Norbert and Smedley
76: Secrets
Jonesy’s pulse quickened and his palms grew sweaty as he approached Ms. Maple’s sitting room. Get a grip, now, Jonesy. You’re as nervous as a schoolboy, and here you are a grown man, he said to himself, not that it did any good. He stood a moment outside, collected his thoughts, and held his fist up, ready to knock. His courage faltered. I’ll just tell my brother that she wasn’t in, that she must have been roaming about the place. And I’ll tell the old girl that I wasn’t feeling to rights, and so I went to my bed. He started to turn on his heel, but stopped at the sound of the door’s handle turning.
It opened. And he found himself face to face with…
A beautiful young woman. So he hadn’t been imagining it. The face behind the gruff voice wasn’t that of an old maid, wrinkled beyond imagination, and the touch on his forearm had been the tender touch of youth. Or had it? Perhaps this wasn’t Maple. Perhaps this was someone else.
His voice shaking, Jonesy managed a weak, “H-hello?”
“Are you ill? Come in and sit by the fire. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
Jonesy sighed with relief. The voice had the same timbre, though the gruffness was gone.
“M-Maple?”
“Yes,” the woman laughed. “I think perhaps you were expecting my mother. That is on purpose, and this must be our secret. From the way you treat the boy, I thought I could perhaps trust you, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had someone I could trust.”
Jonesy didn’t quite know what to say, so he said nothing.
“There are a lot of secrets in this house, as you’ll soon find out.” At the look of alarm on Jonesy’s face, she rushed to reassure him, “Ah, but don’t worry, we’ve no dead bodies, and no creatures locked in the attic. Nor spies, or ghosts or evil things. But we’ve got secrets, nonetheless. And the one I’ll share tonight is that the sinecure is my mum’s, not mine. Smedley must find me indispensable before he learns my mum is too old and too ill to continue, or we’ll be turned out. That’s why I dress as I do and keep my face covered, and why I’m so careful to behave as she did and maintain the same odious decorum. But it’s so tiresome being hated all the time. I thought perhaps it would be nice to have one person who didn’t hate me.”
Jonesy nodded. He didn’t hate her, not at all. In fact, he was beginning to think that perhaps he should suggest to Smedley that they give up the flat in London entirely and move out to the country on a full-time basis.
“You do speak, don’t you?” asked Maple.
Jonesy coughed. “Oh. Why, yes. Yes, I do. What would you like me to say?”
77: Raincoat Redux
When Jeeves went up to Norbert’s room to get Woofington, he found Norbert and Smedley seated together with Woofington on the bed. Smedley was doubled over and appeared to be in pain. At first, Jeeves was alarmed, but then he realized Norbert was laughing heartily. Poor Smedley. He’ll learn to duck out of the way when Norbert has one of his laughing fits, I hope, or he won’t survive their friendship. “Sir?” said Jeeves. “I’ve come to see to the dog for the evening. Have the ladies retired?”
“Yes, Jeeves. Listen here, Jeeves. You won’t believe what dear Smedley said.”
“What, sir?”
“When we were talking about meeting his future relations tomorrow, he asked me when the proper time was to give them the envelope.” Norbert began to laugh heartily again. He slapped his knee, then shook his hand at the sting of it. He hadn’t been able to clap Smedley on the back that time because Smedley had taken a dive for the small sofa in the corner at the first sign of mirth, taking Woofington with him.
“Envelope, sir? What envelope?”
“Why, this one.” Norbert held a glint of silver pinched between his thumb and forefinger, but before Jeeves could get a good look at it, Smedley dove for it, wrested it from Norbert and returned it to his pocket.
“I didn’t see, sir.”
“It was a raincoat,” said Norbert.
“Right,” said Smedley. “Rather clever to fit them in those tiny packages. Though truly, I don’t see why Norbert thinks this is so funny, or why he can’t answer a simple question. Should I give it to Penelope’s mother before dinner, or wait until the end of the evening? The instructions he gave me really weren’t clear.”
“No, sir. Clearly they weren’t. May I suggest you join Woofington and me on our walk?”
“Walk? Why?”
