(no subject)
Title: A Little Space to Weep
Chapter Title: Smile boys that the style
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.
Chapter 9
She must have gone home while I was asleep. Now dressed in a knitted pullover and sort of brown skirt-beige I think it’s called- Caroline sat down beside the bed. Her hands picked rapidly at the hem.
“William said you wanted to talk to me.” She said, her eyes fixed on it. I didn’t. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to avoid this conversation. But I knew Rivers, I knew he wouldn’t rest and the worst thing was I knew he was right.
“About Curly.”
I swallowed. “Caroline, I…”
“It’s alright.” Tears half hung. “Curly . He would have wanted you to be happy.” She paused and quoted. “Better to forget and be happy, than remember and be sad.”
I shook my head, shocked. “I’d never forget him.”
“I Know.” She paused, “But this…” She looked around the room, as though seeking something beyond her control. “This sort of half morning, half manic depressive, it does no one any good, least of all you. You’re not cut out to be the Widow of Windsor.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted by the compassion to the late queen.
“Just,” She fiddled with her jumper again. “Don’t shut me out of your life, please. We’re friends, Bertie, aren’t we?”
I looked at her and for a moment, I could see the child who was kept at home, while her brother was sent off to school. Not literally, I mean, metowhatis.
She looked sad and scared. I took a deep breath and began to sing.
“It’s a long way to St. Paul’s, it’s a long way to go.” Caroline looked at me, slightly uncertainly, as I continued. “It’s a long, long way to St. Paul’s, to the sweetest girl, I know.” Caroline began smiling. “Goodbye Piccadilly, farewell Leicester square. It’s a long, long way to St Paul’s, but my heart lies there.”
Caroline was grinning, as she began with the refrain. “Pack up your troubles in your old kitbag and smile, smile smile. While you’ve a Lucifer to light your fag, smile boys that the style. What’s the use of worrying, it never was worthwhile, So”
We finished together. “Pack up your troubles in your old kitbag and smile, smile, smile,” Just as the door opened and Rivers and Jeeves entered. They both stared at us like we were mad.
Chapter Title: Smile boys that the style
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.
Chapter 9
She must have gone home while I was asleep. Now dressed in a knitted pullover and sort of brown skirt-beige I think it’s called- Caroline sat down beside the bed. Her hands picked rapidly at the hem.
“William said you wanted to talk to me.” She said, her eyes fixed on it. I didn’t. In fact, I wanted nothing more than to avoid this conversation. But I knew Rivers, I knew he wouldn’t rest and the worst thing was I knew he was right.
“About Curly.”
I swallowed. “Caroline, I…”
“It’s alright.” Tears half hung. “Curly . He would have wanted you to be happy.” She paused and quoted. “Better to forget and be happy, than remember and be sad.”
I shook my head, shocked. “I’d never forget him.”
“I Know.” She paused, “But this…” She looked around the room, as though seeking something beyond her control. “This sort of half morning, half manic depressive, it does no one any good, least of all you. You’re not cut out to be the Widow of Windsor.”
I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted by the compassion to the late queen.
“Just,” She fiddled with her jumper again. “Don’t shut me out of your life, please. We’re friends, Bertie, aren’t we?”
I looked at her and for a moment, I could see the child who was kept at home, while her brother was sent off to school. Not literally, I mean, metowhatis.
She looked sad and scared. I took a deep breath and began to sing.
“It’s a long way to St. Paul’s, it’s a long way to go.” Caroline looked at me, slightly uncertainly, as I continued. “It’s a long, long way to St. Paul’s, to the sweetest girl, I know.” Caroline began smiling. “Goodbye Piccadilly, farewell Leicester square. It’s a long, long way to St Paul’s, but my heart lies there.”
Caroline was grinning, as she began with the refrain. “Pack up your troubles in your old kitbag and smile, smile smile. While you’ve a Lucifer to light your fag, smile boys that the style. What’s the use of worrying, it never was worthwhile, So”
We finished together. “Pack up your troubles in your old kitbag and smile, smile, smile,” Just as the door opened and Rivers and Jeeves entered. They both stared at us like we were mad.