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"What time is it, Jeeves?"
"Nine thirty, sir."
"Good lord! Is the flat on fire?"
"Not to my knowledge, sir."
Wait up! Scratch that. Right out of the starting blocks and I've gone wrong.
It's a common enough mistake. Imagine you're telling a really ripping anecdote, you want to jump right to the payoff, it's only natural, but if you don't set the thing up first the whole lot falls flat. It brings to mind Barmy and his story about the vicar and chorus girl. Well, all the fellows at the Drones were gathered round and in the excitement he slips straight to the bit where the vicar fumbles the water jug without explaining why they're locked in the parlour.
The whole lot doesn't make a dashed bit of sense!
Well, this is like that, only there aren't any chorus girls. Or vicars, come to think of it.
All had been looking up for Bertram. There were no policemen after me, no women insisting they marry me, no aunts pulling the strings in background. In fact there was but one blot on the landscape of Bertram Wooster's life: Jeeves was decidedly miffed with the young master. As blots went it was substantial.
It started with the buying of a really rather spiffing pink tie. The whys and wherefores aren't of much importance, suffice to say had you spotted this particular tie you would have undoubtedly snapped it up yourself. The one thing I hadn't reckoned on was Jeeves.
Now there's many a man's valet who will keep to himself any opinions he has on his employer's wardrobe; such is not the case with Jeeves. I detected a certain coolness from the man when he spotted the tie which put to pay my hopes of a positive reception. Conditions got worse and things became positively arctic when I informed Jeeves that not only would the tie be remaining, but that I also intended to wear it out to lunch.
A look of consternation seemed to pass across his face but I held firm.
SELF: Something amiss with the tie, Jeeves?
JEEVES: I would think it unsuitable, sir.
SELF: Nonsense!
JEEVES: It is perhaps a little bright, sir.
SELF: Cheery, I thought.
JEEVES: One could go as far as to say garish, sir.
Well, to say I was shocked would be an understatement in the extreme. I simply could not believe it! Jeeves had always made his opinions vis-à-vis the old sartorial embellishments clear, but to go as far as to call another man's neck-wear garish, well there are limits.
I left before words were exchanged that could not be unexchanged.
Which explains how I found myself having a spot of lunch with Freddie that day, that's Frederick Eugene Chapsworth of the Devon Chapsworths for those who might be acquainted with one or more of the numerous Freddies that seem to clutter up the place. Most days at the Drones you can't throw a bread roll without hitting a Freddie of some sort or other. This Freddie, the one I was lunching with, is a solid enough cove in most circs. That day, however, he seemed off and he behaved very much in the manner of a man who not only has to face the gallows shortly but has just been told that it's the chefs night off and it's tinned beans for his last meal. It is not an attitude one looks for in a dinner companion.
He sighed and looked up as if just remembering he was eating with company.
"Nice tie, Bertie."
Not much of a conversational opening but my feelings for Freddie softened considerably. "You think so? I picked it up in the Burlington Arcade."
Silence reasserted itself and he sighed so deeply I worried briefly that he might take a header into the soup.
"Not ill are you, Freddie?"
"No, not ill, Bertie."
"Ah, affairs of the heart, what?" I said knowledgeably. I recognised all the signs; there's nothing like love and its troubles to put a decent chap off his feed.
"The thing is, Bertie, I've got myself into a spot of bother."
"I'm all ears, old chap."
"Oh, good." He started to push a bread roll around his plate. This was not the expected attitude of a man who has just been told he can unburden his troubles into a willing ear.
"I don't want to trouble you, Bertie."
"Nonsense, trouble away, I say."
"That's to say, I thought your chap Jeeves might be able to give it the old one two and offer some idea on proceedings."
Well, didn't that just beat all. Just when I'm on the out with Jeeves suddenly everyone wants to talk to him. What was Bertram Wooster, I asked myself, chopped liver?
"No, no," I insisted, "I'll give it a going over first before we lay the problem at Jeeves' door." Not that I believed he would turn away a chap in need, but I thought it best to let Jeeves cool down and think about his error before I started making demands of the man.
"If you think it best."
"Oh, undoubtedly. So what's her name?"
"Simon," he sighed, "Simon Lancer."
"Simon? Dashed odd name for a girl," I replied. "Then tend to be Nickies and Bobbies and Georgies and other things ending in 'ee'. Don't think I've ever met a Simon."
"He's not a girl, Bertie."
"Oh? Oh! Oh." Not my most eloquent, I admit.
"Yes," Freddie replied, "that's the way things stand."
"Simon Lancer, you say?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't ring a bell. Harrow man?"
"Does it matter?"
"I suppose not, old chap. Just trying to get a handle on the thing."
