jean lead them away to the washrooms to clean them, leaving Smith looking downcast.
"I didn't know it was wrong Tom," Smith said sadly.
"I know yer didn't, it wasn't your fault." Replied Tom patting Smith on the shoulder.
"Cheer up Josh, let me have a look at those," Said Dick Sharpe and he poked around in the now sticky bag with one finger.
Sharpe had returned from the brothel earlier this time and was relatively sober.
"Here, see this black one? After dinner while we are still in the mess hall, give it to Percy, but don't let the others see yer. Tell him there's not enough for everyone or something. I'll show yer a real good trick." Said Sharpe with a wink of his eyes.
After dinner Smith did as he was asked and Percy Peters happily sucked away at the boiled sweet, oblivious to Sharpe's wink at Tom and Josh.
It was some time later while the men were finishing off their ration of rum that Sharpe finally made his move.
"Percy stick out yer tongue for Gods sake!" Peters poked out his tongue, now a ghastly shade of black as the rest of the lads stared at him.
"Bloody Hell Percy! Yer tongue's all black! Yer've caught it!" said Sharpe, his eyes wide in horror.
"What? I've caught what?" said Peters trying to hold up his metal plate to see his tongue in the reflection.
"It's the pox! Yer've got it on yer tongue. What have yer been doing Percy." Sharpe was on his feet now and tilting Peter's head back to get a better look. The other men around the table were slowing waking up to the joke and had begun winking at one another.
Percy pulled his head away from Sharpe, his eyes wide with fear. "This is your fault Dick! You're the one who told me. I only did it cause yer said women liked it." He blurted out and there were spiels of laughter from around the table.
"Yeah, but yer don't do it if they've got the pox, Percy." Sharpe replied as if this was something every young man should know.
Do what, Tom wondered, looking around at the others, a thousands possibilities running through his mind, most of them making him blush. Perhaps he had better ask Sharpe later.
"So should we take him to the surgeon Dick?" asked Harry Whyte, getting into the charade. Toby Dodds was laughing so hard that he fell off the bench. But Josh Smith and Sam Rawlings were sitting quietly looking almost as worried as Peters.
"Not the Surgeon, we can't take him there. Do you know what they'll do to him to cure it?" said Sharpe wickedly. "Mercury?" asked Whyte, wondering what else Sharpe had in mind.
"No they won't waste it on a tongue. They just cut them off and be done with it. Why, I've seen many a poor lad, begging on the streets, babbling away with no tongue in his mouth because he caught the pox. But I know a cure that the surgeons don't even know of and it works every time. Learnt it from one of the best whores in London." Sharpe had the attention of everyone now as he pulled Percy Peters to his feet. "Follow me." Sharpe said with a grin.
The small group of Infantrymen walked quickly to the barracks only stopping when Sharpe ordered someone to get a bucket of water.
"Yer lucky Percy. I have a bit of extra soap here otherwise it would be the surgeon for sure."
"Soap? You mean all I have to do is wash my tongue?" Peters asked with relief.
"Not quite," Sharpe replied "You have to eat it, all of it. It has to wash the disease right out of yer body, Percy, otherwise who knows what it will strike next." Sharpe handed Peters a large piece of soap "And make sure yer drink plenty of water while yer do it."
Everyone held their breath as Peters gingerly took a small bite of the soap then another. He quickly gulped a mouthful of water. "It's not too bad," he declared as several small bubbles escaped from his mouth.
It suddenly occurred to Tom that Peters was very likely going to make himself sick if he ate all the soap that Sharpe had arranged on the bunk. "That's it Percy, keep eating, the black is fading already isn't it lads." There was a chorus of affirmations and Peters smiled a foamy smile and happily munched away. Quite a good joke all the same, thought Tom, as he tried to stop laughing.
Much later as they lay in each other's arms listening to Peters vomit for the third time, Tom was not so sure. Sharpe was laughing again but whether it was from Peter's discomfit or the fact that it had interrupted them again, Tom could not tell.
"So just what did you tell Percy to do with his tongue Dick? That kissing thing?" asked Tom as he nestled Sharpe against him again.
"Christ Tom, yer don't know much about women do yer! Maybe I'd better give you a demonstration. Of course yer not a woman, but just pretend that yer are and yer'll see what I mean." Sharpe raised his head and Tom frowned at him.
"Shit Tom, don't look so worried, yer liked it last time." And with that Sharpe disappeared under the blankets.
