Jeeves And Wooster

What we Woosters sometimes forget, or should I say overlook, is that sometimes in our lives our Aunts' paths can cross each other. When this happens as any good chappie will inform you is that his life will suddenly take a few unexpected turns for the worse!

“Ah! Mrs Gregson is it not?”

With the usual look down her nose, my Aunt Agatha replied, “Yes!” Then realising who the woman was added, “Well, fancy meeting you here Mrs Travers.”

“Would you care for some tea?”

“Don't mind if I do.” My aged ‘A' then took to a seat opposite. Clicking her fingers she ordered one of the tea ladies to fetch her a cup and saucer. The place they were frequenting was one of the finest tea emporiums in Chelsea.

Aunt Dahlia watched the cup and saucer come to rest in front of my other aunt before pouring and talking. “I saw Bertie earlier. He has offered to go up to Exton manor and help me out.”

Upon hearing this my Agatha must have stiffened at the sound of yours truly being mentioned. Also she would have given a look much like a look a teacher gives when a young schoolboy decides as a dare to pinch her posterior.

“Do not talk to me about that reckless young man!”

My aunt ‘D' must have raised an eyebrow. “Why the heavens not?”

“I had arranged by telegram for him to entertain me and a young lady to tea.”

“Did he?” My aunt was in the know about this match making service Agatha had going. I often wondered if she received commission for fixing innocent young nephews up to bossy women?

“And just as we were about to leave, I was handed a telegram saying to the effect that he was sorry and that he had to go away for a spot of business!”

Dahlia had taken a sip of tea while my other aunt got things off of her chest and when there was a gap in the conversation my aunt jumped in like a hound on the scent of a fox down a hole! “That's my business at Exton Manor! He is entertaining a French professor.”

Agatha sat back as if slapped round the face with the revelation. “A professor you say?”

“A professor of art. I think he is trying to follow your footsteps by becoming interested in fine paintings.”

When come to think of it, when my Aunt Dahlia is rubbed up the right way can always be relied upon to dig you out of a hole.

“And he has gone up to Exton Manor?”

“Going on the one thirty five.”

My aunt must have smiled a wicked smile at this point. “Good, good! I will send young Gloria Finknottle up there to make his acquaintance.”

“Do you think this to be wise?”

Aunt Agatha is one who does not like to be questioned and showed it in her chilly reply “while he is entertaining your professor...”

“Renée.”

A smile passed over Aunt Agatha's lips. “Is that so? While Bertram is entertaining Professor Renee, he will be on his best behaviour. This will stand him in good stance to win young Finknottle's heart and not making a mess of this potential relationship!”

“Oh yes! He will be on his best behaviour. With two Aunts on the warpath he won't dare to put a foot wrong!”

Then like busses a telegram arrived for my Aunt ‘D' which when opened seemed to unnerve the woman.

“Something up dear?”

“Please excuse me. I have some important business to attend to.”

My travels continued in front of a smelly lorry. I was cold and dying to get out while the farmer prattled on about pigs and other livestock. I looked back at Jeeves and felt sorry for the man. What I mean to say is, if it was frightfully cold in this cab, then is must be intolerably cold sitting on the back of this vehicle, an open backed vehicle I may add. Must be freezing the poor fellow to death!

“Exton manor has ghosts you know.”

I gave him a sideways look, the best I could being half frozen. The neck was really stiff through shivering and now it was going numb. “Oh yes?”

“Yes sir! In fact the owner is said to be possessed!”

“Really?”

“Says he looks like Dracula. Found a few pigs dead on the farm with puncture marks! Makes you think doesn't it?”

“Yes it does!” Then one felt the need to add, “Tinkity tonk!” I don't know why? Probably the old brain was freezing up!

“Welcome to Exton Manor!” The old boy said before letting out an evil laugh which would have chilled me to the bone if I wasn't already there!

It was dark now and this didn't add to the attraction of the place with its grey stone walls and to add to my hate of the place a big flash of lightening swept across the sky making this manor look as if it was empty.

“Does anyone live here?”

“Just ring the bell!” The farmer shouted from his cab as he decided to swing his rusty wreck out of here, leaving as fast as he could.

I looked at Jeeves who on observance had faired better than his master. “Well Jeeves here we are!”

“Indeed sir. May I take the liberty of ascertaining if anyone is in?”

“Please do.”

