Fic:Troubled Times chapter 13 part 2

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

I did not expect the lessons to come easily for either of us, but the amount of difficulty involved was surprising. Despite what I had told Mrs. Travers, I had not anticipated more than a moderate amount of travail over the matter. Mr. Wooster had some experience with shooting, and I had assumed that I would simply have to aid him in honing his skill.

At first, I believed that perhaps my instructions were lacking in some way, and I tried to vary what I said. Mr. Wooster did not appear to be truly listening to me. Certainly his attention to my cautions concerning safety was inadequate; to such an extent that for the first time in all our years together, I almost raised my voice in speaking to him and managed a calmer tone only with great effort. The incidence occurred on a rather cold day at the end of February. We had been practising almost a month, and the results were very discouraging. Mr Wooster frequently waved the firearm around in frustration. He had pointed it at his feet more times than I cared to count, and had bruised his shoulder due to handling the weapon wrongly. This afternoon as we were about to leave the house to practice, he had picked it up by placing his hand over the barrel's opening. I had barely restrained myself from lifting my voice, and as it was my lecture was probably quite harsh.

Thorny silence reigned between us until that evening at dinner when he said, “I am sorry, Jeeves. My other hand was nowhere near the trigger. The gun won't fire easily. That blasted trigger requires some of the Wooster strength to pull.”

 

I was still feeling the fright he had given me, so I looked at my plate and not at him when I replied, “Very good, sir.”

 

He sighed, and nothing more was said.

 

After dinner, I began to put up the black-out curtains, and he went to the piano. Mr. Wooster started to sing my favourite songs, as was his usual custom, except tonight his voice was quiet and rather subdued. Like tiny pin-pricks, remorse commenced to sting me. There was a pause in the music while Mr. Wooster partook of some wine. He began to play again, this time a melody that it took me several minutes to recognise as he did not sing. The pangs of regret heightened as I discerned what he was playing, and I ceased my work.

 

Mr. Wooster had arrived at the last verse when I came to his side. Softly I sang,“'After you, who could supply my sky of blue? After you, who could I love? After you, why should I take the time to try, for who else could qualify? After you, who? Hold my hand and swear, you'll never cease to care, for without you there what could I do? I could search years, but who else could change my tears into laughter after you?'”

 

Leaning down, I brushed my lips across his cheek. I said, “I love you, sir. I always will. I apologise for my harshness today.”

 

“I know you'll always love me, Jeeves. As I shall always love you.” Mr. Wooster shrugged. “I was just feeling a bit low. I'll be very careful from here on out, Jeeves. All forgiven?”

 

“Indeed, sir.”

 

I returned to my task, and he began to play again. The tune Mr. Wooster selected this time was a happy one, and his voice once more held that pleasing cheerful lilt that was customary in his speech.

 

The next morning when I awoke enclosed in his embrace, I remembered my anger and felt sorrow over it. I knew he was quite capable of learning anything he desired to, but it was plain that Mr. Wooster had no desire to learn how to defend himself. I considered giving up. I could find a way to get Mr. Wooster to go to New York after all. Mrs. Travers would find that even more acceptable than having her nephew learn to kill. Yet Mr. Wooster had made it clear that he wished to stay here.

 

I took his identity disc in my hand, studying a number that had long since been engraved on my heart. I scrutinised the number until my vision blurred while I debated going to New York. We could not escape the times we lived in, but it was possible that in America we could return to having some semblance of the life we once had in London. More importantly, Mr. Wooster would be safe there. Yes, he would be safe there, I reflected, but not completely happy. He would not wish to leave England now, and would resent any method I used to get him to depart. No matter where he was, he would remain worried about his friends and family. I had no doubt, too, that Mr. Wooster would feel guilty if he left England at this time.

