Jeeves & Wooster

With that part of the weight off of one's mind I drifted in my room to find Jeeves.

“Jeeves; that young woman?”

The man smiled at me before replying, “Miss Finknottle Sir?”

“Yes! She is the Finknottle we were worried about but as it...” I recapped what the man had just said. “Hold on! You know she is who she is?”

“Yes Sir. I happened to intercept a telegram from your Aunt addressed to Miss Gloria Finknottle.”

“How do you know the telegram was from my aunt?”

“The telegram was already open. The postman had accidentally dropped it, in a puddle. I advised we extract the contents before the ink became contaminated with water and to rid the dampness by placing it on the stove in the kitchen.”

I sat back in the comfy chair. “I'm not going to ask how it ended up in the puddle!”

“It would be most wise of you Sir, to not do so.”

“Did it say much?”

“I only took the liberty of glancing at a few lines. These said to the effect that Mrs Gregson wishes to enquire what Miss Finknottle thought of her nephew and to reply as soon as she can. Other talk about paintings and about the Professor and how your Aunt wanted so much to meet him.”

“A rather large glance of this telegram I'd say Jeeves!”

“Indeed Sir. Yet still a glance.”

I smiled at the wily old goat. “Yes indeed.” Then my thoughts changed, “With Miss Finknottle, we have nothing to worry about. It is Spode I am afraid of.” I took this time to inform him of my earlier dealings and what was said.

“Most unfortunate Sir! Though I am sure things will be resolved presently with the arrival of Mrs Travers.”

“My Aunt is coming at last!” Now things were looking up. My Aunt would be able to assist in this pickle and who knows? Bertram might get an extra helping of Anatole's delights next time one goes down to visit!

It is a strange thing! When one often observes a light on the horizon, something often goes dreadfully wrong. And trust me, it did! I was just skipping along and down the old steps when I bumped into Lord Hastings.

“Ah! Professor! I am so glad to find you!”

“Oui?” I replied to the Dracula looking fellow though feeling impending doom like a victim.

“I have sent the invites out to my friends. They are all eager to hear your thesis on my painting.”

“Ur?”

Then the man tapped me on the shoulder much like a loving father comforts his son. “The review is for eight this evening. I have passed on all the information to Wooster's man. Though I have yet to meet this illusive Wooster. His man Jeeves says he is a little eccentric.”

Of all the bally nerve! I almost said this as I felt this to be Jeeves' way of getting his master back for the moustache. I remembered not to and just nodded my approval and waved him goodbye. Once out of sight I dashed out of the front door and straight into Gussie!

“Ah! Hello Bertiumphh...” I grabbed the man by the mouth and stopped him from shouting out my name. I knew the Lord to be around and the last thing I needed was a newt man giving me away. Taking him on a brisk walk round to the back of the house I let the startled man go.

He just stared at me for a few seconds at a loss for words, much like a newt who had come back in spring to find that his beloved pond had been filled in! “What do you think you are doing? Greeting a fellow in such an extraordinary manner!”

“Sorry Gussie old bean! I couldn't let you say my name.”

He fetched me with one of those looks over his glasses and asked suspiciously, “Why?”

I remembered what Jeeves had said about names and Gussie. “I have to keep my name quiet. Spode is here.”

Upon hearing that name, the man quivered like jelly, “Spode's here!”

“Yes!”

“He will kill me!”

“No, no!”

“Yes, yes! He still holds a grudge about my quick exit with my wife and leaving Madeline in the lurch!”

“Oh come! I'm sure he has forgotten about that. Especially as Mrs Spode is expecting his son and heir to his black shorts.”

“Ur! Black shorts!” Gussie chewed that thought over like a bad taste in the mouth before light dawned upon his newt brain. “Splendid! Then it is safe for my Em and me! We have come down to hear that Professor Renée give his theory on that Russian painting!”

“Well don't hold your breath over this one!”

“Why?”

“Oh, doesn't matter. Just do me one favour old fruit.”

“What?”

“If anyone asks for me. Could you just say to them that you don't know where I am.”

You could see old Gussie thinking this over before he agreed. “Okay, I'll do it.”

