Angel on my Shoulder

by Carl Leckey

  I once heard the lads in the army referring to some women as Lesbian lovers. I never understood even though I laughed along with the crude jokes.

  I certainly have never witnessed anything like this myself.

  I had even entertained the idea of disclosing the details of my birth and the evidence I have to Lady Angelique but what now?

  Maybe I was mistaken interpreting what I had witnessed. It could have been just something they do in all innocence? Maybe this is how the well to do act? I don’t know. Is this what Tom was hinting at last night? All these thoughts race through my mind.

  “We are going to the castle Adam we will only be there for an hour or so.” Lady Angelique informs me. When I reach the castle grounds there are already a number of classy automobiles parked. Their chauffeurs stand about smoking and yarning. As soon as I join the line of vehicles and discharge my passengers they gather around to admire the Rolls. They are to a man dressed in very smart livery down to black shiny leggings. “Nice one matey, not seen this one here before or you, whose is she?” “The Carstairs Ladies,” I reply “They have had it for years but they didn’t have a driver until I turned up a couple of days ago.” “Not seen them at the cow market before either.” He adds.

  I don’t understand his description of the meeting. “Beg your pardon mate, the cow market? What do you mean?” The drivers laugh. “Don’t worry lad you’ll see what I mean when they come out, it’s what we call this gathering of Ladies eh Boys?” He addresses his mates. The other drivers agree lose interest in the Rolls and wander back to their vehicles and begin polishing and cleaning them. If you can’t beat em join. I get my cleaning material out of the rear pannier and set to on the Rolls. An hour later and a hoard of Ladies troop out heading for their various vehicles. Not a man amongst them I can now see why the drivers laughingly refer to the meeting as the cow market. The drive home is quite uneventful although the Ladies are chatting constantly they do so in lowered voices giving me no opportunity to eavesdrop. Next day is Toms first and nearly the last driving lesson. It takes me hours teaching him the functions of the gears steering brakes and clutch. When I eventually trust him to drive the vehicle he nearly writes us off when he races across a lawn and heads straight for a tree. Quick thinking and some smart acrobatics on my behalf save the day When we stop Tom sits a while shaking like a leaf. With the words “Adam you can shove this Rolls right up your arse. I’m sticking to horses.” He climbs out of the Vehicle and heads for the stable muttering obscenities about automobiles in general. Nothing I say will persuade him to try again. This leaves me in a dilemma as I have been engaged as his driving instructor. If he wants no more lessons I might as well leave and head for France.

  Since I witnessed the incident between the two Ladies I have decided I won’t pursue my heritage any further.

  Mr Humphreys solves my problem when he asks us at tea time how we are progressing. Tom openly admits driving an automobile is beyond his capabilities and he would prefer sticking with the horses and the landau. “Hmm!” Mr Humphreys muses,

  “I shall have a word with the Ladies.”

  I’m at a loose end now I can only polish the car so much. I decide to tidy the garage to pass the time away until a decision regarding my future is made. As I am shifting accumulated rubbish to a pile in a corner I come across a splendid oil painting of an officer in full dress uniform. It is badly stained with grease and other dirt but the painting is still in fair condition. I wipe it clean to the best of my ability and stand it on a bench guessing it has been discarded by mistake. When I detect a sound behind me I turn around to find Tom standing in the doorway waiting to accompany me to supper. “That’s the bastard Major Adam Mathew Bleeding Carstairs. What are you cleaning his picture off for, you should bloody burn it?” “I don’t really know Tom I thought it might be worth saving the frame. It’s got to be worth a few bob for your ale money eh?” His face lights up. “Good thinking lad, come on lets go for supper. I do believe we are on steak and kidney pud tonight, my favourite?”

  After supper and the usual round table gossip Mr Humphreys informs me the Ladies wish to see me right away. This is the first time I have been into the big house proper. He leads me down a long hallway hung with portraits of senior officers in various military uniforms. Mr Humphreys notes my interest. Proudly he explains. “These paintings represent the heads of the Carstairs family going back eight generations.” I don’t disclose I have found the ninth generation cast aside in the garage. A sudden thought brings a smile to my face. If I were to be recognised as the legal son of Major Carstairs, wouldn’t my portrait look well with me dressed in my privates Labours Corps uniform alongside the Generals.