 

I reviewed the issue, trying to find another solution. I recalled an officer I had known during the Great War declaring that some people had to become “fighting mad” in order to learn how to handle a weapon. It was possible that if I could get Mr. Wooster angry enough, he would put more concentration behind his actions. The flaw in that premise was that it would be very difficult to make Mr. Wooster reach a level of anger that great. It was not part of his nature, and even when he was furious, he never stayed that way long enough for my idea to be of any use. If anyone could make him extremely irate, though, it was me. I certainly knew all the right words that would cause him to become enraged. The damage to our relationship would be considerable, however, and no explanation from me afterwards would completely repair it. My heart ached at the thought of it. I pressed a kiss onto his shoulder and mused. If it was a choice between his life and our relationship, I would choose his life, but I knew he would not make the same decision. Our agreement to make decisions together was vividly recalled. I remembered a lesson that I had learned in our years together. Often in the past when my intention had been to make him angry, I had also hurt him. I was certain that false words from me designed to enrage him would cause him great pain. What was more, it had been several years since I had been dishonest with him. Learning to be open had been extremely arduous and to take a step backward now seemed very wrong.

 

Perhaps when I was younger, I would have considered either solution, whether causing him wrath or fleeing to New York, a viable alternative. Now I was older, and I hoped wiser. I found neither answer satisfactory. If I could think of nothing else, I would choose New York. To harm our relationship and hurt him would wound me far beyond anything else except his death, and to undo all the effort we had both put into our partnership to make it a success was abhorrent to me.

 

I was still searching for an answer when Mr. Wooster began to stir. I kissed his shoulder again, and carefully so as not to wake him, removed myself from his embrace.

 

I was preparing his breakfast when I came upon a resolution. The centre of our trouble was that Mr. Wooster knew only too well the reason I was teaching him to use a firearm. The notion of killing was detestable to him, and he resisted the idea to such an extent that he could not learn. I had to get him to see deeper; to realise that it was not about taking life, we were fighting for our country and our home. If I could find all the right words that would anger Mr. Wooster then I certainly knew which words to say to motivate him. True, I would have to be harsh again, but our relationship would not suffer for it. Nor would I be making the decisions alone.

 

*********************************************************************************

 

That afternoon I noted that Mr. Wooster was following the precautions I had given him. Practice began, however, as it always did with Mr. Wooster hitting everything but the target. After several minutes of this, I cleared my throat. This gained me his attention far better than any of my instructions had. “Yes, Jeeves?”

 

I indicated a nearby tree stump. “Would you put the gun down, please, sir? I wish to speak to you.”

 

Sadness crossed his face, and I knew that I had indeed been too harsh the day before. I would have to be stern today, too, but not in the same way and hopefully the results would be different. Yesterday I was angry due to fear for his safety, today I held no wrath, just calm determination.

 

I already knew the answer, but I asked, “How long has the Wooster family lived in England, sir?”

 

Startled at being asked something that he did not see as pertinent, Mr. Wooster glanced around as if he expected the nearby trees to give him a reply on a subject that he was very knowledgeable about. He said, “We popped over with the Conqueror.”

 

“My family has been here since the fifth century and perhaps before that. Do you consider that a long time?”

 

He stared at me for a second and then said, “I jolly well do consider that a long time.”

 

I moved behind Mr. Wooster and shifted him so he was facing the direction where the English Channel was located. “We have a right to be in this land and an obligation to protect it.

 

“Think of all those children uprooted from homes and families. Years of their childhood have been taken from them, and no one is the same after living through a war. They have suffered enough and should be defended from undergoing more hardships. Abigail no longer has a father and has been displaced from her country. All of her people are threatened solely because the Nazis do not like the Jewish people. She has lost her father, been torn from her mother and exiled from her country. England's children might have worse happen to them, if Hitler wins.”

I gave Mr. Wooster a second to ponder my words before continuing, “You told me that you did not wish me to view you as innocent. Do you remember when I told you that Mr. Abbot wishes to send his daughter to our cottage should the Germans invade England?”

 

He nodded, and I asked, “Do you understand what an invading army might do to our women?”

 

I knew that Mr. Wooster did from the expression of horror and revulsion that came into his face. I did not wish to force him to dwell on that subject, simply to acknowledge it, so I gestured toward the ocean. “Twenty-three miles. If Belgium or France falls to Germany, the Germans will be only twenty-three miles from our shores. The English channel will be all that holds them back from our country.”

