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Fic: Troubled Times
Chapter 31 Part 1
Author: Emerald
Rating: Mature.
Disclaimer: Wodehouse owns Jeeves and Wooster.
Beta: jestana Thank you for the careful beta'ing!
A/N: “Velocius quam asparagi coquantur,” means more rapidly than asparagus will be cooked or simply 'faster than cooking asparagus'. Ascribed to Augustus by Suetonius (The Lives of the Twelve Caesars, Book 2 (Augustus), para. 87). Refers to anything done very quickly. The sound of the planes can be heard here: tinyurl.com/299f4hq
After Mr. Wooster had departed, I stood by the door, my thoughts decidedly gloomy. I had an image of us still trying to appease Mrs. Gregson when we were both in our seventies. Firmly I reminded myself that we would be fortunate to live to that time, and I had the unpleasant task of making the chickens' food waiting for me.
Once the chore was finished, and the kitchen cleaned to my satisfaction, I sat for a time and read 'Why England Slept'. Its premise was different from popular thought as it held that the government's pre-war appeasement policy had been wisest course possible for the time.
Mr. Wooster had given me the night free and after partaking of a small dinner I began the journey to town. Before the war I could arrive in town an hour or less after departing from our residence. Now I had to walk to the bus and hope to get a seat. The journey could take as much as two hours.
I went to the cinema and saw 'Gone With the Wind'. I had read reviews about the film and knew it was popular. I found it to be depressing but appropriate to the time. The mostly carefree times that Mr. Wooster and I had shared in the years before the war were indeed gone with the wind.
I hastened home, hopeful that Mr. Wooster would be there. It was almost eleven when I arrived at our house. I found my employer stretched out on the settee, reading and eating some of the cinnamon biscuits that Mrs. Wright had recently given us.
He stood up and held out his arms to me. Happiness that he was home and relief that the first part of our ordeal was over caused me to rush into his arms with far less dignity than I normally maintained.
It was some moments later that we parted, my lips warm from his love.
“Join me on the settee?”
“Yes, sir. Would you like some wine first?”
“I already have some. Pour yourself a glass, old chap. The biscuits are bon, and there's plenty for both of us.”
Once I was settled next to him, I said, “How did your evening progress, sir?”
“Better than I expected, old chap. Dinner was rummy but not in the way I assumed it would be. I thought Cora's father would ask me a lot of questions, but it didn't turn out that way. I guess I'd better start at the beginning, what?”
“It does aid me in understanding you when you do so, sir.”
He smiled. “Faulkner opened the door for me. I gave him a whispered, 'It'll be fine,' before he escorted me into the dining room. He's not like you at all, Jeeves. No stuffed frog about the chap. He had this anxious expression that he was wearing every time I saw him that night.
“Well, I was seated and except for a quick sympathetic glance from Cora, she didn't look straight at me even once. Her father... I was expecting something Spode like, but he's short and almost as thin as Heffie. We were served some thingummy that I think was supposed to be fish, but if I'm never served such a thing again, it will be too soon. It was rotten. Very oily.
“Powell started the conversation by asking what I thought of the war. I told him that I didn't approve of countries invading and bombing other countries. And that was all it took. He reminded me of Spiffy's dog; give him something to sink the teeth into, and he won't let go. He carried on and on about the Jerries and their ghastly conduct.”
Mr. Wooster helped himself to one of the biscuits and continued, “He roared throughout the meal. I had no need to worry that he would ask me questions. He was too busy telling me and probably everyone within miles of us his opinion about the Huns.
“It was just dreadful, old chap. He was in quite a lather. Now and then, he would slam his fist against the table. His wife sat there in frozen silence. Cora had this pile of handkerchiefs and every so often she'd dab at her eyes. Powell stopped once to tell her not to be an idiot, but other than that he ignored her. He did pause to ask me what I was doing for the war effort. I said I was in the Home Guard, and he approved of that. He's in the Guard, too.
“I was jolly glad when the meal was over. There was no bread, no sugar, no butter, and we were served carrots with some kind of icing for dessert. It wasn't the bee's knees, but it was good. I was given something yellow in a glass to drink. It smelled bad. I didn't touch it. Before I could get thirsty, though, Faulkner slipped a glass of water by my plate.”
I said, “Sir, are you hungry? I could get you something more substantial than biscuits.”
Mr. Wooster shook his head. “No, thank you. I'm not hungry. I'm munching on the biscuits just because they taste good.”
He said, “After dinner, Powell and I went to the smoking room. I was certain that he'd ask me questions then. I mean, I thought, surely he wants to know what type of chap I am before he hands Cora to me. He offered me a ciggy...”
