Fic: Troubled Times chapter 40
Aug. 24th, 2011 10:55 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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indeedsir_backupTitle: Troubled Times
Chapter 40
Author: Emerald
Beta :![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jestana and windysameThank you very much! I greatly appreciate your work and advice!
Rating: Mature.
Disclaimer: Wooster and Jeeves belong to Wodehouse.
Summary: The story deals with the time before, during, and after WWII.
My stories: http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml
We did not try to converse during the return journey. The train was too crowded for conversation. It was not until we were sitting at a table in the hotel, waiting for our food to be served, that Mr. Wooster attempted to talk to me. He said in a hushed voice, “There are some thingummys in my day that I can't chat about here.”
In a normal tone, he asked, “How is Erlin doing?”
By the time we had been served dessert, I had given him the details of my visits. I handed Mrs. Brown's note to him and waited while he read it.
Glancing over at me, he said, “It's really you that should be thanked.”
“No, sir. The gratitude rightfully belongs to you.” Lowering my voice, I said, “It is generous of you to give me such freedom with your money, regardless of my relationship with you.”
Mr. Wooster shook his head. Keeping his own voice quiet, he replied, “We've been more than master and servant for almost eleven years, and you know how I feel about you.”
“I know. Thank you.”
He smiled across at me, “Now you're doing the thanking. I'm glad to be able to help Maggie and Donald out. You're very fond of her, what?”
“Certainly not, sir. Little girls are a great deal of trouble.”
I answered him in my sternest tone, watched him hide a grin, and mumble something that sounded like, 'Sheer rot,' under his breath before he returned to eating.
********************************************************
Once we were in his room, I held him close and said, “You stated that seeing London was similar to attending a funeral. Funerals are painful. How are you doing?”
He sighed softly and shifted so he could rest his head on my shoulder. “Wounded, Jeeves. I feel wounded. I know we need to talk, but I feel like sitting in front of the hearth and nursing my wounds in silence. I'm aware today was harder for you...”
“Perhaps, but we are both hurt.” I glanced at the hearth that was void of a fire and replied, “The room does have a chill to it. Why don't I help you into your pyjamas and you can sit in front of the fireplace? I could wrap an eiderdown around you and see if I can locate some coffee, if you would like.”
“That would be jolly good, old chap. Let me nurse those wounds for a bit and then I promise to fill your flippers with details of my day.”
Some time later as we sat with our chairs close together, the eiderdown that he had insisted on sharing resting across both our laps, and cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits on the table in front of us, he said, “Animum debes mutare, non caelum, old thing. The sky isn't going to change for Bertram Wooster, so there's no point in being gloomy over it. Where shall I start? Should I tell you the worst options I was given or the best? Or start with what I am considering or what I'm not considering? Or...”
I cleared my throat and the words ceased. “I would suggest you begin at the beginning. How is Mr. Winship faring?”
“Begin with my lunch with Ginger and everything else in order of occurrence?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, while taking a biscuit from the plate.
“Ginger is fine. Magnolia wants to come to England. They've both had enough of being apart. Ginger was leaning toward agreeing to her biffing here until Bingo told him about his rift with Rosie. Now he's afraid that if Magnolia comes here, she'll want to stay in the metrop. as Rosie is doing. So I suspect Ginger and his are about to have their first by mail row.”
“That is unfortunate. The journey here is dangerous, but I would have great difficulty being separated from you for such a long time.”
His hand settled on my knee and he said, “I hope all our separations will be short ones. I hate being away from you.”
His intonation implied that he was not expecting us to be sundered any time in the immediate future, and I became hopeful that whatever he wanted to do, based on what he had learned today, it would not involve us being parted. I said, “Tell me about your visit to the man that Chandler wanted you to see. Start at the beginning.”
“This young shrimp opened the door. I guess she wasn't that young, in her early twenties, but she had an expression on her map that reminded me of Aunt Agatha. An aunt in training, I suppose or perhaps they make them that way these days. Only that can't be true. Wright's cousin, Jasmine, isn't like an aunt.”
He paused and grinned at me. “I guess you wish me to carry on and not ramble?”
