Jeeves and the Wedding Bells by Sebastian Faulks

Author:Sebastian Faulks [Faulks, Sebastian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 9781448184972
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2013-11-07T00:00:00+00:00

THE FIRST PLAYER arrived soon after the church clock had struck noon. It was Esmond Haddock, and the time that had passed since I last saw him had done nothing to lessen his resemblance to a classical deity whose noble brow ought to be worth twenty runs to us, I reckoned, before he even faced a ball.

Bicknell was stationed in the porch when Esmond’s roadster hove alongside. The trusty butler made for the steps, but I beat him to it and managed to alert Esmond to my new status as I opened his car door.

‘Ah well, the first time we met, Bertie, you were pretending to be Gussie Fink-Nottle,’ he said. ‘So I suppose this is a slight improvement.’

Esmond was escorted by Bicknell into the long room, where he stood before the fireplace in a blazer of startling colours, sipping a gin cup with a fistful of herbiage in it. At ease, with no aunt or dowager in sight, he held forth to Sir Henry and Lord Etringham with tales from the Hampshire hunt. Things could hardly have got off to a juicier start, I felt. Sir Henry’s face was all ruddy delight as he eyed up the Apollo of Andover.

Before I could congratulate myself further, I was distracted by what sounded like a pack of foxhounds in the hall.

Was it possible that all this racket could issue from the lungs of a single dog? Yes, it was – if that dog was the terrier Bartholomew. And if so, then Stephanie Pinker, née Byng, could not be far behind. By the time I got into the hall, the creature was halfway up the main staircase with Stiffy about three steps behind and losing ground fast. ‘Come here, you naughty boy!’ she was shrieking. ‘Stinker’ Pinker was at the foot of the stairs in clerical garb and linen jacket, gesturing weakly.

‘What ho, Stinker,’ I said, sotto voce. ‘Don’t forget you don’t know who I really am. I’m pretending to be Jeeves’s valet. And he’s Lord Etringham. It’s a long story. And I thought I quite clearly said No Dog.’

‘Stiffy said she wouldn’t miss the cricket for the world. And she said everyone loves Bartholomew. I tried to reason with her, but you know what she’s like.’

At this point, Stiffy returned to ground level, with the yapping Bartholomew cradled to her bosom. ‘Hello, Bertie,’ she said, planting a smacker on my cheek.

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘But I’ve always called you that. It’s your name, you chump.’

‘Didn’t Stinker tell you?’

‘Tell me what?’

I told her.

‘What an absolute riot,’ said Stiffy. ‘Kindly fetch me a drink at once, Wilberforce.’

The Rev. Pinker rolled his eyes and I rolled mine back as I trotted off to oblige. I don’t know what Bicknell put in his gin slings, but with the company on its second refill the volume of conversation had gone from mf to f, as Hymns A and M has it. It was at this moment that Lady Hackwood and Dame Judith Puxley decided to come in from the hall and join the party.

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