Jeeves and the Houseguests
It has been my observation that those who have been blessed with talents in one particular field may not possess the simple skills that make one's life easy and pleasurable. That is to say, they have no common sense. Take for example, my current employer, Dr. Gregory House. Not to put too fine a point on it, he is not precisely my employer. The estate of the late Mrs. Wooster holds that office officially, but I attend to Dr. House and so, it is he whom I serve.
Mrs. Wooster was a lively lady while she was alive and took great pleasure in bridge, her dogs and her family. When young Miss Wooster went to America to live with her husband, Mr. House, Mrs. Wooster tried to make her life as comfortable as possible, without interfering in her household affairs, which is as it should be.
When I was but a lad my father and grandfather brought me up to understand that our place was in service to those of a certain social standing. It was also brought to my attention that employment in a family, well-connected and sufficiently…endowed, was the most suitable of positions.
I assisted my father as footman, in the Wooster household and later, as Mrs. Wooster got on in years, I managed her household as my father and grandfather before me had done. It was very kind of her to remember me in her will, and to offer me employment with Dr. House when she passed on.
At first I had misgivings about leaving London. It had been my home for all of my life and while I have had an opportunity for extensive travel, I regarded London as my permanent place of residence. However, one must have an occupation and I decided that I would rather "reign in hell than serve in heaven" and I made the move to New Jersey.
Dr. House is not what we would describe as genial, but he is fair, and I imagine that his responsibilities weigh heavily upon him. We have come to a rapprochement in our relations. He tends to his duties at the hospital and leaves the rest to me.
Lately we've had a full house, you should pardon the pun. In addition to myself, Dr. Wilson and his dog are in residence. There is also a young lady, although her status has not yet been defined…formally. One thing that you should know about a valet: we do not knock before entering a room, and no matter what we see, we must behave as if it were high tea at the Ritz.
If one's master's wish is to have houseguests, then it is but for the valet to accommodate them as best as one's resources allow. Dr. Wilson slept in the den, the dog, Thor, slept by the piano and the young lady…well; it's not for me to say.
For a week we were relatively content. Dr. House seemed to enjoy his company. But I noticed a bit of, for want of a better word, edge to his tone of voice. Dr. House, from living in his family's home in England, understood my place within his household and we lived together harmoniously. Dr. House is a quiet gentleman and he is used to spending a certain amount of time alone to pursue his interests.
We had established a routine, the various doctors would arrive at around six-thirty, I would offer them a beverage and then after an interval of about half an hour, I would serve dinner. Normally, if Dr. House were alone, he might occupy himself by playing his piano or in watching television. With his guests though, he was required to tax his already…limited resources...in being pleasant to his visitors.
One afternoon, after returning with Thor from a quick stroll around the block, I saw Dr. House's motor in the car park. He was home unusually early. When I arrived at the flat I found him deeply engrossed in playing a piece on the piano. I ignored him and I bribed the dog into accompanying me into the kitchen so as to let him have some time to himself. I was rewarded for my efforts with a Chopin concerto.
Dr. Wilson arrived home just as Dr. House was closing the piano lid over the keys. They had some conversation and I offered them a cocktail. Dr. House's small respite allowed him to be amiable as Dr. Wilson discussed his day. If I might offer my opinion, I believe that Dr. Wilson requires the society of others in order to be content, Dr. House…does not.
Dr. Cameron, who had resumed working with Drs. House and Wilson, had decided to spend her evening at her own flat, so the men were on their own. Dr. Cameron is a bit more sensitive to the needs of others than Dr. Wilson might be. We will make allowances for Dr. Wilson's recent emotional upheaval however.
In any profession it is necessary to be flexible. Often it is not possible to arrange things as one might wish, so one must learn to find opportunities in the most unlikely of places.
Dr. House had encountered some unpleasantness during his duties that required me to bring a change of clothes to him at the hospital. I was directed to Dr. House's office and waited patiently for him to return from the shower.
As I waited a very nice looking woman had peeked in. "Oh, excuse me; I was looking for Dr. House."
I stood and extended my hand, "I am Dr. House's valet; my name is Jeeves. Dr. House will return momentarily."
She expressed her amusement in a pleasant laugh, "I'm Dr. Cuddy. House's valet?" Although she was polite she also seemed skeptical.
"Yes madam." She appeared to want to say something else, but Dr. House had returned, handing me the offensive clothing in a plastic bag.
