Free Jeeves and the Wedding Bells by Sebastian Faulks Page A

dammit.’
    ‘Indeed, sir. While it is a most imposing building, the word among the servants is that their rooms have not been touched since the reign of William IV.’
    ‘Stingy old chap, Bassett.’
    ‘Brinkley Court, on the other hand, Mrs Travers’s house, is always a pleasure to visit.’
    ‘Leftovers from Anatole’s wizardry?’
    ‘It is not merely the excellent table, sir. My bedroom is most comfortably equipped with a view of the garden, a strong reading light and an adjacent bathroom. There is invariably a vase of fresh flowers on the chest.’
    ‘A bit of favouritism from Aunt Dahlia, I suspect. Anyway, enough of this gossip, Jeeves. Today sees Plan A swing into action.’
    ‘Might I suggest that you first have a word with the butler, sir? Since you are working for Lord Etringham and not for the household, there should be little constraint on your freedom of movement. However, I have always found it good practiceto consult the butler at the start of the day. Mr Bicknell is well-regarded below stairs, I understand, but somewhat old-fashioned.’
    ‘Go and pay my respects, you mean. Clock in.’
    ‘Exactly, sir.’
    ‘But I’ll have some time off?’
    ‘The mornings and evenings are generally busy, but the afternoon should see few demands on your time.’
    ‘Is that when you do your Spinoza-ing?’
    ‘I have always found that the hours after luncheon are the most propitious for the rational philosophers, sir.’
    ‘Any idea when I might be able to corner Amelia for Plan A?’
    ‘I fear not, sir, though Mrs Tilman, I am told, is the fons et origo of all such domestic information.’
    ‘Right ho, Jeeves. Shall I take the tea tray? I suppose you can toddle down to breakfast without my help. I think I can smell the bacon now.’
    ‘I wonder if I might ask for a copy of The Times before I go down, sir? It is the normal practice to leave two or three on the hall table. A brief study of the form at Ascot would put me in a strong position to withstand Sir Henry’s questions at breakfast.’
    There seemed little point in quibbling, so I went off like a retriever puppy to fetch his lordship’s paper. I managed to deliver it and remove the tray to the servants’ quarters without bumping into anyone, then set about finding the butler.
    In my younger days – as an undergraduate, say, on a visitto some chum’s twenty-first – I had found the butler an aweinspiring figure and spent many an anxious hour calculating how much and at what instant to tip him on the day of departure. The years between, though few enough in number, had taken the edge off such callow fears and it was with a measure of insouciance that I knocked at the door indicated by Mrs Tilman.
    ‘Come in,’ said a voice that seemed to come from fathoms underground.
    I did as I was told and then stopped short. It was the sheer volume of butler that was overwhelming. If one of the heads on Mount Rushmore had taken first a body then a breathing form, it could have picked up a hint or two from this Bicknell. Monumental was the word that came to mind. No one would have wished – or dared – to call him corpulent: there was no suggestion of spare flesh beneath that mighty waistcoat; but it would have been unwise to attempt a circumnavigation without leaving some sort of forwarding address or poste restante .
    ‘Can I help?’
    ‘Yes, I’m Ber … Wilberforce, Mr Wilberforce, I mean. Lord Etringham’s man … valet.’
    I was aware of having made the most frightful hash of my opening lines. I coughed and pulled myself together.
    ‘I thought I’d just look in and say what ho, what?’
    There was a silence. I heard the clock in the servants’ passageway strike the hour and felt the success of the whole adventure rather hang on the moment.
    ‘Good morning,’ said Bicknell. ‘I hope you passed a pleasant night.’
    The manner was grave, but the eye was genial.
    ‘Oh, rather. Very comfortable. Slept like a top, don’t you know.’
    ‘I’m