“Because, I dare say, there’s a lot your friend Norbert hasn’t been clear on, and if we don’t get you straightened out, you’re likely to get yourself in a great deal of trouble. Of course, there’s some clearing up to be done with Mr. Norbert, too. Don’t know how you young folks get yourselves so twisted these days, but you certainly seem to manage it well enough.”
78: Birds and the Bees
Jeeves attached Woofington’s leash and waited for Smedley to grab his jacket. Then, with Smedley on one side and the large sheepdog on the other, he made his way down the stairs and out the back door. “I expect we can walk in the garden tonight. It’s lovely with the moon and the stars, and there’s no sense gallivanting around and breaking a leg. I don’t have a torch with me to light the path.”
“The garden is fine,” said Smedley amicably.
They walked in silence for a moment, while Jeeves thought about how best to approach the subject of women and all that pertained, given Smedley’s impending marriage. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Smedley, my boy, have you ever been with a woman?”
“Of course.”
Jeeves sighed with relief.
“My mother raised me, until that dreadful Lighthouse Incident, and then she shipped me off to my Aunt Cloris. And there was the housekeeper, and all of Aunt Cloris’ friends, so I expect you could say I’ve been with a great number of women. It would be odd if I hadn’t, wouldn’t you say?”
Jeeves coughed. “No. That wasn’t precisely what I meant. I was asking in the biblical sense.”
Smedley turned to Jeeves with a look of puzzlement on his face. “Biblical?” He scratched his head and pondered. “I did go to Bible School when I was small, but then I was expelled for pocketing money from the collection plate. I thought we were supposed to help ourselves, like you do when they pass a plate of cookies, you know? I can’t recall whether or not the teachers were women, but it was the Bishop who sent me home.”
“Oh, come on, Smedley. Men and women, together. Male and female, like the animals. The birds and the bees? Surely your Aunt Cloris or your Uncle Robynne taught you something about it?”
“Oh!” said Smedley, a look of recognition crossing his face. “The birds and the bees. Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Why, certainly. Uncle Robynne brought me a book, with pictures and everything. I still have it. In fact, it’s one of my prized possessions. I’ll show it to you, if you like. Penelope’s seen it.”
“What?”
“She’s touched it even. The fur page is my favorite.”
“Blast it, Smedley. I’m trying to talk to you about sex.”
Smedley laughed heartily. When the moonlight fell on his face, Jeeves saw that his eyes twinkled. “I know that. I figured it out as soon as you said ‘biblical,’ and suddenly, everything made sense. Even so, I couldn’t resist having a bit of fun with you. No wonder I nearly lost Penelope when she found me half-naked with that blasted envelope in my hand and Margaret’s lipstick on my cheek—I can only imagine what she must have thought.”
“She found you half-naked?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Woofington needs a long walk. I’d like to hear it.”
And so Smedley told Jeeves how everything had gone wrong on the night he went to Penelope’s to propose (could that really have been just over 24 hours previous?) not the least of which was landing in fish stew, which led to a brawl outside Penelope’s door, and that Penelope’s friends had hoodwinked him out of his clothes, leaving him dressed only in Margaret’s bathrobe. When he told Margaret he intended to propose, she’d kissed him for good luck, leaving a lipstick mark on his cheek, then when Jonesy was on his way down the hall to dispose of the smelly pants, Smedley’d remembered the little envelope and gone tearing down the hall after it, dressed only in Margaret’s scanty robe. He’d retrieved the envelope and held it aloft to show Margaret just when Penelope came out her door to apologize. [The reader is referred to Episodes 1 - 21 for more detail.] Jeeves had to stop Smedley once or twice so he could catch his breath from laughing and pull his handkerchief out so he could mop his eyes.
“So that’s why I had to bring the Bentley and sneak into that all girls building?”
“Yes, Jeeves. I’m afraid so. Let’s not tell Norbert I’ve got things figured out just yet, shall we? I’d like to give him a good scare. I was thinking perhaps I might get another silver envelope and put something quite innocent in it, a real gift, and give it to my future mother-in-law, or else to Penelope, in front of him. What do you think?”
“I think I should very much like to be present when you do. Say the word, and I’ll do what I can to help.” And with a hearty chuckle, Jeeves and Smedley climbed the stairs to part company for the night.
