Lieutenant O’Brien

Another officer, lieutenant O’Brien, was tall, good looking, well built and smoked a pipe. He was in his late 30s and had a reflective, deep look, like he was trying to find the answer to something like “Why am I such a prick?”
He dressed immaculate and always wore his pigskin gloves, hail, rain or shine, and treated his subordinates with arrogance and distain. He gave the impression that he shouldn’t be among this riff-raff, that nothing or nobody was good enough for him, and they should throw themselves on the ground when he arrived.
He drove a two tone Austin Princess Vanden Plas with leather seats, wood veneer and all the extras. This was a special edition signed personally by The Queen herself.
He was a Prince and was doing us – peasants – a favour with his very presence, and was probably wondering why the hell he was here. He had an air of distain and sometimes gave the impression that the oxygen wasn’t good enough for him, and he spoke in a slow modulated voice with a measured response, like he was dealing with the finer points of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity and hoping to throw new light on the subject.