So, I had a very good question from a reviewer who was inquiring about why Bert didn't have a peg leg or a prosthesis and I was planning to addess the topic later, but figured that now would be as good a time as any. I did some research into the history of the prosthetic leg (as well as asking Grandpa Glenn) and most of the options would NOT have been comfortable. Also, right when he came back, Bert wouldn't have been able to afford one and since the crutch is what he's accostumed to, he's going to try a peg leg and decide that he's good with the crutch. Also, according to my grandfather, they cost less to replace and if he didn't have insurance that paid for his prosthetic legs, he'd be using a crutch himself! He and my grandmother jokingly call them "the golden legs".
(London, 1923)
"Did he ever have a wooden leg?" Davy asked curiously. "My Uncle Thomas knew a bloke who had wooden leg."
Michael nodded. "He did, but he absolutely hated it. The leather straps they used to hold the leg on rubbed his skin raw and he decided that he would rather use a crutch and hasn't gone near one since."
"If it was that painful, I can't say that I would blame him." Matthew nodded.
"He also had some growths on the end of the bone called bone spurs." Michael added. "So every time he would put pressure on the limb, those growths would dig into the skin and he ended up using the leg to help Cook tenderize the meat for dinner! Mary was scandalized of course."
Everyone chuckled, trying to imagine this. "What happened next?" Matthew asked, tilting his head to one side as he listened.
Michael rested his elbows on the table, grinning broadly. "Well, my sister and I were out in the park talking with Mary when we heard a commotion coming from the house. Robby was visiting Bert to bring him his new manuscript so he could get started on the illustrations for it and the next thing we know, we hear a whole lot of commotion coming from the house!"
(London, February 17th, 1917)
The sun was shining and since it was such a lovely day, Mary had accepted the invitation issued to her by Michael and Jane to join them for a walk in the park. Bert had been keeping to himself quite a bit since the incident during the night and she knew that he was embarrassed by allowing her to see him in such a state.
She could also tell that he wasn't doing as well as he wanted it to appear. He rarely went outdoors and when he did, it was for a specific task, like attending his classes or going to check in with Gavin. He never spoke to any of his old sweep friends as far as she could tell and especially at night, even if she had been up reading late, his light would still be on and she had to wonder when, or even if he was sleeping.
Jane and Michael were concerned about him as well, but at least Bert would smile and laugh with them, even if it was only a little. And Robby was coming for a visit today. Bert always seemed to do a bit better after seeing his old friend.
It had taken her a moment to get over the shock of not seeing any arms, but Robby Graves was quite charming and she found herself talking to him as though she had known him for years.
As they strolled, they paused to speak to several people that she had known from her various jobs in London and it was then that they could hear shouting coming from the direction of number 17, Cherry Tree Lane.
"Is that Cook?" Jane asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Mary listened closely and nodded. "It is. We had better go see what on earth is going on."
Striding off briskly with Jane and Michael following close behind, she was rather alarmed when she could hear a male voice yelling. It sounded like Bert! And she had never heard him yell before!
Entering the house in alarm, she heard Robby and Bert both...laughing, fit to be tied! Cautiously, they went into the kitchen to find Bert using the wooden leg he had been trying out the last few days to beat the meat for dinner so it would be more tender!
"What are you doing?" she demanded. She was both appalled and trying not to chuckle at the same time.
"We're tenderizing the meat and since this is the biggest stick we've got 'ere in the 'ouse, we thought we ought to put it to good use." Bert said, grinning widely. Robby was sitting in a chair, doubled over with laughter. Cook was just shaking her head, but her mirth was apparent.
"Bert, you said you were going to try it." Mary admonished, raising an elegantly arched eyebrow.
"Yes, I tried it and I 'ated the bloody thing." he replied cheerfully.
"Such language!" she scolded and his pale face flushed a bit.
"Sorry, Mary. The army didn't do me any favors there I'm afraid."
"The man speaks the truth!" Robby added. "Some of the mouths on those blokes would make a Liverpool seaman blush."
"Well you are not a Liverpool seaman, Herbert Alfred." she said sternly.
Normally, he would have been quite abashed, but this was a different Bert than she was used to. He merely raised an eyebrow of his own and said with a touch of sarcasm, "Are you goin' to nanny me too, Mary?"
She stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. If there was one thing that Mary Poppins wasn't accustomed to, it was being stuck speechless. "I am merely reminding you of the conduct for a proper gentleman." she said with great dignity.
The effect was ruined by the low chuckle she heard from behind her as she swept out of the kitchen with Michael and Jane in tow.
"She's got some spunk that one." Robby said, smirking at Bert as Mary Poppins could be heard walking up the stairs.
