What Ho!
You slip out the window and down the drainpipe with a practised ease. Once on the turf, you spot the promised get away car with Cuddy's chauffeur Tony up front running the engine. He hops out and holds the passenger door open for you.
You gratefully slide in back. Timpson hands you a hip flask of the necessary restorative. A few happy sips later, you lean up front towards Tony.
"Um, I say, could you drop us off at the station?"
Tony glances over his shoulder. "Well, if it's ok with you, boss, I wouldn't mind driving you back to London. Timpson here says he can line me up with a job in collections."
"Oh. But what about Miss MacGillicuddy?"
"Oh, she'll make out. Timpson says that she and Mr. Fenwick are getting hitched, and I figure I'd be on the streets soon. Happens when folks get married, got to shake up the servants, you know.
"Besides," he says confidentially, "I really didn't like all those bad areas of town she wuz hanging around, visiting soup kitchens and all. I didn't get into chauffeuring just so's to go back to the old neighborhood."
"Oh," you say, realizing that Tony, like many servants, is a bit of a snob. "And this car?"
"Oh, we's just borrowing. I'll get it back to the dame, doncha worry." He gives a snaggle toothed grin that he no doubt thinks is reassuring.
"Quite. Well Timpson," you say turning with grateful eyes towards your man, "You certainly came through today. But how did you know that I would need this admirable escape route?"
Timpson looks a bit embarassed. "Ah, that would be which as I put the begonias in your room, your Lordship."
You provide the obligatory goggle-eyed visage. Timpson continues.
"Tony here done told me that Miss MacG has went and filched them blossoms and hid them in this automobile, like. So I decided to give them a bit more sunlight."
"Up in my room???"
"Well, I wouldn't be entirely truthful if I didn't say I wasn't entirely happy about the prospect of Miss MacG becoming Mrs. P, which as the lady in question more than once said something to the effect of giving old Timpson the heave ho boot once she was established in the household."
You realize that she had said such very words, probably within earshot of Timpson's usual ear against the door. "Ah, yes, she might have said something to that effect. But I would have put her in her place, you know. Can't let go a loyal fellow like you."
Timpson looks unconvinced. "Er, thank you, sir. But if you'll forgive me, I felt a bit of insurance was in order." His lined face peers anxiously at you.
"You ain't too vexed at me, is you sir?"
You think of lifelong conjugal bondage to Cuddy, and at once a shudder passes through your frame.
"No, not at all. Timpson, you're a wonder."
"Thank you, sir"
"Here, have a tenner."
Tears well in Timpson's eyes as he contemplates that particular dappled mare he was thinking of investing in.
"God bless you, sir. God bless us, everyone."
You gratefully slide in back. Timpson hands you a hip flask of the necessary restorative. A few happy sips later, you lean up front towards Tony.
"Um, I say, could you drop us off at the station?"
Tony glances over his shoulder. "Well, if it's ok with you, boss, I wouldn't mind driving you back to London. Timpson here says he can line me up with a job in collections."
"Oh. But what about Miss MacGillicuddy?"
"Oh, she'll make out. Timpson says that she and Mr. Fenwick are getting hitched, and I figure I'd be on the streets soon. Happens when folks get married, got to shake up the servants, you know.
"Besides," he says confidentially, "I really didn't like all those bad areas of town she wuz hanging around, visiting soup kitchens and all. I didn't get into chauffeuring just so's to go back to the old neighborhood."
"Oh," you say, realizing that Tony, like many servants, is a bit of a snob. "And this car?"
"Oh, we's just borrowing. I'll get it back to the dame, doncha worry." He gives a snaggle toothed grin that he no doubt thinks is reassuring.
"Quite. Well Timpson," you say turning with grateful eyes towards your man, "You certainly came through today. But how did you know that I would need this admirable escape route?"
Timpson looks a bit embarassed. "Ah, that would be which as I put the begonias in your room, your Lordship."
You provide the obligatory goggle-eyed visage. Timpson continues.
"Tony here done told me that Miss MacG has went and filched them blossoms and hid them in this automobile, like. So I decided to give them a bit more sunlight."
"Up in my room???"
"Well, I wouldn't be entirely truthful if I didn't say I wasn't entirely happy about the prospect of Miss MacG becoming Mrs. P, which as the lady in question more than once said something to the effect of giving old Timpson the heave ho boot once she was established in the household."
You realize that she had said such very words, probably within earshot of Timpson's usual ear against the door. "Ah, yes, she might have said something to that effect. But I would have put her in her place, you know. Can't let go a loyal fellow like you."
Timpson looks unconvinced. "Er, thank you, sir. But if you'll forgive me, I felt a bit of insurance was in order." His lined face peers anxiously at you.
"You ain't too vexed at me, is you sir?"
You think of lifelong conjugal bondage to Cuddy, and at once a shudder passes through your frame.
"No, not at all. Timpson, you're a wonder."
"Thank you, sir"
"Here, have a tenner."
Tears well in Timpson's eyes as he contemplates that particular dappled mare he was thinking of investing in.
"God bless you, sir. God bless us, everyone."
