Angelique (17 page)

I am amazed to see Sandy the man of peace behaving violently I rush over to scene. Sandy is shaking with anger he stands over the fallen man as he cowers on the ground.

His voice filled with fuming emotion as he warns the man. “How dare you refer to the Colonel in such a scandalous manner, coward you called him? I’ll give you coward.”

I intercede. “Sandy! What’s up mate, what’s happening?”

He responds angrily. “This is the swine that called the Colonel a coward in his rag of a so called newspaper. I had enough of his slanderous accusations during the war and I am not having it in the peace time. How dare he refer to a man of the Colonels calibre as a coward?”

A murmur begins from the crowd of veterans, the situation is getting a little heated when a uniformed police Sergeant his chest bedecked with campaign medals and ribbons steps forward. He pulls the man to his feet. The reporter complains in a whining voice now he feels safe in the protection of the law.

“He hit me I want you to charge him with assault.” The Sergeant replies incredulously “Hit you when? I never saw that, as far as I could see you tripped and fell over.”

The reporter whinges angrily to the Policeman “They all saw him hit me. I want them all as witnesses.” Toot steps forward and unexpectedly says. “Yes Sergeant I saw it. I’ll bare witness.” There is a hiss of disapproval from the mourners. “What did you see Sir?” The Sergeant enquires in a menacing manner. Toot replies. “I saw this man.” He points to the reporter. “He tripped and this man.” He points towards Sandy. “He tried to save him falling. I think if he still had his two arms he might have saved him. It’s a pity he lost his arm serving his country in the non combatants as a stretcher bearer.” Toot turns to the crowd. “Do you know some newspapers branded them as coward’s lads? Well you were there, and most of you lads know through personal experience what we owe those lads?” The mourners join in their condemnation of the newspapers that branded the stretcher bearers and non combatants as cowards.

I in turn step forward verify Toot’s statement that the reporter tripped. Dave follows.

“That’s what I saw as well Sergeant.” Jake joins him with the same report of the occurrence. One after another the other mourners confirm Toot’s story. The reporter, with tears of frustration in his eyes gathers his gear together. He leaves in a hurry to the sound of boo’s and hisses and other ribald comments from the veterans.

After the funeral parade many of the mourners make their way back to the pub. Unfortunately Dave and Jake have to leave in time to catch a train. They left with a promise to keep in touch.

In the all too brief time I had to chat with them they filled me in on their lives since demob.

Dave had married his widow Lady the evidence of her cooking was easy to see as his waistline has now expanded considerably He informed us proudly they had a child of their own almost six months old. Their small holding is doing well and has grown by ten acres since I saw it last. He has also diversified into contract ploughing and harvesting, that side of his business was also doing well. He explained this was because of the shortage of farm labourers after the war farmers were employing contractors. Another reason being the farmers didn’t want to or couldn’t afford to invest in machinery that lay idle for months on end. His other good news is he rescued his Sister from the clutches of his drunken Mother the girl now lives with his family and they get on great together. He reveals proudly. “She is a striking looking wench now.

Molly looks after her and has taught her good manners and how to dress proper like. She attends the local school and has soon caught up with the other kids. I’ll have to watch out shortly there are already a few local lads got their eyes on her.”

Jake reveals he had wandered a bit after demob he couldn’t settle down but he now had a job at an airfield on the outskirts of London.

Jake is convinced like my friend Gunter Cogan, aeroplanes would be the mode of travel in the future. I listened to his enthusiasm about aeroplanes with a great deal of scepticism. When they depart only Sandy, Toot and I remain.

Mrs Johnson, Sandy’s lady friend hovers nearby in the Humber ready to take him back to Acton Bridge. After wishing him goodbye and promising to keep in touch he joins her in the car and they also depart. There’s no way I am letting Toot go and steer him to the pub. He informs me he is quite willing to catch a later train. I had a better idea. On the way to the pub I observe a post office. I persuade Toot to telephone the estate and ask permission to stay over an extra night.

He did this hesitantly but is very relieved when Mr Humphreys answers the telephone.

