The Jeeves Omnibus (354 page)

‘What, what, where?’ I responded, not getting it.

‘The cat. Has he brought it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is it in your bosom?’

I saw the time had come. Shrink though I might from revealing the awful truth, it had to be done. I took a deep breath. It was some small comfort to feel that she was at the end of the telephone wire a mile and a half away. You can never be certain what aunts will do when at close quarters. Far less provocation in my earlier days had led this one to buffet me soundly on the side of the head.

‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s gone.’

‘Gone? Gone where?’

‘Billy Graham has taken it back.’

‘Taken it
back
?’

‘To Eggesford Court. I told him to.’

‘You
told
him to?’

‘Yes. You see—’

That concluded for a considerable space of time my share in the duologue, for she got into high with the promptness which I had anticipated. She spoke as follows:

‘Hell’s bells! Ye gods! Angels and ministers of grace defend us! He brought the cat, and you deliberately turned it from your door, though you knew what it meant to me. Letting the side down! Failing me in my hour of need! Bringing my grey hairs in sorrow to the grave! And after all I’ve done for you, you miserable ungrateful worm. Do you remember me telling you that when you were a babe and suckling and looking, I may add in passing, like a badly poached egg, you nearly swallowed your rubber comforter, and if I hadn’t jerked it out in time, you would have choked to death? It would go hard for you if you swallowed your rubber comforter now. I wouldn’t stir a finger. Do you remember when you had measles and I gave up hours of my valuable time to playing tiddlywinks with you and letting you beat me without a murmur?’

I could have disputed that. My victories had been due entirely to skill. I haven’t played much tiddlywinks lately, but in those boyhood days I was pretty hot stuff at the pastime. I did not
mention
this, however, because she was proceeding and I didn’t like to interrupt the flow.

‘Do you remember when you were at that private school of yours I used to send you parcels of food at enormous expense because you said you were about to expire from starvation? Do you remember when you were at Oxford—’

‘Stop, aged r.,’ I cried, for she had touched me deeply with these reminiscences of the young Wooster. ‘You’re breaking my heart.’

‘You haven’t got a heart. If you had, you wouldn’t have driven that poor defenceless cat out into the snow. All I asked of you was to give it a bed in the spare room for a few days and so place my financial affairs on a sound basis, but you wouldn’t do a trifling service for me which would have cost you nothing except a bob or two for milk and fish. What, I ask myself, has become of the old-fashioned nephew to whom his aunt’s wishes were law? They don’t seem to be making them nowadays.’

At this point Nature took its toll. She had to pause to take in breath, and I was enabled to speak.

‘Old blood relation,’ I said, ‘you are under a what-is-it.’

‘What is what?’

‘The thing people get under. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Begins with mis. Ah, I’ve got it, misapprehension. I’ve heard Jeeves use the word. Your view of my behaviour with the above cat is all cockeyed. I disapproved of your pinching it, because I felt that such an action stained the escutcheon of the Woosters, but I would have given it bed and board, however reluctantly, had it not been for Plank.’

‘Plank?’

‘Major Plank the explorer.’

‘What’s he got to do with it?’

‘Everything. You’ve probably heard of Major Plank.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘Well, he’s one of those chaps who have native bearers and things and go exploring. Who was it out in Africa somewhere who met the other fellow and presumed he was Doctor something? Plank is, or was, in the same line of business.’

A snort came over the wire, nearly fusing it.

‘Bertie,’ said the blood relation, now having taken aboard an adequate supply of air, ‘I am hampered by being at the other end of the telephone, but were I within reach of you I would give you one on the side of the head which you wouldn’t forget
in
a hurry. Tell me in a few simple words what you think you’re talking about.’

‘I’m talking about Plank. And what I’m trying to establish is that Plank, though an explorer, is not exploring now. He is staying with Cook at Eggesford Court.’

‘So what?’

‘So jolly well this. He dropped in on me shortly after Billy Graham had clocked in and left the cat. It was with Jeeves in the kitchen, having one for the tonsils. And while Plank was there it yowled, and Plank of course heard it. You don’t need to be told the upshot. Plank goes back to Cook, tells him he thought he heard a cat at Wooster’s address, and Cook, already suspicious of me after our unfortunate encounter, comes down here like a wolf on the fold, his cohorts all gleaming with purple and gold. I ought to add that I told Plank that the cat he heard was not a cat but Jeeves imitating cats, and he believed it all right because explorers are simple-minded bozos who believe everything they’re told, but will the story get over with Cook? Not a hope. There was nothing for me to do but tell Billy Graham to return the cat.’