"Things are getting a bit tight with his uncle you see, and I'd be in hot water if he found out." He started worrying the bread roll unduly. "It's a lost cause, Bertie, isn't it?"
"Not a bit of it, Freddie, not a bit of it. I shall apply myself to the problem immediately and I dare say I'll come up with something."
"And Jeeves?"
"Very well, and Jeeves, if you really insist."
As I made my way home I mused upon the situation and it seemed to me that Freddie's dilemma was exactly what was called for. I could let Jeeves cogitate on the problem, hopefully putting to the back of that considerable mind any lingering animosity towards the tie. A plan that would no doubt have impressed Jeeves himself, were the man feeling more kindly to his employer.
It was a delicate situation, and all that, and would need a degree of discretion. Not that I thought Jeeves the type to demand money with menaces.
"Jeeves, my good man," I began has he poured the first brandy and soda of the day.
"Sir?"
"There's this chap, Jeeves. Not a chap you know. A friend, you understand?"
There was a pause as Jeeves digested the information.
"I believe I follow so far, sir."
"Well, this chap, the chap you don't know, has got himself into a spot of bother."
"Sir."
"With a young man."
Another pause.
"It is irregular but not unheard of, sir."
"You approve?"
He paused again, only you could have parked a couple of elephants in this one.
"I do not disapprove."
"Excellent because we're, that is to say my friend and his friend, what, are rather up a gum tree with this one. Uncle about to stick his oar in and the like. Any thoughts?"
"It would depend if the, mmh, gentleman in question was desirous of retaining his acquaintance with the young man."
Here I was at loss. In my enthusiasm to help Freddie I'd neglected to get all the key facts of the case. "Well," I began, drawing the word out for long enough to let me think, "I don't know about that."
Jeeves straightened his back, which is no small feat considering the chap is no slouch to begin with, and there spread between us an uncomfortable silence. I couldn't help feeling that I had perhaps gone wrong.
"I don't believe I can help, ahem, your friend, sir."
I was stunned. "I'm stunned, Jeeves."
"I'm sorry, sir, but that does not change the situation."
"Well!"
Jeeves said nothing.
"Well," I tried again.
Not even a raised eyebrow.
"Well... you were wrong about the tie!"
I could tell it wounded him.
The rest of the afternoon was uncomfortable to say the least and it was with no small measure of relief that I left for dinner. When I returned Jeeves had secreted himself away somewhere and it seemed to me that harmony could not be restored that evening. Finding myself at rather a loss I retired to bed. All would undoubtedly seem better in the morning.
The morning, in my opinion, is best approach slowly and from the comfort of one's bed and in this respect Jeeves has hitherto always been a marvel. He has the uncanny knack of knowing just when I've regained a suitable amount of consciousness to be fit for civilised conversation and arrives precisely two minutes after that with a fresh cup of tea. So it was with some shock that I found myself being woken at some unearthly hour, the tea conspicuous by it absence.
"What time is it, Jeeves?"
"Nine thirty, sir."
"Good lord! Is the flat on fire?"
"Not to my knowledge, sir."
"Then is there some other reason to explain why you felt compelled to wake me at such an unreasonable hour, Jeeves?"
"You have a telegram, sir."
"That's it?"
"Sir?"
"I would have imagined that a telegram could have waited until breakfast, Jeeves."
"It is an urgent telegram, sir."
"Very well," I relented, "what does say, Jeeves?"
"I couldn't possibly say, sir, as I have not read it."
"Well dash it all, man. How do you know it's urgent?"
"Lady Travers informed me of such when she telephoned, sir. She was most emphatic on the subject."
That an aunt has been making early morning telephone calls and sending off urgent telegrams is not something a nephew wants to hear, especially before he's had his morning tea.
"Well hand it over, Jeeves." I steeled myself and read.
-ANATOLE THREATENING TO LEAVE. ALL YOUR FAULT. FIX IT OR ELSE. TRAVERS-
"Well this must be some sort mistake, Jeeves."
"Lady Travers was most unequivocal on the telephone, sir."
"Well I can't see what I can have done. I haven't been to Brinkley in a month and all was rosy when I left."
"Indeed, though it would seem that something has transpired in the intervening time, sir."
"That can hardly be my fault, Jeeves. No, I insist that this must be some error on Aunt Dahlia's part, the consequences of age, no doubt. Be a good man and fetch the telegram pad."
"I anticipated its need and have it with me, sir."
"Excellent, take this down: -SOME MISTAKE. BERTRAM NOT AT FAULT. ALL THE BEST. WOOSTER.- That should settle things, Jeeves."
"As you say, sir. I shall have it sent directly."
"Good-o."
I settled down once more, having instructed Jeeves to take the 'phone off the hook. It was not more than half an hour, I noted, before a reply arrived.
