Call Me Betty

Mrs. Slocombe and Captain Peacock found themselves alone in the kitchen of the Manor. Usually the gang would be engaged in the hustle and bustle of breakfast. Today was unusual; even Mr. Moulterd was nowhere about. Mavis had not yet gotten up to start her chores. The house was still; Mrs. Slocombe and Captain Peacock shared a quiet cup of coffee. Bright morning sun streamed through the kitchen windows. The sounds of the animals scurrying about the barnyard created a background soundtrack. Captain Peacock reclined in his silk bathrobe and pajamas, leather house shoes on his feet. Mrs. Slocombe wore a teal satin dressing gown over her nightgown with matching slippers. Despite the early hour, her hair was impeccably coiffed.

Captain Peacock stretched his long legs out under the table. He took a sip of his coffee and set his cup down.

"Mrs. Slocombe," he began, "How long have we been here at Millstone Manor?"

She furrowed her eyebrows thoughtfully, "About four months, I'd say, Captain Peacock."

"Are you happy here?" he asked, toying with his spoon and serviette.

"Oh, yes, Captain Peacock, very much so! It reminds me of my days as a land girl during the war. This country air is so therapeutic."

She noted his expression of melancholy, "Aren't you happy here, Captain Peacock?"

"I am," he sighed, "but I find myself very lonely at times." He glanced out the window.

"In a house full of people and guests, however can you be lonely?" she raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"At night. When all is quiet, I lie in bed wide-awake. The silence is deafening. Sometimes when I can't sleep, I come down to the lounge and read in front of the fire until I fall asleep with exhaustion," he explained in a quiet voice. His face was serious, his lips pursed tightly.

"Just what are you getting at?" she asked, feeling him out.

"Mrs. Slocombe, how long have we known each other?"

"Oh, I'd say at least 30 years, give or take."

He reached for her hand, studying her face, and seeking her eyes. His eyes locked on hers pleadingly. She looked away for a moment, uncomfortably. He rested his hand on top of hers and her heart skipped a beat.

"We're not strangers, then, are we?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"No. I would say we are not."

"Mrs. Slocombe," he began.

She raised her hand to interrupt him, "Betty. You may call me Betty," she smiled gently.

He cleared his throat, "Betty. We're not getting any younger. I don't want to spend the remainder of my days alone. I've been miserably lonely since Mrs. Peacock died ten years ago…"

"Cut to the chase, Captain Peacock," she said dryly.

"Stephen. Please call me Stephen…" he requested.

"Alright. Stephen. I'm not getting any younger either!" she stated pointedly.

He slid off his chair to the floor and knelt on one knee, still holding her hand.

He drew in a deep breath, his stomach doing flip-flops, and beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Betty, would you marry me?"

"What? Just like that? No courtship?" she asked incredulously.

"We've been together here for four months; it's almost like a courtship," he reasoned.

"How do I know I'll like you like that? Have you thought this through?""

"I have given this a lot of consideration. We've worked together for over twenty years at Grace Brothers and seemed to get along fine. That has to count for something."

"I thought you were keen on Miss Lovelock," she asked, eyeing him.

"She found out I haven't any money and she went right off me," he said sadly, his eyes soft and locked in on hers.

"You're not going to expect me to wait on you hand and foot, are you?" she narrowed her eyes.

"No. I'm really interested in companionship."

"We can have that without being married," she said pointedly, nodded for emphasis, and sipped her coffee.

"Betty, when the lights go out, I want to still be with you. The nights here are so incredibly lonely," he sighed.

"Is that all you're interested in? Get up!" she snapped angrily.

"No, that's not it at all!" he defended, his heart sinking, "When we get those big country storms, I can hear you crying and I want to hold you in my arms. When it's quiet and I'm alone with my thoughts, I want to talk to you. When it's cold, I want to snuggle with you under the quilt. I am so very envious of Mr. Humphries having Mavis to bunk in with. Since coming to live here, I've become increasingly lonelier. When I worked, I didn't notice it as much because I stayed busy."

He was so exposed and vulnerable. He implored her with his eyes. The corners of his mouth curved into a tight sad smile. His heart thumped in anticipation of her next words. She considered his words and thought about how nice it would be to have someone to hold her during a storm.

"And…I do have a rather large bathtub all to myself!" he quipped, his eyes dancing.

She playfully slapped his arm, "I knew there was more to it!"

He drew back and chuckled, catching her hand in his, "And when Mr. Moulterd tries to reminisce about his 'war stories' involving you and him, I can tell him to shut up, because you are my wife…"

She smiled warmly at that thought.

She motioned to him to lean in closer so she could speak in a whisper, "All of his 'war stories' are machinations. I never did anything what he's always implying. Just a little canoodling, nothing more! The same as when we had our little thing back in 1965."

His face lit up at the memory, "You don't owe me an explanation," he shook his head.

"Captain Peacock, I don't know if I can marry you. There's my pussy to consider. Tiddles has never had a daddy. She doesn't take too kindly to strangers; I'm not sure how she will adapt to a step-father!"

He laughed to himself and shook his head.

The din of voices and footsteps indicated that the others had risen and were heading down to the kitchen for breakfast. Captain Peacock and Mrs. Slocombe swiveled their heads toward the back stairway and the direction of the noise. The moment was broken. He quickly leaned over and gently pecked her cheek, his moustache tickling her. She delighted in the fragrance of his after-shave.

"Think about it, Betty," he whispered as he exited the kitchen and took the stairs up to his room.

Mrs. Slocombe turned her head and followed him with her eyes. She sat there silently drinking her coffee as the staff assembled at the table for breakfast.