Fic: Troubled Times chapter 35 part 1
Title: Troubled Times
Chapter 35
Author: Emerald
Beta : jestana Thank you very much! I greatly appreciate your work and advice!
Inspiration and Encourager: ironicbees
Rating: Mature.
Disclaimer: Wooster and Jeeves belong to Wodehouse.
Summary: The story deals with the time before, during, and after WWII.
My stories: www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml
I was up early the next morning as there were many tasks awaiting me. I placed a call to the agency that had found the cottage for us when we had wished to move from London. Mr. Burton told me what I already suspected would be the case. He said, “There's a shortage of places these days. The Jerries have made many people homeless. I'll send you the listings currently available.”
Chandler arrived early that afternoon. After I welcomed him inside, he said, “Are you planning on leaving us soon, Jeeves?”
“Yes, sir. I had intended to call you today and give our two weeks notice. Mr. Wooster will be departing, also.”
He nodded. “I thought so. I need Wooster next week but you two are free after that. I know you'll require time to find a place to live.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
He said, “I need to have a private conversation with Wooster.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chandler did not stay long. When he had departed, I joined my employer. Mr. Wooster was sitting on the settee, looking thoughtful. He motioned for me to sit next to him.
When I was seated, he said, “Chandler told me that there is a cove in the metrop. he wants me to report to when we get settled in a new spot. He stated that this chap could put my skills to better use than the Home Guard. He didn't tell me much else besides for how to contact the bird. It's the same blighter that I was told about at school. I informed Chandler that I don't want to be a sniper.”
My employer grinned. “He told me not to be ridiculous; if my country needs me as a sniper then I should expect to be one. He also said that he had more sense then to believe that was a good use of my talents, however, and he was not sending me to someone with a recommendation that I become a sniper. He said they had other things in mind. He didn't tell me what those things were.”
“You should see the man after our move. There is no harm in finding out more.”
“Agreed.” He leaned forward to kiss me but before our lips met he abruptly halted. “I'm expecting Heffie to breeze in sometime today and he has a habit of interrupting our kisses.”
“I will take that risk, sir.”
It was almost thirty minutes later before Mr. Heflner arrived and by that time Mr. Wooster was reading alone on the settee and I was cleaning the bedrooms.
When Mr. Heflner came into the house, his eyes met mine and I saw within his gaze resigned sadness. Then he glanced away and said, “Are you and Bertie planning to push off somewhere?”
Gently I said, “Yes, sir. I have started to search for a residence north west of London. We intend to keep this cottage and when the war is over we will live here for part of each year.”
He answered, “I'm glad for that.”
He met my eyes once more and said, “I won't make fading harder on Bertie, if I can help it. I can keep a stiff upper lip and I will.”
“Thank you, sir.”
When he arrived in the sitting room, I heard him state to Mr. Wooster, “Wright believes the break from the rain should last for a few more hours. I'm going to exercise the horses. Do you want to take Zenith and go with me?”
“That would be jolly good!”
Not long after they had departed, I placed a telephone call to Erlin. We exchanged greetings and questions about each other's welfare then I asked about Roberts' employer.
Erlin replied, “Baxter is holding Mr. Lewis together. I do not know what was in that letter Wright wrote for him, but it has helped. Baxter manages to get Mr. Lewis to a shelter during the evening hate now. Mr. Lewis has been sober since Baxter received that communication from Wright. Baxter is handling his employer's business, too, since Mr. Lewis is not capable of dealing with it.”
“Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”
“I think you already did the best thing possible for Mr. Lewis when you gave Wright's letter to Baxter. I do not know if you are aware of it, but Baxter wrote Wright, and I guess Wright volunteered to listen to him when he needed to talk. They talk once a week. They would probably chat more except we are not supposed to keep the telephone lines busy these days. The week of the fire Baxter had trouble getting through to Wright, and he was just miserable. They have become good friends. Baxter is grieving, too, but he has to be strong for Mr. Lewis. I believe those conversations with Wright give him the strength to return to his duties once more.”
“I am glad they have become friends. They are both good men.”
There was no point in delaying the information I had to relate to Erlin. I said, “I am afraid I have some disturbing news.”
“Disturbing? That is not good. I never know with you if you mean disturbing as catastrophic or something mildly upsetting. Which one?”