-WHAT ROT. TRAVERS-
"Well this is no clearer than the first, Jeeves."
-YOU SAY WHAT ROT. WHAT IS SUCH ROT SAY I. WOOSTER-
The next telegram came when I was half way through breakfast.
-YOU ARE AN IMBECILE WOOSTER. MADELINE BASSET HERE. ENGAGEMENT OFF. VERY ANNOYING. FIX. TRAVERS.-
"I say! The curse of vegetarianism, you think, Jeeves?" I asked. I should note here, for those who haven't kept up with the comings and going of the society pages, that Madeline Basset had previously let Gussie Fink-Nottle, England's foremost newt fancier, slip from the matrimonial grasp over complications arising from a proposed meat free existence.
"I couldn't comment, sir."
"It calls for a brandy and s. in any case, I'd say."
"Indeed, sir," Jeeves replied, a touch dryly, as though he thought my idea wasn't all that top hole but the old feudal spirit was stopping him being out right impertinent about it. I would have said something, but it's best to practice patience with a chap if he's pouring you a drink.
"I thought the Basset girl had been squared away with Spode." Roderick Spode, Earl of Sidcup, a chap I could do without.
"It would seem not, sir."
Jeeves didn't seem to have grasped the import of the situation. "Jeeves, my good man, you don't seem to have grasped the import of the situation."
"Indeed, sir?"
The man was being deliberately obtuse now.
The thing was the continued happiness of yours truly relied rather heavily on Madeline Basset being engaged to someone else. I had no desire to get married, you see. Not that anyone ever seemed particularly keen to consult me on the subject.
I finished my drink. "Jeeves, pack my bag."
There was nothing for it but to toddle down to Brinkley and remedy the situation in person.
"Very good. I've taken the liberty of laying out our light tweed, sir."
"Thank you, Jeeves. And the new tie?"
"Sir-"
"A tie of this quality should not be kept to oneself, Jeeves."
The man looked positively pained.
"Perhaps our maroon, sir?"
"No, no, Jeeves. The pink it is."
"Are you sure, sir?"
I steeled myself. "I'm sure, Jeeves."
"Might I remind you, sir, that what passes in London may well be frowned upon in the country."
"You can't sway me, I'm afraid, Jeeves."
"Very good, sir," said Jeeves in a tone that made it quite clear that it was anything but.
It was quiet drive to Brinkley.
As Jeeves made his way off with the luggage and disappeared into the house I spotted Angella.
"What ho, Angella."
"Oh, hello Bertie."
"You and Tuppy well?" My cousin Angella was engaged, and had been for some time, to an old school chum of mine.
"I don't want to talk about Glossop, Bertie."
"I say Angella, what's old Tuppy done now?"
"He's a brute, Bertie, an absolute brute."
Things were worse than I had anticipated.
"He was dreadfully cruel to dear Madeline."
I made sympathetic noises. Tuppy would never be an expert on the female psyche and was, in my opinion, best kept away from the soppier examples of the breed, of which Madeline Basset was one of the soppiest. He was a fine fellow to have in your scrum half, by all accounts, but this was rarely of use when it came to dealing with women. Good egg and old school chum that he was, he would not be the man to turn to for a friendly ear and sturdy shoulder to cry on.
Angella looked past me to some shrubbery or other near, the corner of the house.
"And as if that wasn't enough, Bertie," she said loudly and with great significance, "he revealed himself as the cad he truly is!"
"Angella?!"
"I'll tell mother you're here, Bertie."
And just like that she'd biffed off.
No sooner had Angella gone than I was accosted by the very Glossop we'd been discussing.
"Hello, Tuppy."
"Never mind all that, what did Angella say?"
"Oh, this and that. The general greetings between cousins."
"What did she say about me?"
"I couldn't say, Tuppy."
"Come on, Bertie, I heard..." He trailed off.
"Wait. Were you hiding in the shrubbery? I have say that's not exactly cricket, Tuppy, sneaking around in the undergrowth."
"I was not sneaking about, Bertie. I just happened to to be taking a walk..."
"Through the shrubbery."
"Through the shrubb- no! Look, did she say anything about me? I need to know where I stand, Bertie."
I decided to keep the brutish comments to myself. "She did hint at troubles between the two of you. Something about you upsetting Madeline," I hedged.
"Oh that? I might have said something about how she was best out of it now the engagement was off."
While I had to agree with the sentiment I could see how the delivery might have fallen flat with a girl whose fixture had just been scratched.
"Ticked Angella off, no end. Said I had the compassion of a toad. A toad, Bertie! A man shouldn't have to put up with that kind of thing, not from the women he loves."
"Dashed rummy," I replied soothingly. Silently siding with Angella on the comparison.
