An Officer and a Gentleman
[A few days before "Werewolves in London"]
Shifting for himself when it came to meals wasn't difficult for Joachim. His father employed a single cook/housekeeper who came in twice a week, and her found her fare passable if plain. He'd spent the afternoon that day at the Fry stables feeding and grooming his new horse, debating internally on what to name the animal. There would never be another Stormdancer, but the colt he'd found was spirited and lively. He was even considering a new saddle, something less worn than the one he'd used before. One step at a time, his life was evening out again.
He was moving with a bit more care today. His physician had provided a brace for his leg, and he was still getting used to the confinement at the joint of his knee. When he decided to take a late lunch at a pub, he stumped to a table near the front where he could watch the traffic outside. London was the most bustling place he'd been to outside of Delhi, and he was still a bit awed that so many people lived so close together.
The major ordered a meat pie and some sausages, as well as a mug of beer. Tea was for lunch, and while he didn't often imbibe, the heaviness of the meal would offset the alcohol. He could come to enjoy this city quite a bit, really.
A few weeks ago, he wouldn't have been going here for dinner. A few weeks ago, he'd have sent home what he'd spent on dinner here. Of course, he still planned to send the better portion of it back. Debts paid off or not, his family still had to live on something. Even if, from the letter that sat by the ashtray, his mother might have been able to live off of happiness alone. She was the only person he knew who could laugh through ink and paper, he reflected as he read it over for the sixteenth time.
Still, Izzy wondered why Berdette was paying him at all. After all, there was now a mutual understanding that he was in her debt, though he'd never said anything about it to her and she'd in turn never mentioned it to him. It was just logical.
He'd gone back to work today, and they'd closed up shop barely fifteen minutes ago. This just happened to be the closest pub, though he probably shouldn't have come here seeing as how he now felt wildly out-of-place. The doctor had told him that he should probably have gone out a bit more, the way he lived was apparently very strange for someone his age and he could use a little more social interaction. So far, the only person he'd spoken to was the hostess. He sat and waited for his meal to come, taking a drag on one of the medicinal cigarettes he'd been prescribed (something he'd had to make room for in his budget, though they did wonders for his nerves, or at least made him feel slightly normal).
The sausages were good and thick, if a little overcooked, and Joachim chewed thoughtfully as he watched a carriage clatter past outside. He was supposed to have dinner with his mother at some point this week, and he looked forward to her cooking. He imagined that Frederick would join them at least once while he was here. He was never sure of how to comport himself when his parents were in the same room, and he usually reacted by not being there for very long. His mother didn't need protecting, he had to remember that.
The tickle of memory he felt when he saw the young man two tables away was of a different sort, and it took him a moment to place the lad. A frown creased his normally unlined brow, and he looked down at his food before taking a drink of beer.
Milksop. What in the world had come over him?
He coughed quietly into his hand, then reached for his cane. He was an officer in Her Majesty's army, and more than that he was a gentleman. Disgracing himself in such a manner called for making amends. Unfolding his tall frame from the chair, Joachim made his way over to Mr. Alderdice's table, then coughed again to get the other man's attention. "Excuse me, may I have a moment?"
Most of the reason Izzy wasn't especially sociable was that he knew very few people in London he could easily call friends. He'd have probably gone out more if he had other people to go out with. The shopgirls seemed to be realizing that he simply wasn't their sort of person, and he wasn't really certain he wanted to get in too deeply with the women who hung around the shop, despite his mother's insistence that they, or perhaps their husbands, would be very good people to know. Strictly speaking, he wasn't much more than an acquaintance to most people, which he was perfectly find with, though he'd never admit it. It wasn't that much different from home.
Which was why it surprised him to hear a voice he knew in here. What was more, it was no one he knew from the shop, or from his previous occupation (thankfully). Nonetheless it was a voice he hadn't really thought he'd ever hear again. He turned his head to confirm, and indeed he was right. Crushing out his cigarette, he tried to relegate his confusion to somewhere that was not his face.
Why in the world would this man (oh Christ he'd forgotten his name, he'd really have to get better at that) speaking to him? He nodded and sat up straighter. "Yes, sir."
The officer was holding himself very erect, as if to slouch would only compound his previous error. He must set an example, after all, even if none of his former comrades-in-arms were present to witness this. Impressions mattered, in uniform or out of it.
"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you at your lunch," he said formally, altering his grip on the cane to take some of the weight off of his knee. "I wanted to apologize for my terrible behavior of the other night. It was most disagreeable. I can't imagine what must have come over me."
He felt exceedingly awkward standing there, but he couldn't very well take up the chair opposite the other man without being invited. He'd been enough of a boor already.
Was it really that early? Izzy had no idea, and he didn't exactly have a watch. Nonetheless he was a little bit bewildered by what had just happened. People who'd yelled at him a few weeks ago usually didn't come up and apologize later. That didn't seem to be the way things worked around here. If you didn't know the person, you just let it passed. However, he highly doubted the man (it started with a Z, didn't it?) was a native. It still seemed a bit strange, though.
"Thank you, sir," he said, still a little guarded in his mannerisms, which didn't help the situation at all in terms of awkwardness. "It was hardly any trouble - I daresay I probably brought it on myself." He paused for a moment. "Would you like to sit down, sir?"
"If you wouldn't mind."
Joachim carefully seated himself, the brace so damnably awkward that he had to leave his leg in the open rather than tucking it under the table.He would have to watch out for servers so they wouldn't trip over it. "As I said, it was extremely inappropriate of me to speak to you in such a fashion. Such behavior isn't fitting. I must have eaten something earlier in the day that did not agree with me."
