Standing before the boys' room, Luke took a deep breath. They were probably asleep by now, he thought. He aimed to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb their rest. But when he opened the door and peeked inside, he saw several pairs of eyes staring back at him.
The boys, huddled together in the middle of the room, quickly scattered to their beds, whispering loudly enough for Luke to hear.
"We've been found out!"
Even though they were now tucked into their beds, they didn't pull the blankets over their faces. Instead, they peeked out, curious and alert.
At first, the boys thought Luke was Father Wingate. All they saw was a tall figure in the doorway, and the split second before they ran for their beds, they didn't get a clear look. But once they realised it was the guy Big Brother Gareth had brought earlier, they calmed down. The boys hadn't had a proper introduction to exchange names yet, but they recognized Luke as a friendly presence.
Luke's eyes scanned the room and noticed the evidence of their late-night activity: piles of books and the soft glow of candlelight in the middle of the floor. The boys had been up reading, defying the instruction to go to sleep. This wasn't the first time they'd done it either, judging by their well-practised scramble back to bed. They often stayed up late, reading and sharing stories, but they had never been caught—until now.
Closing the door behind him, Luke stepped further into the room. He couldn't help but smile at the boys' innocent mischief.
"You know, you should be asleep by now," he said softly, not wanting to sound too stern.
"We know, but the stories are too good to stop reading," One of the older boys, probably the ringleader, sat up slightly and grinned.
"What stories are you reading?" Luke chuckled.
"We're reading about knights and their adventures! Some of them are about Sir Carrick! These are new ones that we got!" The boy's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Sir Carrick, huh?" Luke said, genuinely interested. "I've met him. He's quite the knight."
The boys' faces lit up with admiration and awe.
"You've met Sir Carrick?" one of them asked in disbelief.
"Yes, I have," Luke replied, sitting down on an empty bed. "He's as brave and honourable as the stories say."
The boys' excitement was palpable, and Luke could see they had a deep respect for the knights of Purewood.
"Do you want to hear a story?" Luke asked, deciding to share a bit of his adventures.
They nodded eagerly, their eyes wide with anticipation. Luke began to weave a tale, blending elements of his journey with the legends they loved. He spoke of bravery, friendship, and the bond that formed between himself and Gareth. The boys listened intently, their earlier transgression forgotten as they were swept up in Luke's narrative.
As the story came to a close, Luke noticed their eyelids growing heavy.
"Alright, time to get some sleep," he said gently. "You need your rest for more adventures tomorrow."
The boys nodded, their curiosity and energy finally giving way to fatigue. As Luke stood to leave, one of the younger boys called out.
"Goodnight, Mister...um..."
"Luke," he supplied with a smile. "Goodnight, everyone."
"Goodnight, Big Brother Luke," the boys chorused, their voices drowsy but happy.
Luke thought about the journey ahead. He still had so many questions and uncertainties, but tonight, he felt a little more at home. With a contented sigh, he settled into bed, ready to face whatever tomorrow would bring.
Morning arrived with a chorus of whispers, gently pulling Luke from the depths of sleep. He could barely make out the words, his mind still foggy and his eyes sealed tight. His consciousness teetered between sleep and wakefulness, caught in a daydream-like state. Slowly, as he stirred and blinked his eyes open, he found himself face-to-face with a group of eager boys, their faces filled with anticipation.
The moment they realized Luke had woken up, they scattered back to their beds, a flurry of movement and whispered excuses. Stretching and sitting up, Luke greeted them with a smile. "Good morning," he said, pretending not to notice their earlier congregation around his bed.
"Good morning, Big Brother Luke," the boys chorused back, their voices tinged with mischief. They acted as if they hadn't been waiting and debating whether to wake him up or not.
A knock on the door interrupted the morning banter. Sister Maria entered her expression a mix of mild frustration and gentle authority.
"Why aren't you ready yet?" she scolded the boys, though her tone was far from harsh.
"We are ready!" they protested in unison, standing up to show off their new sets of clothes.
Luke noticed their hair was wet, a clear sign they'd already taken their morning showers. He realized he was the only one who had overslept.
Sister Maria, softening at their defence, apologized for her misunderstanding and directed the boys to head to the kitchen. One by one, they filed out of the room, leaving Luke alone with her.
