Wimsey ficlet, and tease
Oct. 14th, 2009 09:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nineveh_ukIn a good mood, having cleared the table last night and spread out vast quantities of notes in order to get down to writing some fic at last. Moral: write the blasted fic before the notes file is 3/4" deep and you're battling through the scene thinking "I know that I've got this somewhere - or was I only thinking about it on the bus?". Not to mention the challenge of choosing between different versions of the same scene jotted down five times.
In the course of this virtuous pursuit (for a given value of virtuous, but really anything that can engage my fleeting work ethic deserves note), I came across this little sequel to this fic, on the subject of the Disastrous Christmas Present, and since it isn't going to turn into anything larger, thought I'd post it.
Return to Sender
The shop, of course, would have wrapped and sent it, but he wanted to put in a note, and he could not deny the slight qualm at the thought of giving Harriet’s address to the girl. Happily, Bunter was a whizz at parcels and could make brown paper, string, and sealing wax around a little glass vase look fit for Egypt’s queen.
He had not, of course, waited in all day for the telephone. It was simply that the weather was appalling, and he felt a slight chill coming on so that it would be foolish to go out.
Perhaps the telephone was a little much to expect. It hadn’t been much, after all. A mere token of regard. It hardly deserved even a note.
For a moment his heart had lifted at the sight of his address in her handwriting, until he took in the size of the box. The smash had been the fault of the post, of course, but that was no consolation.
***
A tease from something else entirely
She was in the garden, shredding a sunflower head between her fingers, when she heard the kitchen door open.
‘My lady.’
‘Bunter.’
He looked old. Grey streaks in the dark hair, hollowness about the eyes. And heartbroken.
‘His lordship has accepted my resignation.’
***
The Yuletide Challenge is here! Time to start thinking whether to make the Serious Requests I always have in the past, or perhaps be a little bit more imaginative. The challenge is being imaginative without being evil. I mean, I know how I felt for a moment when I was faced by Miss Climpson. It's all very well to think something would be entertaining to read, but one must have some sympathy for the writer faced with e.g. Bunter/Saint-George.
In the course of this virtuous pursuit (for a given value of virtuous, but really anything that can engage my fleeting work ethic deserves note), I came across this little sequel to this fic, on the subject of the Disastrous Christmas Present, and since it isn't going to turn into anything larger, thought I'd post it.
Return to Sender
The shop, of course, would have wrapped and sent it, but he wanted to put in a note, and he could not deny the slight qualm at the thought of giving Harriet’s address to the girl. Happily, Bunter was a whizz at parcels and could make brown paper, string, and sealing wax around a little glass vase look fit for Egypt’s queen.
He had not, of course, waited in all day for the telephone. It was simply that the weather was appalling, and he felt a slight chill coming on so that it would be foolish to go out.
Perhaps the telephone was a little much to expect. It hadn’t been much, after all. A mere token of regard. It hardly deserved even a note.
For a moment his heart had lifted at the sight of his address in her handwriting, until he took in the size of the box. The smash had been the fault of the post, of course, but that was no consolation.
***
A tease from something else entirely
She was in the garden, shredding a sunflower head between her fingers, when she heard the kitchen door open.
‘My lady.’
‘Bunter.’
He looked old. Grey streaks in the dark hair, hollowness about the eyes. And heartbroken.
‘His lordship has accepted my resignation.’
***
The Yuletide Challenge is here! Time to start thinking whether to make the Serious Requests I always have in the past, or perhaps be a little bit more imaginative. The challenge is being imaginative without being evil. I mean, I know how I felt for a moment when I was faced by Miss Climpson. It's all very well to think something would be entertaining to read, but one must have some sympathy for the writer faced with e.g. Bunter/Saint-George.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 08:58 am (UTC)Oh, I like this! I don't normally have all that much sympathy for Peter in his pursuit of Harriet - not because I think he's a stalker, because I don't - but because he's already got so much, I don't see why I should be expected to cry because the woman he fancies gives him the cold shoulder. But this makes him much more human and vulnerable, and I felt really sorry for him when the vase came back. And smashed! Poor Peter! And that was before he'd read the actual letter...
