nineveh_uk (
nineveh_uk) wrote2015-02-07 02:19 pm
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Wimsey ficlet: The triumph song
With thanks to
sonetka for raising the question as to what might occur "if an 80 mph triumph song happens to go off course for a moment". Otherwise, this is almost entirely plotless.
The triumph song
The nurse departed with a final admonishment not to tire the patient, leaving Peter to stare appalled at the collection of bandages, sling, and plaster of Paris enveloping the figure in the hospital bed.
‘My dear,’ he began, ‘I am most unutterably sorry, and there is nothing I can possibly say to excuse myself. How are you feeling? They told me everything will mend, but you do look – well, as if someone turned a car over on top of you.’
The black eyes blinked. ‘It’s not too bad,’ said Harriet. ‘It’s rather uncomfortable at the moment, and a frightful nuisance, but I’m not permanently maimed or anything.’
‘Thank God for that,’ he said seriously. ‘No thanks to me. I was showing off – ’
‘I realised that.’
‘And to think you defended my driving to Jerry!’
‘There is a certain irony to it,’ agreed Harriet, ‘and to the fact that having taught me to defend myself you immediately proceeded to come close to breaking my neck. You don’t think it was some sort of subconscious male protective instinct at work to prevent my going back to Shrewsbury?’
‘On the whole, I think not. My subconscious may have its unruly side, but it is vain about its driving. But I’m afraid that without you on the spot it may be difficult to prove the identity of our culprit. I must see the Warden this afternoon.’
At which nurse appeared to warn the visitor he had another ten minutes, and he lead the conversation determinedly onto lighter subjects.
It was as Peter was gathering his things to depart that Harriet remarked suddenly,
‘You know, I ought to be a great deal angrier with you.’
‘I do know, and I’m very grateful.’
‘But that’s just it: I almost feel it might wipe out gratitude for good.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Next time I try to berate you for saving my life, you’ll only have to point out that you’ve tried to kill me since.’
‘If that is to be my only punishment I shall count myself the child of good fortune. Oh! I almost forgot.’ He drew a small tissue-wrapped package from his coat pocket and set it by the water jug. ‘You can open it after I’ve gone. I’ll call again tomorrow, if I may. Good bye.’
As Peter made his way towards the gates that gave out onto Woodstock Road, it struck him rather belatedly that perhaps it would not be easy to open the cunningly-wrapped parcel containing the red queen with only one hand. It was discretion as the lesser part of valour, but her extraordinary request for the chessmen being the proximate cause of his folly, expecting the purchase to be met with unalloyed delight had seemed rather impertinent, and he had elected to funk it. As it was, Harriet had been extraordinarily generous for someone with a dislocated shoulder and a bust ankle. One might almost think – at any rate, he seemed to have done his cause no harm. Perhaps there was something to this subconscious business after all.
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The triumph song
The nurse departed with a final admonishment not to tire the patient, leaving Peter to stare appalled at the collection of bandages, sling, and plaster of Paris enveloping the figure in the hospital bed.
‘My dear,’ he began, ‘I am most unutterably sorry, and there is nothing I can possibly say to excuse myself. How are you feeling? They told me everything will mend, but you do look – well, as if someone turned a car over on top of you.’
The black eyes blinked. ‘It’s not too bad,’ said Harriet. ‘It’s rather uncomfortable at the moment, and a frightful nuisance, but I’m not permanently maimed or anything.’
‘Thank God for that,’ he said seriously. ‘No thanks to me. I was showing off – ’
‘I realised that.’
‘And to think you defended my driving to Jerry!’
‘There is a certain irony to it,’ agreed Harriet, ‘and to the fact that having taught me to defend myself you immediately proceeded to come close to breaking my neck. You don’t think it was some sort of subconscious male protective instinct at work to prevent my going back to Shrewsbury?’
‘On the whole, I think not. My subconscious may have its unruly side, but it is vain about its driving. But I’m afraid that without you on the spot it may be difficult to prove the identity of our culprit. I must see the Warden this afternoon.’
At which nurse appeared to warn the visitor he had another ten minutes, and he lead the conversation determinedly onto lighter subjects.
It was as Peter was gathering his things to depart that Harriet remarked suddenly,
‘You know, I ought to be a great deal angrier with you.’
‘I do know, and I’m very grateful.’
‘But that’s just it: I almost feel it might wipe out gratitude for good.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Next time I try to berate you for saving my life, you’ll only have to point out that you’ve tried to kill me since.’
‘If that is to be my only punishment I shall count myself the child of good fortune. Oh! I almost forgot.’ He drew a small tissue-wrapped package from his coat pocket and set it by the water jug. ‘You can open it after I’ve gone. I’ll call again tomorrow, if I may. Good bye.’
As Peter made his way towards the gates that gave out onto Woodstock Road, it struck him rather belatedly that perhaps it would not be easy to open the cunningly-wrapped parcel containing the red queen with only one hand. It was discretion as the lesser part of valour, but her extraordinary request for the chessmen being the proximate cause of his folly, expecting the purchase to be met with unalloyed delight had seemed rather impertinent, and he had elected to funk it. As it was, Harriet had been extraordinarily generous for someone with a dislocated shoulder and a bust ankle. One might almost think – at any rate, he seemed to have done his cause no harm. Perhaps there was something to this subconscious business after all.
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(I like the subtle Wimsey referencing icon.)
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I adore this :) And the ficlet too! It's an awful burden living up to your car.
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Thanks.
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Next time I try to berate you for saving my life, you’ll only have to point out that you’ve tried to kill me since.
If only he had realized earlier that this was a potential resolution of the problem! He could have upended them in a ditch the very first time he asked her out.
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My office, rather less romantically, is the former men's ward.
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It had somehow never occurred to me when I came to work in the building that of course it was where Harriet visits Saint-George, in its previous life.
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Are the chess pieces going to survive in this reality? After all, if they don't appear as as obvious gift from the Dons' Delight, there's no motive for crushing them. That would be a great bonus. I always felt sorry about the wanton destruction of the chess set.
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Jerry is going to use this one for a very long time. Assuming that Peter does not want this news to get back to his brother and sister-in-law, Jerry is about to be in a very powerful bargaining position.
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I think that the chess pieces are currently in an unremarkable cardboard box either in Wimsey's hotel room or Harriet's locked bedroom, and will survive unscathed. Unless Mr Pomfret or his friend bought them, because Wimsey couldn't get there before closing time yesterday...
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I was going to say it is lucky for Harriet's reputation that the dons don't know about Mr Pomfret but then thought that what with the witness and the gossip network, am I supposed to have assumed that they do?
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Possibly the Proctor was too embarrassed by the whole thing to mention it. But if the dons do know, it would add force to Miss Hillyard and Annie's feelings that Harriet is messing Peter around.
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And Harriet still allows him to strangle her?
(Anonymous) 2015-02-09 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)-M
RE: And Harriet still allows him to strangle her?
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I am somewhat concerned about Miss de Vine's fate now. Will Peter be able to decipher everything and run interference before Miss de Vine gets back to her room on the night in question? Or is Annie going to end up in the dock for murder?
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Ah! University website says:
1924
William Morris (later to become Lord Nuffield) presents the Infirmary with £90,000, which ushers in a new era of expansion.
1929
The Observatory site is purchased, which allows the Infirmary to expand. Over the next ten years the Infirmary transforms from a competent county hospital to a world leader in medical research.
***
So additional wards seem plausible, though for the sake of fiction I would put both Saint-George and Harriet in the main building.
RE: And Harriet still allows him to strangle her?
(Anonymous) 2015-02-09 09:52 pm (UTC)(link)-M