“Mr Wooster?” I must have jumped about six feet into the air while spinning round to find a man staring at me with a bicycle leaned up against his hip.

“Yes. Are you the owner?”

“No Sir. I have a telegram for you.”

“Another one?”

“Looks to be that way Sir!” Jeeves replied from behind me. I declined the offer of jumping a second time.

“Like busses these grams! Apparently Bingo told me that you don't see a bus all day long and then three turn up at once. Dash odd and now these telegrams are doing the same.” The man did not follow his master on this idea and so I chose to ask “did you find anyone in?”

“No Sir! The...” Jeeves and I were having this conversation at the door when it clicked open and one elderly servant with bulging eyes stared at us.

“What do you want?” He asked as he held a candle up to show more of his elderly features.

“I, ur...” It was at this point I dropped the telegram and while I was groping in the dark, Jeeves made out acquaintance.

“Mr Wooster has arrived to see the owner of this fine manor!”

“Ah! You wish to see Lord Hastings. Please come in and wait in the hall while I fetch me master.”

Jeeves made way for me to walk in first and here I noticed something. “No lights then?”

“No. We have a power cut. Please mind the...”

The warning came too late! I snagged my foot on something on the floor and I found myself falling through the air to fall onto a highly polished floor and spinning round a few times before grinding to a halt!

“Leopard skin rug!” He finished saying as Jeeves rushed over to aid his master. As we stood the lights came on.

“We have light! I'll get me master now.” And off he toddled.

“I don't like this place. The sooner we are out of here the better!”

“Yes, I agree Sir.” Pulling out the first telegram he made a suggestion. “May I make a suggestion sir?”

“Suggest away Jeeves!”

“May I advise that we read the telegrams.”

“Why?”

“To receive both with the expressed desire for us to read them before we entered the building, suggests to me an urgency with a warning attached!”

I goggled at the man. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes Sir!”

“Best give me the first one then!” Taking it I opened it and read its contents.

“Dear Nephew urgent stop. Professor Renée just called to inform me he is not coming stop. You must be him stop. Me Ladies Boudoir depends on it stop.

After digesting this information I cried, “Jeeves! She wants me to be the professor!”

“Yes sir?”

“Yes indeed! I can't play French man?”

“The moustache will help to convince Lord Hastings as I believe it is of high society in Paris at this time and will add weight to your charade.”

I gawped all the more as the Wooster metal sprang once more into action!

“No Jeeves, no!”

“Best to read the remainder of the telegram Sir. It might aid us further.”

“Bertie stop. Don't wiggle out of this stop. I have told Lord Hastings that you cannot come stop. The Professor is still coming stop. Stop grumbling and do your best stop. I will be down presently stop.” My eyes felt as if they were going to pop out of my head “dash it Jeeves!”

“Hello! Reginald Hastings at your service!”

I turned sharpish to be faced with a very tall and thin man with slicked back black hair and possessed very white features. At first glance I thought it was Dracula himself, then on second inspection I wasn't that sure. My saying nothing at this juncture allowed Jeeves the edge.

“Good evening Lord Hastings! May I take the liberty of introducing Professor Renee, famous art critic and scholar!”

The man almost ran over to shake old Bertram by the hand! As he was shaking the thing off I managed to blurt out the only word I could remember in French. “Bonjour!”

“Bonjour indeed! I trust your journey was a pleasant one?”

How could one answer this question in French? I had known the basics from my visits to that country. Well, actually I know very little, only words that were of no import here, not unless you felt like insulting someone.

“I'm afraid Sir! That Monsieur Renée speaks very little English. I will have to interpret for him!” Which the dashed fellow did!

As I had understood the English in the first place, I just nodded as Jeeves said in French a question, which was translated into English as this, “Would you like to take some refreshment after your long journey?”

After thinking this over I nodded and yawned.

“I'm afraid Professor Renée is very tired. If we may be permitted, could I show Monsieur Renee to his room?”

The man almost folded double as he apologised. “How silly of me! Of course, of course! This way. I will get Baxter to show you the way!”

“Most kind of you Sir!”

Then at this point Lord Hastings stopped. “I thought Baxter said that a Mister Wooster was present?”

I stared at Jeeves who had the answer. “I believe Mrs Travers sent you a telegram to inform you of the sad delay of Mister Wooster and his kindness in sending his manservant down to translate for Monsieur Renée.”

The man frowned for a second or two as he put the pieces together like a puzzle and once making the whole picture he smiled. “Ah! I see! You are Wooster's man. How nice of mister Wooster to send you along!”

