The Late Captain
By
Peter Glassborow
When Maureen Bowlington`s mother died, the year after the World War Two ended, there were few people at the funeral. That was because Maureen and her mother had few friends and there were no close relatives. So, excluding the funeral director and pall bearers, there were only six others at the funeral with Maureen,
Afterwards, at home alone, Maureen cried well in to the night. She cried as much for her own loneliness as the loss of her mother. Two days later she took her mother’s solicitor’s advice to go for a bit of a holiday. Her employer was sympathetic and let her take her annual holidays early.
She went to a small resort on the English east coast where she and her parents had taken their annual holidays before the war. Maureen took a room in same small hotel where they had always stayed. She wandered around the town for the first few days, too shy to strike up casual conversations, and too plain to attract the attention of the single men.
‘Plain Maureen you are,’ her mother had bluntly told her, ‘and that’s the way it is. You won’t attract men easily. So get used to it my girl.’ The message, often repeated, sank in to young Maureen’s mind. Now in her late twenties she was plain and shy, hence few friends, and certainly no single male ones. Even the influx of American servicemen at the nearby air force base had done little for Maureen’s romantic life.
Lonely and mourning for her mother Maureen was about to cut her holiday short when a chance encounter on the stairs with her landlady altered her plans. Maureen found Mrs. Smith struggling with a hamper of bed linen. Maureen offered a hand and together they hauled it down to the laundry room. Afterwards Mrs. Smith took her in to the small office for a cup of tea and made an offer. ‘Maureen, it’s soon summer and the height of the season, even if we are still recovering from the war. I’m short handed. You always were a willing helper when you came here as a girl, and you still are. You’re mourning your mother and wandering around town like a lost soul. I think you need to keep occupied. I’ll give free board and lodging, plus a few bob under the table, if you work for me for the rest of your stay.’
Maureen only needed seconds to think about the offer. Back at home would be an empty house and a factory job that was as deadly dull as it was noisy. At least for a little while in the hotel she would be kept busy and have lots going on so that she would have little time to think about her mother. With all that in mind Maureen willingly became a general helper to Mrs. Smith.
Waiting on tables, changing beds, running errands, cleaning, preparing vegetables and anything and everything else were her tasks. Her shyness meant little as people now spoke to her even if it was to only ask if the vegetables were fresh, or could they get more towels, and she had to reply.
By the time her stay was up she had been made the offer of a permanent position by Mrs. Smith. She thought of the friendless existence and boring job waiting for her on her return and accepted. Returning to her home she gave her notice at the factory, paid the rent up, sold off most of the furniture and generally tided up her life. After a removal company had taken away two tea chests of belongings to be delivered later to the hotel, Maureen and two large suitcases took the next train back to the coast.
Settled in her own attic room Maureen set to working hard and willingly for Mrs Smith. As Maureen had no social life she could always be relied on to say yes at short notice to work late, or swap shifts with one of the other girls Mrs. Smith employed.
The summer flew by as did autumn. With winter the casual staff left leaving Mrs. Smith, Maureen and a cook to look after the few permanent residents, the odd commercial traveller and the occasional couples after an intimate few days together.
Maureen’s off duty pastimes were solitary sessions at the cinema or long walks by the sea or up on to the cliff tops. It was on one of the latter that she met the Captain.
They both found themselves descending the cliff path together, and passed the usual polite remarks about the weather and the view. A week later they accidentally met again the same way. At the bottom of the path the Captain said that he would go for a small whisky at his local pub to warm up, and would she join him? Maureen had hardly ever set foot in a pub before, but she said, ‘Yes please,’ without thinking.
Inside the pub, and asked by the Captain what she would have to drink, she stared a little frightened at the rows of bottles behind the bar. She remembered what her mother had drunk occasionally, and allowed Maureen to have a glass of as well once she had turned twenty-one. ‘A sweet sherry please,’ she told the Captain.