“I am very curious,” I replied. Normally I found his tendency to wander about in a conversation endearing. Now, however, I was eager to hear his account.
“I thought I'd be given an appointment and told to come back another day. Instead I was shown to a seat, my name taken, and told to stay in the same tone one would use on a dog that one expects to get into mischief the minute one's back is turned.”
I frowned. I knew that her demeanour would have made Mr. Wooster nervous, and she had probably been reacting to his anxiety, but I did not like any one speaking to my employer in such a manner.
He continued, “She wasn't gone long before she came back and told me to follow her. The old tone was better this time; almost respectful. I was popped into this room with this very stern looking chappie about my age.”
He nibbled on a biscuit before saying, “I didn't know what was expected of me, Jeeves. I'm not in the Home Guard any more, but I was sent by Chandler to report to this bird, and he was wearing a military uniform. That uniform made me decide that I'd better pull the frame to attention and I did. I'm still not sure that was the right thing to do. Chandler said that we're civilians if we're not in the Guard or Regulars, but my action washed some of the sternness out of his map. He gave me the 'at ease, have a seat'. Introductions were made and he asked me if there was some place in particular that I wanted to serve England at.”
“I said no. He said, 'Well, I've seen your records and spoken to Chandler, so I know your skills but there are a few things I'd like to speak to you about'.”
Mr. Wooster ate more of the biscuit, glanced at me, and said, “By few, he meant quite a few. I wasn't prepared for the barrage of questions that followed. I'm not sure I can relate them all to you in the order that they came in but there are a handful or so that stuck in the Wooster lemon, that I wish to chat with you about.”
He shifted his chair so he could see my face better. He said, “When you were telling me about this supposedly his name is Smith blighter questioning you to see if you'd fit at Bletchley, my thoughts were centred on what he wanted from you and whether he knew about us. I didn't think about the enquiries themselves but when the cove I was talking to today asked me some of the same questions and I realised how different our answers are...”
He glanced down at the floor and I asked, “Which one of my answers concerns you?”
“Well, he wanted to know if I had qualms about reading other people's mail and if I had trouble lying and...”
His eyes met mine and he said, “You don't. Have qualms about either.”
“I do not have qualms about either action, if my motive for doing so is reasonable. I do not make a habit of being dishonest or of reading other people's mail. What worries me, however, is that being with you for so many years has influenced me and now I prefer honesty over dishonestly even when not being completely truthful is the best course to take.”
I was jesting and he knew it since he grinned. “I'm a bad influence, what?”
“In more ways than one, sir.”
When he had finished laughing, I said, “Does the difference in my answers and yours bother you?”
He became serious. “Yes and no. I pride myself that I know Reginald Jeeves very well; perhaps better than he knows himself.”
He glanced at me and I nodded. “That is probable.”
“So realising that our replies would not be the same wasn't a problem but understanding that he might be trying to find out if I was qualified for Bletchley and knowing that giving him the opposite answers from yours would mean I'd not be pushed in to work with you... that was rummy. And then I really considered lying, but we both know I'm not good at it.”
“True, I have not been as good an influence on you as you have been on me.”
He smiled. “I wouldn't say that. I don't want to be parted from you and if I had known ahead of time that he was going to ask those specific queries, I would have determined to give him the answers that I hoped would keep me close to you. So I stumbled through the questions aware that I was really bunging this up and becoming more and more convinced that I should lie when the nature of said questions changed.”
Holding a biscuit in front of him as if he was speaking to it, Mr. Wooster said, “He started on my family background. He didn't bluntly ask if I had ties with Germany or Italy. Maybe that wasn't his intent. He may have just been confirming that my records were correct as his statements told me that he already knew the answers.”
Mr. Wooster had a bite of the biscuit, adjusted the eiderdown around us, and stated, “He said, 'I understand that your father's family came here with William the Conqueror, has your mother's family been in England that long?' There wasn't too many of those type of enquiries.”
Looking over at me, Mr. Wooster said, “Then he asked what languages I spoke and had a pop at having a chat with me in French. I can get by with basic conversation but nothing beyond that.”
My employer took a sip of his coffee and said, “He asked about you, too. He stated that you had been in my service a long time and did I trust you? I told him that I trusted you implicitly.”
