31 Plays in 31 Days: #2 - "Like a Loss"

So I am doing it. I am giving you all the first-ever first person look at the most speculated-upon character in the Mrs. Hawking universe, the late Colonel Reginald Prescott Hawking. I am not sure, in the grand scheme of the story, if it's better to always leave you guessing about him or if your desire to know more about him should be fulfilled, but for scribbling purposes it's all right.

One big question regarding the Hawkings' relationship is how they interacted given the huge amount of silence, secrecy, and distance between them, and the one-sided nature of the affection. It's a little hard for me to conceive of, as it's tough to imagine how little talking and communication there would have to be to allow that, but this scene is my attempt to show a bit of how it might have been. I may decide later this is not entirely canon, but it's a stab at figuring it out.

Also, I've been watching Downton Abbey so this sort of master-servant relationship is in my head right now. I think, after the Colonel's death, Mrs. Hawking got rid of Chapman so fast it made his head spin. Which did nothing to improve his opinion of her. I think he works for Nathaniel or maybe Ambrose or Justin now, but he's still bitter.

This is somewhat spoilery for Mrs. Hawking.

Day #2 - "Like a Loss"

THE COLONEL, Reginald Prescott Hawking, mid-thirties
CHAPMAN, his batman and valet, early thirties

~~~

(CHAPMAN sits in the dressing room, brushing a top hat. He stands when his master THE COLONEL enters.)

THE COLONEL: Evening, Chapman.

CHAPMAN: Good evening, sir.

THE COLONEL: I think I’ll turn in now.

CHAPMAN: Very good, sir.

(He takes THE COLONEL’s tailcoat and helps him undress.)

CHAPMAN: If I might ask… any better today, sir?

THE COLONEL: Much the same, really.

CHAPMAN: I’m sorry to hear it.

THE COLONEL: I expect it shall be for some time now.

(CHAPMAN makes a face as he assists THE COLONEL.)

THE COLONEL: I know that look.

CHAPMAN: What look, sir?

THE COLONEL: Come off it, now.

CHAPMAN: It’s not my place to say, sir.

THE COLONEL: Perhaps not, but you needn’t say at all. I know you don’t approve of her.

CHAPMAN: Sir! I would never presume—

THE COLONEL: Of course, of course. But you can’t pretend to me that you like her.

CHAPMAN: Forgive me, Colonel.

THE COLONEL: For what? You’re not required to. Still. You’ll not judge her for this.

CHAPMAN: It’s not that, sir. Not precisely.

THE COLONEL: After that, she can do whatever she damn well likes.

CHAPMAN: It’s only… what about you, sir?

THE COLONEL: What about me?

CHAPMAN: He was your son, too.

(THE COLONEL tenses and turns away. CHAPMAN is chagrined.)

CHAPMAN: Forgive me, sir. I shouldn’t speak of it.

(Pause.)

THE COLONEL: I don’t know why it should hit me so hard. These things happen all the time. To some people, over and over again. Nothing to be done.

CHAPMAN: It’s normal to mourn a loss.

THE COLONEL: Strange, though, to call it that. We never really had him to lose, did we?

CHAPMAN: Still. It feels a loss, to you.

THE COLONEL: That’s just it, Chapman. If it feels a loss to me… what must it be to her? She would have been his mother, for God’s sake. If I feel like… like this… what must it be like for her?

(Pause.)

THE COLONEL: Tell me, Chapman, how can I ask anything of her now?

(He pulls on his robe.)

THE COLONEL: That’ll be all now, old boy.

(CHAPMAN bows and exits, leaving THE COLONEL there alone.)