My employer looked at me and sighed. “I was so tempted, Jeeves. They calm the nerves and mine were jangled. I got out a choked, 'No, thanks.' Faulkner served me a drink, and I sipped that while Powell talked.
“It was as if Cora is a horse. He told me that he believed Cora would make a good wife and that despite being close to forty, he thought she would be able to give me a son or two. He carried on for some time describing her in almost the same way I've heard Heffie talk about a horse; with one main difference. I've never heard Heffie's voice so cold; he always has love for the animal in his tone. And if it had been Heffie, I would have been asked some blasted questions. He wouldn't just give a horse to someone he knew little about! By the time Powell was finished I was seething inside.”
He took a sip of his wine and continued, “When he was finished, he rang for Faulkner and told me to walk Cora in the garden. I was dismissed. I was still pipped. When we were alone in the hallway, Faulkner didn't ask how it went. He just said, 'He has that effect on people, sir.' He guided me to the door where Cora was waiting.
“I was nervous about that, too. What were we supposed to chat about? And I couldn't just tell her about our plans; not close to the house where someone might hear us, but I could hardly suggest we go somewhere private, either.”
He leaned back against the settee and put an arm around me. Once I had helped myself to one of the biscuits, I nestled in close to him.
Mr. Wooster said, “Cora took care of it. As soon as we were outside, she put a finger to her lips. I followed her around the place to a back door. She gave it a quiet knock, and Faulkner opened the door. He handed her a picnic basket, and she thanked him. I offered to take the basket, and Cora let me. Then she led me through the garden. The garden probably had flowers once, but I mostly saw what Dave once told me were potato plants and possibly the thin, lacy things were carrots.
“We didn't talk but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. It reminded me of playing hide and seek with Angela when I was a child. At first it appeared that we were just randomly walking, but I believe Cora was headed for a certain spot the whole time. We arrived at this place that had a little table and some chairs. I put the picnic basket on the table, and we sat down. Once we were seated, she apologised for her family causing me trouble and being what she called a leaking fountain at dinner. She wants her father to think she's upset about being bunged off to Canada, but really the only thingummy troubling her is Fleet. The most delicious smells were coming from the basket, but I wanted to tell her about our idea touching Fleetfeather.”
He paused while I sipped some wine, and we exchanged a brief kiss before he said, “I told her your plan. She started crying; not like I've always seen a woman cry. These were just silent tears. I don't like to see a woman shed tears. I said, 'There, there' and offered her my handkerchief.”
Mr. Wooster leaned over and hugged me. “What happened was... different. I've had people thank me before, but her voice was choked with happiness and gratitude. Then she opened the basket and started pulling things out of it. Her hands were trembling, and I thought, at first, that she was trying to recover, but, Jeeves, old fruit, I believe she was attempting to not cause me further embarrassment.
“It wasn't elegant, but the food was darb; chicken, bread with a little butter, roasted carrots and potatoes, and some biscuits. There was even some noodle juice. Cora told me that her father doesn't believe that people should be eating good during their country's trial. And if something gets rationed then they are rarely allowed to have it at all.”
My employer grinned. “And I couldn't help it, Jeeves. When Cora told me her father's policy, I said, 'I hope there is something left for him to scoff by the end of this war.' She thought that was funny and laughed. A nice quiet laugh, but it made me think that she has gone through her entire life trying to not draw attention to herself.
“I was afraid that at some point an awkward silence would fall between us, but she never let that happen. She said that she understood that I had lived in London before the war. I said yes, and she asked if I missed London. We had a chat about the metrop. It was quite pleasant, and I didn't feel rummy with it at all. We chatted about things we missed and places we have been to.”
After I had taken another biscuit, Mr. Wooster put a leg over mine. He said, “After we ate, we returned the basket to Faulkner by the back door. He knows Cora well. She didn't tell him our plans, but he took one peep at her and knew all was well. The look he bestowed upon the Wooster person was one of high approval. He gave us a small bag of apples. We legged it down to the stables and saw Fleetfeather. She's a beautiful horse and as friendly as Zenith. I'm jolly glad that Heffie is going to get her. The horse loves Cora as much as she loves the horse. Cora told me that everyone in the horse racing business knows Heffie. He has a reputation for knowing his onions when it comes to horses and for being very kind to them. And Heffie may have never met Cora, but she knows him. You remember Heffie saying that Fleetfeather beat Zenith in two races?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She went to see Fleetfeather after one of those races and saw Heffie with Zenith. He wasn't pipped at the horse for coming in second at all. He was speaking kindly to Zenith and telling her that she had done well. He made quite an impression on Cora because the coves she's known in life tend to get boiling mad and yell when their horse loses.”