He finished eating the biscuit and after taking another sip of coffee said, “He gave me some cards and asked if I could recognise the planes on them. They looked exactly like the ones Chandler used to teach us to identify planes because he wanted us to be able to tell whether it was friend and foe above us. I identified every one correctly.”
I said, “I remember. He had us study The Aeroplane book, too, and then tested us on its contents.”
“Rather. I was asked if I knew their sounds as well as I recognised their markings and I do. Chandler was tough on us but I learned a lot from him. That about sums... wait, no, he also questioned me about my vision. The peepers still see very well. And that's it.”
I slowly partook of my coffee, waiting for Mr. Wooster to continue. When he did not, I said, “A story is incomplete if it does not have an ending. You mentioned options before, what did he offer you?”
Mr. Wooster replied, “Sorry, old chap. The bean was busy thinking. He said that there were many things I could do for England. He gave me this paper, told me to read it, and if I was willing to give my word, sign it.”
My employer moved until he was perched at the edge of his seat, twisting so he could look directly into my face. “The Official Secrets Acts, old chap. I've already endorsed it. You were worried about keeping secrets from me and I said that when you put the Jeeves' name down on the document, you could consider my name there, too. Now I've actually added my name to it. He stated that even though I had signed the form he couldn't disclose details to me, but he would share enough with me to hopefully give me an idea of where I wanted to be.”
Mr. Wooster was silent for a moment then said, “I can't talk like this. I need to walk.” He stood up, letting the eiderdown slide toward the floor. Before I could reach for it, he took hold of it and began tucking it around me. As he did, he said, “I was surprised by his next words but I guess the government knows everything about one, so I shouldn't have been. He said that most of England's great authors are writing for their country now and he was certain they could use my impressive abilities.”
The eiderdown wrapped around me to his satisfaction, he began to pace the floor. “Firstly, I'm not one of England's great writers and I don't have impressive abilities, and secondly or rather firstly in importance but second in thoughts and...”
He halted and I said, “Never mind, just continue. If I get confused, I will ask you to explain.”
The outburst of quick words that I was expecting instantly followed. “How did they know? I'd like to know that, I would. Taxes, what? Something related to my income?”
He was not requesting an answer, and I did not wish to interrupt him as he needed to talk, so I said nothing.
“I've told no one, absolutely no one about my writing. I have only one secret more precious to me, that of our relationship, and in all our years together, I've shared that with just Heffie, and I haven't told him about my writing...”
He paused briefly to enable himself to breathe before saying, “He's chatting about how I'd have to leg it into the metrop. each day, and the lemon is jumping up and down with what if I meet with Rosie or worse yet Florence? How would I explain the Wooster person being among them?”
He halted in front of me and said, “I didn't pour all that on him. I merely said that I didn't want any one to connect me with my writing. He didn't understand it but he said there were other choices.”
He took a deep breath before settling back into the chair next to me. I put the eiderdown across his lap. He reached for my hand and clasped it. His voice low, he said, “This next part is one of the reasons why I had to autograph the act.”
“I understand. You have my word that I will not reveal to any one what you tell me tonight.” I squeezed his hand tightly for a second.
In a voice that was almost a whisper, he said, “There's a section of the Home Guard that we weren't told about. Their main purpose is to disrupt the Jerries after an invasion. I'm not sure what that involves, but I'm guessing that it would mean days away from you at a time when you would be extremely concerned about my welfare and I'd be loony with worry over yours. It could put you in danger, too, if the Nazis were given any justification to be looking for me. Besides, I want to be certain that I am of service to England, and we might not be invaded.”
“They also serve who only stand and wait, however I understand how you feel. I also believe that you have greatly underestimated your skills as an author. Nevertheless, I would be reluctant to risk our secret about your writing being uncovered. I take it you have rejected these two alternatives?”
His hand tightened in mine and he said, “If that has your approval.”
“It does.” I stroked the palm of his hand with my thumb. “What else were you offered?”
“Spy work, but that's all wet as I don't believe that you will give your acquiescence to anything that might mean I'd be dropped into France or placed in highly dangerous circs.”