Toot explains something unexpected has arisen and would it be possible to remain overnight.

I watch his face change as he is informed Lady Emily has left this afternoon to visit friends somewhere, he thinks in London. Tom has taken her to the station in the trap. She hasn’t said when she will be back but she did have a great deal of luggage with her. In the light of this Mr Humphreys gives him permission to remain overnight. Toot asked him to notify his Wife of the development. At the pub I find there are now plenty of rooms empty and book my mate in for the night and arrange for his bill to be added to mine. The day is brilliant the Colonel’s medals and the condolence book have already been displayed over his chair as promised by the Land Lord. In turn the mourners toast the reminder of our friend Colonel Sanders. The shindig breaks up about four o’clock and most of the guests leave giving me an opportunity to update Toot on the developments regarding my Mother. We are in the dining room for our evening meal about eight o’clock when to my surprise George Wilkinson enters in the company of Captain de Silva dressed in civilians clothes. They are also accompanied by another man.

I find I am still suspicious regarding the Padre even though George has assured me he is a changed man. However to give him credit he conducted the last farewell for the Colonel in a caring and sincere manner. George guides him over to our table and explains to the Padre who we are. He shakes our hands and introduces his companion as John Baxter the Colonels solicitor. John informs us the Padre and himself had attended university together. I decide on the spur of the moment to forget the past and let bygones be bygones. As we have not yet ordered our meal I invite them to join us for dinner, without hesitation the Padre accepts the invitation and takes a seat opposite me. It is then I am able to see close up his face. There no doubt he has suffered as a result of the explosion. I recall he was very handsome before his injuries but now his face shows signs of burns. His facial and hand skin is crisscrossed with scars. His blind eyes are masked by dark glasses. At first the conversation is stilted but after a couple of pre dinner drinks the atmosphere becomes more congenial without mention of the war. The meals arrive with a selection of wines ordered by the Padre. As the wine is consumed the past is completely forgotten I realise I am enjoying the company of the Padre, George and John Baxter. John explains that he is handling the Colonels will and bequeaths. The half share of the pub is to be used to generate revenue to maintain the veteran’s cemetery. His house and contents are to be disposed of. The resulting cash is to be donated to the war widows and orphans fund. The information John gives me alters a decision I had already made to contribute to the memorial. This is the Colonels scheme and he has made adequate allowances without my input.

When the evening is drawing to a close and the company is about to leave John asks me to drop into his office in Great Malvern before I leave the district. He informs me “If my secretary hasn’t posted it yet there is a letter addressed to you from the late Colonel Sanders, but as you are here you may pick it up if it is still in my office.” The Padre shakes my hand and says in a clear voice that all are able to hear.

“Please try to forgive me for treating your friend so badly at a time when he needed my support. George informed me you and he were childhood friends. I hope you believe me when I tell you I have attempted to atone for my past sins.” His statement of regret brings a lump to my throat as I recall his death and the sight of Tommy’s poor mutilated body as it tumbled into the open grave. There is an awkward pause until my mate Toot puts his arm around my shoulder and gives me a reassuring hug. I use an expression I have heard on many occasions in France in my opinion sums up all the horrors we have experienced. “Ces’t la Geurre. It is over now we should learn to forgive and forget.” I grasp his hand and sincerely shake it

My pal and I have a chat and a smoke then retire for the night.

Toot is already up and about when I arrive downstairs for breakfast.

He has already eaten and is only waiting to wish me goodbye before heading home. Toot looks very embarrassed when he says.

“Thanks for paying my bill Scouse I don’t like sponging off you but I never intended to stay overnight. To be honest I didn’t bring any extra cash with me.”

I know his situation he has a family to support the last thing he needs is an unexpected bill. I lie to him to save his embarrassment.

“Toot my old mate it was my idea to keep you overnight. It will all be booked down as company expenses it won’t cost me a penny so don’t you worry about it.” He looks relieved when I confess this.

