Angel on my Shoulder

by Carl Leckey

  “Eight o’clock already, my how time flies we should be going Adam. I have never been out so late for years. Eric will be thinking we have run off together.” Mrs Humphreys informs me with a grin as she prepares to leave.

  It is quite dark as we make our way back to St Margaret’s via Deal but no trouble thanks to the excellent lights on the Rolls.

  I sense Mr Humphreys is nervous travelling in the dark as she insists on occupying the passenger seat in the front alongside me. As we drive along she asks me “What are you to do when you leave Adam have you got another job to go to?” I inform her. “I have. As a matter of fact it’s in France. You know it’s a good job we came to Sandwich. While I was walking around I got talking to a fisherman. He told me it’s almost impossible to catch a ferry over to France without a long wait. So I have arranged to go with him, lucky that eh?” “France.” She says. “That’s a foreign country. I wouldn’t fancy that I have heard they eat all kinds of weird things over there.” She muses. “Lady Angelique is from France. Of course you know that don’t you? I wonder has she ever eaten snails and frogs eh? Elizabeth and her Sister are right gossips. Did you hear her going on about Major Carstairs and, and, and?” She doesn’t go any further. “Mr Humphreys would go mad if he thought we were talking about the Ladies behind their backs. Eh Adam we best not mention all that tittle tattle we heard shall we?”

  Next day another lesson around the estate for Lady Angelique goes very well. As I return her to the house after an hour or so, prior to her alighting she asks. “Do you fancy a run to Canterbury tomorrow? It’s Sunday and I have always wanted to attend a service at the Cathedral?” “I wouldn’t mind seeing Canterbury myself.” I agree eagerly. “Yes ma’am that will be nice it will give you the opportunity to drive on the open road. May I have a word Ma’am?” “What is it Adam is there a problem?”

  “No Problem Ma’am. It is just I don’t believe there is much point in me remaining after another week as you are already a very good driver. When you have more experience on the roads there will be nothing else for me to do around here. I really need to get on my way as soon as possible.” “Hmm! That seems fair Adam, although I would like you to stay, I know this is not possible. By the way what is your connection with France? As you may have gathered I was born there myself.”

  I explain the plans regarding the transport business also my intention of marrying Denise and settling in France but do not indicate where. She wishes me well. “Good luck to you, will you keep in touch and let me know how you get on? I will be very interested to know how things work out for you. I would like to meet you fiancée one day, she sounds a very nice girl.” Unexpectedly she places her hand on mine “Thank you so much for teaching me to drive, it will make such a difference to us.” Leaving me slightly flustered she alights and disappears into the house.

  As Lady Angelique is to drive I am certain she doesn’t wish to learn about the servicing of the vehicle.

  That afternoon I spend the time teaching the young gardener the routine. He had asked Mr Humphrey if he could be involved with the Rolls as Tom won’t have anything to do with the vehicle. Since his last brush with death he is giving it a wide berth. I think the lad Alf sees the opportunity to better himself, a wise move on his behalf. He is very enthusiastic about automobiles in general and expresses his desire to be a chauffeur. His attitude impresses me I see myself in him when I began driving and decide to have a word with Lady Angelique about the lad, if his enthusiasm continues. Sunday morning fairly early I have just returned from breakfast and have removed the dust sheet from the Rolls and topped up the petrol tank when I notice Lady Angelique standing just inside the garage. She is dressed in her travelling clothes evidently ready to set off for Canterbury. I wonder how long she has been waiting there. I assumed we would be meeting at the usual time of ten o’clock at the front door, wrongly it appears. I apologise and race upstairs to change into my best clothes but more crucially I study my map and select the route. When I return she is already sitting behind the wheel. Surprise! Surprise! I intended taking the Rolls out of the estate and selecting a suitable straight road to start her off, but she had evidently decided otherwise.

  “Isn’t Lady Emily joining us Ma’am?” I enquire. “Not on this occasion Adam. She feels obligated to attend the local church on a Sunday, it is a tradition and the folk expect it from her. Tom will be taking her in the Landau.”

