Fic: Troubled Times chapter 30 Part 2

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

It was close to nine pm. when I began to set the table. Mr. Wooster entered the room and started to help me. I was about to object when I remembered what I written only hours earlier; 'Wright needs to learn to accept Mr. Heflner as an equal in private'. So instead I gave Mr. Wooster a smile and said, “Thank you, Bertie.”

 

His face lit up with happiness, and he started singing. Silently I hoped that Wright could learn better than I had that accepting one's employer as an equal made them happy and that happiness brought one's own joy.

 

When the table was set, I stood back to look at our handiwork. The war had staked its claim on our table, I thought. No tea, only one slice of bread per person, the cream soup had more water than cream, and...

 

Mr. Wooster's quiet voice broke into my gloomy reflections. “I don't know how you do it, Jeeves.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“The spread looks almost as good as before the war.”

 

I studied my employer for a moment. I thought again about how fortunate I was and how much I loved him. It took only a few words from him to restore my spirits. I looked over the table once more and this time I saw things to be thankful for; we still had butter, ham, wine, chicken, and more. We had more than what we lacked. Many people had far less.

 

I leaned over to Mr. Wooster, and our lips had just touched when the doorbell chimed. My beloved friend smiled against my lips and said, “That's the second time Heffie has stopped us from kissing. And I know better than to offer to answer the door as the idea is to make Wright comfortable.”

 

“Indeed, sir. I suspect that Mr. Heflner convinced Wright to come to the front door by suggesting that they both go to the back.”

 

Mr. Wooster laughed.

 

Upon answering the doorbell, I took them both in with one glance and was told several things; matters were going decidedly well between them, Mr. Heflner was happy, and Wright was tired, had probably not enjoyed being in London, but his employer was happy, so he was content with life.

 

Once we were all seated at the table, I listened as Mr. Wooster and Mr. Heflner negotiated which one of them would talk first.

 

Mr. Heflner began with, “This looks great, Jeeves. Food is much thinner pickings in the city. They're serving something called margarine now. I couldn't get used to the taste. I'd rather have my bread without anything. Wright didn't mind it, though. The restaurants give a chap a tiny spoonful of sugar. When I had dinner with Ginger, they served us these black slabs of tuna. A cove is only allowed one main course, and the menu has stars marking restricted dishes. If you order fish, you won't be given a meat course, so I expected the tuna to be edible but...” he shrugged.

 

He turned his attention to Mr. Wooster and said, “You must tell me all about the school, Bertie.”

 

“I will, old chap, but first you must tell me about everything that happened in the metrop.”

 

“But you already know about parts of that, and I know nothing about the school.”

 

“True but you have more to tell; you've been gone longer.”

 

Mr. Heflner considered my employer's answer and after a moment he nodded. He said, “Where should I start?”

 

This question was directed to Wright, who answered, “Perhaps chronologically would be a good way to relate events, sir.”

 

“Start at the first day and go from there? Yes, that makes sense. Well, we arrived and...”

 

I watched as Mr. Heflner's free hand moved closer to Wright's. He continued, “The hotel room was dusty. Everything in the city is covered with ash and dust but...”

 

He glanced at Wright, who nodded. Mr. Heflner continued, “Wright said that even if the Huns were bombing us twenty-four hours a day, there was no excuse for allowing a room to collect so much dust.”

 

I asserted, “I quite agree, sir.”

 

I was given a grin from Mr. Heflner. He said, “So there he was getting the room up to standard, and I thought I should help. The place was stuffy, so I opened the window. Wright had started to warn me about it, but I already had it opened a bit. The smell was very rummy and ash fell off the sill, covering me and everything around me. I should have realised that I was letting the burnt smell in because I certainly noticed it outside but... my thoughts were that I'd help Wright by airing the room.”

 

I could easily imagine the scene in that hotel room. Wright attempting an almost impossible task of removing grime from a bomb-weary London room and suddenly having his employer covered with ash to deal with too. I gave him a sympathetic glance.

 

“After that I let Wright do the cleaning. We were due at the hospital a short time later, and it wasn't so easy for me to get clean. There was no hot water, and the water from the tap was rusty. Wright managed to get me a bowl of hot water from somewhere.”

 

My sympathy for Wright increased. He probably had gone to the hotel's kitchen to get the water but not having clean water from the taps would have made many of his tasks arduous.

 

Mr. Heflner paused, ate some of the soup, and then said, “Then we legged it to the hospital. Well, it's hardly a hospital these days as they evacuated everything out that could be moved, but Dr. Bridgeman uses it for tests, and they are treating some people there. All I had to do that first day was sign papers but that had its rumminess, too. I was bunging my name down on the third paper, had just got the J and a written when I remembered what military tests were like. Well, there was nothing for it but to brace up and sign.

