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Maitland

'Maitland'
that was all
said plum toned, stiff lipped
no forename offered
and no proffered hand
it was all, he deemed, I would ever need to know
while his shirt whispered silkily
of distant London
and of Jermyn street
and without a pause
he detailed his requirements
in simple, clipped, efficient tones
preserved for the direction of the lower classes
and I was to ensure that delivery would be on Friday at one
and no later
then he turned and marched away
bemused, I turned to the counter and awaited the return of the shop assistant
with my wares
'Do you know a Maitland?' I asked her.

'Oh yes, the young master, he’s a twat!'