  Without more ado I start the engine leap in alongside her and off we go.

  It is a pretty uncomplicated route after a few excusable mistakes, the Lady drives like a veteran.

  After a mile or so I find myself relaxing and enjoying the trip except for the times she overtakes missing other vehicles by inches. Whenever she observes me bracing myself for an expected collision she flashes me a reassuring smile and says. “Whoops that was a close one eh? Adam.” When we arrive at the Cathedral I refuse her invitation to join her for the eleven o’clock service making the excuse I need to find a source of fuel for the automobile. She turns many a head as she dismounts from the Rolls and stands talking to me. Lady Angelique leaves me with instructions to be back in about two hours.

  By the main door of the cathedral are a group of ex service men virtually begging? Some have rags over their eyes I assume they are blind. Others are limbless leaning on crudely fashioned crutches. The poor unfortunates make the pretence of selling matches, laces and other cheap items, but still they are begging. So this is where the poor buggers finish up after their government has finished with them?

  As I am dressed in ordinary clothes and not in chauffeurs livery one of the onlookers dressed in a tattered army uniform assumes I am the owner of the Rolls and she is my Lady. He shouts. “Poor little rich boy. Where was you when your country needed you? “

  He has mistaken me for a toff, If only he knew about me? Wouldn’t my army mates have laughed at this insult? I feel guilty having come through the conflict intact myself. As I have no spare cash to give them I explain I have only recently been demobbed myself, their attitude changes when I reveal I was an ambulance driver. We share my packet of cigarettes while we chat about the war. Glancing at the town clock I realise an hour has already gone by. I bid farewell to the lads climb back into the Rolls and drive away feeling extremely sad at the sight of these poor unfortunates. The search for petrol turns out to be an impossible task as all fuel outlets are closed on a Sunday. Although the stocks are depleting in the garage I have enough fuel in the Rolls to get back to the estate. I am waiting for Lady Angelique when she emerges from the Cathedral. Before she comes over to the car she approaches the crippled veterans. I am too far away to hear what transpires but when she leaves them they appear a great deal happier. I am about to surrender the driver’s seat when she waves me back and informs me. “I shall ride home as a passenger Adam, it will give us time to have a chat.”

  We clear the city when she asks. “Do you have any experienced drivers amongst your army comrades who would be interested in employment as a chauffeur? Her question perplexes me. “I thought you were going to drive yourselves when I leave Ma’am?” She smiles. “There are times when one has to be driven to functions and other formal occasions. Besides we shall need someone who is capable of maintaining the vehicle.

  We might even be tempted to purchase another one if Lady Emily takes to driving.” “Yes Ma’am I do have some friends I would willingly recommend if you like I will contact them and ask them to apply. There is one particular chap however I would certainly recommend. Toot we knick named him, he is an older married man with two children Toot is a time serving soldier due for demob. Would there be a house going with the job Ma’am?” She replies “Oh yes. I am sure there is. Yes I recall there is a very nice one empty at the moment as a matter of fact.” I feel the need to reveal more about my good pal Toot. I reckon the estate would be a lovely place to bring his kids up. “Thank you Ma’am if that’s alright I will contact him as soon as possible. He is the chap that taught me to drive, a very rel
iable fellow. He doesn’t live far from here in Broadstairs as a matter of fact.”

  She smiles and informs me. “Right Adam I leave that in your capable hands. I’m sure if he is a friend of yours with your recommendation he will be satisfactory for us.” Strike while the irons hot was one of Toots favourite sayings. I believe this is good time to get a word in for Alfred the lad that shows great promise as a chauffeur.

  “Do you know the Gardeners boy Alfred has been assisting me with the Rolls? He appears very willing and he has expressed his desire to be a chauffeur.” She considers this for a moment before replying. “He is much too young. Maybe we will consider him as a trainee chauffeur if your friend takes up the post and approves of him.” Thank you Ma’am he will be pleased”

  “Right Adam I will it leave it with you to contact your friend. I shall have a word with Lady Emily when we get home. Let us say no more on that subject and discuss other matters shall we?