“Good!”

“As long as you do the same for me if Spode has not forgotten.”

“Say no more!” Then swiftly changing the subject to avoid Gussie thinking and asking more questions I asked, “Are we expecting to see your Emerald presently?”

“Yes. I have been sent ahead to prepare our room. She is coming a little later this afternoon. She had to do a book signing. Did you know she has written a most splendid book called ‘One Hundred and One Great Recipes.' Or is it a Hundred and Two Wonderful Ones? Anyway they are all mouth watering and I get to try out all her new recipes for the next book!”

“Yes! I've tried some of them from her first book, well Jeeves has. I ate them, not the book, the food.”

“What did you think?”

“Very good! Extraordinarily good, brilliant!”

The man had a look of one being sent to heaven with his friends' praise! “Glad you think so!” Then he prattled on about his favourite top ten for a few hours.

I managed to avoid Spode who was patrolling the outer room which led to the hall of paintings and one in particular was kept in the room at the end of the hall. Upon seeing him I crept round a few chairs, past a plant and up to the sanctuary of one's room.

“There you are! What do you think you are doing?”

“Ah, hello Aunt Dahlia!”

“Don't Ah hello me!” Jeeves has told me all about it!”

I countered with, “Well, if that's all the thanks; I'll just go!”

She snorted before adding, “That is precisely what you should have done in the first place!” The lady was positively fuming!

“B, but I did it for your magazine!”

“Didn't you read my second telegram?”

“Yes I did. Too late I may add!”

The fire was out for a second as my dear hard aunt reflected on her commands. “But I paid good money for the man to get it here before you set foot into this house.”

“And it probably would have worked if there had not been a power cut.”

“Oh!” Then she sat down.

Old Bertram was still on the offensive, “Oh indeed!” Then sitting down I had to ask, “What do you want me to do? I cannot go in front of all and sundry pretending to be the Professor.”

“Especially as the Finknottles have arrived.”

“Yes, and we all know what Gussie would do if I stepped up in front of that dashed painting. He'd announce from his tiny brain that I was Bertie and Spode would snap me into several pieces and send me in the post to prison!”

“Yes, yes! I get the picture. Best pack your bags and leave.”

“That is the most sensible idea I have heard since I arrived here.”

Then an Aunt's curse fell upon the ears. “Remember my dear boy that I am bitterly disappointed in you messing this thing up!”

I stood up. “With all the bally nerve!”

She stood up. “Just get out of here before I change my mind and hand you over to Lord Sidcup. Everything was under control until you blundered this.”

I could not understand my Aunt's reasoning and so chose to leave my own room and seek out Jeeves.

“Yes Sir. Mrs Travers is planning to inform the guests of the unexpected departure of one Professor along with you to France. She will address them at dinner.”

“Best pack now Jeeves and get a taxi ready for a quick exit.”

“Very good, Sir!” It was the bally way he said this which led me to have an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was all going to go wrong and I was going to be indebted to Jeeves as he bails the old master out once more.

All the late afternoon and early evening, the guests kept coming in droves and all past my room. I knew this for every time they passed a floorboard outside my door would creek in protest. At last at about five to eight the noise had died down and I signalled to Jeeves who paved the way for my escape through a maze of doors.

“This way Sir!”

I pushed open what must be the last door to flee to, only to find that the oaf had led me the wrong way and right into the very room that all the guests were sat down just waiting for something. They got me as my mouth fell open!

“Welcome Professor! We have been waiting for this moment! Please step forward and give us your thesis on this marvellous painting!”

And here I stood, next to the ghastly painting and staring at the audience with mouth open and no words of any kind French or English springing to mind.

Then as I managed to compose myself a voice from the third row back shouted, “That's not the professor! That's Bertie Wooster!” Gussie said it!

Spode stood up and started to move towards me with his massive bulk raised to its full imposing size. “Wooster the impostor! Wooster the thief! Wooster the picture taker and home breaker!”

On the account of Spode's poem and fear for my own life I turned sharply in the wrong direction and in doing so I knocked the painting off its stand. In one swift cat like reaction I managed to catch the thing on the run before it hit the floor!