Mr. Alderdice's food arrived, and the officer hoped his own meal didn't grow cold. "This day finds you well?"
It seemed odd that he would get such a sincere apology from someone for whom he was probably entirely inconsequential. Perhaps it was another cultural thing, though if the man was talking about his digestive issues as the source of the problem, perhaps Izzy hadn't done anything like that at all. Maybe he'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"It's perfectly fine, sir," he replied, "Anyone could have done the same."
To be frank, Izzy did not look like the picture of health. He was more gaunt than usual and his skin still had a slightly grayish tinge, though in this light it would have been hard to tell. He'd been getting comments on it all day, but he did feel quite a lot better than he had been for the past few weeks. "Indeed, sir. How does it find you?"
"Now that I've learned to work around being mostly lame, its going swimmingly." There was mild sarcasm in the officer's voice, but it wasn't directed at Izzy. He was relieved that his apology had been accepted, but the lad looked as if he was suffering from the last vestiges of some strange disease. He'd seen malaria take its toll on men in the field, and of course stomach illnesses were common. Still, they were still more or less strangers, and it didn't feel proper to inquire.
"You are employed here? The food is quite good. I had not expected to enjoy English cooking, but I have been pleasantly surprised."
Izzy nodded, noting the cane the major had been using. That wouldn't have looked good a few weeks ago, had it come down to that (which it thankfully hadn't). There were a few things that could justify giving someone a duffing-up in public, but they were usually negated when one of the participants was a dhampir and the other one was lame. "No, I'm not, sir," he replied, and didn't go into where he did work, seeing as how still wasn't sure how it would be taken.
Taking another cigarette from the tin, he looked up at the man for a moment and asked, "Do you mind?" This was a pub, but it never hurt to ask, especially considering the officer's previous behavior.
"No, please, go ahead." Joachim had tried cigarettes as a younger man and found them not to his liking, but he was the last man to tell someone else what to do unless they were part of his command. Mr. Alderdice looked as if he were a little down-at-the-heels financially. He wondered if it would be a polite gesture to pay for the man's meal. Pride was a funny beast, and could strike when one least expected it.
"If I may ask, what is your business in London, sir? You're the age for the army, but you might already have a situation of your own."
He was likely having too many of these at once, he thought as he struck a match. At this particular moment, the matter wasn't really up for debate, and besides, his mind was starting to spin again. It had been doing that a lot, lately, winding around specific theories which he tried to convince himself meant nothing. "Thank you," he replied.
After thinking for a moment, he replied with a small smirk, "I'm here to make money, sir." He'd thought about joining the army quite often. It seemed like the perfect way to make a respectable living while keeping his bloodlust under control. However, he doubted that anything he would have done to the enemy would have been wildly against any kind of orders, and besides, what if he ended up attacking one of his comrades? It was looking like an even more unlikely prospect - would Mrs. Daugney allow him to leave?
"Ah, a speculator, then. I have a few investments of my own. Nothing spectacular, but enough to keep money coming in should my first career come to an unfortunate end." On closer examination, the soldier decided that Mr. Alderdice might be better off than he had first suspected. The suit looked fashionable, if not new, which meant the lad must be clerking somewhere. He lifted his cane by the handle as if toasting an invisible person."Gainful employment is one thing that not everyone seems to have in this city. You are very fortunate."
"I suppose you could say that," Izzy was sure he knew what a speculator was, but the definition wasn't coming to him right now. It probably didn't matter, anyway, since the man didn't seem to mean any kind of insult by it, or if he did he was covering it up very well. "You're in the army, sir?" Probably one someone high-ranking in wherever he was from, going by his dress and the cane he carried.
Izzy nodded a little more fervently than he should have. "Oh yes I am, no doubt about that." He was, and there was no need to question it, or be paranoid at his good fortune.
"Before this, I received my officer's warrant." Joachim indicated the leg, brace and all. The brown face creased in a slight smile, and he added, "I hope to return to it once I've healed. Soldiering is a difficult path to choose, but Her Majesty needs able bodies to protect Her holdings even in these modern times. It's a good choice for a young man to make, if he has no other prospects."
Nodding, Izzy replied, "But I doubt if there's any path more noble." He laughed, smoke rising out of his mouth in jerky little puffs, "It's what -" he quieted the coughing fit that resulted, "'S what most of the boys back home go off to do. If they don't become farmers, of course." Or they might have stayed back, learned how to fight enemies that no one wanted to see. That didn't pay well enough, of course.
Mr. Alderdice seemed an intelligent enough chap, and Joachim was pleased he'd made the effort to apologize. He must not sully the reputation of the military by behaving badly in public. The soldier indicated his own table behind them.
"I cannot stay long, as I have my own food waiting for me, but I wished to put a better foot forward, as it were. It is not becoming for an officer to act so churlishly."
Izzy nodded to the officer and smiled politely. "It was very kind of you, sir, far more than I deserve." He tapped the ash off his cigarette and made a small salute. Truthfully, he hadn't even noticed that his food had come until now, the whole incident had seemed so out-of-place.
"Good day to you, sir."
With a small effort, Joachim rose from his chair, the cane helping him balance his weight. "I bid you a good afternoon, Mr. Alderdice," he said before stepping away from the table. His father would have been proud, certainly. Bastard or not, he knew his manners.
The day was suddenly looking much better from where he stood.