"Jeeves, you're a life-saver. I believe that these need to be burned." He moved towards his desk, brushing past Dr. Cuddy.
"Oh surely not, Sir. I shall see what can be done." They were rather noxious, but I had befriended a very good dry cleaner so I did hold out hope for our navy blue suit.
"Please yourself. Oh, there will be three for dinner tonight." He added, "What's for dessert?"
"I had planned a Spotted Dick, but if you'd prefer something else…" I endeavored to give him satisfaction.
He smiled brightly, "No. That's fine. Cuddy, you're the adventurous type, have you ever had Spotted Dick?"
She coughed and gave him a frosty look. She put a file in front of Dr. House, not allowing him to deter her from her primary purpose, which I suspect was to express displeasure in some way.
"Jeeves, I have an excellent idea. Would it be too much trouble to add one more for dinner?"
"Not at all sir."
"Dr. Cuddy, would you like to join us for dinner this evening?" He smiled at her pleasantly. It did not suit him.
She looked first to me, then to him, then back at me. "What's the gag?"
"I'm serious. Wilson and Cameron will be there. Come on, once you've had Spotted Dick, you'll never go back." He wheedled.
I stood and gave her a slight bow, "I'll just return to the flat to make the appropriate preparations."
"Thank you, Jeeves. Now Cuddy, what are you trying to torture me with?" He returned to his conversation with her.
At seven most of our guests arrived. I served cocktails and canapés. I was surprised at how frequently Dr. House entertained since I had been given to understand that he led a quiet and retiring type of life.
Drs. Wilson and Cameron attempted to play with the dog and Dr. House watched cheerfully. He checked his watch periodically and after a time our final guest arrived. "Dr. Cuddy." I greeted her. I suspect that she had arrived straight from her office.
She stepped in and took the proffered cocktail. "What the hell is this?" I believe that she expressed genuine amazement.
"Welcome." Dr. House said, toasting her with the remains of his Manhattan. I returned to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on dinner.
The doctors conversed in the living room as I insured that all was well with dinner. There was no gong, as was usual in a large house, so it was up to me to announce that dinner was served.
I passed around a tureen of consommé, and Drs. House, Cameron and Wilson all helped themselves. It was clear that they had grown accustomed to informal service. Dr. Cuddy seemed apprehensive. "I believe that you'll find it restorative. It's made of root vegetables and chicken stock." I informed her as she ladled it into the bowl.
She took a small spoonful and nodded, "Very nice."
As I put the tureen on the buffet I noticed that she had stolen a glance at Dr. Wilson. That glance formed the foundation of my plan.
The rest of dinner went smoothly, with conversation flowing more freely with each refill of the wine glasses. It was impossible not to notice Dr. Cuddy's marked preference for Dr. Wilson. Dr. Wilson, still smarting from his recent domestic upheaval seemed insensible of her attentions.
As a gentleman's personal gentleman, one has a slightly different view of the world than one who toils more among the hoi polloi. That is to say that when one is in such close proximity with a small group of people, and one is intimate with them, that it is easy to understand their motivations and their inclinations.
I needed only to speak with Valentina, our cleaning lady to have my suspicions confirmed. Dr. House, along with many of his colleagues, employed the services of a Russian émigré named Valentina for her weekly services. Since this arrangement had served Dr. House well, and a valet does not bother himself with the drudgery of heavy cleaning, it seemed best to continue to engage her for this purpose.
Valentina is and exceptionally pretty young woman and enjoyed the Kusmi Petrushka tea that I had ordered for our pantry. She gently stirred the preserves in to sweeten the tea and took a scone that I had prepared just for the occasion. I noted with satisfaction the sparkling clean kitchen that we sat in.
"Mr. Jeeves, you certainly know good tea." She said shyly, taking a small sip.
"Thank you. I'm glad that you are enjoying it." I sipped my own unsweetened cup. "I understand that on Thursdays that you clean for Dr. Cuddy."
"Yes, she has a large flat not too far from here." She confirmed, "She likes me to dust under the bed. I think she has allergies." She spread a piece of scone with clotted cream. "Where do you find these things?" She had a pretty smile.
"There is a gentleman who works at the Whole Foods market who will order items for us. Dr. House enjoys them. If there is anything that you would like, I'll be happy to see if he can obtain it for you." I offered. I poured more tea into her glass.