 

“I had dinner with Ginger that night. Ginger's fine, Bertie. I had barely set foot back in the hotel when the evening hate started. The hotel has a shelter. They've turned the basement into a club and resting area. I'd have managed to keep a stiff upper lip about it, but I couldn't keep Wright with me. They had separate areas for servants. So I sat there while the world seemed to be shattering around me, reading the same sentence over and over, and wondering if the servants' rooms were as well protected as where I sat. I was very rattled.”

 

Mr. Heflner made a small movement with his free hand as if to reach for Wright's hand; only to catch himself and stop.

 

Wright spoke, “It was agonising being away from him; knowing that he was getting more worried by the minute. I kept finding excuses to return to his side.”

 

“And I felt glad to see him and guilty for causing him to go back and forth while we were being bombed. The assault went on and on for hours. I guess there were pauses between raids, but it all seemed blurred together.”

 

Wright stated, “There were occasional ten minute pauses between the assaults.”

 

As his valet spoke, Mr. Heflner's hand once more made a tiny movement toward Wright's before aborting the action. Hoping that I could solve Mr. Heflner's need for a connexion with his servant, I placed a hand over the one Mr. Wooster was not using to eat with and was granted instant happiness from my employer as his fingers closed around mine. I rubbed my thumb quickly over his palm to express my love.

 

Wright noticed my action, and his hand settled over Mr. Heflner's. His employer responded by curling his hand into a fist and as I watched Wright enclosed Mr. Heflner's hand inside his own as if sheltering it within his strength. They have done that before, I concluded. My guess was confirmed when Mr. Heflner's fingers slowly spread to twine with Wright's and then slid down so that his digits were still almost entirely in the sanctuary of his valet's hand. The actions were done smoothly, informing me that this was their established method of holding hands.

 

Mr. Heflner continued with his account, but I perceived an increased sense of confidence in his voice. “I didn't have to be at the clinic until one on Wednesday, so when the firework display finally stopped, Wright and I managed to get a few hours of sleep. Only that didn't start so easy, either. My fault, I suppose. I can't make anything effortless for my Wright.”

 

Wright squeezed his employer's hand and spoke, “If there is blame to assign, it goes to both of us as we try to adjust our relationship. The law forbidding our love must take its share, too.”

 

Mr. Heflner spoke, “Rather. We couldn't go to my room and share a bed. I couldn't go to his. And his room was nowhere near mine due, once more, to him being my valet.”

 

I was slightly surprised at Mr. Heflner's frankness, but I quickly realised that he was accustomed to being relatively open with Mr. Wooster. My employer had been the man's confidante for almost three years now.

 

Mr. Wooster said, “Jeeves and I went through that, too. I'm not sure we aren't still going through it. At least, I am. I hate having him miles and miles distance from me when we go somewhere and if we were being bombed at the time, I'd go loony.”

 

I said, “I too regret the necessity of being apart from Mr. Wooster but under such circumstances as you describe, a separation would be very difficult.”

 

Mr. Heflner nodded. “It's a blighted beano. When it was all finally over, and we were in my room, I called a chum of mine. Telephone worked but it took a while to get through. Gov. has priority on the lines. Anyway, I finally got to talk to Robbie. He and I went to school together. I finished chatting to him, and then there Wright and I were in my hotel room; both of us tired, and we couldn't agree on where to sleep. There was a settee in the room, so I said I'd take that, and he could have the charpoy.”

 

I knew instantly that this suggestion would be negated and something in my face must have reflected my thoughts as Mr. Heflner said, “He thought so, too, Jeeves. Highly improper, I believe my Wright called it.”

 

“I did, sir.”

 

His employer sighed. “And he said it wasn't safe because if we were bombed or something, people might discover that he was sleeping in my bed. Wright offered to kip in a chair. We moved the chair next to the settee. He slept in the chair and I dossed next to him on the settee. We didn't change into pyjamas because if the building is bombed, and we escape, I'm not going to wander through London in my nightclothes. I'd rather be dressed so we can flee quickly should we need to. I believe we both managed a nap...”

 

He glanced at Wright, who nodded. Mr. Heflner continued, “A few hours later I went in to start the tests. I saw Dr. Bridgeman first, and he said something similar to what you stated, Jeeves; that many men would consider themselves lucky to have a good reason to stay out of this war. He asked me if I had given thought to the consequences of being cleared medically. I said I had. He looked over my records and stated that he had noticed that I was a Great War veteran, so he imagined that I knew what I was volunteering for.”

