Chapter 16

"It is my letter of resignation, sir."

There was a particular thingness - as he himself might have phrased it - to my master's expression when I uttered those fateful words. A slight widening of the eyes, the smallest parting of the lips in shock, and something else, something indefinable - a sort of sudden and intense depth of feeling in his features telling of unavoidable sorrow - that took me right in the middle of the breastbone. I nearly changed my mind then and there, but I hesitated a moment too long. Before I could pass it off as a grievous mistake, Mr. Wooster looked away and, swallowing hard, said, "I understand, Jeeves. Perhaps its for the best, after all."

I straightened and gave a small nod. "Very good, Sir." Yes, he was right. It was for the best. It was my presence that was oppressing him; free of the psychological tyrant who manipulated him, he could finally feel at ease and start to recover from his ordeal. Without me, he might think well of himself again, and, at the very least, his family and friends would be forced to look to him for his own company and not the artful servant he brought with him.

No, I could not go back on all my good intentions simply because I suddenly realized I never wanted to be anywhere else for the rest of my life.

-x-

I remained for the obligatory fortnight, consulting with various agencies in order to secure the most suitable replacement and then organizing my master's household so as to be able to hand it over with the barest minimum of fuss.

For the remainder of my time, I did my utmost to make him as happy as I could. I prepared his favourite dishes, placing each in front of him with as much of a smile and a stiff upper lip as I could manage. Come the evenings, I would leave out the paper, folded to the listed attractions at the cinema or turn on the wireless when I knew his programmes were about to commence so that he would not forget and thereby lose the chance to enjoy himself for a little while. One poignant evening, he even consented for me to read to him, and as the late summer sun slowly set outside our little flat, together we shared the most recent adventures of Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

It was a time I will never forget.

He, for his part, simply watched me regretfully when he thought I was not looking. One time, he reached out a hand, as if he wanted to take me by the arm and shake some sense into me or beg me to stay, but whipped it away when he caught my gaze and quickly strode off to another room without a word.

In that moment, I loved him. There was no thought as to whether it was as a friend or a brother or a master worthy of my devotion, I only knew he was inexpressibly dear to me. Without him, my future would indeed be bleak.

-x-

Strange how one could want something so painful never to end, however, all too soon, my notice was up. The scene that morning as I was about to depart for the final time was exceedingly awkward.

"I say, you… you have all your things, don't you?" Mr. Wooster worried. "I could always send something on if you like. So you wouldn't have to lug the heavier whatnots about."

"Thank you, sir, but all of the furnishings belonged to you and should be left for my replacement."

"Not the bookshelf, Jeeves! That was for you. I meant it as a gift."

I would have preferred to leave it - a valet cannot be sure of what his next situation will afford in terms of accommodations - however, I could sense Mr. Wooster's desire for me to take the item, and so I acquiesced and told him that, in that case, I would avail myself of his kind offer to have it sent on later.

We remained silent for some moments, unable to think of anything further to say. Finally, I took hold of my valise, gathered up my coat and umbrella, placed my hat upon my head and proceeded to the door. Once there, I extended my hand.

"If you will forgive the liberty, sir."

Mr. Wooster blinked, then eagerly grasped my hand in his own.

"Goodbye, sir."

"Good… Goodbye, old chap." He shook my hand and if our smiles were a touch wobbly and our eyes a little moist, neither of us made mention of it. "Here, let me get the door for you, Jeeves."

"Thank you, sir."

He opened the door and then a sad smile for some reason graced his face upon seeing the empty corridor. "My word," he said, "I half expected to find a line from here to Piccadilly Circus of potential employers clamouring at the door for your services, Jeeves. It's a marvel Oofy Prosser's claw marks alone haven't shredded my front door to splintery bobs."

I did my best not to grimace. "I suspect, sir, that you overestimate my worth."

"What utter tosh, Jeeves! All of my friends have tried to spirit you away at one time or another. I think even Rocky Todd tried it once, despite his avowed pash for the simple and uncomplicated life."

"Perhaps, sir, but after obtaining something one often finds that it is not all one would wish. Previous employers enjoyed my services at first, but usually tended to find my efficiency eventually made them uncomfortable." Taking advantage of his confusion at this statement, I took my leave.

I was half way to the lift when Mr. Wooster stepped out from his doorway and called to me. "Jeeves?"

"Sir?"