"You can say that again." Cook muttered and Bert set the wooden leg down.
"Well that's one job done." he said cheerfully. The wooden leg was simply more hassle than it was worth and had left his stump achy and rubbed raw from the leather straps that had to hold it on. The crutch was what he was used to. He knew how to use it, it didn't let him down and it didn't put any pressure on the bottom of his stump.
"What about the other?" Robby asked meaningfully. Cook turned a curious gaze to Bert and he couldn't help flushing again.
"Bertie Boy here wants to marry Ms. Poppins." Robby informed her with a broad grin.
"Robby! Shut yer gob!" Bert hissed. The last thing he wanted was for Mary to hear about this! One never knew when she would be lurking around. She seemed to have eyes in the back of her head and ears that could hear for miles around.
"Oh do you really, Mr. Alfred?" Cook asked.
He had a glib answer prepared but instead, he just hung his head a little and nodded.
"Give it time, lad, and make sure you don't speak like a Liverpool seaman." she teased, but Bert could hear the hint of warning in her tone. And she was right. Mary wasn't a woman to trifle with and if he really wanted to prove that he loved her, then he had to get himself right in the head again.
But how to do that? His nightmares came and went, not to mention the ghost pains. Could he really ask her to live with that?
Robby's quiet voice broke into his musings. "What're you thinking there, mate?"
"That I'm not good for 'er, Robby." Bert said softly. "She's practically perfect in every way. 'ow can I ask a woman like that to love a man who isn't even whole any more?"
"Bertie Boy, don't take on about yourself like that." Robby protested, but Bert shook his head.
"It's no good, mate. I am what I am. And that's all there is to it."
Sticking his crutch under his arm, Bert stumped out of the house slowly. He needed to do some thinking.
As he rounded the corner, he saw Gavin walking down the street with his brooms, whistling cheerfully. "Oy, Gav!" he called.
The young man stopped and turned, a grin lighting his face. "Bert! How've you been?" he said cheerfully as he made his way over to where Bert was standing.
"Been doing well enough, Gavin! 'ow's the sweep business going?" he asked,
"Going well, going well." Gavin shuffled his feet a little bit before adding hesitantly, "The other sweeps have been asking after you. They'd...they'd all love to see you sometime."
Bert swallowed. These invitations had been issued before but he'd always refused them. What was the point of listening to them singing songs about the good times? Those days were gone and he had to left them go. But they were still his friends. Perhaps sucking it up and just doing it once would be a bit of good for every one.
"I'll think about it." he replied and Gavin's tense stance eased a little. Before he could ask any more questions or even see how Mrs. Brown was faring, Jane and Michael came down the street and the look on Gavin's face was priceless.
"Bert... who's that?" the young man asked, eyes as wide as saucers.
"That, my dear Gav, is Ms, Jane Banks." Bert replied. He felt amused...but also very old at the same time. He remembered the first time he'd been captivated by a young woman and that had been years ago...by Mary Poppins.
"I'm going to meet her some day." Gavin said determinedly, straightening his cap.
"I wish you luck." Bert chuckled as the young sweep looked after her once more before heading off to his next job. Hopefully Gavin would be luckier in love than he was.
Mary was down the street, returning from some errands when she saw Bert speaking with Gavin Brown. She had run into one of the sweeps and learned from them of Jerry's death.
She knew that Bert and Jerry had been like brothers, and he had to be taking the loss hard. Still, here he was, looking after Gavin as she knew Jerry would have. It seemed that Bert's heart was still kind, even though he had acquired some rougher edges from the army.
But could she really blame him? She had no idea of the things he might have seen and she was perfectly aware of this fact. He and Robby joked about things that were hardly funny but perhaps it made it easier to face them with a smile instead of treating them as the grave matters that they were.
She also took in the way that Gavin stared after Jane and reflected that Jane could do a lot worse than an honest, hardworking young man. She would do what she could to further Gavin's chances there.
Having settled this to her satisfaction, she aproached Bert with an unusual feeling of...nervousness. He heard her footsteps and turned to face her, crutch tucked under his arm as usual.
"'ullo, Mary." he said affably. "Just going to take a stroll. 'ave a bit of thinking to do."
From what she could see, he was already doing it but she chose not to comment on it. It appeared that something was on his mine and she found that it almost hurt a little to think that he wasn't confiding in her as he once did. He was keeping things to himself, and keeping her out.
Nodding politely, she offered a civil smile. "I hope your walk is nice." she said primly.
"I 'ope so do." he murmured, obviously distracted. "See you at dinner, Mary."
His erect figured stumped down the street, nodding to all of the people he knew and as she stood there, the thought struck her that perhaps the reason she was here in London was to help her old friend Bert.