“Look! He's stealing the painting!” Sir Watkin cried in shock!

I didn't hang around! I ran for the door that I came in through and stopped short as Jeeves entered with a small man sporting a moustache.

“May I introduce Professor Renée!”

The man gave me a beady look and enquired, “What is going on here?”

I handed him the painting. “Ah! Professor Renée, yours I believe!” I managed to place the painting into his safe hands just before Spode got to me.

“Come here Wooster you thief! I'm going to teare you apart into five pieces and send them to the prisons around England so all can see just how much a thief and a coward you are!”

“It was only two pieces this morning!” I shouted back as I ran up the stairs for refuge of one's room and hearing Aunt Agatha who had turned up cursing old Bertram and suggesting he spend a long time at a nerve clinic. As I hit the creaking floor that protested at me for stepping on it and probably calling yours truly a thief aswell, the door at the end opened and Gloria stepped out.

“Bertie! Over here!”

I ran over. “Sorry Gloria old girl! Can't stop about to be split in five!” One second I was in the hall and the next I was in heaven? Had Bertram Wilberforce Wooster died? No, I was being kissed by this girl and she was holding tightly onto me as the door burst open and I felt the urge to flee!

“Oh! Excuse me.” Spode apologised, as he must have looked like he had taken a bad turn.

Keeping my back to the man I allowed Miss Finknottle to address him, “And so you should Lord Sidcup. A man of your standing should not be running around and bursting into a single woman's room, especially a bedroom. What will the peerage think? What will your wife think?”

“But you are with him!”

“Bertie simply witnessed the way you burst in here and will testify to Madeline of your lust for younger women.”

“But I...”

Miss Finknottle had him! “Ah, yes bursting in like this Spode is not the thing Lords are allowed to do you know!”

The lion was once more tamed. “Ah; I see the errors of my ways. I'm sorry Miss Finknottle for my intrusion.”

“And apologise to my Fiancée for chasing him around in such a child like manner and accusing him of being a thief.”

As I turned round to face one grovelling Spode, I could see he was having a hard time of this, “You are what? To him!”

“Remember your position Lord Sidcup. Madeline is a very close friend of mine.”

“But, but, but..!”

“Don't but, kindly leave before I scream and Bertie finds you in here with me.”

“Yes, yes. Oh and congratulations Wooster!”

“Thank you Spode.”

The man backed out and was almost bowing as he went. Turning to Gloria I stated the obvious, “We are engaged then?”

“Very much so Bertie! Are you mad at me for taking the initiative like this, after all a woman doing this is to be viewed in a most undesirable way.”

“You mean of the pushy sort?”

“Yes.”

“Jeeves warned me about women of your type. I have been engaged to many like this in the past and Jeeves has rescued me from them.”

“A clever man is Mister Jeeves!”

“Not that clever as to take me into a room full of people I was trying to avoid.”

“I think your man will have it all under control by now.”

“Do you really think so?” I was skeptical especially after his blunder.

“Oh yes! Now best to come down the steps like a proper engaged couple.”

I must admit that I Bertram would normally kick against any other alliance. Yet somehow, this one felt the thing to do. Walking down the wooden steps we were greeted with a rapturous applause!

“Congratulations my dearest Nephew! No wonder you were acting strangely!” My Aunt Agatha said as she gave me a kiss on the cheek! A kiss? Never in the past.

My other Aunt followed up with, “Anytime you wish to come over please do! An extra helping from Anatole's is yours!”

“I thought you were a thief! You were only protecting the thing! Sorry Wooster!” Watkin Basset said as we passed by him through this maze of faces.

“Well done Bertie! Can't thank you enough from our hearts!” This came from the Finknottles. Eventually we found a seat and some champagne as we listened to the Prof as he gave his thoughts behind the painting and spoke better English than me.

After about ten minutes of his babblings I excused myself to hunt for Jeeves who I found helping himself to some food in the kitchen. As soon as he saw me he stood up.

“No, Jeeves!”

The man sat back down and offered his plate, “Would you like something to eat Sir? You haven't eaten all day.”

“No thank you. I'm still not hungry, not yet.”

