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It had been a couple of weeks since the plague pit at Button Manor had been dramatically uncovered. Alison and Mike reluctantly forced to remain, with little other options available to them.
The ghosts of course had been thrilled, no fear of hotels – or Fanny losing the family ancestral home. Everyone had been impressed by the Captain’s manoeuvring to their benefit, for a couple of days. Then the rolling of eyes had began once more, the exasperated sighs and people vacating the room when he entered.
The Captain pretended it did not concern him, that he was above such petty actions. He was an officer in His Majesty’s army – he was to only focus on his duties, and serving his country as well as one is able while stuck in purgatory. (Which was very little, if he were being frank.)
But, as the days rolled by – the others clear in their disdain of him, their lack of patience when he was talking or their shared little mocking remarks about his person when he walked by – the Captain felt his willpower gradually start to wilt.
Each tut, sigh and huff of frustration tapping away at his carefully constructed walls, built to keep himself safe from others. Safe from their judgement, safe from their hatred.
Only one man had bypassed his walls; a Lieutenant from many years ago. The Captain had even opened the gate willingly, welcomed him in. Only to be betrayed once he allowed the other man to see the hidden parts of himself.
Aware of the sound of movement downstairs, the Captain sighed softly to himself – the house was awakening and the hustle and bustle soon to begin. He’d been trying to convince Alison to do timed laps with him in the morning, they’d negotiated a more suitable time of morning (for some baffling reason Alison thought 0500 to be too early?) – 0800 hours, they’d eventually agreed.
It was nearing 0800 hours now, and yet the Captain felt no impulse to ready himself for his morning exercises. He felt no compunction at all at the idea of remaining where he was, laid on bed. It made little difference what he did, in the grand scheme of things.
No one cared whether he joined their activities or not – or, possibly more accurately; they preferred when he didn’t attend. It meant they weren’t burdened with his presence. He had always been a burden; as a child – never able to meet his father’s reasonable expectations, then later as a soldier. Promoted to Captain, and no farther. The top brass reluctant to let him fight on the frontline, instead choosing to pack him off to a backwater base – commanding officer to a selection of bright-eyed, naïve privates. All completely ignorant to what they would face, should war eventually cross the Channel and land on their sheltered little island.
He was just taking up space, wasn’t he? Even just being in this room. The room could be used by Alison and Mike for any manner of thing, but they couldn’t – because he choose to sleep here. A burden, again.
Where could he go then that he’d be out of everyone’s way? He’d need to vacate the manor, the garden maybe? Not the front lawns, Kitty tended to play out there and Robin liked to run off his excess energy. He’d get in their way. They’d be forced to acknowledge him, forced to make conversation.
That wasn’t fair on them.
The lake? No, Thomas frequented there when he was feeling melancholic.
If he remembered rightly, if he followed the drive and then took a sharp right turn into the forest – he could reach the farthest point of the boundary. No one went out there. He’d discovered the boundary only a few months after his death, antsy to get out and help with the war effort. Stopped in his tracks when he’d discovered that he was apparently not permitted to leave the boundary of Button Estate. His purgatory had territorial limits, he’d glumly realised.
Deciding his plan had merit, the Captain swiftly bounded to his feet – slipped past the other residents unnoticed (too busy arguing over Mike’s choice of breakfast) and outside, down the drive and deep into the forest.
Upon arriving at the fenced boundary, the Captain let himself slide down to a seated position, back pressed against the fence itself. Not a position very becoming of a soldier, but he wasn’t much of a soldier in the end anyway – was he?
This is best, the Captain affirmed, You’re in no one’s way now. This is where you should remain, from now on.
A crushing wave of despondency abruptly washed over the Captain – he’d managed to hold off his depressive thoughts for near 80 years; having been so focussed on acting as an officer should. But then he’d heard the others, heard their mocking and cutting remarks and he’d struggled more and more each day to keep the misery at bay.
Kitty’s words had hurt most - I'm going to boss everybody about and never think of anything myself!
Did people really view him that way? A cowardly man only feeling power when he commanded authority over others, never having original thought and thieving ideas from others?
He supposed he must be, if someone as sweet as Kitty could pronounce it.