He was James Talbert. In his early forties, but very neat and trim which made him look younger, he was semi-retired with a passion for book collecting. This was not only his hobby but by also buying and selling them he supplemented his main income from some investments. He lived in a small, comfortable house nearby with a view of the sea. He walked with a slight limp as the result of a motor vehicle accident before the war. ‘Caused me to be discharged before I could get to major I’m afraid,’ he told Maureen. ‘Got back in the army when Hitler went silly. Had to go in to Intelligence, but I was of some use.’ He tapped the walking stick he used. ‘Having this stick gave everyone the idea that I was wounded. Comes in useful for creating the right impression.’ Then he laughed cheerfully and Maureen was quite smitten by him, even more so when he insisted in walking her back to the hotel’s staff entrance, where he asked to meet her again. After she said yes he wished her a polite good evening and touched his hat.
The next day they met again on the cliff, and three more times during the following week. After that the weather was bad for several days so they sat in either “their” pub or one of the tea houses still open.
The week after that he invited her to his house. The house was as she had expected, comfortable with a brisk masculine choice in curtains, wallpaper and furnishings. While he toasted crumpets on a fork at the fire she wandered around the lounge looking at his photos and mementoes. There were two photos of him, his parents and two older women. ‘Sisters,’ he commented when she shyly asked. ‘One dead now, the other married and living in Southampton. I see her when I can.’
When they left in the evening to walk back to her hotel she was telling herself not to feel foolish thoughts about this man. She was Maureen Bowlington, plain Maureen and nothing else.
By the spring and the hiring of casual summer staff Maureen and the Captain-as she liked to think of him-were firm friends meeting whenever Maureen was free. They talked and walked and took tea together. They went for a small whisky and sweet sherry in “their” pub and were now well known around town. She found he had a few good friends of a variety of ages, and they were all friendly and easy to talk to. She learnt something of his collecting of books, and told him of her quiet and lonely life with her mother.
‘You should not be alone, Maureen,’ he said. ‘You’re a good and kind hearted soul, and pleasant company.’ Before she could reply he added, ‘And a handsome woman as well.’ She blushed deeply, he chuckled quietly, and Maureen was very happy.
By late summer they had progressed to her taking his arm as they walked and he giving her gentle goodnight kisses on her cheek outside the hotel’s staff entrance. Mrs. Smith knew that Maureen needed somebody to talk to about the Captain, and as Maureen had no mother or close friends, Mrs. Smith frequently managed to steer the conversation around to the Captain. Hearing Maureen talk about him she formed the firm opinion that Maureen and the Captain were made for each other. There was a bit of a difference in ages but Maureen was quiet and the Captain youthful in his outlook, so Mrs. Smith could not see it as a problem. She insisted that Maureen invite the Captain around for Sunday tea one day, and eventually the three of them sat happily munching cake and sipping tea.
Afterwards when the Captain had left Mrs. Smith told Maureen in her firmest manner. ‘He is for you, my dear.’ She raised a hand to wave away Maureen’s mild protest. ‘Nonsense, Maureen. He obviously cares for you. Take it from someone who knows a bit about men.’ And here she tapped the side of her nose. ‘He cares for you and obviously you care for him.’ She smiled as Maureen started to stammer something. ‘No protests, my dear. It’s a fact, so don’t fight it.’
The next week, while at the Captain’s house, he told Maureen that he would have to go away for several weeks. ‘I have established a contact in New York for the sale of some books, and he wishes me to visit him and establish a permanent trading relationship. There’s a big market over there for the right sort of second hand books. It’s quite a big jump for me and I’ll be able to work at the book business nearly full time, so I should make quite a bit. Now while I’m away I wonder if you would do me a favour.’
Maureen said of course she would, what was it? He explained that he wanted her to keep an eye on the house, collect the mail and so forth. Maureen said she would be happy to. He then added. ‘I wonder also Maureen if you would take the time to decide what you would like to change about it.’
‘Change?’
