Jeeves?
Sir?
Present my compliments to Mr Pilus and inform him that our guest has arrived. She should at least divert him from working through the Cruxton Abbey wine cellar.
Indeed, sir. He was on his fourth bottle, when I last counted.
Oh, and Jeeves?
Sir?
Get Merryweather to oil the rack and the front door, in that order, could you?
Very good, Sir.
As Jeeves enters the darkened wine cellar he sees a man, chest slumped on the heavy table, eyes staring into a glass of deep red, almost purple wine. Beside him three bottles stand empty. He holds a fourth above the glass, squeezing it between his rough hands as though trying to extract just one more drop.
Mr Pilus? Mr Pilus? Sir? SIR! My Master has requested your company upstairs. I have brought you coffee sir, though it appears as though you may need more than a cup.
The man looks up. What is it Jeeves? Can't you see I am in mourning? Leave me alone to suffer my loss. But before you go Wragg seems to have run out of Grange. Can't find a single one of the '55 vintage left a'tall. Even a '90 would do. Find one for me Jeeves old chap. Just one more.....just one.
I'm sorry for your loss Mr Pilus but I had not heard that any from your circle had departed this earth.
No Jeeves, not "departed". Just gone away. My favourite tight little. Not to be seen again for weeks. I'm lost Jeeves. Lost. The way it dances under my whip, the sound as the leather touches it......
Jeeves waits. The man seems lost in his memories.
Mr Pilus sir? When you refer to a "tight little" am I to understand that you mean the part of one's back on which one rests in sitting? A posterior? Ahh, what do the French say? A derrière? And do I also assume that this derrière belongs to a young lady?
Of course Jeeves. But not just any one. There is one so special. The best in all Cruxdom. And its owner.....ahhhhhh......but it has gone for a while and I must savour it only in my memory.
Mr Pilus sir? Would you, by any chance, be referring to the derrière that so closely follows a young woman named Barbara Moore as she walks?
The man looks up. Ahhh. Barb.....her tight little.....undulating as she walks.....whip singing.....crack!......that little jostle of her hips.....and he seems lost in his memories again.
Then, Mr Pilus, perhaps I have some good news for you. Now Wragg has a guest. A young woman with long brunette hair and that upon which she would sit, if she were given the opportunity, is, even to Jeeves, most delightful.
The man looks up. His eyes shining. He raises that last glass of Wragg's expensive wine to his lips.....then lowers the glass to the table and slides it away. He sees his hand tremble. Sober up Pilus. Sober up.
Coffee Jeeves. Line them up. Double espresso. At least three. Quickly man. That tight little must never be kept waiting....otherwise ....
grumble....groan....
He gulps down the first coffee and looks for the second.
He doesn't notice Jeeves take the wine glass and drain the contents with a most satisfied look. It isn't often old Jeeves gets to sample the delights of Wragg's cellar.
Now Jeeves. Take my elbow. Those stairs are steep and I might still need a little ass...istance.
Right you are Mr Pilus.
........and this sounds like a beauty