(no subject)
Title: A Little Space to Weep
Chapter Title: Say not soft things as other men have said.
Pairing: Wooster/OMC, Jeeves/Wooster in later chapters
Summary: There are some things Bertie can't talk about with Jeeves. Or what happened after Sir Roderick came to lunch
Rating: PG13?
Warnings: Reference to attempted suicide, homophobia, bad attitudes towards women, mental ill health, trenches and character death (OC)
Disclaimer: I wish I was talented enough to have created Jeeves and Wooster. But I'm not, they belong to P.G. Wodehouse's estate.
Edit: Now Betaed by erynn999.
“Tea Ms Hornsby?”
“Thank you Jeeves.” I heard the soft clink of a cup and saucer, before Caroline spoke again. “And, thank you for your help yesterday.”
“I fear I did little or nothing, Ms.”
“You didn’t send for men from the county Lunatic asylum. That’s a great deal.” There was a pause, before she added. “He’ll be alright. William, Dr. Rivers, says that sleep is often the best remedy, giving the body a chance to heal.”
“I would never question Dr. Rivers’s judgement.”
“But it doesn’t stop you worrying.” She laughed softly. “I worry too, but I think that’s part of the course with Bertie.” She paused and added. “I’m sorry he didn’t tell you either. It must have been a shock.”
“Not entirely Ms.” There was a pause, before Jeeves spoke. “Brinkley, a very inferior gentleman temporarily in Mr. Wooster’s employ mentioned his opinion that my employer was “barmy” to the Junior Ganymede’s, and early in my employ, Mr Wooster suffered several waking nightmares, as I believe the current medical terminology is.”
“Thought he was back in France.”
“Indeed Ms.”
“Poor Bertie.” She glanced. “Were you in the war?”
A pause, “Sorry, It’s unforgiveable of me to ask, but you look about the right age.”
“I was Ms.” Jeeves’s voice suggested that the subject was closed, but Caroline is not affected by such things as concern us less mortals.
“What Regiment?”
”The Royal Fulisers, Ms.” A pause. “I believe the pot could do with refreshing, Ms.”
There was the sound of a door closing and a pause, where Caroline whispered. “It can’t be. The coincidence…beggars belief.”
I drifted back to sleep.
***************************************
“You’ve been crying.” Rivers voice soft, the Scottish accent, he always claimed came from Edinburg where he studied more auditable.
“They’re good tears.” A pause, before Caroline added. “First time I’ve been able to cry, properly cry for Curly.”
“You couldn’t have believed…”
“I heard it happen to better men.” She sighed.
“You knew…”
“What did I know, William? Nothing. All they would say, all anyone would say was that it was hell. That’s all I knew about it. That and a few bits some of them let slip, or through poems.” There was a pause as she added. “Did you see the new one Rockefeller Todd published last month? Not as good as his war poetry of course, but no one will print them.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not. It’s all connected.” She sighed. “You’ve said yourself, the horrors of the mind are worse than any reality. What reality did we have, other than the results? We read about gas, about shelling, we saw men who’d lost limbs, and we weren’t supposed to understand or care, really. It was…” She froze, suddenly looking at me. “Bertie.”
“What ho old thing?” I tried to affect an air of casual jollity. Very hard when A. one has been caught eavesdropping on a private conservation and B. one is lying in bed in heliotrope pyjamas. Caroline got to her feet.
“I’ll go and see if Jeeves can rustle something up.” She got to her feet and almost ran from the room. I stared after the closing door.
“Don’t blame yourself, Bertie. Caroline doesn’t.” William got his feet and retrieved his bag. “She’s just relieved you’re alright. And grieving.”
”It’s been a long time since Curly died.”
William nodded. “Eight years.” He smiled. “But there’s no time limit on grief.” He paused and added. “You should know that.”
I started to nod, and then I paused, thinking. How long had it been since Curly was the first thing I thought about in the morning? The pain, once a agonising almost bone crushing sensation, was now a dull throb, almost like toothache. How long had it been?
Two years, since Jeeves came to me.
Rivers seemed to read it in my face. “Time heals all wounds, Bertie. It is the way of the world. And eventually, a new love will blossom. It does not eliminate the old love.” I lifted my head to look at him. “I loved a woman. She was very ill.” He turned his head away. “One evening, she took a walk down by the river. She never returned.” He paused, glancing at me. “I still think about her constantly. But it does not affect, or alter what I feel for Caroline. But I’ve been there. I’ve wrestled with my feelings. Eventually I had to accept that I had to tell her. Else go mad.” He swallowed. “But at the same time, I knew I couldn’t ask her, not yet. I had to heal. But I let her know how I felt.” He smiled. “She …she needed to heal to.” He looked at me properly. “You should tell her. She won’t be angry.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Rivers got to his feet. “Just talk to her.”