“Upsetting. I had an interview with a man from the government and he claimed to have excerpts from the Junior Ganymede club book. However, he could have gained the knowledge elsewhere. I thought you should know of his assertion.”
“How could he possibly get excerpts from the book? It is kept locked up these days and...” He paused and then said, “Jeeves, you know that I would not give my master passages from the book and you know why.”
“Yes, I know.” I said nothing else, letting Erlin think the issue through to the obvious conclusion.
After a moment he did and said, “If it becomes common knowledge that someone in the government has parts of the book then I could possibly be blamed as my master is in the SIS, so people might think I would give him information. Additionally, before the war the club's secretary kept the key, but I have had it since the man was called up.”
“Considering that I am being asked to not speak of this matter, I would say that it is unlikely to become common knowledge.”
We were both very conscious that Mr. Margesson would take quite an exception to having accounts about himself written down. The man would feel that Erlin had not taken seriously the need for discretion that his employer's career required.
Two years before the war, I had confided the situation to Mr. Wooster. He had said, “I wouldn't want to go through life keeping a secret of that nature, the kind that would hurt you like billy-o if you found out. I'd rather throw it out and deal with it than hold it in for years and years. Better sooner than later.”
Erlin, however, had been too frightened to tell Mr. Margesson then and now that England was at war and the need for discretion was even higher, I could easily imagine that his employer's reaction would be very distressing.
As if confirming my thoughts, Erlin said, “I just cannot tell him, Jeeves. He loves his career. He would see this as something that endangers it. I honestly believe that finding out about it would hurt worse than if he discovered that I had cheated. Not that I would ever do such a thing! It is going to be very ironic if I get accused of giving my master passages from the book when I cannot even tell him about it.”
'What happens,' I thought, 'if someone goes to his master with the section of the book that Erlin wrote about him?' I wished now that I had urged Erlin to conduct himself as Mr. Wooster would have done under similar circumstances.
Gently I said, “Still it would be better if he heard about it from you than from someone else. I do understand, however. I have found matters of far less importance difficult to confess to Mr. Wooster.”
I did not add that Mr. Wooster had an easier nature than Mr. Margesson's but Erlin did. He said, “And Mr. Wooster is a very forgiving person. My employer rarely gets angry but when he does... I find it to be very painful. The last time Mr. Margesson was irate at me, he did not speak to me for three days. I know you are right, but I do not believe I have the courage it takes to tell him.
“Years ago when I first entered his employ, it was all so simple. Employers' feelings about matters were to be taken into account only when it related to my position in some way. Now he is my entire life and the trouble involved if he finds out about the book terrifies me. So I will just hope that he never learns about it.”
“Hopefully he never will,” I replied. “I have other news. Mr. Wooster and I are planning to relocate. We hope to find a residence somewhere in the vicinity of London.”
“That is great news! I will be glad to have you living a lot closer. Cumbria is too far away for my liking. When will the move take place?”
“I am uncertain. There are many things that have to be taken care of before we can move. I will write and let you know the date when it is set.”
The rest of our conversation concerned the relocation. As I placed the receiver back in its cradle, I thought, 'I did my duty by the club when I warned Erlin that it is possible the government has been given parts of the book. I have done the best I could for Erlin, too.'
*****************************************
That night over dinner I asked Mr. Wooster, “How was your afternoon?”
“Good. Heffie already knew that we are going to push off. I guess you told him?”
“Yes, sir. He asked.”
“He's taking it well, although I think some of that is keeping a stiff upper lip for my sake. We discussed visiting each other in the future and after the war. I told him there's no point in bunnying about what happens should we be forced to surrender. If we are conquered and get swallowed up by the Nazis, well, we just keep fighting it out until we shove them back into the Channel. If we win Heffie plans to take Wright and travel for a time. They're going to the States at some point. Heffie has cousins in Chicago, one of whom he's especially fond of, and they'll be pushing into New York City eventually, so maybe we can meet up there.”
“I would like that, sir.”
We ate silently for a few minutes then he said, “How was your afternoon, old chap?”
“Busy, sir.”
“I recall that you were going to chat with Erlin. Did you call him today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did he ever tell his employer, I believe the man's name was Margesson, about the book?”
“It is Margesson and no, sir. I wish now I had urged him to do as you had stated you would. Hopefully Mr. Margesson will never find out about the book, but I wish Erlin had told him before the war.”