Lieutenant Havers, how he must have abhorred the Captain – so keen was he to get away from him, he requested a transfer to the frontline. The one person he’d thought may have had even an ounce of interest in him had literally sent himself to war as an excuse to get away from him.
How truly repugnant was he? To inspire such dramatic actions.
This was unquestionably purgatory, the Captain dejectedly acknowledged, he’d been hated all his life and now he was to be hated in death. His punishment for his worthlessness.
Eternally alone.
That was his punishment.
Glancing up at the birds chirping within the treetops above his head, the Captain felt a stubborn tear roll down his cheek.
No point crying old boy, it’ll do you no good, he scolded himself, frowning when his mental reprimand only caused more tears to release and cascade down his face.
The despair within swelled, causing sobs to reluctantly tear from his throat – the Captain distantly grateful he’d left the house and placed plenty distance between him and the others. Heaven forbid he give them anymore reasons to despise him.
Why couldn’t he just die? Why did he have to remain? He understood it was his punishment, but why did everyone around him have to suffer also?
For all the Captain knew, him causing Havers to transfer to the frontline led to his death.
He had murdered Havers, in a way.
He’d murdered the one person who, for however short a moment, seemed to not instinctively loathe him. The one person who had made the Captain smile, made him laugh, made him think that he didn’t have to be alone. That maybe he wasn’t as corrupt and damaged as his father always said he was.
Dropping his head into his hands, the Captain wept with his entire being – his body shuddering with the force of the sobs ripped from him. Each sob tore another shred away from his soul, igniting the self-hatred burning deep inside him.
“Please let me die,” the Captain begged aloud, voice thick with tears and choking over each word – pleading with a God who had long abandoned him to his fate, “Please, I’m so sorry Havers. I’m so sorry I’m so worthless.”
His grief didn’t seem to want to abate, each sob more wretched than the next as he imagined the Lieutenant’s soft, kind smile. He’d been the only person to ever smile at the Captain, the only person who seemed to actually want to be near him.
An unexpected thumping noise followed by a huffing exclamation caused the Captain to tear his hands away from his face and furtively scrutinise the area around him – had someone followed him down here? Hoping to catch him in this vulnerable state? Be ready to mock him and belittle him. Was there no where he could be without being ridiculed for his existence?
His morose thoughts allowed for the tears and sobs to continue, his heart shattering into a million pieces with each tear dripping from his jaw. He remembered feeling this way, back while he was alive. But the war had kept him focussed – kept the sorrow locked away at the back of his mind, merely a distant hindrance.
Men did not cry, they did not have broken hearts.
They simply…
… soldiered on.
“Captain? What’s wrong?”
Startling at the voice near his feet, the Captain jerked away – gaze falling upon the abandoned head of Humphrey, the man’s eyebrows scrunched up in concern as he looked back at the soldier.
“What are you doing here?” the Captain demanded fiercely, futilely scrubbing at the tear tracks on his cheeks, “Is there no where I can be alone in this infernal place?”
“Robin and Thomas were playing football again. I always forget what a mean kick Thomas has…” Humphrey trailed off briefly, before redirecting his attention to the Captain once more, “I’m sorry to just burst in on you like this.”
The tone of apology was evident in Humphrey’s voice, causing the Captain’s anger to quickly dissipate and the guilt to leak in once more – it wasn’t Humphrey’s fault the Captain was so abhorrent. It had been his duty to find somewhere he wouldn’t be near the others, forcing them to converse with him. It was he who had failed here, not Humphrey.
“I-I apologise Humphrey, that was most out of order of me,” the Captain paused to clear his throat and discretely sniff, hoping the other man would be kind enough to pretend not to see the water still escaping his eyes, “I shall find somewhere else to reside.”
“I wouldn’t mind a chat, if that’s alright with you?” Humphrey’s voice urgently queried, causing the Captain to halt in his awkward clambering back to his feet – his knees grateful when he fell back down to be seated.
“Of-of course Humphrey,” the Captain nodded, coughing out a weak sob as he fruitlessly wiped away the gathering tears once more, silently mortified by his weakness but unable to prevent the wretchedness from continuing to pour out – like a dam broken beyond repair, “How can I be of help to you?”