"You mean that marvellous fish-fed brain of yours, don't you? Your intelligence is what scared the blighters off?"

"I cannot answer that, sir."

"Is that why you are leaving now - because you think…"

"No, sir. That is not at all the reason this time. You are unique, Mr. Wooster. I have never felt you faulted me for my pretensions regarding my general acumen. I firmly believe your generosity of spirit precludes that sort of pettiness."

Mr. Wooster hung his head. "Not so generous, Jeeves," he confessed with a shaky voice. "After Cannes… well, let's just say I gave you every reason for thinking you'd just been slipped the old dining implement in your dorsal side."

Oh, my dear, dear, sir.

I turned and walked back towards the entrance to the flat. Leave eventually I might, but not like this. I could not go while he still carried so much unnecessary blame.

"Please, sir, let me fetch you some tea. I believe the two of us must talk."

-x-

In the end, after setting my possessions once more by the door, I fixed Mr. Wooster a second breakfast. I piled his plate high with eggs, bacon, sausages, kippers and a slice of tomato, along with a second plate of thickly buttered toast and marmalade and a pot of hot, sweet tea. To my immense surprise and gratification, he ate nearly all of it, despite watching me warily the whole time, still quite upset and confused.

"Jeeves," he asked softly, "What does all of this mean? Are you trying to tell me you're willing to give the young master a second chance?"

I halted abruptly on my way to the kitchen for more cream.

"I know I don't have much to offer, Jeeves," he went on. "An amusing tale at a dinner party here or there, a fruity bit of music in the evenings… not the sort of thing that would impress a man like you, who could run for Prime Minister as far as I'm concerned, but I could - "

"Stop!" I cried, stunning us both. "Please, sir. Please stop."

He drew himself up, doing his best to pull himself together. "Of course, Jeeves," he said hoarsely. "I won't make an ass out myself any longer. You should be serving someone far more capable - "

"Sir, I beg you!"

He fell silent. A sudden helplessness seemed to afflict us both. I turned to him and gently took the fork from his hand, then proceeded to lead him to the settee, where I had him sit.

"May I, sir?" I asked, gesturing to the armchair across from him. He nodded and I sat.

"Sir," I began, "My resigning my position without proper explanation has been yet another foolish mistake on my part. I resigned not because I felt you unworthy of my services, but because," and here I took a deep breath, "Because I felt I was no longer worthy to serve you."

"Oh, Jeeves, please," he said, waving off my words and sounding bitterly heartbroken. "Can we not speak the truth even now?"

I shifted forwards and, in an action stunning in its impropriety, I took my master's face in my hands. "Sir, you are the best man I know! That I have ever known!"

"Jeeves…"

"Sir," my voice cracked. "You must listen to me. Simply because I have shown the sheerest, uttermost galling stupidity in treating you so worthlessly, does not mean that you deserve to be treated so. Do you understand, sir? You are not worthless. You are more deserving than anyone I have ever known."

He shook his head. "No…"

"Yes, sir," I reiterated. "You cannot see it because you have let yourself become too impressed with me. But what you think of as my intelligence is nothing but a showy bit of cleverness and the ability to manipulate people. In many ways, you are far wiser than I."

"Why are you telling me such nonsense!" he shouted.

"It is not nonsense, sir. It is the wisest man who can discern the true things of value in this world. Justice, for a start, such as you displayed when you defended me to Mr. Seppings on the day you fell ill. Compassion, such as you showed when you defended me to your aunt and Miss Hayter-Fortescue. Loyalty, such as the way you refrained from telling the party at dinner who had truly caused the disaster, even when Mrs. Travers was chiding you.

"And forgiveness, which you have always given me, even when I least deserved it. You do not possess these things simply because you have a good heart, Mr. Wooster - they are qualities which involve perception and strength as much as kindness."

"I couldn't have told without making myself look the chump," he protested in a whisper.

"I sincerely doubt that was the real reason, sir. I believe it is far more likely that, deep in your heart, you balked at shaming me even though I had given you every reason to do so, nor do I think you wished to make your friends and relations look foolish by telling them how they had been taken in by me."

In his weakened state, this much emotional turmoil was far too much for Mr. Wooster. While I felt what a terrible fool I had been for letting all of this go on for so very long, he, exhausted beyond measure, abruptly leaned forward to bury his head in the crook of my shoulder and began to weep.