In imitation of Wodehouse VIII

 Continued from a previous chapter

8

It was certainly a day for surprise revelations. After Barmy and I gathered our wits, we rushed back to my apartment to ask Jeeves about the whole thing.

Apparently, around 10:30am, Jeeves, immaculately dressed, as George emphasised, came to the station, paid the tenner and left with the two miscreants.

By the time we dashed up the stairs to my flat and rushed through the door, it was just past noon.

‘Jeeves!’ I yelled.

Jeeves hovered into sight on silent feet immediately. You would have thought he was a genie.

‘Sir? Hello Mr Fotheringay-Phipps.’

‘Jeeves, are Tuppy and Elizabeth Conner here? How did you know they were nabbed by George? What happened?’ Questions tumbled out after each other like circus tumblers.

‘No sir, Mr Glossop and Ms Conner have left a short while ago. I received a phone call from Mr Glossop shortly after you left this morning, asking for help to pay the fines. I went to the police station forthwith, returned with the pair, who were in need of a strong cup of tea, and put them onto separate taxis home.’ Jeeves explained with the calmness of a competent nanny.

I slumped on the sofa and let out a sigh of relief.

‘Thank goodness! I hope they weren’t too distressed. I mean Elizabeth Conner; Tuppy is used to spending the night in the slammer. Probably deserved it. But our fair visitor certainly did not, and may have developed a bad impression of Old Blighty.’

I lifted up the old torso to give Jeeves this bit of information that might surprise him: ‘Did you know, Jeeves, Elizabeth Conner is a long-lost cousin of Barmy’s? And that it was his idiot brother George who arrested his own cousin after they were serendipitously reunited?’ 

‘Yes, Ms Conner did inform me. I’m afraid she is particularly upset about the fact that it was her own cousin who arrested her. Blood is thicker than water, she mentioned several times while I served her tea. And she also stressed that it simply slipped her mind that we drove on the left, and that she had told that to Mr George Fotheringay-Phipps, but he did not think it a legitimate excuse. She confided in me that it was particularly upsetting as she had done some research before coming here with the expressed purpose to seek out her cousins. She was very excited to meet family. The circumstances of the meeting were…unfortunate.’

‘Oh dear…’ I looked at Barmy, who looked quite shaken. I told Jeeves to fetch us a couple of glasses of scotch.

‘What should I do Bertie? I’ll never get to even meet my own long lost cousin.’ Barmy’s voice quavered.

This was a pickle. It is obvious that Elizabeth is upset – and who can blame her? I put half the blame on Tuppy. Why did the fathead let her drive in the first place after alcohol, and why didn’t he remind her that we drive on the right side of the street? By which I mean the correct side of the street – on the left. And as the old saying goes, you don’t get a second chance to make a first impression.

Jeeves brought us the drinks and we glumly tossed them back. Not being able to stand Barmy looking like a puppy that has been abused by a heartless urchin, I looked to Jeeves.

‘Jeeves, might you have any ideas on how Barmy here can reconcile with his cousin Elizabeth?’

‘I was just thinking about that very problem while I poured your drinks, sir. Might I suggest that you bring Mr Fotheringay-Phipps to dinner with you tomorrow? He will be able to meet Ms Conner and hopefully assuage her to forgive the, excuse me for saying so Mr Fotheringay-Phipps, rather insensitive act on the part of Mr George Fotheringay-Phipps. After having spoken to Ms Conner, she struck me as an open, kindly person, and, though upset, I’m sure a few genuine words of apology will turn her around.’

‘There you go Barmy!’ I patted the boy on the shoulder, ‘Come in your bestest suit and crispest tie, and maybe some flowers and chocolates. She’ll forgive George and before dessert, you’ll have a beautiful, loving American cousin.’

Barmy seemed to brighten up at the notion.

‘I say, that’s a great idea Jeeves!’ A smile broke out on the simple face, which up till now had looked about as happy as a bastard on Father’s Day.

‘So tomorrow, that’s Wednesday, come to the Ritz at seven sharp.’

‘Right you are Bertie! Thanks awfully, Jeeves.’

With a renewed spring in his step, the elder Fotheringay-Phipps left my abode.

‘Well Jeeves!’ I said as I loosened the collar, grabbed a cushion to my bosom, and breathed out a sigh of relief, ‘That’s one for the books, what?’

‘Indeed sir.’ Jeeves brought me a cup of soothing tea, of which I supped like a child and felt the nutritious nectar doing the Wooster mind some good. Then a dark thought occurred to me.

‘Tell me Jeeves, how miffed was Miss Conner? Will she be in a terribly foul mood tomorrow night?’ After the momentary relief, I was now getting worried about the predicament of hosting an angry American heiress and ex-convict for dinner. Sandwiched between her and Aunt Agatha, I shuddered at the thought of what would seem to be a most terrible evening of fending off feminine fury from both flanks. I would be like Leonidas facing the Persians on both flanks, after being betrayed by the Spartan traitor. That would be George. I will have to teach the blighter a lesson.

‘Miss Conner was somewhat displeased, to be sure. However, her main objection to the entire unfortunate experience was that it was Mister George Fotheringay-Phipps who applied the hand-cuffs, as it were. Miss Conner has a very traditional sense of solidarity, whereby family comes first, hell or high water. She used those very words, as a matter of fact. Therefore her anger would be aimed at Mister George. However, she is also very forgiving. After serving her a good English tea, with scones, fresh cream and that particularly nice strawberry jam from the Borough Market, Miss Conner regained her humour and laughed at the experience. She said it would make a great chapter in her future memoir.’

‘She sounds like a very game girl!’ I perked up after listening to that description. I’ve always found that a girl who can laugh at herself always gets along better with the lads, sets the male mind at ease.

‘And Tuppy? Where did that fool of a man go?’ In the whirlwind of it all, I almost forgot that I need to save Tuppy from being poisoned by Angela!

‘Mister Glossop did not stay for tea. He seemed to be in a hurry and left almost immediately after arriving here. I believe he mentioned some business engagement.’

‘The hunt goes on.’ I need to find the man before the weekend, when I’m going to my Aunt Dahlia’s, and when Angela will unveil her plan to pump Tuppy full of strychnine. If only I can get Tuppy to grovel a bit and I’d be spared the whole episode, and concentrate on enjoying Anatole’s divine cooking!

Just then a knock was heard at the door. Jeeves floated instantly to answer it. As I drained my tea, he came back from the door, and was followed by a girl. She was tall and had the great frame and posture of a mannequin, accentuated by a well-cut green satin dress. Her waves of honey-blonde hair was exactly the same shade as Barmy’s. I instantly knew who she was.

‘Sir, may I introduce Miss Elizabeth Conner?’ Jeeves announced with a bow.