 

Mr. Heflner paused. He finished his soup and said, “That was jolly good, Jeeves. Thank you.”

 

“You are welcome, sir.”

 

Mr. Heflner continued, “Then the Dr. explained all the tests. Besides checking out the old lungs, he wanted to do all the standard tests, so we would know, once done, if I'd quality for military service. He felt that there was no point in examining my lungs, if say my vision is bad. I agreed. The rest of the afternoon was spent getting some of those tests done.

 

“I guess I was about halfway finished with them when there was a call of Jerry up. A few people left for the shelter, but evidently there's plenty of false alarms, and most of them just kept working. I was sent out to the waiting room, where I sat with Wright for about twenty minutes before it was decided that it had been a false alarm. If the alert had sounded, we'd have gone to the shelter.”

 

He paused to eat once more, and I noted that he seemed to actually have an appetite tonight. I had served Mr. Heflner before, only to watch him eat far less than I believed was healthy.

 

He was saying, “I had dinner with my friend, Robbie. His oldest son is with the forces that landed on Crete Thursday. At least, he thinks that is where he is.”

 

There was a brief silence as we partook of the roasted chicken.

 

Mr. Heflner said, “Robbie asked me to stay with them while I was in London. His house has a basement, and they've reinforced the ceiling of that area. I told him I couldn't. I said that I would need my valet in the morning. He probably thought that I'm incapable of dressing myself! He was understanding, though. Robbie's wife, her name is Marion, said that she keeps her maid, Doris, at her side.

 

“I met Wright back at the hotel, and we returned to Robbie's. Once more, we arrived just in time for Brock's benefit. That was a much better night, though. They put two cots down for Wright and me in this corner. I managed to sleep that night despite the bombing, but I think my man found dossing to be more difficult.”

 

Wright said, “I found it challenging to get some rest with all the noise, but I did finally sleep.”

 

Mr. Heflner nodded. “The noise is terrific and at times it sounds like the bombs are right next to you, but I could see Wright at all times and the bed was comfortable, so I could doze. My tests started at eleven am. the next day. I had to have my vision checked, which gave me another reason to be thankful that my Wright came to me. The ophthalmologist doing my exam said that he had just seen another widower and that the man had ruined his spotters with crying. I remembered Wright bringing me a cool cloth to place over my eyes and asking me to rest them for a while. And I can also recall him distracting me from one of my bad spells by saying that the horses needed attention. The blinkers doc. was surprised at the good condition of my vision. Not just because I was a widower but also since he said often in one's forties, the lamps began to see less. I told him my blinkers can start doing that as soon as we win this war not before.”

 

He ceased, and we were all quiet for a time as we partook of food. I noticed that Wright had relaxed. I believed that Mr. Heflner's steady eating had contributed to his ease. His master plainly needed him close by. I also thought that time spent in both our employers' presence helped. They were comfortable with having us dine with them.

 

After a time, Mr. Heflner stated, “I had lunch with Albie and then went to the doc. I only saw Dr. Bridgeman once that day. He came to see me after the X-rays were taken and sent me out to run. They did more X-rays when I returned and breathing tests.”

 

Mr. Heflner stopped here and grinned. “I knew I'd probably pass the tests. I took a brief minute to run by Wright and see what he thought of my breathing and after telling me that he was not a doctor, he said that he was certain I would pass.

 

“We made it to Robbie's an hour or so before the evening hate that night. I had to be at the hospital early Thursday, but I was free Friday and the weekend. Friday, I spent with friends. I talked to Ginger again and another chum of mine from school, Dewie. I had lunch with Albie again. Wright was with Erlin some that day.

 

“Saturday, Wright and I walked in Regent's Park until lunch. I even managed to persuade him to have dinner with me in a quiet restaurant. We had a long talk about the Junior Ganymede Cl...”

 

Mr. Heflner ceased. An odd expression swept across his features. He enquired, “Bertie, you do know who Ganymede was, what? I mean the first cove by that name.”

 

Mr. Wooster grinned. “Absolutely.”

 

Mr. Heflner nodded. “Well, the connexion didn't come to my bean until I was in the middle of a chat with my Wright about the club; a most inconvenient time for my onion to bung in with something like that. Here we were having a discussion on whether or not he should join when I have to blurt out, 'is everyone there like us?'”

 

I started to put a firm nolle prosequi to this notion when Mr. Heflner waved his hand and said, “No need, Jeeves, old chap. Wright squelched the idea rather firmly.”