 

I pointed to the firearm. “If you cannot learn to use a weapon for your own sake, then at least try to master the skill for the reasons I have given you, sir. Otherwise we should go to New York, for I would not have you die with no chance of defending yourself, nor will you be of any use to our country.”

 

I ceased my persuasion and stared out in the direction of the English Channel many miles away. It was time for Mr. Wooster to make his half of the decision now. If he still did not wish to learn, I would find a way to get us out of the country.

 

I am uncertain how long we stood there, but finally he said, “Jeeves?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“I'm sorry, old chap. I've really given you a rummy time of it.”

 

“No, sir. I am aware that this is difficult for you. I apologise for my harsh words yesterday.”

 

“That's been forgiven. I know I scared you. Do you suppose we could start completely over? Not here. At the cottage over tea. You give me all the thinggummys you do not feel are safe for me to do, and I promise I will memorise them and stick to them closer than ...” He glanced around before saying, “... closer than sap on trees. And tomorrow I will give the lesson the old Wooster all. What do you say, Jeeves?”

 

“That would be most satisfactory, sir.”

 

 

I could not have asked for a more attentive audience that afternoon. I felt assured afterwards that there would no more of waving the firearm around recklessly, pointing the gun at his feet, handling the firearm incorrectly, or picking the weapon up wrongly. Nor did Mr. Wooster have any trouble now he was determined to do his best. The hands that I knew could be steady and sure applied themselves to the task, and before two weeks had come to a finish, he was hitting the target more often than not. I made certain that my words of praise were more plentiful than my former stern ones.

When Mrs. Travers' letter arrived enquiring how matters were progressing, I was able to give her a satisfactory report.

Tbc

 

Comments

[ironicbees.livejournal.com]

I'm glad Jeeves was able to apologize to Bertie for his harshness. I'm sure he'd have had a lot of difficulty doing so during their early years together.

I certainly knew all the right words that would cause him to become enraged. The damage to our relationship would be considerable, however, and no explanation from me afterwards would completely repair it. My heart ached at the thought of it. I pressed a kiss onto his shoulder and mused. If it was a choice between his life and our relationship, I would choose his life, but I knew he would not make the same decision.

For a moment, I was very worried Jeeves would choose this method and sacrifice their relationship. Thank goodness he didn't! The one he settled on was smart, because it's the only motivation I could imagine Bertie having for ever bringing himself to kill another person.

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

I would never sacrifice their relationship. I'm going to keep building on it. Yes, women and children and the country are the only motivators that I believe would work on Bertie.
Thank you for the reply!

[jackpy.livejournal.com]

A new chapter so soon?! Will wonders never cease?

The relationship building is very pleasant, it's nice to see Jeeves is finally showing some maturity, which is surprising as prior to reading this fic I never saw the childish spin on a lot of the stuff he's done to Bertie. Touching bit with all the aunts gathering with the desire to get him out of England!

I'm floundering for something to say, but it was really just as lovely and splendid as all the other installments and I hope there's more soon.

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

I have quite a few chapters drafted, so I'm trying to get them polished up and to my beta. I'm glad the relationship building is obvious! I guess my slant on the characters is obvious, too. Some of the actions of both Bertie and Jeeves were very immature to me. I've read most of the stories and the end ones show a growing maturity for both of them. I'd like to think that Bertie's aunts did love him despite how rough they were to him.
The next chapter is done, so it shouldn't be too long.
Thank you for the lovely reply!

[jestana.livejournal.com]

I'm glad that Jeeves was able to come up with a proper solution for Anatole. It would have been dangerous for him to go to France.

I understand the need for Bertie to be able to shoot, but I agree with Jeeves that killing someone would change him to some extent and that would be sad.

I think it was very sweet of Bertie to not like the idea of profiting from war. I like his position, but Jeeves made a good point when he explained how Bertie could look at it.

I'm sorry they had trouble with the firearms lesson and I'm so glad Jeeves was able to put it in perspective for Bertie rather than resort to going to New York or getting Bertie mad.