  By the bye will you address me less formally when we are out alone together? My name is Angelique, I was known as Angel as a child it would be nice if you were to use it?” For one wild insane moment I thought she was going to ask me to refer to her as Mother. I have mixed feelings when she makes this request. First of all I am overjoyed she has invited me to be more than a servant to her albeit only when alone together. On the other hand how could she a Mother abandon her child? I find myself mumbling. “Yes Ma’am.” Out of the blue she asks. “Why didn’t you come to the service at the cathedral it was beautiful.

  Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t realise you must be a Catholic? Well Adam I too was born to a strict Catholic family in France but I am quite happy to attend any house of God.” Her question somehow embarrassed me but I feel the need to explain to her. “It’s not that Ma’am.” She gives me a funny look as I use the usual manner of addressing her.

  “I have no time for any organised religion it is my belief they exploit the people particularly the poor and uneducated.

  I have not had very happy experiences with representatives of religion so far. What I witnessed in the war makes me doubt if there is a loving God at all. Take for example those poor ex servicemen having to beg to exist? Excuse me for saying this but you did ask. Did you also see the rich and well to do ignoring them as they went into the Cathedral? That’s what upsets me, that is not what Jesus preached is it?” I surprised myself by my outburst. Angelique is taken back by my response.

  “You poor, poor, boy how you must have suffered to doubt the existence of God.” “Excuse me again Ma’am it’s not God’s existence I doubt it is the people who exploit his name to suppress the masses.”

  She invites me to carry one. “Tell me more about your beliefs they interest me?” I’m in full flow now and I have nothing to lose. I have no interest in remaining in her employ. All of my pent up emotions come pouring out. “Well here is a good example. The Priests and Vicars in collusion with the rich urge the poor to accept their lot with a promise of paradise when they die. The rich will give generously to the building of churches but will see their employees living in squalor. The rich are quite happy to work children long hours in dangerous conditions but insist they attend church on their only day off. Why do they insist they attend church?” She doesn’t reply I add without being invited. “It is so the so called holy men can re instil their false message.” I should hear myself. Two years ago before entering the army I was a stuttering ignoramus. My sole subject of conversation was football and girls or the lack of them in my life. Now thanks to Sandy, Toot and other comrades plus the amount and variety of literature I have consumed since I achieved the ability to read. I find myself capable of holding sensible discussions on a number of subjects with confidence. I rant on for a few more minutes. Have I gone too far? I don’t think so. She speaks for the first time since I began my outburst. “My Adam you do have a great deal of emotion and conviction. I should say you would be regarded as a free thinker. Do you think the Russian revolution influences your beliefs?” I see where she is heading and reply. “It would be convenient to categorise anyone who objects to the status quo as a communist wouldn’t it? I can assure you I have no affiliation to any political parties or movements. Yes if I must have a title I would say I am a free thinker. One who makes his own decisions on the evidence he observes.” Angelique retorts quite sharply.