"I know. Anyway I listened to the girl drone on, a soothing word here a comforting noise there. A shoulder to cry on, all that bunk. Well, would you believe it, that just annoyed Angella more."
"I would imagine," said Jeeves after I'd relaid the gist of the conversation, "that Miss Travers had not expected Mr. Glossop to be quite so amenable to her request."
I paused and let that sink in. "I don't think you can have that right, Jeeves. She was the one who ask him to do it."
"Indeed, sir. However she had probably not anticipated the gusto with which Mr. Glossop would take to the task, it is possible that she mistook his attempts to return to her good graces as a developing affection for Miss Basset. Miss Travers no doubt found such events disturbing but was unable to bring herself to ask Mr. Glossop to stop."
"Well, that's a bit thick, Jeeves."
"Sir."
Before I could ask if Jeeves could see any solution to this growing rift, the conversation was interrupted by a knock at door. It turned out to be Aunt Dahlia. She fixed me with a look that would have quelled a nephew at fifty paces, let alone one in the same room, before she turned politely to Jeeves.
"Could I have a word in private with your employer, Jeeves?"
"Of course, your Ladyship," he replied. Slipping from the room without so much as a backwards glance.
"What are you doing here, young blot?"
Not the most cordial of greetings, especial from someone who's interrupted your plans and demanded your immediate presence.
"You told me to come."
"I told you to sort it, not to come here and make things worse."
"I've only just got here."
"Well, you can just leave again," replied Aunt Dahlia, "and take Madeline Basset with you."
"What?!"
"I can't have unattached fiancées flapping about, cluttering up the place, Bertie."
"Really, Aunt Dahlia, I can't-"
"Oh, do shut up, you poop."
"Well, I-"
"Things are at a delicate stage in the negotiations, my fat headed nephew. I can't have people, vegetarians no less, wandering around willy nilly making demands on my chef."
I opened my mouth but I was cut off before I could even start.
"I can't risk Tom's digestion. Not on the likes of you, Bertie."
I held my tongue in case the aunt had not done with the chastising of old Bertram. This led to a goodish pause in the proceedings which did not noticeably improve the situation.
"May I say something?"
"Oh, don't be such an ass."
Deciding that discretion was the better part of whatsit I ignored the comment and continued: "I'm in the very process of sorting it out, my dearest aunt, the old brain matter is already working."
"Bertie," she said calmly, and for a moment I thought all was forgiven. "You're not helping, you blighter, you're hiding in your room."
No one can say us Woosters are cowards; it was with this in mind that I went to throw myself to the proverbial.
I found Madeline alone in the drawing room.
"Bertie?"
I summoned a good proportion of my considerable charm and began. "There, there, old thing. Thought you might need cheering up, what?"
She focused a pair of large watery eyes on me. "Oh Bertie! You understand me so well."
Before I could disagree and disabuse her of the notion that I understood a dashed thing about Madeline Basset she uttered words that struck fear into the very heart of Bertram Wooster:
"I can't think why I turned you down before."
"You can't?" I goggled.
"You're always so kind."
"I am?"
"Oh Bertie, you do know how to make me laugh!"
"I do?" The situation was rapidly getting away from me.
"See here, Madeline, I was thinking about this thing with Spode, and well, I need to say..." Only I couldn't think of a dashed thing I wanted to say, the old brain had rather left me hanging at the crucial moment. "The thing is..."
"Oh, yes Bertie," she gushed dramatically, "yes!"
"Um?"
"You didn't think I'd turn you down again, did you silly?"
"Oh." I was at a loss. When a girl thinks you've come to her rescue and proposed you can't very well turn around and tell her she's got the wrong end of the stick. "Jolly good."
We sat together for awhile before Madeline excused herself, no doubt to spread the joyous news, and I made a break for it through the french windows only to step right into Tuppy Glossop. The man was apparently working his way through a plate of sandwiches as he waited around in the herbaceous borders.
"What happened to you, Wooster?" he asked, handing me the plate as he peered through the bushes.
"I got engaged," I confided.
"What? Not to that Basset creature?!"
"I say, Tuppy, you really can't go around calling other men's fiancées creatures."
"You're not actually keen on her, are you?"
"Well, no, but I'm not sure that matters. There are standards, you know, old man."
"Blow standards, she's a nightmare. Spent an hour yesterday talking to me about bunnies, or fairies, or fairy bunnies, some such rot anyway."
"At least my fiancée is talking to me."
It was a cruel thing to say to any man, I realised, regretting it once. Not least because Tuppy's face had turned red and he'd started puffing himself up, staring at me wide eyed. I couldn't help thinking about toads.
"You, you..."
"Now, Tuppy old man, keep calm. Words spoken in haste and all that."
He was having none of it and advanced towards me, necessitating a rather hasty retreat on my part.