He took a bite of the roasted chicken before asking, “So if this Smith that chatted with you has parts of the book, he definitely didn't get said p. from Erlin.”
“Indeed, sir.”
Mr. Wooster frowned. “Didn't you tell me that Margesson is in the SIS?”
“Yes, sir.”
The frown deepened and he said, “He is liable to be very pipped if he finds out now. Careless talk cost lives; that little saying is plastered all over these days.”
I managed to keep a frown away from my own face. My employer was using the expression enough for both of us. I said, “That hardly helps, sir.”
Mr. Wooster grimaced at his baked potato as if it was personally responsible for Erlin's predicament. He said, “Jeeves, old chap, when I said I'd tell you if I had a secret of that nature I meant it. Still do but with Erlin it has now reached a point that I'm not so sure he should. It depends. If Margesson is going to be so hurt that there will be no gathering up of the threads afterwards it might be best for Erlin to keep mum.”
“I am not certain that silence is wise. What if someone tells Mr. Margesson about the book?”
“If the cove is going to chuck away the relationship when he finds out then by telling him now Erlin loses all the time he would have up until someone does spill the beans. I don't know, Jeeves. The Wooster conscience would kick something fierce if I wasn't on the up and up with you.”
Mr. Wooster's fingers wrapped around mine; his thumb rubbing over the palm of my hand. “Margesson loves Erlin, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then if the shoe falls, Erlin is going to have to believe in their love. That's the nub of it, my man. At least it is to me; does one trust in the love enough to be willing to ankle on the ice knowing it won't crack on you and let the icy water drown you? I realise that's not much help, either.” He returned to eating.
“It is comforting. I am hopeful that love for Erlin will cause Mr. Margesson to be understanding should the need arrive.”
Mr. Wooster did not reply. He sat eating silently and after a moment I placed my fork down and said, “You do comprehend why I viewed the book as a necessity?”
Surprised captured his features and I knew that whatever his thoughts had been they had not included criticism of me.
He said, “Jolly well, yes. It was to aid you, well, not you specifically but valets and butlers in general, to land a good position. So one doesn't end up working for someone who throws oatmeal. You were level with me about this matter and we've chatted about it. The onion wasn't tossing ballyrags about, old fruit. I was being thankful.”
“Thankful, sir?”
“Thankful, Jeeves,” Mr. Wooster said firmly. “I trust our love enough to walk on ice with you. I'm thankful for what we have.”
His trust humbled me. I cherished his trust as much as I did his love since without trust love cannot thrive. I ceased eating and took his hand in my own. I said, “I love you dearly. I trust you, too.”
He squeezed my hand.
I said, “I am very certain that we could walk on ice and be perfectly safe. You have not even informed me that you were right about the book. You surely must have wanted to more than once.”
“Thank you, Jeeves.” He flashed me a grin and continued to eat.
*******************************************
The next morning the mail brought listings from the real estate agency. Mr. Wooster and I went over them at breakfast, slowly dismissing each place. When we were finished, my employer sighed. “Not much here and some of them are rather rummy. Let's go through them again.”
After a few minutes, he said, “Maybe this one, Jeeves?”
I glanced at the paper he held and shook my head. “There is no shelter. The place does not have room for the piano.”
“It might have a shelter. It doesn't say one way or another. We could have an Anderson built. How about this one? It has a cellar.”
“It is too big. I suspect it will be impossible to keep warm and difficult to maintain.”
“Well, what about this lair?”
“It is too far from London.”
Once more he glanced through the advertisements. He said, “I'm fond of indoor plumbing, Jeeves. I rather like electricity, too. I suppose I could do without both, though. Maybe... this one?”
I read the statements concerning the house. “No electricity. There is no shelter mentioned. I do not believe there is room for one in the small garden.”
“This one, perhaps?”
I studied the paper and shook my head. “It is located in an area that has been bombed. Besides, it is too small.”
We exchanged frustrated glances. I took the papers and said, “If I might make a suggestion?”
“Suggest all you want, old chap.”
“I could go over the listings this afternoon and make notes detailing the advantages and disadvantages of each residence. We could discuss the topic again after dinner.”
“That's a pippin of an idea. Put the ones you prefer on top, what?”
“Consider it done, sir.”
He smiled at me. “Thank you.”
