The window flew up again.
'Hi!'
A package weighing about a ton hit me on the head and burst like a bomb.
'Did you catch it?' said the face, reappearing. 'Dear me, you missed
it. Never mind. You can get it at the grocer's. Ask for Bailey's
Granulated Breakfast Chips. Tootles takes them for breakfast with a
little milk. Not cream. Milk. Be sure to get Bailey's.'
'Yes, but--'
The face disappeared, and the window was banged down again. I lingered
a while, but nothing else happened, so, taking Tootles by the hand, I
walked slowly away.
And as we turned up the road we met Freddie's Elizabeth.
'Well, baby?' she said, sighting the kid. 'So daddy found you again,
did he? Your little son and I made great friends on the beach this
morning,' she said to me.
This was the limit. Coming on top of that interview with the whiskered
lunatic, it so utterly unnerved me that she had nodded good-bye and was
half-way down the road before I caught up with my breath enough to deny
the charge of being the infant's father.
* * * * *
I hadn't expected Freddie to sing with joy when he saw me looming up
with child complete, but I did think he might have showed a little more
manly fortitude, a little more of the old British bulldog spirit. He
leaped up when we came in, glared at the kid and clutched his head. He
didn't speak for a long time; but, to make up for it, when he began he
did not leave off for a long time.
'Well,' he said, when he had finished the body of his remarks, 'say
something! Heavens, man, why don't you say something?'
'If you'll give me a chance, I will,' I said, and shot the bad news.
'What are you going to do about it?' he asked. And it would be idle to
deny that his manner was peevish.
'What can we do about it?'
'We? What do you mean, we? I'm not going to spend my time taking turns
as a nursemaid to this excrescence. I'm going back to London.'
'Freddie!' I cried. 'Freddie, old man!' My voice shook. 'Would you
desert a pal at a time like this?'
'Yes, I would.'
'Freddie,' I said, 'you've got to stand by me. You must. Do you realize
that this child has to be undressed, and bathed, and dressed again? You
wouldn't leave me to do all that single-handed?'
'Jeeves can help you.'
'No, sir,' said Jeeves, who had just rolled in with lunch; 'I must,
I fear, disassociate myself completely from the matter.' He spoke
respectfully but firmly. 'I have had little or no experience with
children.'
'Now's the time to start,' I urged.
'No, sir,--I am sorry to say that I cannot involve myself in any way.'
'Then you must stand by me, Freddie.'
'I won't.'
'You must. Reflect, old man! We have been pals for years. Your mother
likes me.'
'No, she doesn't.'
'Well, anyway, we were at school together and you owe me a tenner.'
'Oh, well,' he said in a resigned sort of voice.
'Besides, old thing,' I said, 'I did it all for your sake, you know.'
He looked at me in a curious way, and breathed rather hard for some
moments.
'Bertie,' he said, 'one moment. I will stand a good deal, but I will
not stand being expected to be grateful.'
* * * * *
Looking back at it, I can see that what saved me from Colney Hatch in
this crisis was my bright idea in buying up most of the contents of
the local sweet-shop. By serving out sweets to the kid practically
incessantly we managed to get through the rest of that day pretty
satisfactorily. At eight o'clock he fell asleep in a chair; and, having
undressed him by unbuttoning every button in sight and, where there
were no buttons, pulling till something gave, we carried him up to bed.
Freddie stood looking at the pile of clothes on the floor with a sort
of careworn wrinkle between his eyes, and I knew what he was thinking.
To get the kid undressed had been simple--a mere matter of muscle.
But how were we to get him into his clothes again? I stirred the heap
with my foot. There was a long linen arrangement which might have been
anything. Also a strip of pink flannel which was like nothing on earth.
All most unpleasant.
But in the morning I remembered that there were children in the next
bungalow but one, and I went there before breakfast and borrowed their
nurse. Women are wonderful, by Jove they are! This nurse had all the
spare parts assembled and in the right places in about eight minutes,
and there was the kid dressed and looking fit to go to a garden party
at Buckingham Palace. I showered wealth upon her, and she promised to
come in morning and evening. I sat down to breakfast almost cheerful
again. It was the first bit of silver lining that had presented itself
to date.
'And, after all,' I said, 'there's lots to be argued in favour of
having a child about the place, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy
and domestic, what?'
Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he
had come back after changing he lacked sparkle.
It was shortly after breakfast that Jeeves asked if he could have a
word in my ear.
* * * * *
Now, though in the anguish of recent events I had rather tended to
forget what had been the original idea in bringing Freddie down to
this place, I hadn't forgotten it altogether; and I'm bound to say
that, as the days went by, I had found myself a little disappointed
in Jeeves. The scheme had been, if you recall, that he should refresh
himself with sea air and simple food and, having thus got his brain
into prime working order, evolve some means of bringing Freddie and his
Elizabeth together again.
And what had happened? The man had eaten well and he had slept well,
but not a step did he appear to have taken towards bringing about the
happy ending. The only move that had been made in that direction had
been made by me, alone and unaided; and, though I freely admit that it
had turned out a good deal of a bloomer, still the fact remains that I
had shown zeal and enterprise. Consequently I received him with a bit
of hauteur when he blew in. Slightly cold. A trifle frosty.
'Yes, Jeeves?' I said. 'You wished to speak to me?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Say on, Jeeves,' I said.
'Thank you, sir. What I desired to say, sir, was this: I attended a
performance at the local cinema last night.'
I raised the eyebrows. I was surprised at the man. With life in the
home so frightfully tense and the young master up against it to such a
fearful extent, I disapproved of him coming toddling in and prattling
about his amusements.
'I hope you enjoyed yourself,' I said in rather a nasty manner.
'Yes, sir, thank you. The management was presenting a super-super-film
in seven reels, dealing with life in the wilder and more feverish
strata of New York Society, featuring Bertha Blevitch, Orlando Murphy
and Baby Bobbie. I found it most entertaining, sir.'
'That's good,' I said. 'And if you have a nice time this morning on the
sands with your spade and bucket, you will come and tell me all about
it, won't you? I have so little on my mind just now that it's a treat
to hear all about your happy holiday.'
Satirical, if you see what I mean. Sarcastic. Almost bitter, as a
matter of fact, if you come right down to it.
'The title of the film was _Tiny Hands_, sir. And the father and mother
of the character played by Baby Bobbie had unfortunately drifted
apart--'
'Too bad,' I said.
'Although at heart they loved each other still, sir.'
'Did they really? I'm glad you told me that.'
'And so matters went on, sir, till came a day when--'
'Jeeves,' I said, fixing him with a dashed unpleasant eye, 'what the
dickens do you think you're talking about? Do you suppose that, with
this infernal child landed on me and the peace of the home practically
shattered into a million bits, I want to hear--'
'I beg your pardon, sir. I would not have mentioned this cinema
performance were it not for the fact that it gave me an idea, sir.'
'An idea!'
'An idea that will, I fancy, sir, prove of value in straightening out
the matrimonial future of Mr Bullivant. To which end, if you recollect,
sir, you desired me to--'