Mr. Wooster and I had some wine before he said, “I can't even imagine Heffie yelling at a horse. He loves them and that love doesn't depend on whether the animal wins or loses. I told Cora that, and she said the oddest thing. She said, 'you're a very kind man.' I don't see how that had anything to do with me.”
“I believe she thought you were comforting her in the loss of her horse by sharing your own knowledge of Mr. Heflner, sir.”
He shrugged. “She also said that she was very glad that Heffie would have Fleetfeather. That she could go to Canada and not worry now. I don't think we need be concerned about her giving away our plans. She has a lot of hopes for Canada. Cora told me that she's known since she was fifteen that she would never be able to make her father happy with her. She's put away half of her yearly allowance since that time. A good thing, too, as twice he's withheld that allowance because she wouldn't marry someone. She plans to start a toy store in Ontario. She's stayed in touch with John's parents through the years, and they've given her a lot of helpful advice on how to go about it. Cora wants to eventually be independent of her father.”'
“A very wise decision on her part. I take it that Miss Powell does not intend to return to England after the war?”
“Rather. She says she's had enough of Ol' Blighty for a lifetime, but it's really her father and the wars that she's disgusted with. What's that saying about breaking away from pain... don't tell me...'Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell and boldly venture to whatever place farthest from pain?' Correct?”
“That is correct, sir. Paradise Lost,” I added.
He nodded and his fingers began undoing the buttons on my jacket. “And that's about it, old chap. We made plans to meet on Sunday. Cora and I chatted some more, and then I legged it home. You weren't here yet, so I dropped in at Heffie's. We played a few card games, Wright fed us apple cakes, and after that I waited here for you.”
My jacket undone, his fingers started on my shirt. He said, “Tell me about your evening, love of my life.”
I did not want to ruin the film for him, so I shared some of the plot but did not give him details. I did say, “Because of the American Civil War, their way of life disappeared with the wind. Our way of life has vanished, too.”
His hand slid under my shirts to my back and he said, “I know. I feel that way, too. I'm not going to tell you that things will return to the way they were before the war, but here with just the two of us, we can shut the world out.”
“Let us do just that, sir,” I said as I moved forward to kiss him.
Just before our lips joined, I thought, 'He is home and that makes all well in my world.'
*******************************
The next four days we were busy with Home Guard work. Chandler had given Mr. Wooster the task of teaching what he had learned during the weekend school. Mr. Wooster did not lecture. He had two methods of teaching. The first one was to gather everyone around a table to explain a particular aspect of what he had been taught. He encouraged them to ask questions when they first came to mind and as result the atmosphere was very informal.
His second method was to have us practice what he had been taught. Usually after the talk we would go outside and practice what had been discussed but sometimes the lessons started outdoors. On Thursday afternoon, we began our time outside in a field not far from the town. Mr. Wooster, having given instructions on the order he wished to see us in, went to the opposite side of the field where his conversation could not be overheard.
Mr. Little went to my employer's side first. I could not hear what was spoken, but I could discern that at one point Mr. Little was very bewildered. He stared at Mr. Wooster and waved his arms about.
In our little group on the other side of the meadow, Frank laughed. Walter said, “You can laugh, lad, but can you do any better?”
Frank said, “I'm not counting on doing better. I'm not even sure what we're doing.”
This led to some speculation on who would get the best score. When Mr. Little returned, he was instantly asked how he did. He shook his head and said, “I was given orders not to bunny about it.”
Wright was called to Mr. Wooster's side next. The discussion took a bit longer this time. Once my employer shook his head, and in response Wright stared across the field in puzzlement for a long moment.
When Wright returned to our group, he gave Mr. Heflner a reassuring glance. He went and stood by the man's side, but following Mr. Wooster's orders, they did not speak to each other.
Howard Cripps was next. He was in his late thirties and owned a china shop in Longhaven. His wife took care of the shop when he was gone with his Home Guard duties. He was with Mr. Wooster for quite some time and spent most of the duration gazing out at the field in confusion.
After he had returned, he said, “I'm definitely not ready for the Regulars, but I will be by the time he's finished with me.” He said it with admiration for Mr. Wooster.
The youngest member of our section was next. Ralph had been relaxing against a tree until Howard returned. He straightened up once Howard arrived back. I studied the young man briefly. He had gained weight since he had joined our group; he no longer had a malnourished look about him. I knew this was not entirely due to the good meals we received during our four days at the factory. Howard had given his older sister a position at his shop, and the family had more income as a result.
Ralph came back with a happy grin. He said, “I'm not ready for the Regs., either, but Mr. Wooster says I will be before I'm called up.”