I suppose one of the top-notch barristers could have put it more clearly, but not much more. She was silent for a space. Musing, no doubt, and weighing this against that. Finally she spoke.

‘I see.’

‘Good.’

‘You appear not to have been such a non-cooperative hellhound as I thought you were.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Sorry I ticked you off with such vigour.’

‘Quite all right, aged relative.
Tout comprendre c’est tout pardonner
.’

‘Yes, I suppose it was the only thing you could do. But don’t expect any hallelujahs from me. My whole plan of campaign has gone phut.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps everything will be all right. Simla may win anyway.’

‘Yes, but one did like to feel that one was betting on a certainty. It’s no good trying to cheer me up. I feel awful.’

‘Me, too.’

‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘I’m engaged to be married to a girl I can’t stand the sight of.’

‘What, another? Who is it this time?’

‘Vanessa Cook.’

‘Any relation to old Cook?’

‘His daughter.’

‘How did it happen?’

‘I proposed to her a year ago, and she turned me down, and just now she blew in and said she had changed her mind and would marry me. Came as a nasty shock.’

‘You should have told her to go and boil her head.’

‘I couldn’t.’

‘Why couldn’t you?’

‘Not
preux
.’

‘Not what?’

‘
Preux
. P for potted meat, r for rissole, e for egg nog, and so on. You’ve heard of a
preux chevalier
? It is my aim to be one.’

‘Oh, well, if you go about being
preux
, you must expect to get into trouble. But I wouldn’t worry. You’re bound to wriggle out of it somehow. You told me once that you had faith in your star. The girls you’ve been engaged to and have escaped from would reach, if placed end to end, from Piccadilly to Hyde Park Corner. I won’t believe you’re married till I see the bishop and assistant clergy mopping their foreheads and saying, “Well, that’s that. We’ve really got the young blighter off at last.”’

And with these words of cheer she rang off.

You would rather have expected that it would have been with a light heart that I returned to
By Order Of The Czar
. Such, however, was not the case. I had squared myself with the old flesh and blood and so had put a stopper on her wrath, a continuance of which might have resulted in her barring me from her table for an indefinite period, thus depriving me of the masterpieces of her French chef Anatole, God’s gift to the gastric juices, but, as I say, the h. was not 1. I could not but mourn for the collapse of the aged relative’s hopes and dreams, a collapse for which I, though a mere toy in the hands of Fate, was bound to consider myself responsible.

I said as much to Jeeves when he came in with the materials for the pre-dinner cocktail.

‘My heart is heavy, Jeeves,’ I said, after expressing gratification at the sight of the fixings.

‘Indeed, sir? Why is that?’

‘I have just been having a painful scene with Aunt Dahlia. Well, when I say scene that’s not quite the right word, the
conversation
having been conducted over the telephone. Did Graham get off all right?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Accompanied by cat?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘That’s what I was telling her, and she became a bit emotional. You never hunted with the Quorn or the Pytchley, did you, Jeeves? It seems to do something to the vocabulary. Lends a speaker eloquence. The old flesh and blood didn’t have to pause to pick her words, they came out like bullets from a machine-gun. I was thankful we weren’t talking face to face. Goodness knows what might have happened if we had been.’

‘You should have told Mrs Travers the facts relating to Major Plank, sir.’

‘I did, the moment I could get a word in edgeways, and it was that that acted like … like what?’

‘Balm in Gilead, sir?’

‘Exactly. I was going to say manna in the wilderness, but balm in Gilead hits it off better. She calmed down and admitted that I couldn’t have done anything else but return the cat.’

‘Most satisfactory, sir.’

‘Yes, that part of it is all pretty smooth, but there’s one other thing that’s weighing on me a bit. I’m engaged to be married.’

14

AS ALWAYS WHEN
I tell him I’m engaged to be married, he betrayed no emotion, continuing to look as if he had been stuffed by a good taxidermist. It is not his place, he would say if you asked him, to go beyond the basic formalities on these occasions.