Oh! That! Thought Tom as Sharpe's mouth and lips closed around him and his tongue went to work. Somewhere in the back of Tom's mind he tried to work out how you would do this to a women given that women didn't have erections, but as his mind wasn't really working too well at that moment he decided it would be best to work it out later.
"So are you going to try that?" Asked Sharpe later as he stared down at Tom who lay panting.
"Me? With you?" Tom didn't mean to sound so horrified, it just came out that way. "Err, can I think about it Dick? Shouldn't yer wash it first or something? I mean after what yer've been doing all day." Tom winced at the way his words sounded but rather than being offended Sharpe just smiled and kissed him.
"Don't worry about it Tom. Maybe another time, now go to sleep now."
This is the last part of the first chapter of Between Wars. The second chapter, Sharpe's Verdict, should appear in a revised version on Jen's page in a week or so. If anyone can't wait that long they can email me for it. The third Chapter, Deceptions, might not be ready until after Christmas.
Jenny Jones
Changes Part 8
Southampton: July 1795
Fighting the French in Flanders seemed a long time ago as the men of the 33rd enjoyed the warm days of summer. They had all found their own routines now. The Duty Rosters were worked out well in advance so the men who had found work could let their employers know. Some had found friends or lovers in Southampton, others favourite places to go on their days off. For Sharpe and his friends it was the Scarlet Rose, for Bill Hanson and several of the other married men it was one of the numerous beaches on the coast or estuary. Josh Smith either accompanied Hanson if he was allowed or wandered around the town looking in bookshops.
Tom Garrard's days off were spent with Mary Chisolm and each week they usually found the time to go walking together. Mary's father was happy with the arrangement. He trusted Tom, but nevertheless had pointed out that Mary had two older brothers who were very protective.
"What are you writing Tom?" asked Sharpe as they sat in the mess hall one afternoon. "I'm telling my mother about Mary Chisolm. Mothers like to hear about that sort of thing," replied Tom with a faint blush. Sharpe laughed a little "Well it must be serious if yer telling yer Mother about her!" said Sharpe with a snort and he looked away over to where Josh Smith was writing a letter for Percy Peters in beautiful copperplate handwriting.
"No I'm not serious about her. I tell my mother things about you too." Said Tom feeling a little angry.
Sharpe looked back and studied the paper. "You do? Where? What did yer say and where is it?" asked Sharpe suddenly excited.
Just like a child, thought Tom "Here," he said pointing to the untidy writing "I said yer came from London, from a foundling home." Tom paused, "I was going to tell her yer age. How old are yer now Dick?"
Sharpe scratched his head "Well if its July now then I guess I'm 18." he replied.
Tom smiled warmly. "Really? When is yer birthday, which day?" But Sharpe simply shrugged "Don't know the day, just that it's July. Doesn't make much difference really. Nobody ever gave me a present or anything." He bent over and studied the words on the paper again. How sad, not to even have a proper birthday, Tom thought and vowed then to find a small gift for Dick next time he went to town.
"Here, this is wrong! This bits not right!" Sharpe was pointing to his name on Tom's letter. "I can read my own name and that's wrong."
Tom examined his writing. "It says 'Dick Sharp'. D I C K S H A R P" he said spelling it out.
"Well that's not how Captain Hughes writes it. The first word is all wrong and there's a bit more on the end of Sharpe." Said Dick. Tom bit his lip, suddenly worried. He knew his writing was poor, but surely it wasn't that bad.
"Does he write it like this Dick?" asked Josh Smith and he quickly wrote 'Richard Sharpe' on the very edge of Tom's paper.
"Yes that's it. The first word is bigger and there's that little curly one on the end of Sharpe." Tom frowned at the words that Smith had written, feeling embarrassed.
"Sometimes you put an 'e' on the end of Sharp if it's a name." Josh explained seeing Tom's worried look.
Tom looked at the words "'Richard'? He writes your name as 'Richard', not 'Dick'? Why?"
Sharpe smiled "Captain Hughes says that's how it's written on my papers. He's been trying to teach me to write it but there are just too many letters."
"Well you should just write 'Dick'. That would be quicker," said Tom smiling back.
"Here Dick, I don't understand. If yer names Richard why don't yer use it?" asked Percy Peters pushing some stray red hair out of his eyes as he too peered at the letter and tried to make sense of the squiggles.
Sharpe sat back on the bench and stretched, clearly bored with all the talk of reading and writing. "I don't know, I guess I just like Dick!"