I add. “I’ll see you at St Margaret’s before I go back to France. I still haven’t met your family you know? Give my regards to your Misses and blame me for keeping you here.” With a final shake of hands my mate leaves the pub. After breakfast with my bag packed I am ready for the off as I settle my bill I have a nice surprise myself.

The Landlord reveals the Padre paid the bill for dinner and booze before leaving last night.

The funeral has been an interesting experience all around, especially the transformation of the Padre.

Before I make my way towards Great Malvern I have a last look at my old friend’s final resting place. To my surprise the statue is now in situ over his grave. The names of the fallen easily identifiable are etched into the sandstone although I search the long list there is no mention of the Colonel. After a final salute to a good man I make my way towards Great Malvern. On passing the vicarage I note the Rolls Royce is no longer there, presumably George and the Padre have already left on their journey to Bath. In the solicitors office there’s only a secretary present a nice looking woman in her late forties. When I explain who I am she introduces herself as Bette Evans and hands me an envelope. She informs me John has left his apologises but he is attending court in Hereford. Before I leave I ask her a question. “Are you aware of the memorial where Colonel Sanders is buried?” She replies giving an odd look. “But of course I was instrumental in formulating the order for the mason on the Colonels behalf. Why do you ask?”

I answer slightly hesitant. “Er I have just left the cemetery it’s a wonderful monument, very unusual. I noticed that the Colonel’s name is not included in the list of the fallen. Have you any idea why this is?” She explains tearfully. “The Colonel ordered the stone before he comm…” She stops talking in mid sentence I detect a sob.

I am at a loss of how to comfort her, she evidently thought a great deal of the Colonel. After wiping away a tear she continues.

“He made the order before he died. In his will he gave specific orders that his name must not be included on the memorial. We have to obey his last wishes he was a lovely man and I miss him so much.” The Lady breaks down again unashamed tears pour down her face.

When I move towards her hoping to give her comfort she waves me away. I have an idea how we can still honour the late Colonel.

“Bette, we should not let that good man go unremembered. If he has specified his name should not be on the memorial. Let me pay for another one bearing his name and war record only. With tears in her eyes she agrees it is a good idea and does not infringe his last wishes.

I make agreement with her to order another memorial stone, have it placed in an appropriate place to be agreed by his friends and she will send the bill to me. All business settled I make my way to the station and catch my train. In the comfortable first class carriage I settle down to read the Colonels letter. It is long and detailed. In it he apologises for not forming the transport company as he promised and for the decision he eventually made to end his life. The death of his comrades the Staff Sergeant and Sergeant at the chateau during the influenza epidemic had affected him deeply and contributed to his subsequent bouts of depression.

To my surprise he had followed my career in the army after he observed me in the first camp when I arrived in France. He guessed I was underage which I confirmed when Tommy was executed. The Colonel strangely identified me with his own child that died at birth.

In the last page of three he bids me good luck in my enterprises and wishes me goodbye. Another chapter in my life closes as the train pulls into Chester.

The weather is bitterly cold when I alight from the train at New Brighton Station. Although I had brought a great deal of cash with me I seem to be spending at an alarming rate. The bank I have arrangements with is not far from the station so I make a quick visit, consult the manager and breathe easy after he arranges as much credit as I need.

The walk up Warren Drive from the bank is pleasant enough but extremely cold, I think we are in for another snow storm by the look of the sky. As I enter the hotel lobby a young Lady passes me by pushing a baby in a very ornate perambulator. They are both muffled to the eyeballs ready to face the biting cold. I notice the baby is gurgling happily.

The receptionist greets me like an old friend and remarks. “He’s a lovely little boy Mr Bailey.” As I sign in I answer. “Yes he does look a very nice child. I am surprised his Mother is taking that child out in this weather its freezing outside.”

She gives me a strange smile hands me a bundle of letters and two telegrams and informs me. “Lady Angelique has asked me to notify her the minute you arrive. Are you going up to her room or do you want to wait for her in the lounge Sir?” Still feeling the cold I reply. “I shall go into the bar for a drink. Will you let her know I have arrived please?”