“Certainly not! Nol...” I straightened in the chair, gripped his hand tightly and tried to calm the vehemence in my voice. “Is this something you would want to do?”
“If it meant I could be of use to England, I'd be willing. It's not something I'm considering since it would mean being apart from you, leaving you behind to be anxious.”
“Be anxious!” Once more I had to remind myself that reacting with strong emotion was not necessary. In an intonation that I hoped was serene, I said, “I would know no rest for worry.”
Mr. Wooster leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “So I'll give it a miss for now.”
My heart was still trying to pound its way out of my chest, but my voice was steady when I replied, “Are there other options that you prefer?”
“Rather but I haven't made a decision. We agreed to make decs. together. I could serve in one of the branches of the military. He could get me in despite my age. Now I know this would separate us and cause you to fret but it is second in my preferences as I'd feel like I am really doing something for England.”
Hoping that I would find his first choice to be more acceptable, I asked, “What is your first choice?”
To my surprise, Mr. Wooster stood up again. He tenderly wrapped the eiderdown around me and placed a kiss on my forehead. I could see excitement in his eyes and was certain that his first selection was something he truly wanted. My heart began its rush of anxiety, fearing what he might wish to do.
Standing in front of me, he said, “The cove thought I would be perfect for the Observer Corps.”
His eyes met mine, eager enthusiasm clearly displayed in the bright blue. “Jeeves, sometimes the aeroplanes brought down are ours. The Observer Corps help prevent that by identifying approaching aeroplanes so the gunners know if they're friend or foe. They also guide lost friendly aeroplanes to safety.”
As Mr. Wooster talked, he began to walk back and forth in front of me, his voice rose slightly as he spoke, his face brightened, and he waved his hands in the air. Relief flooded through me. This was something I could endure.
He continued, “I'd be helping the RAF, Jeeves, without causing you to fret. I'd be doing something that is very important.”
I asked, “Where would you have to go? Would we be able to see each other?”
He returned to his chair, one hand sliding under the eiderdown to rest on my arm. “I couldn't ask him if I'd be separated from you. Instead I asked if I would need lodging somewhere. He said I probably wouldn't; that it was likely that I'd be assigned a post close to home. It doesn't sound as if I'd be lugged away from you.”
“How much danger would you be in?”
“I don't know. I wouldn't be able to discuss my duties, therefore I don't believe the Jerries would be making a target of the Wooster person, since our location shouldn't be common knowledge.”
He fell silent, but I was aware of his quick glances at me. I was conscious that this was what he wished, but I wanted him to state his desire. “This is your preference?”
“Absolutely. I'd be doing something important.”
“I have no objections.”
Excited, he jumped up. I stood up and gathered him into my embrace.
He held me tightly and said, “Thank you, old chap.”
“I understand the need to be of aid to our country now. Perhaps you could write Mrs. Travers? You may not be able to tell her much information about your future plans, but I am certain she would be glad to hear that you are not entering the Regulars.”
His embrace became even tighter. “While you go to your room, what?”
“That was not my plan. I thought we might share the desk. I would like to pen a letter to Mrs. Wright and send her our address.”
Rubbing his back, I said, “I love you. I am grateful for your consideration of my feelings while you were reviewing the options.”
“I love you, too. I wish you could stay here with me tonight.”
I was cognisant that it was not intimacy he truly desired. The reality of the coming changes in our lives with so many things out of our control made us both yearn to stay close to each other. I did not want Mr. Wooster to concentrate on the future, however.
Nuzzling his neck, I said, “I wish I could stay here, too. Still, the evening has not grown old, and I believe we can find a discreet way to be intimate before I retire to my room.” Sliding my hands up and down his legs, I whispered into his ear, “I love taking you in my mouth, feeling you grow as my tongue finds all your favourite places to be licked.”
He trembled in my arms and I smiled against his neck. “I love the way you try and always fail to be still. I feel the quiver in your legs as my tongue lavishes your glans with my devotion. I love the heat and smoothness of your flesh as it finds pleasure within my mouth.”
Ignoring the choked sound from Mr. Wooster, I said, “You fill my mouth, giving me such delight that I can think of nothing but you and only you.”
“Reg, please...”