“Well actually, I was thinking we should be creating some kind of guard duty for the house, you know? It’s not really mattered all these years, but now with Alison and Mike here – there’s a concern of burglary. When I used to reside here, we took security very seriously. I thought it worth discussing, and of course you’d be the best person to consolidate a consistent strategy with,” Humphrey continued, seemingly unbothered by the Captain’s distressed state nor his swallowed sobs or his weak sniffles.
“T-that’s an excellent idea Humphrey, if I do say so, b-but,” wincing as his heart surged with self-hate the Captain turned his gaze away from the Courtier, “I-I rather think you’d be better planning this without me. Patrick has shown quite a talent for scheduling, he’d… He’d be, a-a much better choice than I, I should think.”
“Pat’s great yeah,” Humphrey agreed, confirming the Captain’s self-loathing as he weakly dropped his head, allowing the tears to move on with no resistance this time, “But he’s not you, is he? He doesn’t have all your experience, and your knowledge.”
Briefly surprised at Humphrey’s assessment of him, the Captain allowed only a second of hope to rise within him before crushing it down and acknowledging the statement to be false. With one choked out disparaging scoff, the Captain’s voice caught as he realised the other’s aim, “Ah I see, you’re here to mock me also? I understand.”
“I-I imagine I’m fair game these days,” the Captain uttered, a mixture of spite and desolation coating his tone, “I did t-try to keep out of everyone’s way.”
“Cap, I’m not lying,” Humphrey’s voice stated clearly and without any humour or frustration, “You are the best man for the job. That’s why I’d like to discuss it with you.”
Lifting his head, the Captain glanced towards Humphrey – as far as he could see there was no derision within his expression, nor mocking glee as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, “I fear you’re mistaken,” the Captain uttered quietly, the tears finally having slowed and the sobs no longer needing to be subdued.
“Captain, I’ve been here a long time. Not as long as Robin, that’s a given, but I’ve seen many people. Seen many a soldier, a leader, a king. I know when a man is suited to the job and can fulfil his duties to his best ability – and here, now, the person most suited to help me in my request would be you Captain,” he stated, his determination shining through as he stared back resolutely.
Blinking against the raw sensation prickling at his eyes, the Captain silently considered the other – could he be telling the truth? Humphrey hadn’t been present when the other’s had mocked him, hadn’t said any negative things about him. But maybe that was simply because he hadn’t the ability? Had he been there, maybe he would have joined in.
Though, when he thought about it, the Captain had never known Humphrey to be cruel. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever heard the man say a single bad word about his fellow ghosts, endlessly patient and logical, no matter the situation. Which was particularly impressive when you considered the fact he was unable to just excuse himself from an interaction, like the rest of them could do.
Maybe, being as he was, he’d seen and learnt a lot more than any of the other ghosts could possibly imagine. His word should really be respected – it having come from considerable experience.
“I saw you Captain, during the war. You led your men well. Your Lieutenant clearly trusted you to fulfil your duties.”
The unexpected mention of Havers caused a spike of pain to lance through the Captain’s heart as he visibly cringed, “N-No, I rather think you are mistaken again Humphrey. Ha-the Lieutenant… He left-He didn’t…”
“He didn’t want to leave,” Humphrey softly announced.
Frowning, the Captain shook his head as if to disregard Humphrey’s statement, “W-what? How can you-? Of course he did, he left and he-”
“He was told to leave,” Humphrey’s voice was hushed now, as if uttering secret intel, “I remember, I was there when he got the phone call. I don’t know why, as I could only hear his side of the conversation but he was… devastated. He said he wanted to stay on base, serving you but- whoever he was speaking to, they must have said something pretty awful because he went all white. Like he going to pass out. He mentioned your name and his, then it was mostly nodding and he hung up.”
Shocked beyond belief, the Captain stared into the distance above Humphrey with haunted eyes.
“He didn’t want to leave, that much was clear to me. He seemed really happy, working here as your Lieutenant.”
Still unable to process Humphrey’s admission, the Captain choked on air for a moment, “He didn’t-? They ordered him to? But why would they?”
His thoughts were disordered and difficult to gather, nothing adding up and making sense. Why would the top brass suddenly transfer Havers to the frontline without making the Captain first aware? It went against procedure, to direct communication to the Lieutenant before the Captain. They’d only bypass procedure if there were concerns about… fraternisation.