“A glass of wine perhaps? There is more than enough for two in the bottle!”

Just to appease him I agreed and watched him pour the fine red into a glass while not spilling a single drop. After taking a few sips I had to ask, “How did you do it?”

“Do what Sir? If you are enquiring how I manage to not spill a drop the trick is in twisting the bottle just as you stop pouring, I can show...”

“No Jeeves! How did you get me out of that scrape and make everyone happy as Larry?”

I swear there was a glint in his eyes as he took a quick sip of his wine. “Well Sir. I have been pondering over your predicament for quite some time, how to fix the problem had eluded me. The solution presented itself when I managed to persuade the Professor to come. As Sir Watkin Basset had been unable to contact Professor Renée, I managed to ask an old acquaintance to allow me the opportunity to acquire a phone number of the Professor's residence and to inform the Professor of Sir Watkin's book and how he would dearly love to have him in his tome as he had been a lifelong admirer of his works. As a co-author he and Sir Watkin who valued his opinions could make a very good book about art. I also informed the Professor that Sir Watkin had been cut to the bone upon missing him at the London art exhibition just passed and would be equally cut to the bone if Professor Renée boycotted the viewing of ‘Flowers in the Rain.'”

“And that got him here after all?”

“Yes Sir.”

“But, what about my Aunt Dahlia?”

“I managed to persuade Mrs Travers that you had been doing a lot of profound thinking over the matter.”

“I bet she said something like, oh no not that!”

“Yes Sir. She did call you a fathead three times in her three minutes of colourful speech before she calmed down to listen to reason.”

“What reason?”

“I informed her that you had sent out an invite to the Finknottles after finding out that the original Finknottle was not the married couple. That you had felt that Aunt Dahlia's magazine was of a womanly nature and that she would boost the circulation far more quickly by purchasing the rights to Mrs Finknottle's follow up book entitled ‘Another One Hundred and One Great Recipes.' In this purchase she could acquire the rights to the Finknottles life story which would be a special serialization over the next four issues. This would in turn gain ‘Me Ladies Boudoir' greater recognition with the royal family and close friends than one boring male French Professor.”

“And she bought this?”

“Yes Sir. I informed Mr Finknottle of your brilliant plan to get his wife the rights to royal connections with her serialization of their life story and that Mrs Travers had expressed an eager desire to meet such a woman of great culinary skills and one who had high moral standards and one who the nation could look up to.”

“Yes, I can see why the FInknottles swallowed that up. All are happy except one.”

“One Sir?”

I looked at him. “You Jeeves.”

“I don't follow Sir?”

“I'm engaged to be married to Miss Finknottle and I plan to go through with this one.”

“Indeed Sir. I understand Mrs Gregson to be overjoyed at the match and has decided to forget about all past failures.”

I took a large sip of the wine as one thought had just hit me. “You didn't plan our engagement did you?”

He smiled. “Miss Finknottle was very desirous to make your acquaintance and after I had informed her of your shortcomings and having ascertained the young lady's, I formed a plan as to how you could escape the clutches of Lord Sidcup.”

“Well I'll be dipped in coco!” I finished off the glass and had to ask, “Does this mean you actually approve?”

“I feel that she is a woman of substance and one of a stable, calm nature that is best suited for a man of your stature.”

The man talked and talked and yet never answered the question. I had to pin him down. “Do you approve?”

“Yes I do Sir. I wish you both joy.”

“Jeeves!” I said as I stood up feeling good about all of this, “I want to reward you for the most outstanding plan yet!”

“You do Sir?” He said as he poured me another glass and I noted the twist of the bottle to stop any drips going down the bottle.

“I really do! What can I do for you? Just name it!”

He gave me a good look over before his eyes rested on one part on my face. “You could dispose of the moustache. One feels that it does not do your face any justice. More of an injustice I believe.”

I thought this through. “Okay Jeeves, you have a deal!”

“Thank you Sir!”

Taking my glass in hand I added, “Oh, and Jeeves?”

He had his glass in hand and froze just waiting on his master's voice. Raising mine I saluted the man with three simple words that I felt fitting for a man of his greatness!

“Bravo Jeeves! Bravo!”