It was quite some time later before we sat down to write those letters.
Tbc
Chapter 40
Author: Emerald
Beta :
jestana and windysameThank you very much! I greatly appreciate your work and advice!Rating: Mature.
Disclaimer: Wooster and Jeeves belong to Wodehouse.
Summary: The story deals with the time before, during, and after WWII.
My stories: http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml
We did not try to converse during the return journey. The train was too crowded for conversation. It was not until we were sitting at a table in the hotel, waiting for our food to be served, that Mr. Wooster attempted to talk to me. He said in a hushed voice, “There are some thingummys in my day that I can't chat about here.”
In a normal tone, he asked, “How is Erlin doing?”
By the time we had been served dessert, I had given him the details of my visits. I handed Mrs. Brown's note to him and waited while he read it.
Glancing over at me, he said, “It's really you that should be thanked.”
“No, sir. The gratitude rightfully belongs to you.” Lowering my voice, I said, “It is generous of you to give me such freedom with your money, regardless of my relationship with you.”
Mr. Wooster shook his head. Keeping his own voice quiet, he replied, “We've been more than master and servant for almost eleven years, and you know how I feel about you.”
“I know. Thank you.”
He smiled across at me, “Now you're doing the thanking. I'm glad to be able to help Maggie and Donald out. You're very fond of her, what?”
“Certainly not, sir. Little girls are a great deal of trouble.”
I answered him in my sternest tone, watched him hide a grin, and mumble something that sounded like, 'Sheer rot,' under his breath before he returned to eating.
********************************************************
Once we were in his room, I held him close and said, “You stated that seeing London was similar to attending a funeral. Funerals are painful. How are you doing?”
He sighed softly and shifted so he could rest his head on my shoulder. “Wounded, Jeeves. I feel wounded. I know we need to talk, but I feel like sitting in front of the hearth and nursing my wounds in silence. I'm aware today was harder for you...”
“Perhaps, but we are both hurt.” I glanced at the hearth that was void of a fire and replied, “The room does have a chill to it. Why don't I help you into your pyjamas and you can sit in front of the fireplace? I could wrap an eiderdown around you and see if I can locate some coffee, if you would like.”
“That would be jolly good, old chap. Let me nurse those wounds for a bit and then I promise to fill your flippers with details of my day.”
Some time later as we sat with our chairs close together, the eiderdown that he had insisted on sharing resting across both our laps, and cups of coffee and a plate of biscuits on the table in front of us, he said, “Animum debes mutare, non caelum, old thing. The sky isn't going to change for Bertram Wooster, so there's no point in being gloomy over it. Where shall I start? Should I tell you the worst options I was given or the best? Or start with what I am considering or what I'm not considering? Or...”
I cleared my throat and the words ceased. “I would suggest you begin at the beginning. How is Mr. Winship faring?”
“Begin with my lunch with Ginger and everything else in order of occurrence?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, while taking a biscuit from the plate.
“Ginger is fine. Magnolia wants to come to England. They've both had enough of being apart. Ginger was leaning toward agreeing to her biffing here until Bingo told him about his rift with Rosie. Now he's afraid that if Magnolia comes here, she'll want to stay in the metrop. as Rosie is doing. So I suspect Ginger and his are about to have their first by mail row.”
“That is unfortunate. The journey here is dangerous, but I would have great difficulty being separated from you for such a long time.”
His hand settled on my knee and he said, “I hope all our separations will be short ones. I hate being away from you.”
His intonation implied that he was not expecting us to be sundered any time in the immediate future, and I became hopeful that whatever he wanted to do, based on what he had learned today, it would not involve us being parted. I said, “Tell me about your visit to the man that Chandler wanted you to see. Start at the beginning.”
“This young shrimp opened the door. I guess she wasn't that young, in her early twenties, but she had an expression on her map that reminded me of Aunt Agatha. An aunt in training, I suppose or perhaps they make them that way these days. Only that can't be true. Wright's cousin, Jasmine, isn't like an aunt.”
He paused and grinned at me. “I guess you wish me to carry on and not ramble?”
“I am very curious,” I replied. Normally I found his tendency to wander about in a conversation endearing. Now, however, I was eager to hear his account.
