Reginald, Vera, and George
Location: Qasr El Nil Barracks, Officer's Club
Skills: N/A
The look on George's face, rather, the half of his face that was capable of demonstrating emotion, said much. It imparted bits of worldly advice like "prepare for the worst" and "do not react yet". Advice of that nature was sound as well as obvious; as much so as carrying an umbrella on a rainy afternoon. Unfortunately, the effort required to maintain calm in the face of personal tragedy was significantly more difficult than hoisting an umbrella against the elements. As George sat in front of him, Reginald swallowed a building lump in his throat and took the man's unspoken advice.
"A fire, you say?" he started carefully. Controlled concern was etched his voice as he continued,
"Do continue, if you would." This was not something that George wanted to go into, for many many reasons, but he had to. He wasn't one to speak much either so this made it more than doubly difficult to explain. He kept it as short as he could, as unaffected by intonation as he could, but it was still difficult. Having to explain to both Vera and Reginald that Peter was gone, that he was dead. He tried to leave as many details out as he could, not wanting to make matters worse. The fire at the statistics office. That what was blamed. Peters leg left him unable to be as quick in his movements as he once was. Georges single eye made things more difficult for him to see, some things people could never see coming. This was one of those times. To lose Peter, again, was one of them.
Vera sat there stunned, unable to say anything. Just listening. She didn't know if she was in shock or disbelief. Perhaps both. Peter had just stepped back into their lives, coming back from the dead yet it seemed that death was only taking a holiday in this case and he was gone again. She sat there, her hand resting on the arm of a chair, just staring blankly at a half empty tea cup, the stillness of the remaining tea matched only what was going on on the surface of herself. Inside she was a storm of emotions she wasn't sure how to deal with. Stiff upper lips of the aristocrats was hard to maintain right then, especially as tears started to drip from her eyes.
Reginald carried the same businesslike demeanor, but the volume of his voice had decreased dramatically. His own eyes softened, but he refused at that moment to allow himself the luxury of physical emotion. Or much of it, anyway.
"I see." was all he could manage at that point in time. He cleared his throat, trying to continue but noting that his voice was losing a bit of its stability.
"Was it, ah... Did he suffer? Was it a clean passing?" he asked hopefully. It was probably a moot point; he was just as dead regardless of circumstance, but both men were soldiers. Soldiers deserved a clean death. He hoped that Providence allowed his dear nephew at least that one gift.
Vera's eyes twinkled in the light of the room, the tears watering her eyes seemed to dance slightly as she looked towards George for an answer. Whether he suffered or not she didn't want to know. Even if he did, she didn't want to know. She wanted to hear he didn't suffer no matter what happened. She wanted to hear he passed peacefully even if he didn't. She wanted to hear he felt no pain even if he did. George looked at Reginald and shook his head slightly.
"No sir, mmm he didn't suffer. It was a clean death," George said, the gravel in his voice more than usually evident. Could it have been emotion? The smoke he inhaled? Or more? One couldn't tell but it was there. Vera lowered her head and the tears fell to her clasped hands resting in her lap. A slight whimper coming from her as she choked down the emotions. George rose and pulled out a handkerchief, placing it in her hand.
The Lord Major seemed very much the old man right then. His posture slouched and he signed heavily, his eyes staring down at the table in front of him.
"Good. That is good, at least. Thank you, Mr. Benaszewski." He had lost his dear nephew
again, and just when he had gotten the man back. His death was one of the factors that made Reginald the way he was; his return lightening the old man's soul. That light had been snuffed, and he could already feel urgings of the recent past coming to the fore.
Wordlessly, the Corporal rose and left the table, returning with the Lord Major's bottle from earlier and a handful of stacked tumbler glasses. While it was the Corporal's intention to prevent Reginald from drinking himself into a stupor that evening, it seemed that a drink was fitting. He set the glasses down on the table and poured a dram for each of them. "For the Lord Captain, sir?" he inquired.
"Lord Captain Peter Keystone." responded Reginald, a little more strength in his voice. He reached for a glass and raised it from the table.
Reaching out George took two glasses, setting one in front of Vera who was visibly trembling. George raised his own glass and nodded.
"Mmm, to Peter, may he rest in the peace life refused to grant him..." he said quietly.
Vera coughed and nodded as she wiped away the moisture from her upper lip.
"Yes... to Peter," was all she managed to say before nearly knocking over her glass as she reached for it. George reached out with his free hand and steadied her enough so she could drink before drinking his own.
The Lord Major waited with his glass raised high, until the others started to imbibe before he started on his own glass. It was a tiny touch of etiquette in a situation where etiquette might be called upon favorably. The Corporal, wishing to show proper respect to a member of the Lord Major's family and an officer in the Royal Armed Forces, immediately snapped to attention and threw a proper British salute, sounding into the otherwise quiet air of the Officers' Club an alternate version of the bellow normally reserved for his highly revered Commanding Officer:
"Lord
CAPTAIN!!!"
The drink in the Corporal's hand disappeared into his face the instant that his salute snapped to his side. Highly unexpected as the man's actions were, it did serve to startle Reginald a bit, earning the Corporal a glare from the older man. It lasted for a mere second before his gaze softened; when it came down to it, it really was how he showed respect. Shaking it off, the Lord Major turned his attention over to George, inquiring,
"Which hospital or mortuary service has possession of my boy's remains, sir? He deserves full military honors, of course. And he really should be interred with his family." Resting his hand on Vera's shoulder to try to comfort her, George set his glass down.
"I requested, mmmm his body be brought here sir. They said it would be taken to the Anglo-American hospital until it could be claimed by family or country sir. Mmm, they said they would be in contact once it was ready. Mmm, I told them to contact you," George said quietly. Vera sobbed slightly and George's eye went to her.
"Sir, mmm, perhaps I should escort Lady Munn to her room?" "Indeed." agreed Reginald, albeit quietly. He rose from his seat ponderously and stood for a moment before shaking George's hand, and shuffling over to Lady Munn.
"I am so very sorry, Vera. So very sorry." Back to George, he intoned,
"You have my gratitude, Mr. Benaszewski. Please, do take your leave. Let us know if you require anything at all." He poured himself another drink and settled back into his chair, a thoughtful look etched across his face.
"Thank you sir, mmm." George shook the mans hand firmly but respectfully. Turning he wrapped an arm around Vera's shoulder and helped her to her feet. She leaned against him, sobbing quietly as she could manage, trying to push it down but she couldn't. Only able to give a nod towards her uncle.
"Let's get you to bed," George said softly towards Vera as he lead her out of the room.
The room became devoid of people yet again, except for Reginald and the overly enthusiastic Corporal. The two of them sat in silence for a long while, occasionally sipping on their drinks. The Corporal broke the silence with,
"Permission to speak, sir?" Reginald just nodded. The Corporal continued, "Big day tomorrow, right sir?"
"Indeed." responded the Lord Major dryly.
"Your plans remain unchanged, then?"
"They do, Corporal. I cannot put off plans that have already been set into motion, you see, particularly as they require my assistance to continue. I am as bound to this as I am anything. My personal grief notwithstanding." The two regarded each other silently for a while. It was late, and time waited for no man who was still alive. In the quiet, one could hear the calls of the insects along the river. It was indeed late. Some might say too late. Their path was already set. They had no choice but to travel down it.
