Lucky (Pt. 02)

"And then there's a couple of meeting rooms for members' use," he said, coyly winking at Lucas as they walked down the corridor along the smart green carpet, past tasteful paintings of satyrs, nymphs and classical landscapes.

"And then this is our kitchen and dining room," he said, opening the door to a much plainer room, one side dominated by a large range and an open fire. On the other side of the room were two large, rough wooden benches.

"Oh hello, Mrs Tollhurst, I thought you'd finished," Tully said as they stepped inside and encountered a stout woman in her fifties, her greying hair tied in a tight bun. She was hunched over a chopping board, slicing vegetables with a practiced ease.

"No, the boys were late back from the market today," she said, without looking up. "Have you come to help out, young Tully?"

"No, I can come back later but I'm showing the new boy around, he's called Lucas," Tully explained helpfully.

"Well, now, Lucas is it?" she said, in a gruff but not unfriendly voice. "You look a little skinny but we'll soon get some meat on those bones."

"Cookie is famous for her pies and stews," Tully added with a grin.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Lucas replied politely.

"Nice manners too," Cookie shouted after them as they exited. "You could learn something from him, Tully."

"Cookie comes in every day to prepare the meals, although we usually help her out with the peeling and chopping and suchlike," Tully explained as they ascended the stairs once more. "She'll leave that casserole in the oven for maybe three hours, so's it'll be ready for this evening."

"Right," Lucas said, struggling to keep up with his new friend.

"And up 'ere's our dorm," he said, leading Lucas into a long, narrow room with several neatly made beds on either side, and dimly lit by a small window at the end. The walls were plain, the ceiling sloped on one side, and each bed had its own desk and small wardrobe. "The older boys have their own dorm up a level."

"This is your bed, you can put your possessions in here," he added, pointing to a desk next to the bed.

"And, at night, you can fold your clothes and put them down 'ere," he continued,

kneeling down and pulling out a slim wooden box from beneath the bed. "Sharky runs a tight ship 'ere. Although some of the boys have been in trouble in the past, your stuff will be safe."

"Oh, thanks," Lucas replied, briefly leaning down to rub his ankle. "Although I don't really have anything."

"Oh, I see," Tully said. "Well, anyway, that's the end of the tour, so why don't you rest that ankle of yours, and I'll come and collect you for dinner, alright?"

It was warm and quiet at the top of the house, and the bed was small but comfortable. He wasn't used to all the fresh air and walking, and soon Lucas fell asleep. When Tully woke him, it was starting to get dark outside.

--

The canteen was behind the kitchen, a large windowless space with wood panelling up to waist level, plain wooden floorboards, two large tables at its centre, and a large portrait of the Madam's stern face looking down at them as if to remind them who was providing their meals.

"So this is important," Tully explained as he led Lucas into the hall. "Sharky and the older boys sit at the table nearest the serving hatch; me, you and the other newer boys we're at the other one."

"Is this the new boy?" a young man said, pausing just before he sat down at the 'upper' table, and turning to assess Lucas with a cool stare. He was tall and muscular, with a shock of blonde hair brushed straight back from a high forehead and thin lips that gave him a mean look,

"This is Lucas," Tully explained. "Lucas, this is Sharky, our head boy."

"Well, Lucas, I hear the Doctor brought you in," he said, as he looked him up and down.

"She rescued me after I was beaten; thought I might be useful here," Lucas explained.

"You'll be useful if you don't mind hard work," he said.

Lucas wasn't sure what to say so he just nodded.

"Not a thief, are you? I won't have it here."

"No, I'm not a thief."

"Well, keep your nose clean and work hard and I'm sure we'll have no issues, eh?"

"Yes, thanks," Lucas said, before he and Tully took their seats at the 'lower' table.

It was clear that there was a hierarchy here, the boys at Lucas's table waiting patiently whilst the older boys served themselves from the large steaming bowl of stew and basket of chunky bread that Cookie laid out on the serving hatch. Those on Lucas's table only got up once the older boys were all seated.

"So," Tully said, when they'd gotten their food. "Let me introduce you, this is Fishbait, he's the son of a fisherman. This is Whitey," he added, pointing to a lad with a pale complexion.

"Shorty and Coops are working reception, they'll be up later," he added.

The boys nodded towards Lucas, in between spooning stew into their mouths.

"I see, so everyone has a nickname here then?"

"I s'pose we do, I guess that's in part due to what we do here. Not many who want to use their family name, see?"

Lucas nodded, although he still wasn't sure what exactly they did do.

"So what's your nickname?" the boy called Whitey asked.

"Well I don't have one."

"Well, I've been thinking about that," Tully said. "As I hears it, you were damn near beaten to death, but that lovely lady Doctor saved you, fixed you up free of charge then brought you 'ere, so I reckon we ought to call you Lucky. You're certainly the luckiest fellow I've met in a while."

Lucas smiled as he broke off a hunk of bread: "I reckon you're right: Lucky it is then."