‘Yes, well, I’ve thought for awhile that it’s all very masculine and so on. I’ve already taken some of the old stuff and put it in the spare room. I’ll sell it off later. But I’d like a more feminine influence about the place.’ He leaned towards her. ‘Your influence to be precise.’ He reached out and took her hand. ‘And when I return Maureen I would like us to talk about you and me. I want you to be around this house, and with me, a lot more than at present. In fact I want you to be a permanent presence, as Mrs. Talbert.’ He raised a hand before she could talk, or more likely stutter an answer she was so taken aback. ‘No, no more now. I want you to think about us while I’m gone, and what you want.’ He smiled widely. ‘I’m a firm believer in that old saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder.’
On the day of the Captain’s departure Mrs. Smith insisted that Maureen take the morning off to say goodbye properly at the station. As the guard waved his flag and the train hooted the Captain leaned out of the window, pulled Maureen close to him and for the first kissed her fully on the lips. For a few seconds she felt she would literally melt in to the station platform. Then as the train pulled out both waved furiously until the train rounded the bend in the tracks and they lost sight of each other.
For the next few weeks Maureen was very happy. In the morning she worked at her various tasks at the hotel. After serving lunch she went to the Captain’s house for her break and wandered through the rooms trying to decide what she would change. And always she would tell herself. ‘`I’ll be living here soon. With him. Happy as Mrs. Talbert.’ She wrote to the Captain and said she was there at one-thirty every day making sure his house was safe and what ideas she had had.
The Captain was not a great writer in reply and she only received one letter which he sent on his arrival in the USA. In his neat handwriting it said he was missing her tremendously, and that he had to postpone some of his business as he had been feeling rather under the weather recently. ‘This has delayed things I’m afraid,’ he concluded, ‘so I might be a bit late returning. I also promised to see my sister in Southampton on the way back. I will try and get word to you through the hotel or something when I have a definite date. I think that in future, so we can stay in touch while I am away, we should get the phone on at home, don’t you?’
There was a postscript after the. ‘Affectionately yours, James.’ It also said, ‘P.S. Have been looking in some jewellers in New York. I hope you like what I have bought.’
The day of the Captain’s original return date Maureen turned up at the house just after one-thirty. She hoped he would be there as she had still received no message concerning an alternate return date. She anticipated him opening the door to her knock, then smiling that warm smile of his he would produce an engagement ring. She decided that the moment she saw him she would hug him tight and give him a long kiss to show her feelings for him.
She was surprised to see that there was a removal van parked on the street, with a large man in a dustcoat standing by the Captain’s front door. When he saw Maureen come through the gate the man gave her a brief smile. ‘Live here, love?’ he asked.
‘Er…no, not really.’ Maureen replied somewhat nervously. ‘It’s a friend’s, I’m looking after it.’
‘That’s why there’s nobody home then. I’ve been knocking for ages.’
Maureen rummaged in her handbag. ‘I have a key.’ She unlocked the door. The man stepped forwards as if to go inside. Maureen blocked his way. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’ve come to pick up the stuff,’ said the man.
‘Stuff? What stuff?’
‘The clear out.’
‘What do you mean?’ Maureen was confused.
The man spoke slowly as if to an idiot. ‘Got the message from head office yesterday. Come here and clear the place out.’
Maureen’s mind whirled. How could there be a clear out? The Captain would not get rid of everything would he? Not without talking to her. He wanted her views and opinion, her influence. He had said so, hadn’t he? ‘Who asked you to come?’ she demanded nervously.
‘Head office, I told you.’ The man was getting irritated. ‘I rang them last night to get the work for today, and the second job was this here.’ He pulled a wry face.
‘No... I mean who called your head office?’
The man scratched his head. ‘Southampton client I understand.’
‘A man?’ Maureen grasped at straws.
‘No, a woman, Mrs. somebody.’
‘His sister?’
‘What?’
‘The owner of this house, his sister rang?’
The man shrugged. ‘Don’t know, lady. Might have been.’ The man seemed to be holding something back. He cleared his throat. ‘Good friend of yours is he, the owner I mean? Or are you like the housekeeper?’
Maureen was confused now. She stumbled a reply. ‘Yes... I am... I’m looking after the place for him.’