  Further along the hall are a series of glass fronted display cabinets containing hand guns of all description. Mr Humphrey reveals. “The Old General was a collector and an excellent shot he regularly competed at the Bisley rifle ranges. I had the honour of accompanying him. Mr Humphrey’s adds nostalgically as if the General is still alive.

  “He has one of the finest collections of early American pistols in England, his wild-west collection he calls them.”

  He points these out to me all tagged and labelled with their history.

  They range from early muzzle flint locks to fairly modern colt revolvers. One is very noticeable by its absence, a gamblers twin barrelled Derringer pistol. I really don’t need any more proof that the Lady Angelique is the owner of the items I received from Mrs Jones.

  What is more she is almost certainly my Mother but what do I do now?

  I feel as if I’m back in the army as Mr Humphreys marches me into the drawing room where he formally introduces me as driver Bailey. The two Ladies are sitting in arm chairs. Lady Emily waves me into a chair and invites Mr Humphreys to remain, he takes a seat. Lady Emily say’s. “Well Adam, here’s a turn up.

  I believe Tom does not want to be a chauffeur after all. In that case I’m afraid we have no further use for your services I have decided to dispose of the Rolls. I suggest you spend the night here at the estate and tomorrow you get on with your life. All that remains to be said is. “Thank you for your time with us”

  Lady Angelique intercedes. “Adam would you consider staying on permanently as our chauffeur, with regular pay and a room of your own of course? We would even supply you with one of those fancy uniforms?”

  “I’m sorry my Lady. I’m sure I would have enjoyed being your chauffeur it is a wonderful automobile. Unfortunately I have made commitments to be in France in two weeks.” I reply. She contemplates my words for a moment then suddenly makes me an offer. “In that case would you be willing to instruct me how to drive?” “Oh! Don’t be ridiculous Angelique who ever heard of a Lady driving herself? You would be the laughing stock of society.” Lady Emily snaps. “I don’t give a hoot what society thinks. I have always wanted to drive the Rolls since Father obtained it. Don’t be such a prude Emily, things have moved on since the old days. Women drove buses and lorries during the war isn’t that true Adam?” “Er I believe so Ma’am.” I reply hesitantly not wanting to become involved in a row between the two of them. Lady Emily glowers at me. Angelique softens her tone. “Emily. Why don’t we both learn together it will be such fun, you know you enjoyed the run out to Dover the other day.” More impatiently she says. “Do come on Emily, just think of the places we can visit. Imagine the faces on that bunch we meet in Dover if we turn up driving ourselves?” Her last statement seemed to swing the argument. Emily replies thoughtfully. “Yes I must say I would enjoy that, tell you what Angelique, you learn to drive and then you can teach me.” They assume it will be agreeable with me until Mr Humphreys gives a little cough to draw their attention. “Lady Angelique, Adam is engaged to teach Tom. You haven’t given him the opportunity to agree to your proposal.” She gives me a delightful smile.

  “You will teach me won’t you Adam?” How should I refuse?

  Her tuition begins at ten o’clock next morning. Emily stands at the front door watching
as she takes her position in the front passenger seat. I follow the procedure Toot did when he taught me to drive the army vehicles. I explain the controls then we go for a drive with her observing.

  Within an hour she is in the driving seat and manoeuvring around the grounds albeit in bottom gear. Two hours later she has mastered the clutch and brakes but we need more space to experience all the gears. We stop for lunch at the front door where Emily still waits. “Thank you Adam I enjoyed that it is so exciting, how do you rate my driving up to now, shall we be risking the open road shortly?

