Jock stood just enough to shake hands with the young woman, before sitting down again.

"My name's Dougal Tavish, Miss Silk, but you can call me Jock - everyone else does. I'm a former Sergeant-Major in the British Army, and I think I'm here largely to add some muscle, though I have other talents.

"What brings you to Mrs Taylor's party, and what do you bring to it?"

Once Miss Silk had made everyone's acquaintance, Dicksy pulled out his flask and put a bit of warm into his stomach.

"Are we staying here the night then, Georgy, before we return to London tomorrow? You know, I could probably put everything straight for our 'assignment' with a few telephone calls.

"When do we go across to Bocheland?"

Georgia returned from the office once she had made her telephone call. She was smiling slightly.

"If you wish to stay here in Romford for the night, you can do so, but it'll have to be at your own expense, sadly.

The plan is to spend Saturday i.e. tomorrow sorting out all the arrangements for our assignment. I will try to see if we can get a flight to Breslau, but I'm doubting it. We'll have Sunday to rest before we start for Germany on Monday, aiming to arrive in time for lunch on Tuesday."

She moved over to one of the armchairs and sat down, adjusting her earring slightly.

"The person I've just called is a Hannah Lansky. Jewess but not obviously so, if you know what I mean. Speaks fluent German, Yiddish and Polish - she is Polish in fact. Comes from a village near Lwow in Poland. [OOC: Now Lviv, Ukraine].

She's a nurse by training; has some experience treating war wounds in Manchuria... anyway, she's also rather experienced at skulduggery. Ever heard of something called... I'm probably mangling this... Haganna?"

At the mention of lunch in Germany, Dicksy's thoughts run to schnitzel und wurst, rouladen und sauerbraten. He wipes a bit of saliva from his lips.

"You know, I've dossed down worse places than this sofa," he says, thumping the cushion, "That armchair looks like it would do you for a kip, Andrei, old chap. And we've simply acres of carpet for yon wee Scotsman.

"You girls can nip round to your flat, Georgy, for a solid forty winks, eh what?"

He grins round at his companions.

Andrei nods at the mention of the armchair.

"That would do fine," he allows.  To Georgia, "Your friend is part of an underground army, yes?"

Jock kept his ears open and his mouth closed. He's slept in places a lot worse than an armchair, but it would depend what else was on offer, and he hadn't heard any offers yet.

"They call themselves a self defence force. Considering a load of smuggled weapons meant for them fell out of a barrel at a dock in Palestine recently, she's not exactly advertising the fact at present."

She considered the idea of accommodation.

"You'd have to sleep on the floor or the sofa at my place. I can't exactly kick my husband out of bed and he's not going to want to share with anyone else..."

She went slightly flustered.

"I'll bring some blankets over here. Might be a bit cold otherwise."

"I have slept in worse conditions," Andrei says.  "I trust none of my companions will smell as poorly as an elephant?"

In reply to Andrei the Amazing (msg # 119):

"Hah! With those long noses, you'd think elephants would smell terrific!" Dixon japes.

If Jock was preparing any japes about Georgia's husband sharing with Charlotte, he kept them to himself. He hadn't got a handle on Georgia's sense of humour yet. Or Charlotte's for that matter.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:30, Mon 19 Aug 2019.

"I once slept in a cave in Transjordan", Georgia said, "I suppose I'd better light the fire then. Don't want y'all to freeze to death, do I?"

She got up and walked over to the fireplace, where a bunch of coal was already in place. She looked around for some matches.

"Jock, can you find an old newspaper or something I can use for kindling?"

Jock stood and inspected the waste bins for discarded newspapers, or any other sort of paper.

A discarded copy of the Daily Express was folded up in the bin, along with some discarded envelopes that were torn into pieces.

Jock cast an eye across the various papers, largely as a matter of habit, in case anything stood out, before handing them over as kindling.

The papers were replete with reports on the upcoming general election, announced for 14 November; Stanley Baldwin's National Government was hoping for a renewed mandate from the electorate, with new Labour leader Clement Attlee the main rival against him. Unemployment was the main issue on the campaign trial.

The incumbent government was planning to raise the school leaving age from 14 to 15.

Once this had been passed over, Georgia started to put together a fire and lit the kindling, watching as the newsprint caught hold to help ignite the coal.

The room was starting to warm up a bit and it would provide a cosy heat inside during the night.
This message was last updated by the GM at 07:58, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

Jock eased himself back into the armchair. Pity about those teabags. Still he wouldn't be concerned about tea while he was asleep.

Andrei eyes Jock relaxing in the armchair, and debates simply dumping the larger man out of it.  Yet, Andrei considered himself civilized, and these were to be his companions in a dangerous venture.  He settled for simply glaring.

Jock noticed the smaller man glaring at him.
"Something wrong, Andrei?" he asked, genially.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:52, Fri 06 Sept 2019.

"The armchair was to be mine," he states.  "The Dixon's plan specified that."

"And what's wrong with the other one?" asked the genial giant.

OOC: Msg #100 above states 2 chairs and a settee are available. Perhaps the one Jock has chosen is closer to the fire? That might give Andrei a rationale for his ire. :)

Georgia looked at the pair of them.

"Sort it out among yourselves. I'll be back in about fifteen minutes with the blankets."

"That one is Miss Taylor's," Andre says, seeming to think that that explains everything.  Andrei is a man of few words, though, and usually doesn't explain context without being pushed.

OOC: Mostly just killing time in character until the GM's ready for things to move forward.

A look of surprise passed over Jock's face. "Since Miss Taylor has a bed and a husband to occupy this evening, I don't suppose she'll be using her armchair. I don't see any reason why you can't use it in her absence, my friend."

OOC: OK. :)

Andrei makes a sound a little like "Hmmph", and then goes to stand by the fire, examining the flames.

Jock shook his head behind the little man's back.
"Och, if it's so important to ye, you can sleep in this chair and I'll tak t'other. It's all the same to me."