Had they known?
Had someone reported them?
Had someone seen how he and the Lieutenant would smile at each other, how happy the Captain was whenever he was with the Lieutenant?
Had Havers been sent to the frontline simply to keep them apart?
Fresh tears escaped from the Captain’s reddened eyes as he felt devastation forcefully crush his heart, Havers had wanted to stay with him? He’d liked the Captain as much as he’d liked the Lieutenant? He wasn’t alone, in his happiness. The Lieutenant hadn’t found him abhorrent, he’d… liked him. Wanted to spend time with him. Wanted to serve alongside him.
These were all things the Captain had dreamed of, at the time. Days spent commanding their platoon, side by side. Evenings spent drinking whiskey, listening to Glenn Miller and indulging in easy familiar conversation.
Things he’d sneered at himself for wishing for more of, after the Lieutenant’s departure. Believing the man as having been eager to rid himself of the Captain, and that he – was as frail and feeble as his father had always told him to be. So desperate for someone to actually want to spend time with him.
When it seemed, Havers had wanted to be with him.
He hadn’t been alone. Havers had been there the whole time.
Choking on a heartbroken sob, the Captain used his sleeve to desperately muffle it – abruptly wishing Havers was with him now. He’d know what to say, how to make him feel better again. He’d always had time for the Captain.
“I’m sorry,” Humphrey uttered quietly, voice thick with regret, “I thought it might make you happier to know that. To know it wasn’t his choice to leave.”
“It-it does,” the Captain admitted, using his hand to cover his eyes as his long buried confession fiercely urged to be spoken aloud, “I just-I miss him.”
“I know,” Humphrey softly agreed, “We need you Cap, you know that right? You’re our leader, you guide us and keep us safe. Without you, what are we supposed to do?”
“I-I thought you all hated me.”
It seemed now the confession about Havers was out, all the Captain’s fears were spilling out from him. Now that he knew Havers had wanted to stay with him, he suddenly didn’t feel so lonely. He didn’t feel like he was so revulsive, so worthless. Havers had thought he mattered, and that idea had now changed the Captain’s entire world view. Eighty years he’d spent, believing himself to have driven away the one man that cared. Eighty years, trying to bury the hurt, the self-loathing, the all-encompassing loneliness.
“We’ve never hated you Captain,” Humphrey’s voice broke through his thoughts once more, “We get frustrated by you, yes. But we all get frustrated with each other. Don’t tell me Thomas’ theatrics doesn’t drive you barmy? Or Fanny’s Holier-Than-Thou lectures? We all have negative points about ourselves, and we all have positives. And in a family, you learn the goods and the bads and you live with both.”
“-Family?” the one word caught in the Captain’s head, derailing his thoughts of Havers and the future they could have had. Cautiously removing his hand away from his face, the Captain stared in bewilderment at Humphrey’s head.
“Well of course, we’re a family, aren’t we?” Humphrey stated as if this were obvious, “We all live together and know each other, spend time together. Family?”
“E-even me?” the Captain queried, rubbing at the dried salty tracks on his cheeks.
“Well of course,” Humphrey replied without a moment’s hesitation, pausing as he considered the soldier for a moment before offering a small smile, “Now, if you’d be so kind, could you return me to the manor? It’ll be food club soon.”
“Yes-Yes, of course,” clambering to this feet, the Captain swiftly brushed the invisible dirt clinging to his uniform and clicked his knees back into order. Removing the last traces of his sorrow from his face, the Captain frowned as he considered how the others would respond should they see him arrive with his eyes so red – such clear evidence of his fragility.
“Can we take the long way round? I haven’t taken a tour of the grounds in centuries,” Humphrey innocently requested, causing a shy appreciative smile to curl at the Captain’s lips in response.
“I should think that would be a splendid idea Humphrey,” he agreed as he carefully lifted the man’s head into his arms, slowly beginning the journey back to Button House.
And as Humphrey audibly commented on the changes to the gardens and the height of the trees, the Captain’s thoughts drifted to a kind-hearted soldier and his soft sweet smile – and he felt his heart begin to mend.