I felt silent amusement. It would be at least three years before he would be old enough to be accepted by the Army. He had plenty of time to get prepared.
I was next. Once I was at Mr. Wooster's side, his eyes met mine. For a brief second, I could easily perceive the love he felt for me.
Then the mask dropped into place and he said, “As I told Bingo, I can't show favouritism, old chap. This is too important a matter; it could mean the difference between life and death. I trust, however, that brain of yours will have no trouble with this exercise, even if you never have fish to scoff these days.”
Knowing that my employer would understand that I was jesting with him, I straightened up and said with a trace of arrogance in my voice, “I do not require fish. My intelligence is not related to a minor matter such as what I eat.”
He laughed. “Very well, let's begin. I know you can describe my map quite well. Now turn that talent to the field. Tell me what you see.”
I scrutinised the meadow. I described to him the trees bordering the edge and the huge rock that was located almost in the middle of the area. Chandler had taught us to describe, but I recalled what Mr. Wooster had said about this particular exercise after his return from school, so I knew my employer would require more than a general depiction. I gave a brief report of the area before telling him all the other possible uses for the field; where I could take cover and where the enemy could hide; advantages to each side of the meadow, how the rock could be employed and everything else I could imagine being used in a battle. I mentioned the possibility of air attack and the protection the trees could provide.
Mr. Wooster interrupted me only once and that was to say, “Velocius quam asparagi coquantur.”
I understood. He wanted me to think and describe quickly as I would have to see and judge my surroundings swiftly in a conflict.
When I was finished, he gave me a smile and said, “If you could choose which side of the field to fight from right this instant, which side would you pick?”
I considered the matter as fast as I was able and answered in seconds, “This side because if I was on the other side the sun would be in my eyes. If I could not choose the side of the field, I would try the next best option; the time of the day. Although I am aware that having any choice at all in this matter can be an unusual luxury. I am also conscious that it would be best to never let an enemy draw you out into the field, if one can keep to the cover of the trees. Draw them out and stay hidden yourself; if possible.”
Now his face lit up and he said, “Jolly good! That's exactly what I wanted!”
“I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir.”
He gave me smile. “Well, you've definitely succeeded. Send Andy to me.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, letting my affection for him and the pride I felt concerning him be heard.
Andy was a retired schoolteacher, who had five sons. His two youngest sons were currently in the Army. His second oldest son, Clarence, was a schoolteacher and he, too, had his part in easing Ralph's family's burden. He was tutoring both Ralph and one of his older brothers, Richard, during the evenings that Ralph was free from Home Guard duties. Mr. Wooster, Mr. Heflner, and Mr. Buchanan were planning to divide the cost of the two boys' education and send them to public school as soon as Clarence felt they were ready. I knew Clarence often fed them at his house which meant more food available for the family at home.
Mr. Heflner had spent time with both boys, teaching them about his horses and how to ride. Due to their love of the horses and to the fact that Wright and I made sure that they had food to eat, I saw the two fairly often. Both boys had spoken to me about the opportunity they were being given, and I was aware that they were excited about the future and determined to make the best of the chance they were given. They wanted to become veterinarians and share a practice together one day with Ralph tending to horses and farm animals and Richard seeing the domestic ones. I only hoped the war did not blot either boys' future.
Now I watched as Andy talked to Mr. Wooster on the other side of the field. He was quite some time with my employer, and I suspected that he was doing well with the description, but Mr. Wooster would want him to learn to judge details faster.
Mr. Buchanan went to Mr. Wooster after Andy returned to us. I could not tell how he did beyond knowing that he was no longer with Mr. Wooster than I had been.
Frank was next to go to Mr. Wooster. He was retired from the factory that we guarded. He must have done fairly well because my employer only shook his head once and he was gone a reasonable amount of time.
Walter was after Frank, and due to the length of time he was with my employer, I suspected that he could have done far better. Walter was fond of Mr. Wooster. My friend treated him with respect and had never given him the easier tasks simply because he was our oldest member.
My employer had placed the two Great War veterans last in order. Roy went first. I could tell that his performance was satisfactory; he was quick and never appeared confused. Mr. Heflner was the last to attempt the exercise. I could discern from his expression that he intended to get everything correct the first time. He must have done well, since I did not see Mr. Wooster shake his head or frown at any time. He was with my employer for less time than I had been.
no subject
Date: 2010-09-04 04:28 am (UTC)I'm very pleased that Bertie is such a capable and respected leader. Is it too much to hope that'll improve Aunt Agatha's opinion of him? ;D
no subject
Date: 2010-09-04 08:43 am (UTC)As you know, I've always felt that Bertie is capable. I think he would make a good leader for several reasons; one of which is because he cares about those men.