 

Mr. Heflner grinned now. “But he must have asked because Erlin had told him there were around six or seven servants that have arrangements with their master out of over three hundred members.”

 

Wright said, “I did not ask such a question, sir. Erlin and I were discussing the club and its name was touched on during that conversation. He gave me the information as part of that discussion; having already realised how I felt toward you.”

 

This admonition, spoken in an affectionate tone to Mr. Heflner, was acknowledged with an apologetic nod from Wright's employer.

 

I said, "I had told Wright that Erlin is safe, sir." I could not resist adding, “There is also one that wishes to have such an arrangement with his employer but does not.”

 

Interest flickered into Mr. Heflner's eyes for a second and then compassion dominated his emotions. He asked, “Any hope for him?”

 

“I believe so, sir. I do not think his employer will let him be called up and leave without speaking and obtaining an understanding between them. His master is twelve years older than his servant, and the difference in years has prevented him from speaking before. His valet has been aware that any words on his part would not be accepted due to their age difference.”

 

More sympathy flooded into Mr. Heflner's features. He said, “I can understand that. Wright and I have already had one discussion about the nine years between us.”

 

Wright said, “If I was younger than twenty I could understand our age difference being a matter to consider but as I am in my thirties, I do not believe it should be an issue.”

 

Mr. Heflner said, “Ah, but it's easier for the younger one to feel that way. Well, Wright and I had a talk about the Junior Ganymede Club. I felt that he should join; it will give him a sense of belonging where he wants to belong. Wright didn't wish to write anything about me in some book they have. Apparently he is expected to dash down all my foibles, so any one thinking of working for me will know what they are getting themselves into. I have no objection to him bunging my faults down. I already know them. And it isn't like my Wright is going to be seeking a new position or as if I'm going to be wanting a different valet. If they don't want to work for me because I can't stand still when being dressed or because sometimes I don't eat, well, I'm not asking them to work for me.”

 

Neither of them said anything more; concentrating on eating. I wondered if their discussion had been a moot one. The club might not exist by the time the war was finished. It could survive bombing as it was the members that made it a community not a building. Yet so many of us had already left the service to do war work that I questioned whether even half of the club's members would return when this time of tribulation was over.

 

Mr. Wooster stated, “I don't like that rummy book. Never have. You don't have aunts that could possibly get a hold of it and make your life miserable, but what about Albie?”

 

Wright said, “Exactly the point I brought to Mr. Heflner's attention.”

 

“Yes, I don't have aunts to bring terror into my life. As for Albie, he knows my faults and life well enough. The worst that he could do is ask me to give Wright the mitten and as his butler writes about him in that book... Erlin said so... I hardly think he'd get too upset at Wright over it. Besides, Albie won't forget that Wright helped me through my sorrow. And Bertie, if anyone asks you or me to fire our valets, you can just say that you can't find another manservant these days. The war has made it difficult to find servants.”

 

I asked, “What was decided about the Junior Ganymede Club?”

 

Mr. Heflner smiled. “We had a very long chat about it. I was beginning to feel like I had started negotiations with an immoveable force. Then I remembered that my goal was to make my Wright happy and if he was uncomfortable with tossing my faults and peculiarities out in public then perhaps I should just let the matter be.”

 

Wright said, “While I had begun to think about how important my friendship with Jeeves is to me and how much having support has helped me. I had already spoken with Erlin several times and been in the club. I realised that having encouragement and aid would have greatly helped me during those early years, too. And Mr. Heflner is correct. While I was in the club, I felt at home after the initial nervousness. I do want that sense of belonging.”

 

Mr. Heflner said, “So we decided on a retreat at the same time and managed a compromise. He joins, but we agree on what is bunged into the book before it goes in.”

 

Mr. Wooster grimaced at his food and said, “Yes, but Heffie, have you considered this closely? I mean, old chap, that it's one thing to know your own faults and yet another to have your best friend write them down for the peepers to gaze on. That can sting.”

 

My employer had stated the words as if directing them to Mr. Heflner but it had been Wright that he had looked at. He's cautioning Wright, I thought. Mr. Wooster is not recalling the hurt I caused him; he is warning them of the hazards in their path, so they can avoid the mistakes we made.

 

Wright and Mr. Heflner exchanged looks. Wright said, “I believe he is correct, sir. Perhaps you should write it, and I will simply copy your words.”

 

Mr. Heflner thought this over and said, “That'll work.”

 

There was another time of silence while we finished the main course. From the start of the meal, Mr. Wooster had helped himself to dishes on the table, and Mr. Heflner had followed his example. There had been little need for either Wright or myself to serve our employers. Mr. Wooster understood that Mr. Heflner was reluctant to release Wright's hand and would aid his friend whenever the man required two hands to accomplish something.