"You rotter, Wooster! Come back here, you worm!"
Thinking that Tuppy was unlikely to have my best interest at heart I ignored him and put on a burst of speed. Now, in a straight hundred yard dash most would put their money on Tuppy Glossop rather than Bertie Wooster. I'd never been particular adept at such things, even when I wasn't handicapped by a plate of sandwiches, whereas Tuppy had a look of the outdoor pursuits about him. What you wouldn't realise, and Tuppy hadn't noticed, was that I didn't need to keep it up the whole distance. The front door was open, you see, and I could just make it to the door before Tuppy could make it to me.
"I can't stand you, Wooster," he shouted as I shut the thing in his face, "or that stupid little tie of yours!"
The chap was in a state of distress and lashing out unthinkingly at the nearest, and most undeserving, targets. Out of feeling for a chap suffering at the hands of his intended I let it slide. Though I made sure to lock the door securely before he could follow me in.
"Tuppy, old top," I called out kindly, "put a lid on it!"
"Ahem."
"What ho, Seppings," I greeted the butler. He'd performed one of those tricks peculiar to butlers and valets, seemingly appearing out of thin air as they do. "Couldn't keep this door locked, could you? Travelling salesmen, you know."
"Very good, Mr. Wooster."
I didn't hang about and legged it as soon as circs. would allow.
It was a case of out of the frying pan into the fire:
"What ho, Madeline."
"What have you got there, Bertie?" Madeline asked, looking at the plate I was still clutching.
"Sandwiches," I replied, thinking it obvious. Only they were ham sandwiches I realised, and just like that I hit upon a scheme.
I put the plate down on the table significantly.
"I brought you a spot of lunch, what," I said in the hopes the ham would put Madeline off the match, the flesh of the beast slain in anger and all that.
"Oh, Bertie. You're so sweet!" She ignored the food and fixed her sights squarely on me.
"Sure you wouldn't like a sandwich?" I prompted.
"No thank you, Bertie."
"Really?"
Thinking on my feet I picked one up myself. I devoured the thing, and made an enthusiastic start on a second, as if to say: look here, never before has a man enjoyed a ham sandwich more. I wasn't hungry in the least but had you seen me you would have thought I hadn't eaten in days, such was the appreciation I lavished on those sandwiches. Having managed to stuff about four of the blasted things down my throat I paused for breath and tried to gauge Madeline's reaction.
"You don't look after yourself, Bertie. When we're married I shall make sure you eat properly, my poor bunnykins."
Disheartened, and a little queasy, I retired to my room and rang for Jeeves.
"Have you heard, Jeeves?"
"The news of your engagement had reached the servant quarters, sir."
"I thought she'd struck upon the idea that I was somewhat mentally unhinged, what?"
"I believe Miss Basset is under the impression that love conquers all, sir," Jeeves replied with all the urgency usually ascribed to a comment on the weather.
I reckoned the chap was still put out about the business surrounding the tie.
"The young lady has determined that the supposed force of your feelings for one another should be enough to counter any problems."
"But I don't have any feelings for her, couldn't give a fig for her, Jeeves!"
"I am aware of that, sir."
"Well, that's all very good, but what to do?" I asked, hoping Jeeves would provide some sort of dashed cunning solution and get old Bertram out of the matrimonial hole.
"It is a dilemma. I dare say Lady Travers would not consider the sacrifice of your bachelorhood an unduly high price in order to placate the chef Anatole, sir."
"Don't I know it, Jeeves. The aged A would marry me off like a shot if she thought it would keep old Anatole happy."
"It may not come to that, however, sir."
"Tell me you've been cogitating on the matter, Jeeves."
"Indeed. There is one thing that may work to our advantage, sir."
"Well expound away, Jeeves, before your employer is condemned to a lifetime of fairy tea parties and baby bunnykins."
"I have learnt that Lord Sidcup is due to arrive at some point this afternoon, sir."
"Spode, coming here?"
"Indeed, sir."
"If anything that makes things decidedly worse, Jeeves!"
"That is why I would suggest we leave, sir."
"That's it?" This was not, in my mind, up to the usual standard.
"Yes, sir."
It was my shortest stay at Brinkley Court to date.
I don't know what it was, perhaps the kippers I'd had for breakfast allowed a superior level of cogitation, but I was struck by a thought.
"Jeeves?" I asked as I drove us back to London. "How did you know old Spode was going to turn up?"
"I took the liberty of telephoning Lord Sidcup and informing his Lordship of recent events, sir."
"Jeeves!"
"I believed that if Lord Sidcup became aware that he had lost Miss Basset's affections in favour of you that he might be inclined to rethink his position, and once again be warmed towards matrimony."
"The jealousy lark, eh?"
