Jopson takes most of his work into the great cabin when he can, save for any official meetings and such the captain might hold. It's nice working under good light, for one, but also to sit quietly with the older man in the light of day. An acceptable way for a captain and steward to spend time, for one, but Thomas enjoys the intimacy of it. Much is the same for their reading at night, for the small rituals they have created over meals or in the short time before the Captain readies for sleep.
There's very little he dislikes at sea or about sailing life, but the murmurings of a ball and party on the ice give him pause. Not much for the revelry or noise of a party before his time on a ship, Jopson would much prefer spending the time reading in his berth or cleaning up while the men are away. Putting his head down and working at his own pace in the peace and quiet would bring him more joy than the revelry the men tend to enjoy.
But like any good steward and sailor he says nothing in protest, simply assists in the gathering of officers, cleaning up of dinner, moving the table, making all the preparations the captain has requested for such a time, and -
Ah. To be left alone among the officers is a betrayal in and of itself by the other stewards. Of course they would run off and appear busy, leaving the needs of their officers and captain alike in his hands. It's the dancing he doesn't entirely expect - when he's chosen to dance with Kay (to dance at all). But he takes to the task like it's an order, with all the focus and energy it takes to learn something new.
It doesn't help that Lieutenant Kay steps on his feet and otherwise bodies him around the room. He tries to make the man look better at it than he is, but even Jopson himself isn't a dancer. These aren't things one learns in the lower streets of London.
"I believe it might be left foot, first, sir?"
When they pause because Kay forgets his steps. He doesn't look pleased they have to keep going over it, but Jopson smiles all the same.
"Then you bring your feet together, then left again until you wish to turn-"
Kay does as Jopson says, which is technically correct, but Jopson stumbles when the Lieutenant takes his instruction with no warning.
no subject
There's very little he dislikes at sea or about sailing life, but the murmurings of a ball and party on the ice give him pause. Not much for the revelry or noise of a party before his time on a ship, Jopson would much prefer spending the time reading in his berth or cleaning up while the men are away. Putting his head down and working at his own pace in the peace and quiet would bring him more joy than the revelry the men tend to enjoy.
But like any good steward and sailor he says nothing in protest, simply assists in the gathering of officers, cleaning up of dinner, moving the table, making all the preparations the captain has requested for such a time, and -
Ah. To be left alone among the officers is a betrayal in and of itself by the other stewards. Of course they would run off and appear busy, leaving the needs of their officers and captain alike in his hands. It's the dancing he doesn't entirely expect - when he's chosen to dance with Kay (to dance at all). But he takes to the task like it's an order, with all the focus and energy it takes to learn something new.
It doesn't help that Lieutenant Kay steps on his feet and otherwise bodies him around the room. He tries to make the man look better at it than he is, but even Jopson himself isn't a dancer. These aren't things one learns in the lower streets of London.
"I believe it might be left foot, first, sir?"
When they pause because Kay forgets his steps. He doesn't look pleased they have to keep going over it, but Jopson smiles all the same.
"Then you bring your feet together, then left again until you wish to turn-"
Kay does as Jopson says, which is technically correct, but Jopson stumbles when the Lieutenant takes his instruction with no warning.