A tease from something else entirely
Yikes! What has Bunter been up to? Or Peter? Or Harriet??? It must be something very terrible if Peter's accepted the resignation!
I'm very glad to hear your work ethic has kicked in. Hooray for getting notes in order! Hooray for getting down to writing!
Re. Yuletide. It's possible to suggest several prompts, isn't it? So you could include P/Barbara adultery alongside something less likely to induce a heart attack.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 09:30 am (UTC)There is little more terrible that getting found out...
I am never sure if my work ethic is a tender, delicate plant to be nurtured, cherished, and loved when it does appear, or an appalling shirker that ought to be whipped into shape.
I can't exactly recall how the Yuletide requests work. One can certainly give generous prompts, but they have to coincide with characters. No doubt I shall come up with something in due course.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 09:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 09:45 am (UTC)It does not, however, come from an unbiased source. I refuse to believe that Bunter, for instance, counts as something he doesn't really want. And GN makes it clear that he'd be loth to give up the title, as well.
I think praise works better than punishment with work ethics as with everything else.
Do you want me to delete my first comment now that you've edited your post?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 10:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 11:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 04:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 05:56 pm (UTC)I expect Peter was the only one of his sister's children who would put up with him. When he offered to show Gerald round the whorehouses of Paris, Gerry said thanks, but he already knew how to navigate his way through a brothel. And Mary just thought he was a disgusting old goat. But Peter he managed to catch at a susceptible age, and as a result Peter retained a fondess for him, which none of the rest of his family ever felt, and Uncle Paul in return thought Peter was the only decent one of the lot, and that this was clearly down to his own influence, both educational and genetic.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 10:39 am (UTC)Or Bunter and Harriet???? I initally thought that if that were the case he wouldn't still be calling her "my lady" but on second thoughts...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 11:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 11:45 am (UTC)It is such a comfort to find that other people's minds go to the same place as my own...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 09:32 am (UTC)And, Yuletide squee!! Though I will not be volunteering to write Bunter/Saint George. I am always reassured by the reminder that the obligation is to write characters, not necessarily pairings.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 10:21 am (UTC)I have to confess that I have in the past arranged my selections of characters quite carefully to avoid my feeling morally obliged to write a pairing were it requested. And I think that Bunter/Saint-George would have to depend on blackmail on one side or the other.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 12:12 pm (UTC)Mind you, I think Bunter would nonetheless feel that there are some things up with which he will not put.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 12:37 pm (UTC)(WHo'd have thought I would like Auden even less?)
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Date: 2009-10-15 11:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 11:39 am (UTC)Your teaser, however, has me on the edge of my seat.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 12:36 pm (UTC)I only tease to annoy - and whip up hysteria.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 06:36 pm (UTC)And do you imagine that Harriet's note was sufficient of a slap in the face to start him down the road of thinking that maybe he's going about this the wrong way? Or does that come later, after she tells him she's going away, and he needn't bother to write?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 08:48 pm (UTC)I fear that at least initially Peter may only learn the lesson "OK, work harder to get a relationship going in which she is happy to receive presents."
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-15 08:46 am (UTC)I want to know what it was Bunter said to Peter on the eve of the wedding that resulted in being told not to be a bloody fool.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-15 11:03 am (UTC)I want to know what it was Bunter said to Peter on the eve of the wedding
Unsurprisingly, I too have pondered this and have a note on it somewhere. IIRC my thoughts were that the exchange, translated from Bunter being polite to his Mum, went something like this:
Peter, possibly after Bunter has sorted out Saint-George once again, and possibly also after having had something to drink: God, you'd have made a much better best man if not that this wedding is going to be socially awkward enough already. And while we're on the subject, er, Bunter, well, er, I really am terribly grateful for everything over the last twenty years, I mean, I wouldn’t be here without you and everything and I know that although it’s all going to be a bit different, what with Harriet and the house, I hope that er, you’ll like and everything and that we’ll all get along. I mean, I’m marrying Harriet, not dumping you, and well, you know.