  “I think you are ready, in fact I will go so far as to say you are a natural driver Ma’am.” I do believe I observe a slight blush as I pay her the compliment. I add hurriedly. “We are too restricted in the estate to progress further.” She replies. “Right then shall we say same time tomorrow?” “I was thinking this afternoon Ma’am?” “No I’m sorry that is not possible Lady Emily and I ride in the afternoon. However there is something you can do for me Adam. It is Mrs Humphrey’s birthday today. We try to arrange little surprises for the staff on their special day; it is a custom of the family. Would you be so kind as to take her for a ride in the Rolls?” “That is fine Ma’am I shall be looking forward to that and I shall be ready for your next lesson at the same time tomorrow.” With her arm around Emily’s shoulder chatting excitedly they enter the house.

  As I sit in the staff dining room for lunch Mrs Humphreys fusses around with all the appearance of a child going on her first outing. “What shall I wear? Where will we go? “How long will we be? Do we go very fast? Is it cold in the Rolls?” She bombards me with question after question. I answer them as best I am able, her husband advises her with a smile. “Calm down Enid, for goodness sake or you won’t see you birthday out. Why don’t you pack a picnic and go and see Elizabeth in Sandwich?”

  “Oh! Eric what a good idea, I haven’t seen her for ages. What about tea and dinner if I am late back? Who will sort that out?”

  “Enid, it is all arranged, the Ladies are going out this afternoon and they won’t be back for dinner. We will manage ourselves for a change. We are not useless you know, now go and get yourself ready. And wear something warm or you’ll catch your death. Daisy make up a picnic basket for her, there’s a good girl.” While his wife prepares herself for the outing he explains to me that the Elizabeth she is going to visit is the Ladies old governess who is now retired and lives with her Sister in a cottage alongside the river in Sandwich. When she resided at the house Elizabeth and Cecil’s wife were great friends. They have kept up contact whenever possible ever since she left. I just have time to study my map prepare the vehicle for the journey and have it ticking over at the kitchen door when Enid emerges dressed to the nines. She has an enormous flower adorned bonnet on her head secured with a ribbon knotted under her chin. Her body is completely enveloped in an Astrakhan coat almost sweeping the ground as she walks. Her husband follows carrying a huge wicker picnic basket he is trailed by the entire staff.

  “Where would Madam like to sit?” I ask her formally. She giggles and replies in a very posh voice. “Why Adam you silly boy, Madam will travel in the back of course.” I open the rear door and assist her aboard. I then load the picnic basket into the rear hamper and we are off for her birthday treat accompanied by the cheers of the staff. The two Ladies have even turned out to wave her on her way from the front door of the house. It is quite an easy journey to Sandwich we don’t see another automobile only horse drawn carts infrequently, Mrs Humphrey’s waves to all and sundry as she passes. Although it is impossible to hold a conversation with her but she continually shouts to me as she spots something or someone she recognises. We arrive at Sandwich manoeuvre through the narrow roads Mrs Humphreys guides me to a parking area in front of a small whitewashed cottage not far from the quayside where fishing boats are moored. Elizabeth and her sister Mary are two lovely old Ladies and make us very welcome. Within minutes of our arrival tea is made and a plate of Mrs Humphrey’s scones are buttered and served on delicate china plates. The three Ladies chatter about old times they include me in the conversation whenever possible. Elizabeth had been the governess and nurse to Lady Emily and Lady Angelique before her retirement and knew all their secrets. If they could have heard the information she divulged about them there would have been many blushes. “Where are you from Adam I seem to recognise that accent?” She enquires. Gulping down my mouth full of scone I reply. “I was born in a place up North Miss Elizabeth. I don’t think many folk down here have heard of my home town it’s called Birkenhead.” She does know her geography and replies. “Birkenhead that’s on Merseyside isn’t it?” I confirm this as true. She addresses the other Ladies. “That’s where that nice maid Millie came from. You know the one that went off with young Angelique?” Mrs Humphreys looks blank. “I think it was before Eric and I joined the staff, remember we were employed by the Generals Mother until she died.” Elizabeth persists. “I thought you would have heard of the goings on at the time anyway?” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial level. “There was a real to do, something happened between her and Major Carstairs just before he went off to South Africa. The General was beside himself with worry when she disappeared with Millie. Angelique was only about sixteen at the time. When Emily returned from Switzerland and found her missing she went mad, they hadn’t told her you see. It took them months to find Angelique and bring her back. It seems she had been living in that town of yours Adam. Yes it was definitely Birkenhead, they finally traced her because it was Birkenhead where Millie came from you see? I might forget some things but that little episode remains clear in my memory. Here’s another thing I remember.” The old Lady drops her voice to a near whisper before divulging the next secret.