79: Firelight and Candlelight
Jeeves made his way to the servants’ quarters at the back of Nilpaster Manor, contemplating the conversation he’d just had with Smedley and trying to decide just how much of it he’d share with Jonesy. To his surprise, the door to their room was shut and the light was off. “Lazy buzzard,” he thought. “To bed already? And didn’t even have the consideration to light a fire for me, either, after I’d been out walking the damn dog. I’ll knock him on his arse come morning, whether Mum approves or not.”
He fumbled in the darkness for the light switch before remembering there was none and he’d have to light a candle. Cursing to himself, he stood in a patch of moonlight that entered through a window over the stairwell and fumbled in his pocket for a book of matches, then pulled out the top drawer from an ornately carved dresser with legs that reminded him of his grandfather’s knobby knees parked just below it. To his relief, the drawer was, as he’d hoped, filled with candles and candlesticks. He lit two candles—one for the bedside and the other so he would be able to see to build a small fire in the grate, and after returning the matches to his pocket, he carried the candles into the room. “Jonesy, you lazy arse! Couldn’t you at least have lit a fire for me before you put yourself to bed? Come on, get up! I could use your help!”
When Jonesy didn’t respond, Jeeves turned to face Jonesy’s bed, which was along the wall behind him, and saw it was both empty and undisturbed. He started. “Jonesy? Bloody hell. Now, where have you gotten yourself off to?” Then he remembered. He’d sent Jonesy in search of Maple, so he could suss things out about the Manor. Suppose he’d sent him to his doom? Buck up, he said to himself. You’re letting your imagination run away with you. Mansions don’t have dungeons anymore. Those were just ghost stories that Mum and Cook told you to keep you in line when you were a little tyke. Or were they? He had to admit that Maple scared him more than just a little.
Jeeves looked back and forth between the makings of the fire he’d set in the grate and the door behind him in indecision, trying to make up his mind what to do. Finally, with a great sigh, he blew out one of the candles and left it at the bedside, and taking the other, he set out in the direction of Ms. Maple’s rooms.
80: Fish Oil
After a half hour of chatting with Ms. Maple, Jonesy relaxed and enjoyed himself. When the mantle clock chimed, he realized he’d allowed her to work her charms for nearly an hour and that if he stayed any longer, he’d have to answer to Jeeves. With tears of laughter in his eyes, he put his hand on the young woman’s arm—the beautiful young woman’s arm, he reminded himself with a smile—and said, “It’s been a lovely evening, far more lovely than I would have imagined, but if I’m not to arouse the suspicions of my brother, I’d best be off, and with some severe tale to tell, too. What shall I say, do you think?”
“Let me think for a minute,” said Ms. Maple, whose name was Candace not Sarah (Sarah being her mother’s name). She smiled, her eyes twinkling merrily. “Oh, I’ve got it! I’ll send you up with cod liver oil for the lot of ‘em. It’s something my mother would have done and would still do if she were strong enough to pull it off, God bless her. How I’ve always hated the stuff, but she swears by it and used to order as much of it as cooking grease for the household.”
“That should do,” Jonesy agreed. “It should do quite nicely.”
And so, with tears in his eyes and a glass bottle and spoon in his hand, Jonesy met Jeeves just outside Ms. Maple’s chambers.
“Oh, Jonesy!” exclaimed Jeeves. “What the devil’s happened to you? She’s got you crying!”
“What?” For a moment, Jonesy was about to explain, but then he caught himself. “Oh, nothing really,” he said, pretending shame. “But do you remember the taste of cod liver oil? It hasn’t improved since we were tykes. And now I have to see that Norbert and Smedley—and the girls—take their doses, too. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Well, the dog is taken care of,” said Jeeves, as if that were supposed to make Jonesy feel better.
Jonesy laughed to himself at the absurdity of the comment, and then an evil thought befell him. “Oh, and brother? She said because of your size, you’re to have a double dose.”
Jeeves started. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I won’t do it.”
“You tell her, then. She has a way of knowing things. She’ll be able to tell whose taken their oil and who hasn’t, so will you be taking it willingly, or shall I give you a pounding first?”
Sheepishly, Jeeves reached for the bottle and spoon. “I suppose you’d like my help in convincing the young folks?” he said as he measured the liquid into the spoon.
Jonesy nodded, taking special care not to let his smirk show outwardly. He did love putting one over on his brother.