“I thought I'd be given an appointment and told to come back another day. Instead I was shown to a seat, my name taken, and told to stay in the same tone one would use on a dog that one expects to get into mischief the minute one's back is turned.”
I frowned. I knew that her demeanour would have made Mr. Wooster nervous, and she had probably been reacting to his anxiety, but I did not like any one speaking to my employer in such a manner.
He continued, “She wasn't gone long before she came back and told me to follow her. The old tone was better this time; almost respectful. I was popped into this room with this very stern looking chappie about my age.”
He nibbled on a biscuit before saying, “I didn't know what was expected of me, Jeeves. I'm not in the Home Guard any more, but I was sent by Chandler to report to this bird, and he was wearing a military uniform. That uniform made me decide that I'd better pull the frame to attention and I did. I'm still not sure that was the right thing to do. Chandler said that we're civilians if we're not in the Guard or Regulars, but my action washed some of the sternness out of his map. He gave me the 'at ease, have a seat'. Introductions were made and he asked me if there was some place in particular that I wanted to serve England at.”
“I said no. He said, 'Well, I've seen your records and spoken to Chandler, so I know your skills but there are a few things I'd like to speak to you about'.”
Mr. Wooster ate more of the biscuit, glanced at me, and said, “By few, he meant quite a few. I wasn't prepared for the barrage of questions that followed. I'm not sure I can relate them all to you in the order that they came in but there are a handful or so that stuck in the Wooster lemon, that I wish to chat with you about.”
He shifted his chair so he could see my face better. He said, “When you were telling me about this supposedly his name is Smith blighter questioning you to see if you'd fit at Bletchley, my thoughts were centred on what he wanted from you and whether he knew about us. I didn't think about the enquiries themselves but when the cove I was talking to today asked me some of the same questions and I realised how different our answers are...”
He glanced down at the floor and I asked, “Which one of my answers concerns you?”
“Well, he wanted to know if I had qualms about reading other people's mail and if I had trouble lying and...”
His eyes met mine and he said, “You don't. Have qualms about either.”
“I do not have qualms about either action, if my motive for doing so is reasonable. I do not make a habit of being dishonest or of reading other people's mail. What worries me, however, is that being with you for so many years has influenced me and now I prefer honesty over dishonestly even when not being completely truthful is the best course to take.”
I was jesting and he knew it since he grinned. “I'm a bad influence, what?”
“In more ways than one, sir.”
When he had finished laughing, I said, “Does the difference in my answers and yours bother you?”
He became serious. “Yes and no. I pride myself that I know Reginald Jeeves very well; perhaps better than he knows himself.”
He glanced at me and I nodded. “That is probable.”
“So realising that our replies would not be the same wasn't a problem but understanding that he might be trying to find out if I was qualified for Bletchley and knowing that giving him the opposite answers from yours would mean I'd not be pushed in to work with you... that was rummy. And then I really considered lying, but we both know I'm not good at it.”
“True, I have not been as good an influence on you as you have been on me.”
He smiled. “I wouldn't say that. I don't want to be parted from you and if I had known ahead of time that he was going to ask those specific queries, I would have determined to give him the answers that I hoped would keep me close to you. So I stumbled through the questions aware that I was really bunging this up and becoming more and more convinced that I should lie when the nature of said questions changed.”
Holding a biscuit in front of him as if he was speaking to it, Mr. Wooster said, “He started on my family background. He didn't bluntly ask if I had ties with Germany or Italy. Maybe that wasn't his intent. He may have just been confirming that my records were correct as his statements told me that he already knew the answers.”
Mr. Wooster had a bite of the biscuit, adjusted the eiderdown around us, and stated, “He said, 'I understand that your father's family came here with William the Conqueror, has your mother's family been in England that long?' There wasn't too many of those type of enquiries.”
Looking over at me, Mr. Wooster said, “Then he asked what languages I spoke and had a pop at having a chat with me in French. I can get by with basic conversation but nothing beyond that.”
My employer took a sip of his coffee and said, “He asked about you, too. He stated that you had been in my service a long time and did I trust you? I told him that I trusted you implicitly.”