"I was working with that assumption, sir. I imagine that the arrival of the Earl will prompt Miss Basset to reconcile with his Lordship and the departure of both Miss Basset and yourself from Brinkley Court will no doubt alleviate the stress on Anatole the chef and once again restore harmony to Mr Glossop and Miss Traver."
"You thought up all that, Jeeves? Even though you were cheesed with me?"
"Sir."
"Well, jolly good show, Jeeves."
Someone who can put aside a not inconsiderable loathing for a chaps cravat to help said chap out of a hole, well that's the someone for me.
It was later, settled once again in my own home, that I thought more on the subject. Once an idea is embedded in the old bean it can be rather hard to dislodge.
You see, the recommended dose of Betrum Wooster seemed to be set at a few days for most, but in Jeeves there was a man who could handle a indefinite period without batting an eye. It's that kind of thing that softens the heart. The more I thought the more a steady chap one could rely on seemed preferable to some flighty young thing who's liable to go off the deep end at the mention of a dropped hat. I wouldn't be opposed, I realised, to greeting Jeeves every morning over the egg and bacon for the rest of my life. I thought on what the rest of that life might involve.
It can be rather a shock to the system to realise one is enamoured, as it were, with one's valet. I finished my drink and rang the bell.
"Another brandy, Jeeves."
"Very good, sir."
Deciding that there was no point in denying my feelings I instead invested my energies into advancing the proposed courtship. I couldn't very well stand around making comments on the brilliance of stars, and flowers, and what not. While that kind of thing are a hit with the fairer sex I didn't think they would go down so well with a chap like Jeeves.
The kicker in the whole thing being I couldn't very well ask the man himself for advice on the situation. It made things dashed complicated.
"Telegram, sir," Jeeves announced, having materialised at my side.
Could it be that Jeeves' plan had unravelled? Could Madeline or Aunt Dahlia or Tuppy be pursuing me across the country at that very moment, baying for a piece of Bertram Wooster?
-HAVEN'T HEARD FROM YOU. WHAT DOES JEEVES RECOMMEND. DO NOT WANT LOSE HIM. CHAPSWORTH.
I had completely forgotten about Freddie.
"No reply, Jeeves."
"Very good, sir."
I put the telegram to one side and considered the matter. I didn't have the heart to tell the poor blighter that Jeeves had put the kibosh on any planning at his end, and that he was left with the services of yours truly. A man who couldn't pluck up the courage to make his own feelings plain.
It was all a bit thick. As I have said, us Woosters aren't cowards. This Wooster might not be as keen on the ladies as the rest, but he was still no coward. It was time for an offensive.
I followed Jeeves into the old domestic lair, paths less travelled and what not.
"Can I help you sir?"
"I thought I'd make a spot of tea."
"Sir?"
"Can't a chap make a cup of tea for another chap?" I asked.
Jeeves looked at me like dismay. "I can brew some you some tea, sir," he said.
"I don't want any tea, Jeeves."
"I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."
"I can't very well ask you to make a cup of tea for yourself, can I, Jeeves. That would be nonsense."
Having been dismissed from my own kitchen I decided on another tack.
"I believe it was Samuel Taylor Coleridge," I began when Jeeves finally entered the room. "Are you listening, Jeeves?"
"Sir?"
"I said: I believe it was Samuel Taylor Coleridge."
"What was, sir?"
"I'm getting to that bit, Jeeves. Anyway. I believe it was Samuel Taylor Coleridge who wrote: He is not fair to outward view, as many er, may, er, be, her, I mean his, loveliness I never knew, until he smiled on me, then it goes on a bit in the middle, tum de tum de tum de da, her very frowns are fairer far, than smiles of other maidens are."
"Hartley Coleridge, sir."
"Pardon?"
"I believe it was Hartley Coleridge who penned the particular poem you are referring to. Samuel Taylor Coleridge was his father."
"I knew it some Coleridge or other."
"Indeed, sir."
"Anyway, that's not the point."
"No, sir?"
"Can't you see what I'm getting at, Jeeves?"
"I'm afraid not, sir," Jeeves replied before dismissing himself.
I brooded on my lack of success. It haunted me. Dinner was a dismal affair, the evening even worse. There was only one thing for it. It was time for the direct approach.
As with any young man who intends to make his intentions known I knocked back some of the hard stuff in preparation.
"Jeeves," I said as I removed my jacket in readiness for bed.
"Sir?"
"I don't know if you'd noticed, Jeeves, but I've been trying to hint at something today."
"The thought had crossed my mind, sir."
"The thing is, Jeeves, what I've trying to drive at. Well, if you were a girl, Jeeves, and I know you're not, but if you were, I'd be down on my knee for this bit. If you see what I'm getting at?"
