“I’m not surprised you don’t. Upstanding English patriots wouldn’t be caught dead singing an Irish drinking song. Barbaric.” He’s only somewhat facetious; it honestly wouldn’t surprise him if his fellow officers didn’t know any Irish songs, or if they did they saved them for more of their bawdy rounds of drinking.

“Wild Rover. That’s the name of the song. I don’t know why I’m humming it - I haven’t thought about it in years.”

His father would sing it after too much gin, and some of the lads when he was still a Midshipman would sneak a little too much rum and sing it loudly in the Orlop.

He shakes his head a little and inspects Raju’s hair for remaining soap. He combs his fingers through his hair, glancing back down into his face briefly and smiling once again. He’ll be sorry when he’s through here.