A few minutes later, we were in the clear and as the door closed I saddled up to the nice open roaring fire which was welcoming old Bertram like a long lost friend! And as I did I had to voice my opinion. “This is all a bit thick!”

“Indeed Sir.”

“What do you suggest?” I needed him to rally round his master and to my chagrin, he did the exact opposite.

“Best to stick with the current plan and hope it stays as straightforward as it currently is Sir.”

So much for rallying round! Probably still brooding over the moustache I'd say. There was no point in arguing with the man, or adding to the coldness when his words sunk in and I remembered something. “The last time I played someone, I was Gussie Finknottle! Playing a newt fancier was definitely not par and I was if you remember found out! Only a brilliant wheeze on your behalf saved the day! Are you going to do that again?”

The man looked straight at me and made his reply. “No Sir. May I suggest you open the second telegram and find out what it has to tell you.”

“I don't know?”

“Maybe you should read it. As it is most probably from Mrs Travers Sir!”

“Do you really think so?” I had the disappointment of Jeeves not rallying and this made me a bit woolly headed as I wondered how Jeeves could deduce that this telegram in my hand was from my aunt.

“As Mrs Travers is the only one who knows in advance who we are and where we are. I would be so bold as to make the assumption that it is from her.”

If I were a dumb betting man, I would have put a large wager against his deduction. But knowing Jeeves and following his logic I knew he was right!

“Okay Jeeves! You read it! Oh and stand by the fire and warm up your bones while you do so!”

“Thank you Sir!” He replied as I swapped places and went to sit down in one of the two comfy looking arm chairs that sat close to the big ‘F'!

Once opened Jeeves cleared his throat and began. “Dear Bertie stop. Have blundered badly stop. Stop...”

“Stop stop? What is a telegram that has stop stop?”

“I believe it is a full stop to end the sentence followed by the actual word stop, as in informing us to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“I believe we were just coming to this Sir.”

“Oh, carry on Jeeves!”

The man I swore smiled just a little as he continued the case of the stops!

“Stop acting as the Professor stop. Do not do it stop. Just be yourself as Finknottles are about stop.”

I stood bolt upright! “Gussie here?”

“It appears to be that way Sir.”

Then I sat down a little more relaxed. “Ah, but Gussie is an old pal of mine. He will stick by this scheme. Friends always stick by friends!”

At this juncture, my good man coughed. It was one of those coughs that had no hint of something wedged in the old throat. This one was an interrupting one.

“Pardon me Sir for interrupting. But I feel you have overlooked an integral part in your plan.”

I raised the old eyebrows and asked. “Have I?”

“Mister Finknottle is now married to a Stoker. Stokers are renowned for their honour and will I'm sure give the game away if called upon to relinquish this sense of honour.”

“Ah Jeeves! That brain of your has forgotten something!”

“Has it Sir?”

“Yes! Miss Stoker ran off with Gussie, so all honour in that department is void.”

“That point of view would be true Sir, if Miss Stoker hadn't been heartily embraced into the family bosom again. The Stoker family now holds the Finknottle's in very high esteem. Especially as Mrs Finknottle has just written a best selling book entitled One Hundred and One Great Recipes.”

“What is it with everyone writing books these days?” Then pondering over the change in circumstances the Bertie Wooster you know and love was all but a shadow as the new Bertram came to the fore!

“What shall I do? I cannot be the professor, then again I cannot confess to being myself all along.”

“My suggestion would be to carry on pretending to be Professor Renée and to keep a low profile until a solution presents itself.”

“You mean keep clear of the Finknottles?”

“Precisely Sir.”

“Jeeves fix me up one of your specials! I feel as if I am going to need it. No and make yourself one also.”

“Thank you Sir!”

“Don't thank me Jeeves. Just take it. I feel as if we are both going to need it!”

The sun was shining and the birds all a twitter as I sat up to find Jeeves holding out my usual cuppa! “Good morning Jeeves,” I almost sang as he frowned at the tash before composing himself.

“Good morning Sir! I trust you had a pleasant rest?”

“Yes! Very deep and very sound.” Then looking about me I asked “where am I?”

“At Exton Manor Sir.”

It all came back “I take it I'm still Professor what's his name?”

“Very much so Sir. I have already taken the liberty of checking for the Finknottles and alas to no avail. I can only deduce that they are still to arrive.”