 

Once he had eaten more, Mr. Heflner said, “And that is most of our time in London. We spent Sunday at Robbie's. There was no evening hate that night, and it felt very strange. Wright said the weather was too bad. It meant that I had to spend the night apart from Wright again as there was no reason to go to Robbie's basement. I kept waking up, thinking I had heard the siren, but the night was free from bombing.

 

“I had an appointment with Dr. Bridgeman at one on Monday. Wright went with me to get the low down. I felt that if he stood at the door, as if waiting attendance on me, it wouldn't look too odd. Dr. Bridgeman started with the usual things. My vision is excellent, hearing fine, that kind of thing. And he made this joke about how I could go home and tell my lover that I was disease free. I didn't even glance at Wright. Besides my man already knew that. What I wasn't expecting was for the Dr. to talk in detail about the accident I had that got me disqualified for service. If I had known that he was going to discuss it so thoroughly, I'd have tried to persuade Wright to wait outside. As it was, I think Wright found the description upsetting.”

 

Wright said, “I will not deny that hearing the extent of the harm was difficult. I knew that the accident was almost a fatal one but having it detailed out was not easy to listen to.”

 

Mr. Heflner nodded. “I didn't know all of it myself. His reasoning was that he felt I needed to understand that the odds are high that I have scar tissue or some damage that they couldn't find. I said I understood. I was certain that he was about to tell me that there was no way that I could ever serve again, but he just wanted me aware of the possibilities. He stated that they had found no scar tissue or anything that was abnormal. He told me that he had talked to Chandler and Bertie, so he knew that I was doing well in the Home Guard. He saw no reason for the Guard to have me when I could be of use with the Regulars. And then he told me that he was clearing me for military duty, and I'd be added to the call up list.

 

“Not much to tell after that. I found a telephone that worked, called here, went to Robbie's, and then Wright and I pushed off. Rail stations are very rummy. It's hard to find a porter these days, and I didn't see any luggage trolleys to help a body take care of their luggage without aid. Departure times are always being changed and... well, it's just plain rummy.”

 

He looked at me. “I realise that you probably would have preferred that I just let matters be and sit out this war. For that reason, I'm all the more grateful that you gave me this opportunity. Thank you, Jeeves.”

 

“You are welcome, sir.”

 

Mr. Heflner said, “Now I've told you everything that happened while I was gone. Tell me about the school, Bertie.”

 

We had arrived at the sweet course. I released Mr. Wooster's hand long enough to slice the spice cake and serve it to him. Once done, I put a hand on his shoulder and gripped it for a moment. I received a bright smile from my employer and our eyes met long enough to communicate our love. Then I handed the cake plate to Wright to let him serve Mr. Heflner.

 

When Mr. Wooster was finished relating an account of his time at school, Mr. Heflner said, “I can help you with the first aid, if you wish. At least, I can show the men what they most need to know on a battlefield. I used to help Danny when he'd yell that he needed someone. I'd rather help men live than cause one to die. I don't think I'll ever forget any of it.”

 

“Then you'll teach them that part and help me learn, what?”

 

Mr. Heflner nodded and said, “Rather.”

 

Mr. Wooster said, “Jolly good. I found it dashed hard. This Danny... he's the friend that died?”

 

“Yes. He was a medic. He planned on becoming a doctor when the war was over. I provided his cover until they sent me home. Although one couldn't always judge well when another person was in danger. Too much noise and too many things happening at once.”

Comments

[georgeodowd.livejournal.com]

Just a quick note to say that I loved the hand-holding scene... and the biz about the Junior Ganymede. Lovely! Part three, here I come!

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

Thank you! It always brings happiness to be told what is especially liked!

[ironicbees.livejournal.com]

I love that the two couples are having dinner together, and openly showing affection. It's almost like a double date, of sorts. :D

It's nice to see that Wright & Heffie's relationship is continuing to progress well.

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

Thank you for letting me know what you liked! The 'date' was my way of giving Jeeves and Wooster a chance to be an acknowledged couple.

[storyfan.livejournal.com]

Holding hands is so romantic. Being able to physically touch the one you love is so important, especially in stressful times. Excellent Part 2!

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much! A simple touch can mean a great deal.

[gini-baggins.livejournal.com]

I had heard of the Dutch name of Ganymede, which is Ganymedes, and finally the arrow struck home so to say. LOL I feel so ignorant, a bit like Heffie finally realizing!

How did I miss this!? :D Thank you!