Jeeves and the Wedding Bells(22)
Jeeves, having pushed out the dent in the rear bumper, took the wheel of the two-seater in a sporting tweed cap, while I donned his bowler. Considering all it had to encompass, it came as no surprise that this hat was several sizes too large. Only some nifty work by Jeeves with tissue paper and cow gum round the inner rim prevented the thing from falling over my eyes.
We said au revoir to Seaview Cottage as the engine coughed twice and fired into life. Jeeves was a more careful driver than Georgiana, and it was not fear for my personal safety that caused an odd feeling in the pit of the stomach as we swung off the main village street and up the lime-tree avenue towards the distant prospect of Melbury Hall.
‘Once more unto the breach, sir.’
For once I thought I wouldn’t let him have the last word in quotations. ‘“I see their knavery: this is to make an ass of me,”’ I spouted from memory. ‘“To fright me, if they could.”’
‘Very apt, sir.’
‘I played the part of Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at school when I was sixteen. It’s funny how the lines you learn at that age stay with you for life. I couldn’t learn it if you paid me now.’
‘The young mind is undoubtedly more receptive, sir. Was your performance well received?’
‘Tolerably so. The Chronicle, as I recall, said, “Wooster gave it all he’d got.”’
‘Most gratifying, sir.’
‘Why are we going this way?’
‘So that I can drop you off, if I may, sir, at the tradesmen’s entrance.’
CASTING AN ENVIOUS eye over the duck downs and woollen coverings of the four-poster where Jeeves sat propped among the pillows, sipping his morning tea, I found it easy enough to picture how well he had slept.
‘How’s the tea?’ I said.
‘Most refreshing, thank you, sir.’
‘You’d better thank Mrs Tilman. She made it.’
‘Ah, yes. She is said to be a most capable woman.’
‘Lucky old Mr Tilman, what?’
‘Doubtless he appreciated her talents while alive, sir.’
‘Oh dear. She seems young to be a widow.’
‘He was taken in the prime of life, I believe. How was your own accommodation, sir?’
‘Who are those Indian chaps who sleep on nails?’
‘Fakirs, sir.’
‘Well, if you bump into one, do recommend the top floor back at Melbury Hall. I think he’d find it right up his street.’
‘I shall bear that in mind, sir, though in Melbury-cum-Kingston the contingency is a remote one.’
‘Is it always so bally uncomfortable?’
‘The accommodation varies considerably in my experience, sir. The opulence of the main house is by no means a reliable guide.’
‘Go on.’
‘Totleigh Towers, Sir Watkyn Bassett’s residence—’
‘Or castle, near as dammit.’
‘Indeed, sir. While it is a most imposing building, the word among the servants is that their rooms have not been touched since the reign of William IV.’
‘Stingy old chap, Bassett.’
‘Brinkley Court, on the other hand, Mrs Travers’s house, is always a pleasure to visit.’
‘Leftovers from Anatole’s wizardry?’
‘It is not merely the excellent table, sir. My bedroom is most comfortably equipped with a view of the garden, a strong reading light and an adjacent bathroom. There is invariably a vase of fresh flowers on the chest.’
‘A bit of favouritism from Aunt Dahlia, I suspect. Anyway, enough of this gossip, Jeeves. Today sees Plan A swing into action.’
‘Might I suggest that you first have a word with the butler, sir? Since you are working for Lord Etringham and not for the household, there should be little constraint on your freedom of movement. However, I have always found it good practice to consult the butler at the start of the day. Mr Bicknell is well-regarded below stairs, I understand, but somewhat old-fashioned.’
‘Go and pay my respects, you mean. Clock in.’
‘Exactly, sir.’
‘But I’ll have some time off?’
‘The mornings and evenings are generally busy, but the afternoon should see few demands on your time.’
‘Is that when you do your Spinoza-ing?’
‘I have always found that the hours after luncheon are the most propitious for the rational philosophers, sir.’
‘Any idea when I might be able to corner Amelia for Plan A?’
‘I fear not, sir, though Mrs Tilman, I am told, is the fons et origo of all such domestic information.’
‘Right ho, Jeeves. Shall I take the tea tray? I suppose you can toddle down to breakfast without my help. I think I can smell the bacon now.’