He finished eating the biscuit and after taking another sip of coffee said, “He gave me some cards and asked if I could recognise the planes on them. They looked exactly like the ones Chandler used to teach us to identify planes because he wanted us to be able to tell whether it was friend and foe above us. I identified every one correctly.”
I said, “I remember. He had us study The Aeroplane book, too, and then tested us on its contents.”
“Rather. I was asked if I knew their sounds as well as I recognised their markings and I do. Chandler was tough on us but I learned a lot from him. That about sums... wait, no, he also questioned me about my vision. The peepers still see very well. And that's it.”
I slowly partook of my coffee, waiting for Mr. Wooster to continue. When he did not, I said, “A story is incomplete if it does not have an ending. You mentioned options before, what did he offer you?”
Mr. Wooster replied, “Sorry, old chap. The bean was busy thinking. He said that there were many things I could do for England. He gave me this paper, told me to read it, and if I was willing to give my word, sign it.”
My employer moved until he was perched at the edge of his seat, twisting so he could look directly into my face. “The Official Secrets Acts, old chap. I've already endorsed it. You were worried about keeping secrets from me and I said that when you put the Jeeves' name down on the document, you could consider my name there, too. Now I've actually added my name to it. He stated that even though I had signed the form he couldn't disclose details to me, but he would share enough with me to hopefully give me an idea of where I wanted to be.”
Mr. Wooster was silent for a moment then said, “I can't talk like this. I need to walk.” He stood up, letting the eiderdown slide toward the floor. Before I could reach for it, he took hold of it and began tucking it around me. As he did, he said, “I was surprised by his next words but I guess the government knows everything about one, so I shouldn't have been. He said that most of England's great authors are writing for their country now and he was certain they could use my impressive abilities.”
The eiderdown wrapped around me to his satisfaction, he began to pace the floor. “Firstly, I'm not one of England's great writers and I don't have impressive abilities, and secondly or rather firstly in importance but second in thoughts and...”
He halted and I said, “Never mind, just continue. If I get confused, I will ask you to explain.”
The outburst of quick words that I was expecting instantly followed. “How did they know? I'd like to know that, I would. Taxes, what? Something related to my income?”
He was not requesting an answer, and I did not wish to interrupt him as he needed to talk, so I said nothing.
“I've told no one, absolutely no one about my writing. I have only one secret more precious to me, that of our relationship, and in all our years together, I've shared that with just Heffie, and I haven't told him about my writing...”
He paused briefly to enable himself to breathe before saying, “He's chatting about how I'd have to leg it into the metrop. each day, and the lemon is jumping up and down with what if I meet with Rosie or worse yet Florence? How would I explain the Wooster person being among them?”
He halted in front of me and said, “I didn't pour all that on him. I merely said that I didn't want any one to connect me with my writing. He didn't understand it but he said there were other choices.”
He took a deep breath before settling back into the chair next to me. I put the eiderdown across his lap. He reached for my hand and clasped it. His voice low, he said, “This next part is one of the reasons why I had to autograph the act.”
“I understand. You have my word that I will not reveal to any one what you tell me tonight.” I squeezed his hand tightly for a second.
In a voice that was almost a whisper, he said, “There's a section of the Home Guard that we weren't told about. Their main purpose is to disrupt the Jerries after an invasion. I'm not sure what that involves, but I'm guessing that it would mean days away from you at a time when you would be extremely concerned about my welfare and I'd be loony with worry over yours. It could put you in danger, too, if the Nazis were given any justification to be looking for me. Besides, I want to be certain that I am of service to England, and we might not be invaded.”
“They also serve who only stand and wait, however I understand how you feel. I also believe that you have greatly underestimated your skills as an author. Nevertheless, I would be reluctant to risk our secret about your writing being uncovered. I take it you have rejected these two alternatives?”
His hand tightened in mine and he said, “If that has your approval.”
“It does.” I stroked the palm of his hand with my thumb. “What else were you offered?”
“Spy work, but that's all wet as I don't believe that you will give your acquiescence to anything that might mean I'd be dropped into France or placed in highly dangerous circs.”
“Certainly not! Nol...” I straightened in the chair, gripped his hand tightly and tried to calm the vehemence in my voice. “Is this something you would want to do?”