Bravo!

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

One of my goals when I started this story was to have as few deaths as possible and keeping Anatole in England promotes that. Not to mention making the Travers family and Bertie happy. :)
I'm going to go as easy on the characters as I can. And I won't be doing anything that will make serious, permanent changes in Bertie. I think killing someone would change far too much. I was watching a WWII film recently, and after battle this fellow just sat and cried. I won't be doing that to Bertie! It will get angsty at times, but that kind of hurt is too deep. I do want Bertie to be useful, and realistically this is the next step because people were very fearful of an invasion at the time, and Bertie's aunts know that he could receive papers.
Jeeves is right, in a sense, about making a profit. But Bertie is, too, in a way. Bertie wouldn't think first of the money, but of not liking the war and not wanting to benefit by it.
From the way, I view Bertie, I knew I could never get him to learn to use a gun without giving him some strong reasons for doing so.
Thank you very much for the reply!

[jestana.livejournal.com]

Yes, it certainly would. On both counts. *grin*

Yay! I'm so glad, but you're right that it would make sense for him to have to learn.

Yeah, you're right. That's how Bertie would think of it.

The reasons you gave him are very solid and very real.

You're very welcome!

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

I'm glad my reasons seem good. Bertie claiming to be a preux chevalier is what I used to motivate him.

[jestana.livejournal.com]

Exactly! And it's wonderful that Jeeves didn't go with his first idea, that he sat down and thought of a way that would keep both of them happy, while still accomplishing the objective.

[willdew.livejournal.com]

I enjoy this series a lot because of the work you put into making it historically accurate. I thought the strength in this chapter was the way that Bertie tries to resist the whole gun thing by being careless and extremely bad at it. He knows he has to do what Jeeves says, but that doesn't mean he has to do it /well/. It's interesting because you show that they've both matured what with the whole acknowledgment-of-their-practically-married-status-thing, but that they still have their squabbles and differences of opinion which need smoothing out. And the whole discussion re:innocence was something I could imagine. Although he's played as genuinely clueless in the TV series sometimes, Bertie's narration in the books strikes me more as being written by someone who chooses to gloss over unpleasantness instead of being entirely naive.

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much! WWII is such a huge subject that I'm sure I'll miss something, but I am continually doing research for the story. Yes, it was difficult for Bertie. Not something he really wanted to learn, but he does want to be of use to his country. Relationships do take frequent work. I agree with you about Bertie. I think Bertie is often seen as innocent, but he just glossed over unpleasantness.

[sige-vic.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much for your wonderful story. I've been reading it from the very beginning last few days and enjoyed it immensely. I like most of all that you describe established but still deepening and developing relationships between Jeeves and Bertie. It's not so simple I think to write about million details that stay behind "and they live happily ever after" :-) Also I like your original characters. I believe in them because you describe them so realistic and I do hope they will go forth in their relationships though I doubt we will know the details of this progress. Or there may be some candid talking between Heffie and Bertie? or between Jeeves and Wright? Well I just can't imagine such scenes though it's a pity, because I think we all would like to know about development of their relationships :-)
And I do like historical background in your story. All these details about collecting of silver and food rations and this Jewish girl... They made your story so deep and feasible.
I'll be looking forward to the next chapters.

P.S. And sorry for my mistakes. I'm afraid I just can't write in English without them... but I really wanted to tell you how I enjoyed your story! :-)

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for the reply! I am glad you are enjoying it and really appreciate your comment on it! You've captured exactly what I'm trying to show-a relationship that is firm, established, but like all relationships takes work and can be deepened. The happily ever after takes work to achieve.
I'm always happy when people like my OCs. They become very real to me, as I know them so well. There will be more of Heffie and Wright. I hope you like the future progress.
I'm also thrilled that the historical background is going well and the constant research shows. The story is written to show that difficult time.
I hope to post the next chapter sometime next week.
I think your English is perfect. Thank you for the happiness your review gives me!

[sige-vic.livejournal.com]

*I hope to post the next chapter sometime next week*
Oh! What a great news! :-) I'll be here with my feedback! :-)