It was Smith who started giggling first. He tried to hide behind his hand but a deep red blush crept up his face and his shoulders started shaking. Peters joined in next, glad to see Sharpe on the other end of a joke for once. "Oh we all know that Dick," he said nudging Sharpe in the ribs. Tom tried to keep a straight face and not laugh at his friend, but seeing Sharpe's face start to blush, he leaned over and whispered quietly, "And I'm bloody glad yer do, too." and then burst into laughter.
It was not until Tom went looking for a gift for Sharpe that he realised that he had no idea what to get his friend. Sharpe would certainly like a bottle of rum or something similar but that wasn't the sort of present that Tom wanted to give. Something that he can keep, Tom thought, something special. But the problem of choosing the right gift soon diminished as it became apparent to Tom that his small collection of coins would not be enough.
Tom wandered away from the streets filled with shops and into the part of town where the outdoor markets were situated. It was a busy noisy place, with barrows and stalls holding goods and produce of all descriptions, the vendors all calling out to the passers by in loud voices.
Counting his coins a second time, Tom considered his options. His eyes settled on one of the numerous second hand dealers in the market, his barrow heaped with paraphernalia of all sorts. Tom doubted Dick would be bothered if the gift wasn't new. After all, it was the thought that counted.
Among the chaos of items were several knives. Tom smiled thinking that a knife would be the perfect gift. The blades were good, if a little dull, but when Tom asked the prices he found he was still short.
"I'm sorry, I don't have that much," he said trying not to sound too disappointed.
"Well there is this one," said the vendor, digging around and uncovering another knife. "The blade needs work, and the handle needs new leather." He held up the knife to Tom who stared in amazement, for etched into the steel of the blade was the faintest picture of a tiger. "Don't worry about that scratching, it didn't harm the blade." Explained the man, mistaking Tom's scrutiny for doubt. "This here knife was owned by a sailor and he travelled to India once. Saw that big cat when he was there and scratched it's picture into his knife. He's dead now and his widow sold his things. But don't let that worry you. He had it for many years and he died peacefully in his own bed with his grandchildren playing outside. There's no bad luck to go with it!"
Tom scratched his head not wanting to appear too eager. The leather on the handle could easily be rewound, he'd done that with numerous farm tools at home and it would be no problem sharpening the blade.
"I'll do yer a deal on it if yer like. Yer look like a decent sort of a fellow," began the vendor and Tom had to fight to hide his smile.
In the next few days, Tom secretly repaired the knife. He smiled as he worked knowing that this was something that his friend would treasure. When the gift was ready Tom wondered about when and how to give Sharpe his present. The two men were seldom alone except for when they were in their berth at night in the barracks, and that didn't seem like the right time.
So Tom carried the knife, wrapped in a fade piece of cloth under his jacket and waited for the right moment. It was late afternoon when they finished standing guard at the barracks gates and were making their way to the washrooms that Tom called Dick aside and over to a quiet area between the washroom and the mess hall.
Sharpe grinned. "So what's all this Tom? Fancy a bit, do yer? Can't yer wait till tonight?" Tom knew Sharpe was just teasing and he smiled back "Oh yes, I've got something for you right now. Close yer eyes."
Sharpe closed his eyes slowly, suddenly unsure of what Tom was about to do. "Now hold out yer hands," Tom said and he laid the parcel into Sharpe's hands.
"What's this?" Sharpe asked staring at the blue cloth. "It's yours Dick, Happy Birthday."
With shaking hands, Dick unwrapped the cloth and gazed at the knife. "Tom!" was all he could utter as he first turned it over and then carefully traced the tiger with his finger. Sharpe stood there for the longest time, unable to look up, unable to speak but finally he raised his eyes that glistened like emeralds and whispered "Thank you Tom" before carefully wrapping the knife up again.
For a moment Tom was worried, afraid that Sharpe didn't like his gift, but Dick tucked the knife into his belt and smiled at Tom. "I'll carry it always Tom, always."
It was Tom's turn to be lost for words and he settled for nodding and smiling. "Come on, lets go wash, I'm hot and sweaty after standing in the sun." Sharpe grinned and winked at him "You just want to see me with my clothes off!"
At dinner that evening Tom was surprised when Dick produced the knife and showed the others, happily adding that it was his birthday present. Tom blushed but was pleased to see Sharpe so happy.
Later when they lay in their bunk together, Sharpe moved close and whispered into Tom's ear "So can I thank you properly now Tom?" his warm breath made the hairs on Tom's neck stand on end. Tom felt Sharpe's hands slide onto his skin, caressing and teasing.
"No Dick, I've still got one more surprise for you." Said Tom and he flipped Sharpe over onto his back. "Just lay still and don't scream," Tom said with a grin before he dived under the blankets and went to work.
The End