"I had my suspisions, sir."
"Well why didn't you say anything?"
"While I was flattered, sir, I do not think it would be going too far to say that you have a reputation for ill advised entanglements."
"Reputation, Jeeves?" I was unsettled by the course the conversation was taking. "Nonsense."
"If I recall correctly you have been engaged to Miss Basset on three separate occasions."
"Really? Three?"
"Sir."
I was in danger of being sidetracked. "Well, not my fault, Jeeves."
"Perhaps, sir. However you proposed-"
I cut the man off with a quick, "Now now, Jeeves," and fixed him with look brimming with earnestness that would assuage the most ardent of fears. "Mere dalliances of youth, my man."
"Precisely, sir."
I was shocked. "'Precisely'? Not 'precisely', Jeeves. Most emphatically not 'precisely'."
"I'm not sure I follow, sir?"
"You most certainly do not follow, Jeeves."
He paused in the folding of my shirt.
"Am I to take it the situation with the young man has been successfully resolved, sir?"
"What young man, Jeeves? I've never met the chap."
"I was under the impression that you had an understanding with a young man whose uncle was beginning to cause problems."
"I'm afraid you've been barking up the wrong leg, Jeeves."
"I apologise if that is the case, sir."
"That's Chapsworth's chap, I was making enquiries on his behalf, Jeeves. I don't have an understanding with any young men, regardless of uncles."
"I must apologise once more. I had believed you were playing fast and loose, as it is known in common parlance, with the young man's affections, sir."
"I wasn't, nor was Freddie. Devoted to the man," I added as if I'd been aware of the fact all along."
"I understand, sir."
"So you thought his chap was my chap and the whole thing gave you the pip, what?"
"A masterly summation of events, sir," he replied before turning his attention to the wardrobe once more.
"Not like you to add two and two together and get five, Jeeves."
"Indeed not, sir."
"And on the other matter?"
Jeeves stilled for a moment before closing the wardrobe door.
"I am not adverse to the proposal on principle, sir."
And that would have been that. Jeeves would have retired for the night and I would have tucked myself up in bed. The morning would have been an awkward affair, the momentum lost, doubts setting in; had I not fortified myself with a couple of stiff drinks beforehand.
As it was I took Jeeves' pronouncement as an invitation and kissed him.
I had meant it as a promise, but having kissed him once I was compelled to repeat the process. As I tried to moved away Jeeves seemed to follow me and the two of us tumbled onto the bed.
I should perhaps draw a discreet veil over what followed, but I find myself compelled to give an account of when a gentleman's personal gentleman becomes considerable more personal.
Jeeves, it transpired, had me at a disadvantage. He was fully dressed, whereas by that point I was in my undergarments, having been readying for bed just moments before. I had not, in all honestly, anticipated the company.
Naturally I tried to address the imbalance, but there seemed to be far more buttons than the situation called for. The struggle was not made any easier by the fact that Jeeves had free access, as it were, and was distracting me from the task at hand.
"Reginald." I tried at last, and he pulled away just long enough long to free himself before returning to his ministrations.
"Better?" I managed to ask.
The reply, such as it was, was almost nonsensical. To have reduced Jeeves to speechlessness was a delight beyond words. Particularly fortunate since I was unable to articulate too clearly at the time myself.
Too soon I could feel myself coming undone and took a firmer hold of Jeeves before I left him behind completely.
With a dexterous flex of the wrist, down to years of polishing silver, no doubt, I gave myself up to nothing but pleasure. All coordination seemed to leave me, forcing Jeeves to add his hand to mine. His completion followed moments later and as the strength left him he settled down at my side.
I basked for a moment. The evidence of our indiscretion already cooling on my stomach.
Jeeves moved first, producing, in that way of his, something to wipe away the mess.
We lay there in comfortable silence.
"If Mr. Chapsworth were to hire the young man to his personal staff, perhaps as secretary with some nominal salary, fewer questions would likely be raised about the association, sir."
It took my befuddled mind a moment to catch up with Jeeves. "Don't tell me this boosts the old brain power too."
"Not that I'm aware, however, the method I propose is the traditional solution to the problem you outlined, sir."
"Come now, Jeeves, I think we can dispense with the formalities at this point."
"Very good."
I reached across Jeeves for the box on the nightstand. "Cigarette?"
"Thank you, sir."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Thank you."
"Better, Jeeves."
I was not halfway through my cigarette, and thoroughly enjoying the company, before Jeeves stood up and started straightening his clothing.
"I should be going."
"You should do not such thing," I replied, catching him by the hand.
"There are things that must be attended to in the flat before we can retire for the night, sir."
I did not what to throw a tantrum like a little boy who has been denied his favourite teddy bear and reluctantly let go.
