nineveh_uk (nineveh_uk) wrote,

Wimsey ficlet

In response to this thread on my most recent Wimseyfic,bronze_ribbons has also reminded me that “the surprising amount of tissue-paper in Harriet's suitcase in the latter days of BUSM is canon...” A drabble, really not what I am supposed to be doing at the moment, follows. Given recent history, I should note that it is perfectly safe for work and will frighten only timid, blind pit-ponies and little hunted hares.

Bunter regarded the half-packed suitcase thoughtfully. Her new ladyship had many estimable qualities, but packing her clothes in the most suitable manner was evidently not among them. He only marvelled at how the taffeta frock in particular had survived the journey to Hertfordshire. No doubt one of her friends had helped; a testimonial in itself. Certainly the silk shirt looking back at him forlornly from the suitcase would not survive the return without aid. He placed the tissue paper he was carrying on the bed, swiftly rescued the unfortunates from their imprisonment, and set to work. It was also rather obvious, one could not help observing, where Miss Vane's money had run out. He had rather admired her choice of dressing gowns, and the nightgowns were definitely deserving of approval even if he had not had his lordship’s word on it, the kitchen ceiling being rather thin, but the stockings, though good, were not of the best nor quite sufficient in numbers, and in some quarters the situation was even worse. Crumpled camiknickers bearing the mark of a notable fashion house gleamed amidst companions of rather less recent vintage, with some sad cotton drawers and tired brassieres that he could only assume to be old friends in times of trial. A girdle, the wrong size, the wrong shape, the wrong construction and unsurprisingly looking as if it had never been worn, lurked malevolently in a tangle of suspender belts. He sighed. No doubt the attentions of an efficient personal maid, and indeed his lordship, would address the defects in good time, although perhaps a slight delay in the laundry might hasten the process. The taffeta frock went obediently to its rest and he locked the case. In the meantime there was the more pressing question of retrieving his lordship’s bathing suit in anticipation of a month on the Riviera after all.
Tags: wimseyfic
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