[proffers hand, which for the first time ever, Bunter accepts.]
Bunter, seizing hand in death-grip: My lord, you know I’ll never leave you, I’d sleep every night in a ditch for you, and that they will have to prise my contract of employment out of my cold dead hand.
Peter: Oh! That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. *sniffs*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-15 01:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-15 08:11 pm (UTC)He picked up the box. It rattled. He hoped it was because the vase had broken in the post. He considered opening it, but decided against, and pushed it firmly to the back of a drawer.
The following year, as Christmas approached with no news of Harriet, he remembered the package.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-20 02:49 pm (UTC)Don't know what the etiquette is on these things...
Date: 2009-11-19 12:26 am (UTC)He picked up the box, the same box Bunter had wrapped the vase in. It rattled with a sharp sound of broken glass. He hoped it was because the vase had broken in the post. He considered opening it, but decided against, and pushed it firmly to the back of a drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.
The following year, as Christmas approached with no news of Harriet, he remembered the package. He picked a time when Bunter was safely out of the house on an errand, and retrieved it from the drawer and opened it. With some relief, he noted that at least the vase did not seem to have been smashed against a wall. There was a note inside. He unfolded it gingerly. "Dear Lord Peter..."
So this was how she felt. Humiliated by his attentions. He had known it for some time, but had been afraid to admit it to himself. Now he could not pretend any more. He sat looking at the broken shards of vase, and wondered bleakly whether he had alienated her beyond all hope of retrieval. He winced as he thought back to their first meeting. She, so grave and dignified, despite the shadow of the gallows. He the selfish brute who thought not of her, but only of his own overmastering desires. He could hear her saying wearily, "I'll live with you if you like, but I won't marry you," and he acknowledged for the first time the note of defeat in her voice. In the end, was he no better than Philip Boyes, who had badgered her to death, and then, in her words, "made a fool" of her?
He cursed once again the dirty trick of fate, which had tantalizingly shown him the woman of his dreams, but made it impossible for him to pursue her as he would any other woman. He did not doubt his own attractiveness, to women in general, and to Harriet in particular. Indeed, on occasion, she had appeared to his experienced eye to be susceptible. But stubbornly, perhaps perversely, he refused to consider that approach. If he had learned anything in the two years he had known Harriet, it was that her prickly integrity was central to his desire. He wanted all of her, or nothing, even if nothing seemed increasingly likely to be what he would get.
Where was she now? He reflected that sales must be good, to sustain her prolonged absence from England. Would he call her when she returned? He thought, on balance, that he would. If he were to be honest, he did not think he could stop himself. But things would be different. Enough of humiliation. Enough of discreet little restaurants and obscure roadside inns. He was not ashamed to be seen with her; he would not act as if he were ashamed. But he would give her space. Thinking with distaste of his burst of free speech in Wilvercombe, he vowed that there would be no more displays of emotion.
He refolded the note, putting it back in the drawer with the newspaper cuttings. The broken remains of the vase and the crushed package he swept into the wastepaper basket. Bunter would clean it up later, and think.... God knows what.
Re: Don't know what the etiquette is on these things...
Date: 2009-11-20 12:48 pm (UTC)Indeed, on occasion, she had appeared to his experienced eye to be susceptible. If he had learned anything in the two years he had known Harriet, it was that her prickly integrity was central to his desire. But stubbornly, perhaps perversely, he refused to consider that approach. He wanted all of her, or nothing, even if nothing seemed increasingly likely to be what he would get.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-20 09:33 pm (UTC)Re: Don't know what the etiquette is on these things...
Date: 2009-11-20 05:12 pm (UTC)Re: Don't know what the etiquette is on these things...
Date: 2009-11-20 07:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 07:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-10-14 08:44 pm (UTC)