He stepped out.
Chapter Title: Say not soft things as other men have said.
Pairing: Wooster/OMC, Jeeves/Wooster in later chapters
Summary: There are some things Bertie can't talk about with Jeeves. Or what happened after Sir Roderick came to lunch
Rating: PG13?
Warnings: Reference to attempted suicide, homophobia, bad attitudes towards women, mental ill health, trenches and character death (OC)
Disclaimer: I wish I was talented enough to have created Jeeves and Wooster. But I'm not, they belong to P.G. Wodehouse's estate.
Edit: Now Betaed by erynn999.
“Tea Ms Hornsby?”
“Thank you Jeeves.” I heard the soft clink of a cup and saucer, before Caroline spoke again. “And, thank you for your help yesterday.”
“I fear I did little or nothing, Ms.”
“You didn’t send for men from the county Lunatic asylum. That’s a great deal.” There was a pause, before she added. “He’ll be alright. William, Dr. Rivers, says that sleep is often the best remedy, giving the body a chance to heal.”
“I would never question Dr. Rivers’s judgement.”
“But it doesn’t stop you worrying.” She laughed softly. “I worry too, but I think that’s part of the course with Bertie.” She paused and added. “I’m sorry he didn’t tell you either. It must have been a shock.”
“Not entirely Ms.” There was a pause, before Jeeves spoke. “Brinkley, a very inferior gentleman temporarily in Mr. Wooster’s employ mentioned his opinion that my employer was “barmy” to the Junior Ganymede’s, and early in my employ, Mr Wooster suffered several waking nightmares, as I believe the current medical terminology is.”
“Thought he was back in France.”
“Indeed Ms.”
“Poor Bertie.” She glanced. “Were you in the war?”
A pause, “Sorry, It’s unforgiveable of me to ask, but you look about the right age.”
“I was Ms.” Jeeves’s voice suggested that the subject was closed, but Caroline is not affected by such things as concern us less mortals.
“What Regiment?”
”The Royal Fulisers, Ms.” A pause. “I believe the pot could do with refreshing, Ms.”
There was the sound of a door closing and a pause, where Caroline whispered. “It can’t be. The coincidence…beggars belief.”
I drifted back to sleep.
***************************************
“You’ve been crying.” Rivers voice soft, the Scottish accent, he always claimed came from Edinburg where he studied more auditable.
“They’re good tears.” A pause, before Caroline added. “First time I’ve been able to cry, properly cry for Curly.”
“You couldn’t have believed…”
“I heard it happen to better men.” She sighed.
“You knew…”
“What did I know, William? Nothing. All they would say, all anyone would say was that it was hell. That’s all I knew about it. That and a few bits some of them let slip, or through poems.” There was a pause as she added. “Did you see the new one Rockefeller Todd published last month? Not as good as his war poetry of course, but no one will print them.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not. It’s all connected.” She sighed. “You’ve said yourself, the horrors of the mind are worse than any reality. What reality did we have, other than the results? We read about gas, about shelling, we saw men who’d lost limbs, and we weren’t supposed to understand or care, really. It was…” She froze, suddenly looking at me. “Bertie.”
“What ho old thing?” I tried to affect an air of casual jollity. Very hard when A. one has been caught eavesdropping on a private conservation and B. one is lying in bed in heliotrope pyjamas. Caroline got to her feet.
“I’ll go and see if Jeeves can rustle something up.” She got to her feet and almost ran from the room. I stared after the closing door.
“Don’t blame yourself, Bertie. Caroline doesn’t.” William got his feet and retrieved his bag. “She’s just relieved you’re alright. And grieving.”
”It’s been a long time since Curly died.”
William nodded. “Eight years.” He smiled. “But there’s no time limit on grief.” He paused and added. “You should know that.”
I started to nod, and then I paused, thinking. How long had it been since Curly was the first thing I thought about in the morning? The pain, once a agonising almost bone crushing sensation, was now a dull throb, almost like toothache. How long had it been?
Two years, since Jeeves came to me.
Rivers seemed to read it in my face. “Time heals all wounds, Bertie. It is the way of the world. And eventually, a new love will blossom. It does not eliminate the old love.” I lifted my head to look at him. “I loved a woman. She was very ill.” He turned his head away. “One evening, she took a walk down by the river. She never returned.” He paused, glancing at me. “I still think about her constantly. But it does not affect, or alter what I feel for Caroline. But I’ve been there. I’ve wrestled with my feelings. Eventually I had to accept that I had to tell her. Else go mad.” He swallowed. “But at the same time, I knew I couldn’t ask her, not yet. I had to heal. But I let her know how I felt.” He smiled. “She …she needed to heal to.” He looked at me properly. “You should tell her. She won’t be angry.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Rivers got to his feet. “Just talk to her.”
He stepped out.