"Good morning, Luke," Sister Maria greeted him with a smile. "Did the boys trouble you at all?"
"They've been excellent," Luke replied, returning her smile.
"I'll go to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. In the meantime, you can take a shower. The lavatory is down the hallway. I think Father Wingate had told everything already, right?" Sister Maria nodded, pleased with his response.
Luke nodded, appreciating her guidance. Then she handed him a set of clothes.
"These were Gareth's old clothes. Hopefully, they fit you."
"Thank you," Luke said, taking the clothes. Sister Maria left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Luke took a moment to appreciate the simple yet meaningful gesture of receiving Gareth's old clothes. It was another small but significant connection to the people who had welcomed him into their lives.
Gathering his things, Luke made his way down the hallway to the lavatory. The morning light streamed through the small windows, casting a warm glow on the stone walls. The sound of water and the faint hum of activity from the kitchen filled the air, creating a peaceful yet lively atmosphere.
As he entered the lavatory, he took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. His blonde hair stood out starkly against the backdrop of his new surroundings, a constant reminder of his different origins. He shrugged off the thoughts and turned on the water, letting it wash away the remnants of sleep.
After his shower, feeling refreshed, he changed into Gareth's old clothes. They fit surprisingly well, a bit loose but comfortable. He made his way to the kitchen, following the sound of laughter and the smell of cooking food.
The boys were already seated, chattering excitedly, their earlier mischief forgotten. Sister Maria was busy at the stove, preparing breakfast with practised ease. Father Wingate sat at the head of the table, smiling as he listened to the boys' animated stories.
"Good morning, Luke," Father Wingate greeted as Luke entered the kitchen. "I trust you slept well?"
"Very well, thank you," Luke replied, taking a seat.
As breakfast was served, Luke couldn't help but feel a growing sense of belonging. Despite the strangeness of his situation and the secrets he carried, he was beginning to find a place among these kind-hearted people.
Breakfast at the orphanage was a lively affair. As the boys settled into their seats, Sister Maria brought out large bowls of steaming porridge, complemented by a variety of side dishes that were unfamiliar to Luke.
The porridge was thick and creamy, dotted with chunks of something that resembled fruit but had a distinct, sweet-spicy flavour. Next to the bowls were plates of small, crispy pastries filled with a savoury mixture of vegetables and what looked like minced meat. What meat? Better not think about it.
As Luke took his first bite, he was pleasantly surprised by the flavours. The porridge was comforting and hearty, the perfect start to the day. The pastries added a delightful contrast with their crispy exterior and flavorful filling.
He couldn't help, as always, to compare it to the bland meals he had endured during his travels with Gareth. This breakfast was not only filling but also rich in flavours and spices that he had rarely experienced before.
Across the table, Luke spotted the girls from last night, their curious eyes now filled with morning cheerfulness. They giggled and whispered among themselves, occasionally glancing his way. He smiled back, remembering their endless questions from the previous evening. Their bright spirits added warmth to the room, making him feel more at ease.
As they ate, Luke's mind wandered to the daily lives of these children. He wondered what their everyday activities entailed. Did they have chores? Lessons? Playtime? The orphanage seemed to be a place of structure and care, but also one of love and community. He was curious to learn more about their routines and how they spent their days.
The meal began, as tradition dictated, with the song of gratitude. Although they didn't sing it again, the ritual was acknowledged in a moment of silent thanks. It was akin to a prayer, a brief pause to appreciate the food and the company. Luke respected the tradition, even if he didn't fully understand it, and joined in the silence with a quiet appreciation of his own.
Throughout breakfast, the conversation flowed easily. The children chatted about their plans for the day, the lessons they would attend, and the chores they were responsible for. Sister Maria and Father Wingate occasionally chimed in, offering guidance and encouragement. Luke listened intently, absorbing the sense of community and the routines that bound these children together.
As the meal came to an end, Luke felt a deeper connection to the orphanage and its inhabitants. He admired the way they all supported each other, creating a family out of circumstances that could have easily left them feeling alone. It was a testament to the strength of the human spirit and the kindness of those who cared for them.
With breakfast concluded, the children began to clear the table and prepare for their day. Luke helped where he could, still a newcomer but eager to contribute. As he worked alongside them, he felt a growing sense of belonging and purpose. This place, with its peculiar meals and heartfelt traditions, was slowly becoming a home away from home.