"That is very interesting. There are quite a few Russian stores, I get most of what I need, but I like some of your British food." Again she smiled.
"I think I understand you. Perhaps you would be free to attend the cinema this weekend?" Why not kill two birds with one stone?
"I would like that." She sipped her tea again.
"So, tell me more about Dr. Cuddy, how big is her flat exactly?" I prodded.
"She has three bedrooms. One is for her computer, but one has a big bed. I don't think she uses that very much. Wasteful." She pronounced. "But it is good to have waste. Yes?"
"Yes. Surplus is always to be desired. So she could easily accommodate a guest for an indefinite period of time?" I offered her another scone, which she declined.
"I suppose. Ah. Mr. Jeeves, you are what we call a yenta." She winked at me. "So who is the lucky gentleman?"
"I was thinking of Dr. Wilson, he's in the process of disentangling himself at the moment." I tried to put it delicately.
"Oh. He's on the…rebound." Valentina is more pragmatic about these matters than I.
"So to speak." I admitted. "Nevertheless, I believe that Dr. Cuddy already has an inclination…"
"Oh, I think I know who you mean. The handsome one? He's fair-haired." She smiled. "I used to clean for him before he got married. He's charming." She seemed enigmatic.
"One never knows what might happen when two people are thrown together." I trusted that she would be able to pick up the thread of my thought.
"Ah. That is true." She agreed.
The only thing left to do was to bring the parties together in such a way as to leave nothing to chance. I devoted some thought to it.
I followed the blue line to the Witherspoon Wing of the hospital and began searching for Dr. Cuddy's office. It seemed that if she were truly interested in Dr. Wilson, that starting there would insure that I could get them both together for my announcement.
As I passed a glass door marked Clinic, I saw her standing at the admission desk reviewing a chart. I pushed through and approached her. She looked up at me and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Jeeves. What brings you here? House forget his lunch money?" She chuckled at her little joke.
"No M'am. I am, in fact, trying to find Dr. Wilson; would you be able to provide me with directions to his office?" I referred to my small scrap of paper, as though it had the direction on it. In fact, it was my grocery list.
"I'll take you there myself. The hospital is a bit tricky, if you're unfamiliar. The good news is that when we get there, there's cheese." She smiled conspiratorially at me.
"M'am?" I did not understand.
"A maze. You know, a mouse; cheese." She explained.
"Ah. Yes, very amusing." I managed a small smile.
Dr. Wilson was emerging from his office as we approached. This was perfect. "Wilson!" Dr. Cuddy called to him. "Hold up! Mr. Jeeves needs you."
He turned around. He seemed happy to see Dr. Cuddy. "Yes? Is everything okay?"
"It concerns Thor, Sir. Perhaps we might want some privacy?" I indicated his office, hoping that he didn't take me up on it.
"Is he okay?" He seemed concerned.
"Certainly Sir. It's more about his welcome in the building." I said.
"Are they giving us trouble again?" It seems that there had been an issue before, so much the better. "I know that we've been using the freight elevator," he sighed, "It can't be helped. How much time do we have?"
"Three days." I informed him. It seemed a nice, round number.
"Not even until the weekend? Damn. I hate to board him." He said. He collected his thoughts.
Dr. Cuddy cleared her throat. "If you like, you can bring him to stay with me." She offered.
"That's really nice Lisa, but he's so moody and all of this moving around has left him unusually unhappy. I hate to be away from him. I guess I can try to find a motel or something…"
"Don't be silly. Come stay with me. I've got plenty of room and my building allows big dogs. I won't take no for an answer. Let's grab some lunch and we can discuss it." She steered him down the hall.
"Very good, Sir." I bowed and turned to make my escape.
Later that evening, as I brought the cocktails in, Dr. House smiled. "Have you heard? Wilson is shacking up with Cuddy. It could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Or his fourth divorce. Oh well, faint heart n'er won fair lady, or something like that." He sipped. "Imagine him getting it all organized like that. And how convenient for me."
He regarded me suspiciously. It wounded my feelings I fear. "Yes, Sir. Very convenient. What time shall I serve dinner?"
"Any time you like. What's for dessert?" He asked.
"It's such a hot summer day; I thought a raspberry fool might be in order." I responded, moving into the kitchen to complete the dinner preparations.
"Just so long you don't think I'm a fool," he muttered under his breath.