"Well, turn off the gas and put out the proverbial, if you must, Jeeves, but then come back."
Morning rolled around eventually, as they tend to do, and I awoke from a thoroughly pleasant dream to find myself alone. One of Jeeves' patent restoratives was waiting on the nightstand, unasked for though gratefully received, but of the man himself there was no sign.
As I reached for the bell Jeeves arrived with the morning Assam.
"Liberties where taken last night, Jeeves," I said as I sat the tea cup on the nightstand.
"Sir."
"I think, perhaps, they should be taken again." I reached out and kissed Jeeves. "In case I wasn't clear in my meaning," I added.
Pulling Jeeves towards the mattress I realised that once again the man was over dressed for the proceedings, though this time I intended to have the upper hand.
I made swift work of the trousers and was making significant advances on the jacket before Jeeves' hands had moved from my hips. It was with considerable concentration that I managed to keep my mind on the task after that point.
"Jeeves," I breathed, mid nibble of an earlobe, "I want make you mine, Jeeves."
We came to a stand still at that and I feared I had over stepped the mark with the chap, he'd gone above and beyond with events as they were stood already, and I had perhaps asked too much. There was a sudden tangle of limbs, the bed was perhaps a touch too small, and when we were settled again Jeeves was presenting himself to me.
I was awed.
"Are you sure?" I asked even as I retrieved from the nightstand the emollient I used from time to time when I had to take myself in hand and relieve the stresses of life.
He nodded, such was his trust in Bertram Wooster, and I knew then that Jeeves was it for me.
I was shaking like a school boy. Some of the oil had slipped from its target and was trailing down his inner thigh, mesmerised I traced its path with my finger tips.
"Please," Jeeves began, rocking back against me.
Not one to deny a man in need I readied myself and pushed forwards. Stilling at his request, pushing on at his demand, until we were rocking together almost uncontrollably.
Just as I felt we could go on no longer there came an almighty shriek from the doorway.
Well, that sort of thing can be quite alarming at the best of times. When one is mid thrust and fast approaching the old pinnacles of ecstasy it can be down right detrimental to the health.
"Bertie!"
"Madeline!"
She ran from the room and we were compelled to follow. Only there are certain conversations that a gentleman wants to be dressed for, so our arrival was delayed by a few minutes.
I left the bedroom feeling like a man stepping up to the scaffold.
"Oh, Bertie."
"Madeline."
"Oh, Bertie," she cried again.
Jeeves stepped forward. I am always impressed by the cool-headedness of the man, but this was really something else.
"Tea, Miss Basset?" he asked cordially, giving every impression that she hadn't caught us mere moments before in a position of some delicacy. That's Jeeves for you: unflappable to the core.
She sniffed and nodded.
Well Jeeves' departure left us at rather a loss, conversationally, and we sat in silence for what seemed an age before Madeline finally spoke again.
"Oh, Bertie."
By this time I was rather hoping she would have expanded her repertoire.
"I've taken Roderick back, Bertie. I thought I should let you know in person, but..."
It looked like she was going burst into tears. I positively willed Jeeves back into the room.
"Your tea, Miss Basset," he intoned, handing her a cup of almost certainly sweet milky tea. Good for shock I've always been led to believe, though I prefer brandy myself.
"Thank you, Jeeves." She smiled weakly.
I let her get a good proportion of the stuff down her before attempting any serious discussion.
"Better, old thing?"
"True love, Bertie. I should have known. I should have known."
"The thing is, Madeline-"
"Oh, I wont tell anyone, Bertie, I wouldn't dream of it!"
"Right-o." She seemed to have pretty good handle on the conversation without any input from me.
She stood abruptly. "I really should be going now."
"Oh."
"Goodbye, Bertie."
"Oh, er, toodle pip, Madeline."
"I shan't ask if you'll look after him, Jeeves," she added, the waterworks threatening once again.
Jeeves seemed to understand what she was driving at and nodded politely as he let her out of the flat.
"I don't think Madeline Basset will be pursuing me again, Jeeves," I said as he laid out the breakfast things.
"It would seem unlikely, sir."
"This wasn't your plan from the beginning was it, Jeeves?"
"Not entirely, sir. There were several developments I had not anticipated."
"Developments, eh?"
"Indeed."
"Well, thank you, Jeeves," I said before turning my attention to the b. and e.
"I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir."
"That you do, Jeeves. That you do."
I took a sip of tea.
"By the by, Jeeves, what became of my new tie?"
"I'm afraid it did not survive our encounter unscathed, sir. I inadvertently mistook it for a wash cloth in the post coital haze."
"Oh."
He fixed me with a look that, from Jeeves, was positively scandalous. "I dare say we could find a use for it, sir."
"Oh, Jeeves!" The chap really was the best.