“What about Hastings?”

“He is very much disturbed. Lord Hastings has read that you are an early riser and always takes a brisk walk before returning for a hearty breakfast.”

“Oh really?” I asked as I sipped the hot liquid “what time do I rise for that?”

“At six o'clock in the morning.”

“Is there a six in the morning?”

“I'm afraid so Sir.”

Shaking nasty thoughts of that ungodly hour from my mind I asked, “What else happened?”

“I merely informed Lord Hastings that you had been unwell while travelling over and that you had decided to rest but will be feeling better presently.” Then as he took the empty cup away he added, “This I believe will allow you sufficient time to stay out of the way.”

“What? Stay in this room all day with only a book by that blasted Rosie M Banks to keep me company!” I said as I stared at the book entitled ‘Only a Factory Girl' which I had read once and made me feel sick! Give old Bertram a detective story any day. I wish I had packed one. Still, too late for that now.

Jeeves presented me with a large silver tray and placed it upon my lap. “I took the liberty of procuring sustenance for your day in exile. I also managed to find a newspaper at the local village shop on my travels at first light.”

“Thank you Jeeves.” I felt truly warm to the fellow, though not so warm that I would sacrifice the old upper lip cover for him.

I took the paper in hand and noticed one thing wrong with it. “J, Jeeves! This paper is in French!”

“Yes Sir. Lord Hastings had it imported especially for you.”

“B, but I cannot read this!”

“ I'm sorry it's a day old.”

“No! You don't get it! I can't read the thing because it's in bally French!”

The man had an evil look of amusement in his eyes as he said, “No Sir?”

“What am I to do?”

“May I suggest that you peruse the inner pages of the article. I would suggest from page two.”

I did as Jeeves suggested and found that from page two onwards; it was all in English and not only that, it was my usual!

“Jeeves! You are a marvel, just hiding my usual under the cover!”

“I took the main body of the paper out and disposed of it via the stove in the kitchen when the kitchen staff were absent.”

With a hearty breakfast under the belt of my dressing gown, I had a bath and then after dressing I sat down in front of the ball of flames and read my paper feeling I could endure the day like a monk in a monastery.

The clock chimed seven and Jeeves at last came in with my evening meal.

“How is it all going?” I asked after folding up the paper that I had read three times over.

“I have been informed that a few more guests will be arriving soon, though none of these are in the name of Finknottle. Though I must add that a couple of names are familiar.”

“Oh right!” I replied as one hungry Bertram watched as the serving tray lid came away to reveal not just one leg of chicken but two!

“What about our host?” I asked between a mouthful of chicken.

“He is very anxious to show you his painting. I informed the Lord that you would be ready to look at the fine piece of art tomorrow.”

“Oh good! The sooner we view the thing the sooner we get back to the metrop.” Then I ran over the equation of how many people were actually here. “At this time barring the servants, it is just you and I and the Lord?”

“Not entirely Sir.”

“No?”

“The young lady that you kindly gave your taxi to is also staying here. Though I have yet to ascertain the nature of her business.”

This cheered me up! “I will have to charm the girl with my French accent naves par?”

“The French term is I believe to be n'est pas. And may I suggest we avoid this lady as she gives the appearance of being somewhat of the reporter type.”

This was bad news! “Best avoid her, if she was to discover our charade.”

“Precisely Sir.”

With having the threat of a reporter hot on ones heels, I decided that bed was the only option. This turned out to be a good idea as at an ungodly hour I was woken up!

“Good morning Sir!”

Forcing the old peepers open. “J, Jeeves, what do you think you are doing?” My brain was still very much in a slumber.

“It is time for you to get up Sir.”

“Why? Is the house on fire?”

“On Sir! It is time for your walk.”

“Walk?” Then as the cobwebs of sleep fell away from my eyes all this fell into place as I noticed the curtains were still firmly closed. “But it's still dark?”

“Being the heart of winter, it is always dark for at least another hour.”

“What time is it?”

“Five thirty Sir. I have your clothes ready for your walk.”

“Dash it Jeeves! This is all very, very thick! I have a good mind not to go.”

“I fully understand. Then again, if we can keep this illusion up, I am sure Mrs Travers will in the end be delighted with your bold sacrifice and will allow you to visit Totleigh Towers for a regular feast on Anatole's delights!”

The man was making far too much sense at this time in the morning that I just felt compelled to mumble, “I will go and get prepared.”