“If it meant I could be of use to England, I'd be willing. It's not something I'm considering since it would mean being apart from you, leaving you behind to be anxious.”
“Be anxious!” Once more I had to remind myself that reacting with strong emotion was not necessary. In an intonation that I hoped was serene, I said, “I would know no rest for worry.”
Mr. Wooster leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “So I'll give it a miss for now.”
My heart was still trying to pound its way out of my chest, but my voice was steady when I replied, “Are there other options that you prefer?”
“Rather but I haven't made a decision. We agreed to make decs. together. I could serve in one of the branches of the military. He could get me in despite my age. Now I know this would separate us and cause you to fret but it is second in my preferences as I'd feel like I am really doing something for England.”
Hoping that I would find his first choice to be more acceptable, I asked, “What is your first choice?”
To my surprise, Mr. Wooster stood up again. He tenderly wrapped the eiderdown around me and placed a kiss on my forehead. I could see excitement in his eyes and was certain that his first selection was something he truly wanted. My heart began its rush of anxiety, fearing what he might wish to do.
Standing in front of me, he said, “The cove thought I would be perfect for the Observer Corps.”
His eyes met mine, eager enthusiasm clearly displayed in the bright blue. “Jeeves, sometimes the aeroplanes brought down are ours. The Observer Corps help prevent that by identifying approaching aeroplanes so the gunners know if they're friend or foe. They also guide lost friendly aeroplanes to safety.”
As Mr. Wooster talked, he began to walk back and forth in front of me, his voice rose slightly as he spoke, his face brightened, and he waved his hands in the air. Relief flooded through me. This was something I could endure.
He continued, “I'd be helping the RAF, Jeeves, without causing you to fret. I'd be doing something that is very important.”
I asked, “Where would you have to go? Would we be able to see each other?”
He returned to his chair, one hand sliding under the eiderdown to rest on my arm. “I couldn't ask him if I'd be separated from you. Instead I asked if I would need lodging somewhere. He said I probably wouldn't; that it was likely that I'd be assigned a post close to home. It doesn't sound as if I'd be lugged away from you.”
“How much danger would you be in?”
“I don't know. I wouldn't be able to discuss my duties, therefore I don't believe the Jerries would be making a target of the Wooster person, since our location shouldn't be common knowledge.”
He fell silent, but I was aware of his quick glances at me. I was conscious that this was what he wished, but I wanted him to state his desire. “This is your preference?”
“Absolutely. I'd be doing something important.”
“I have no objections.”
Excited, he jumped up. I stood up and gathered him into my embrace.
He held me tightly and said, “Thank you, old chap.”
“I understand the need to be of aid to our country now. Perhaps you could write Mrs. Travers? You may not be able to tell her much information about your future plans, but I am certain she would be glad to hear that you are not entering the Regulars.”
His embrace became even tighter. “While you go to your room, what?”
“That was not my plan. I thought we might share the desk. I would like to pen a letter to Mrs. Wright and send her our address.”
Rubbing his back, I said, “I love you. I am grateful for your consideration of my feelings while you were reviewing the options.”
“I love you, too. I wish you could stay here with me tonight.”
I was cognisant that it was not intimacy he truly desired. The reality of the coming changes in our lives with so many things out of our control made us both yearn to stay close to each other. I did not want Mr. Wooster to concentrate on the future, however.
Nuzzling his neck, I said, “I wish I could stay here, too. Still, the evening has not grown old, and I believe we can find a discreet way to be intimate before I retire to my room.” Sliding my hands up and down his legs, I whispered into his ear, “I love taking you in my mouth, feeling you grow as my tongue finds all your favourite places to be licked.”
He trembled in my arms and I smiled against his neck. “I love the way you try and always fail to be still. I feel the quiver in your legs as my tongue lavishes your glans with my devotion. I love the heat and smoothness of your flesh as it finds pleasure within my mouth.”
Ignoring the choked sound from Mr. Wooster, I said, “You fill my mouth, giving me such delight that I can think of nothing but you and only you.”
“Reg, please...”
It was quite some time later before we sat down to write those letters.
Tbc
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