  “I hope you don’t categorise us with those type of rich people you abhor Adam?” I’m in for a penny and respond. “For what it is worth, I have only been at the estate for a short while but in my opinion your estate employees are quite content with their lot. I believe the manner in which you treat them is an exception rather than the rule. I believe I would have no problem working for you if I hadn’t another life already planned out in France.” My answer obviously pleases her. I consider telling her where my hatred of religion began in the hands of cruel Priests and Nuns in the orphanage. My hatred of the class system was reinforced by the attitude of many of the officers I had encountered during my army service. Anger wells up in me but just as quickly subsides as she places her hand comfortingly on mine albeit for a brief moment. For the rest of the journey she remains silent until we arrive back at the house when I drop her off she thanks me for an interesting outing. I have parked the Rolls and am about to replace the cover when the oil painting catches my eye. It is cast into the far corner of the garage. When I recover it I am shocked to see the painting has been completely ruined by what look like knife slashes across the face of the officer Major Carstairs. I question Tom and the boy Alf but they both deny touching the painting, another mystery prevails. Next morning after breakfast I am at a loose end with nothing in particular to do. The Rolls is spotless cleaned and polished to perfection the servicing is complete. A horse drawn wagon appears trundling up the driveway completely loaded with bags of coal. At least I have something of interest to watch. The cart comes to a halt by a hatch cover to the cellar a few feet from where I am lounging smoking a cigarette. The two coal heavers commence dumping the load down the chute. When they have completed their task the elder of the two enquires. “Need any more petrol yet mate?” So that’s where the stocks come from. After he explains he delivers petrol along with other fuels we load the empty drums on his cart with his promise he will deliver tomorrow. “What about payment?” I ask. “Oh! I’ll just put it on the account as usual. Mr Humphrey’s settles up with my boss.” He replies as he sets off. My last day arrives I have not had any contact with either of the Ladies since the run to Canterbury on Sunday, presumable Lady Angelique considers herself a proficient driver and does not require my services any longer. Or did my outburst frighten her off? I inform Mr Humphreys at supper that evening it is pointless me remaining. I will be leaving first thing in the morning after breakfast in time to catch a train to Sandwich. He orders Tom to take me to the station in the Landau and supplies me with paper and an envelope to write the letter to Toot. In it I explain about the job and ask him to make contact with the estate head of household Mr Humphreys. When Lady Angelique informed him one of my army comrades may be applying for the post he showed me the lovely little dower house on the estate.

  This is the house Toot will be offered if he is suitable and if he accepts the chauffeur’s position. That’s it! There are just two more tasks I wish to complete before I leave; they have been gnawing at me since I arrived. In the lockable glove compartment below the dashboard of the Rolls I secrete the brooch I found in the music box.

  I don’t know why I did this I just felt the need to do so. The next morning the two Ladies are off to join the local hunt on horseback very early. I somehow thought they would have said goodbye, at least I presumed Lady Angelique would. A silly thought strikes me, this the second time in my life my Mother has left me without wishing me farewell.

  Ah! Who needs her anyway? I’ve managed so far without her I’m off to start a new life.

  I slip into the big house when Mr Humphreys leaves on an errand and seize the opportunity to replace the derringer pistol wher
e it belongs in the display case. Tom drops me at the station in plenty of time to catch the train. Within an hour I am strolling through the streets of Sandwich stopping only to post the letter to my mate Toot then I head for the riverside quay.

  All at sea

  I arrive where the fishing boat Brenda lays moored to find nobody aboard

  I shout his name Jack a few times before a head pops up through a hatch on the boat moored alongside. “You be looking for Jack Crosse lad?” “Yes he told me he would be knocking about.” I reply. “Ha! He’ll be in the Bell having his morning breakfast pint. He’s a right boozer is our Jack. Are you the lad he’s taking on for the trip over the channel?” “Yes, that is the arrangement.” I reply. He makes me an offer. “Do you want a full time job with me lad? I know you are a townie Jack told me, I will soon teach you the ropes so to speak.” I smile and decline his offer “No thanks mate I have other plans.” He tries another tack. “It’s a good life if you don’t weaken, plenty of free fresh fish ha, ha. Here is Jolly Jack Crosse now lad. Bit of a warning for you. Be careful with Jack, he is too fond of the bottle. He’s a good man sober and a top class skipper, but when he is pissed, know what I mean?” With his last remark he disappears below the deck. “So you have turned up? Must say I doubted you would come back.” These are the words Jack used when he staggered towards me from the direction of the pub. It is just after noon and he is paralytic. This does not bode well for our trip to France. “When are we sailing then Jack?” I enquire as we climb aboard the Brenda. “Well it’s like this lad. He replies in a slurred voice. “I have to go below and study my charts.” He must be joking. In the state he is in at this moment he’ll be lucky to see the charts never mind study them. But I don’t know anything about the sea and boats so I have to take his word for it.