The man’s face suddenly looked slightly sheepish, which gave an odd appearance on top of such a big frame. The man cleared his throat. ‘You haven’t heard from him for awhile though, have you?’
‘No, why?’
The man shuffled his feet a little before looking up and saying, ‘Bad news I’m afraid, love. Seems he’s died. The lady what rang and booked us said to pass on a message to the person who’s looking after the place. Suppose that’s you. Said she had lost your number where you were staying. Said the owner had passed away, and she would be in touch later with details.’
Maureen felt as if she was going to be sick. Her legs trembled and she had to lean against the wall.
The man carefully touched Maureen lightly on the arm. ‘You all right, miss?’
‘Go away.’ Maureen whispered.
‘What?’
Maureen lost control then. ‘Go away!’ she shrieked as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. The large man backed down the steps as Maureen sobbed hopelessly in the doorway.
As the van pulled away Maureen slammed the door and stumbled through the house, eventually ending up in the kitchen. All her world seemed destroyed now. After the death of her mother and her friendless existence, with the exception of Mrs. Smith, she had been lonely beyond all belief. Then the Captain had come along, and things had not only improved they had soared with the prospect of a lifetime partnership with a wonderful man. The thought of the miserable future now ahead of her was too much.
Still sobbing Maureen went in to the sitting room and returned to the kitchen with two cushions. She opened the oven door. One cushion she placed on the floor and knelt on. The other she placed on the bottom of the oven. She reached up and turned on the gas jets, then leaned forward and placed her head on the cushion. Closing her eyes she began to breathe deeply as the gas hissed out in to the oven. She had heard that would only take ten minutes, and would not be too unpleasant.
A mile away the large man was squeezed in to a phone box. He was talking on the phone to head office. He had already given the girl in the office the Captain’s address and she was looking up the file.
Finding what she needed the girl came back to the phone. ‘I spoke to you late yesterday afternoon didn’t I?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’d been drinking then.’ The girl said accusingly.
‘No, not me.’
‘Liar! I know you, Billy, you always have a drink or two at the end of the day, and don’t you deny it.’
‘Well so what?’
‘Bet you got the message mixed up again.’
‘No,’ denied Billy. ‘Got the right address. Go there at one-thirty when somebody will be there you said. Clear the place out. What’s wrong with that?’
The girl made tutting noises down the phone. ‘Not clear the place out, just the spare room. Why do you think you were sent on your own? Only the spare room, the owner is getting rid of some old stuff. The person who’ll be there at one-thirty can tell you which is the spare.’
‘Oh.’ What the girl in the office had said was now starting to sound too familiar to the large man. He did recall he had been told something like that when he had rung the previous afternoon from the pub.
‘Did you give the message, Billy?’ The girl was insistent now, determined to make sure he would get it right.
‘Message? Oh yes did that.’
‘About how the owner had rung from America to his sister in Southampton to get the stuff taken away, and it was the sister was passing on the instructions?’
‘Yeah did that.’ Billy screwed up his eyes in concentration. ‘Well sort of. Hang on, I thought the owner was dead?’
‘Oh for God’s sake, Billy, its hopeless giving you messages when you’ve been drinking. You never remember them.’
The large man tried to fight back. ‘Now hang on, you said he was dead. That it was definitely the late Captain Talbert whose place I was clearing out.’
‘No you stupid fool,’ the girl hissed down the line. ‘The sister said to tell the woman at the house that she was sorry but she had lost her number. And would we tell the woman at the house that Captain Talbert would definitely be late back from America, but he’d call her with details soon. Didn’t you get that?’
‘I thought you said he was the late Captain Talbert?’
‘Go and get it sorted, Billy,’ the girl hissed down the phone, ‘and for God’s sake give them the right message.’
Billy reasserted himself. ‘It’ll only be some neighbour or somebody at the house. Got a bit upset at the news. I’ll have something to eat first. I’m overdue. Get round there in another hour or so. When she’s calmed down. Its only one room to clear out, won’t take long. An hour won’t make any difference, will it?’
The End