‘Indeed, sir?’ he said.

Usually this about covers it, and I don’t discuss my predicament with him. I feel it wouldn’t be seemly, if that’s the word, and I know he would feel it wouldn’t be seemly, so with both of us feeling it wouldn’t be seemly we talk of other matters.

But this was a special occasion. Never before had I become betrothed to someone who would make me cut out smoking and cocktails, and in my opinion this made the subject a legitimate one for debate. When you’re up against it as I was, it is essential to exchange views with a mastermind, if you can get hold of one, however unseemly it may be.

So when he added, ‘May I offer my congratulations, sir,’ I replied with lines which were not on the routine.

‘No, Jeeves, you may not, not by a jugful. You see before you a man who is as near to being what is known as a toad at Harrow as a man can be who was educated at Eton. I’m in sore straits, Jeeves.’

‘I am sorry to hear that, sir.’

‘You’ll be sorrier when I explain further. Have you ever seen a garrison besieged by howling savages, with their ammunition down to the last box of cartridges, the water supply giving out and the United States Marines nowhere in sight?’

‘Not to my recollection, sir.’

‘Well, my position is roughly that of such a garrison, except that compared with me they’re sitting pretty. Compared with me they haven’t a thing to worry about.’

‘You fill me with alarm, sir.’

‘I bet I do, and I haven’t even started yet. I will begin by saying that Miss Cook, to whom I’m engaged, is a lady for whom I have the utmost esteem and respect, but on certain matters we do not … what’s the expression?’

‘See eye to eye, sir?’

‘That’s right. And unfortunately those matters are the what-d’you-call-it of my whole policy. What is it that policies have?’

‘I think the word for which you are groping, sir, may possibly be cornerstone.’

‘Thank you, Jeeves. She disapproves of a variety of things which are the cornerstone of my policy. Marriage with her must inevitably mean that I shall have to cast them from my life, for she has a will of iron and will have no difficulty in making her husband jump through hoops and snap sugar off his nose. You get what I mean?’

‘I do, sir. A very colourful image.’

‘Cocktails, for instance, will be barred. She says they are bad for the liver. Have you noticed, by the way, how frightfully lax everything’s getting now? In Queen Victoria’s day a girl would never have dreamed of mentioning livers in mixed company.’

‘Very true, sir.
Tempora mutanter, nos et mutamar in illis
.’

‘That, however, is not the worst.’

‘You horrify me, sir.’

‘At a pinch I could do without cocktails. It would be agony, but we Woosters can rough it. But she says I must give up smoking.’

‘This was indeed the most unkindest cut of all, sir.’

‘Give up smoking, Jeeves!’

‘Yes, sir. You will notice that I am shuddering.’

‘The trouble is that she is greatly under the influence of a pal of hers called Tolstoy. I’ve never met him, but he seems to have the most extraordinary ideas. You won’t believe this, Jeeves, but he says that no one needs to smoke, as equal pleasure can be obtained by twirling the fingers. The man must be an ass. Imagine a posh public dinner – one of those “decorations will be worn” things. The royal toast has been drunk, strong men are licking their lips at the thought of cigars, and the toastmaster bellows “Gentlemen, you may twirl your fingers.” Don’t tell me there wouldn’t be a flat feeling, a sense of disappointment. Do you know anything about this fellow Tolstoy? You ever heard of him?’

‘Oh, yes, sir. He was a very famous Russian novelist.’

‘Russian, eh? Well, there you are. And a novelist? He didn’t write
By Order Of The Czar
, did he?’

‘I believe not, sir.’

‘I thought he might have under another name. You say “was”. Is he no longer with us?’

‘No, sir. He died some years ago.’

‘Good for him. Twirl your fingers! Too absurd. I’d laugh only she says I mustn’t laugh because another pal of hers, called Chesterfield, didn’t. Well, she needn’t worry. The way things are shaping I haven’t anything to laugh about. For I’ve not mentioned the principal objection to the marriage. Don’t jump to the hasty conclusion that I mean because a father-in-law like Cook is included in the package deal. I grant you that that’s enough by itself to darken the horizon, but what’s on my mind is the thought of Orlo Porter.’