***********************************
That evening we sat at the table with the papers in front of us. He picked up the first one and read over it. He said, “This is the one you said was too big and would be difficult to maintain.”
“Yes, sir, but having given it some thought I believe it is our best choice. Wright manages a bigger residence.”
“I don't want you trying to take care of everything while working elsewhere. Still, I'm willing to take a dekko at this den because you are going to have to allow the old master to do a few things for himself. I won't have you working for hours there then bunging home to toil and labour some more.”
This brought up a subject that I had been deliberately avoiding as I dreaded having to discuss it. Nevertheless, the issue had to be dealt with at some point and I reluctantly concluded that now was as good a time as any other.
I said, “We should discuss my salary. I cannot continue to receive the same wages from you, if I am working elsewhere. We can judge after the first two weeks but at the very least my compensation should be reduced.”
“What rot, Jeeves.” Mr. Wooster's jaw set, and inwardly I sighed. He was intending to be stubborn.
He said, “They aren't going to be paying you much at all. By taking wages from me, you are permitting me to share my clams with you, as if you were my spouse. Which I thought we agreed that you are.”
He got to his feet in an angry movement, but I discerned that he was more frustrated than irate. He did not enjoy discussing this topic any more than I did.
In what I hoped was a soothing tone, I said, “We are in concord on this matter. I am your spouse. However, people might talk if I continue to receive the same wages while performing fewer tasks.”
“There shouldn't be any talk. I don't go around telling all and sundry what I pay my valet. In fact, most people probably believe that I'm too much of a dimwit to know what your wages are.”
“The bank will know and I would prefer that no one thinks I am taking advantage of your good nature. It is not just a matter of what people will say. I cannot in good conscience accept my current wages from you.”
He was pacing the floor as I talked and I said, “Sir, please have a seat.”
Mr. Wooster returned to the chair and slumped down onto it. I comprehended that anxiety about the upcoming relocation and sadness by the partings involved with it had heightened his emotions.
“You must realise that you cannot continue to pay me the same amount. If anyone found out, there might be talk. I do consider myself to be your spouse, but we are discussing my earnings as your gentleman's personal gentleman. Nothing more.”
He shook his head. “Maybe that's all you're chatting about, but it isn't what I'm discussing. As far as I'm concerned your wages are my way of making sure we share in everything. But for a moment, let's talk about you being my valet. Are you my cupbearer or not?”
“I am now and always will be.”
“And when you go to Bletchley Park, will you still be my cupbearer?”
“Yes, and your spouse, also.” I disliked this discord between us and understood his point perfectly. “I would concede, sir, but what will we do if someone finds out you are still giving me the same amount as before?”
He said, “You could just declare that I'm mentally negligible and don't realise what you're earning.”
“I would find that to be very unsatisfactory.”
His arm went around my shoulders. “Is this really about what people might think?”
I comprehended what he was asking; was my resistance due to worry about someone guessing the true nature of our relationship or was it due to my pride?
“It is partly about that.”
“I thought so. You agree with me that what England will pay you for your services is barely enough to live on?”
Feeling that I was walking into a trap, knowing that he was backing me down from my position, I answered, “Yes, sir. However other people have to live off the same amount.”
“I'm not married to other people, only you. Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” I sighed, giving him that point, also.
“Then I say we leave your earnings alone. The bank has always been discreet about my finances. My solicitor has never made any remarks about where my money goes or for that matter where it will go should something happen to me. Heffie says that making public some thinggummy about someone's finances is a sure way to lose business fast.”
“And...” his tone was firm with a tinge of satisfaction in it, and I knew that I had lost the battle as he continued, “The fact that you're working for Ol' Blighty instead of serving the Wooster person is to be kept mum. These days people can't ask questions. I think we're safe.”
I sat there silently wondering how I had managed to lose the disagreement so quickly.
He picked up the papers with the residences' descriptions and said, “I don't guess you'd want to try getting a spot in the city?”
“No, sir.”
Putting the papers down, he said, “Make the arrangements to look at whatever you want. I'll follow along.”
I heard his words and perceived what was not said, too. He had won the argument over my salary but now in an attempt to restore any pride I felt I had forfeited, he was placing another matter entirely in my hands, if I so wished it to be. A decision that was far more important than my wages.
I said, “Thank you, sir.”