  “Angelique had only agreed to return when she knew the Major was dead. What do you think about that then Enid?” I see Mrs Humphreys is gob smacked at this information I need time to digest this latest revelation. I make an excuse explaining. “I would like to explore the area while you Ladies have a chat?” Elizabeth looks at the clock. “Be back in an hour for supper my boy, Enid has brought a real banquet and we shall need your help to see it off.”

  I wander around the old village deep in thought, what should I do? Should I confront the Lady who I am now certain is my real Mother? After considering every aspect I make a decision. Now I know where my Mother is I am now able to contact her whenever I desire. That’s it

  I am going back to France to arrange the business and to marry my love Denise if she will have me and the big if. Will she return to Le Havre and me?

  After I have made the decision it’s like a weight off my mind. I continue my walk with a cheery heart.

  On the quayside an elderly fisherman sits on a barrel mending nets. I stop to watch. The sailor looks up, “You wouldn’t be wanting a job would you lad?” I shake my head, “Sorry mate I have one for the moment anyway, I don’t think I would be much good to you. I don’t know anything about fishing, I’m a townie.” “You’re a townie eh? That’s too bad.” I feel the need to reveal what I am capable of doing. “I know how to drive vehicles though.” “Aye I saw you driving that bloody big swanky thing over there. Visiting the two old dears are you? I know them well I give em some nice fish and they bake me some lovely pies and cakes I do some odd jobs for them now and again, no fella to help em out you see and they are getting on a bit. Must be nice driving one of those, is it yours?” “No.” I laugh. “I drive it for a posh family, not for long though. I’m heading back to France shortly Le Havre to be exact.” “Been there before then have you?” He asks.

  “Yes. I got back a few weeks ago I have been in the army over there.”

  “How do you intend getting there, going from Portsmouth are you? They don’t go from Dover to Le Havre now. I hear all the ferries are chocker block anyway. There is a waiting list for places on em; you have to book weeks in advance I’m told.” “Bloody. Hell! I’d not thought about that. I came into Dover a short while back,” He informs me
in a knowing manner.

  “That will be off a ferry seconded for war transport, they are gradually going back on normal schedules now.” “Shit what am I to do now? I have to be there by a certain date, got some business on.”

  I add as an afterthought “and my girl friend will be waiting for me.” He senses triumph. “I could help you out if you help me out sunshine. I can’t get any crew men for love or money since the bloody war.

  I’m getting rid of this boat, going to get me a proper job ashore. I want my bed every night at my age. They tell me there is a good market for this kind of boat in France. Can’t give em away here, there is no one to work em. When you are ready to go if you will crew for me I’ll take you over there. I drop in there regularly to sell my catches. It won’t be any problem, you don’t have to know nowt; just you do what I tell you. But don’t leave it too long though will you?” Problem solved I reckon another week will see Angelique a proficient driver and I am off. “You’re on.” I stick my hand out and shake his and introduce myself. He in turn tells me. “Just you look for Jack Crosse when you come back lad everyone knows me about here. I’ll be either on my boat Brenda or in yonder pub.” He points to the closest hostelry The Bell virtually located on the quay itself. I reply. “Right Jack, I shall be back a week today you can bank on it.” I return to the cottage and we have the banquet Mrs Humphreys had prepared at the estate. The Ladies are still gossiping as we dine but nothing of real interest to me. Suddenly I detect the sound of a loud bell ringing. “This is a strange time for a church bell to ring?” I remark. The Ladies smile. Elizabeth explains. “That’s the Pig bell at St Peters church you hear Adam. They ring it every night at eight o’clock. It’s a custom from the old days when villages were allowed to let their pigs roam the streets rummaging.”