The Junior Ganymede Club may simply be described as a club for ‘gentlemen’s gentlemen’ – valets and butlers. The Club Book, a most secretive manual, is a record of the habits, eccentricities, routines and secrets of the aristocrats who employ valets and butlers. As such, it becomes a sort of encyclopaedia of checking the credentials of the gentleman with whom a valet may seek a long-term employment. The fact that records are maintained should not lead to the automatic assumption that the information contained therein may freely be bandied about. Indeed, it is the opposite. One must exercise complete discretion and use the information only for the purposes of finding a suitable employer.
Curiosity surrounding my employer Mr. Bertram Wooster has grown manifold, reaching almost the proportions of an epidemic after Lady Roberta Wickham decided to move in to Berkeley Mansions prior to an official matrimony. While the scandal consumed and fascinated London’s upper echelons for a considerable period, I found it most intriguing that it seemed to capture the imagination of the working classes to a superior degree. Indeed, I was under daily pressure from the otherwise unexcitable gentlemen of the club to record stirring details of how Mr. Wooster’s life evolved beyond his usual escapades at Brinkley or Totleigh or The Drones or even in the French Riviera. Suffice it to say, that I have not acquiesced to these demands.
However, the recent appearance of one or two pictures by the scandal sheets, both in London and overseas, have complicated the matter significantly beyond the fact of Lady Roberta staying with Mr. Wooster. The pictures are in front of me as I type out this note for the Club Book.
Two of the most senior members of the club have made it clear that I must clarify the standing of the Indian gentleman within Mr. Wooster’s immediate circle. Their stubborn ask has been amplified by others and I fear I must now offer brief details of information to which I am privy. The changing nature of society and what is nowadays termed a liberal outlook has, I fear, caused a degree of uncertainty amongst some of the more traditional members of our profession. I must clearly state my view as is my right – an alarmist position is both misguided and undesirable.
Now, the first picture, contrary to speculation, does not represent a romantic triangle. It is a picture of three people enjoying themselves in a form of public transport. I am sure I need not explain the tram. Sir Shash has possibly cracked a joke and Lady Wickham has laughed most freely as she is often wont to do. Mr. Wooster would have probably laughed louder a few seconds later. A most innocuous photograph of three friends enjoying themselves.
The second picture was taken by Mr. Jones from The Daily Socialite. He risked life and limb as he hung in a most precarious manner on an adjacent balcony to capture this perfectly normal photograph of tea-time in Mr. Wooster’s residence. You may notice that Sir Shash is looking at Mr. Jones. The faint amusement on his face turned into concern seconds later as Mr. Jones almost slipped from the rope that was holding him in position. What Lady Wickham said a few moments later cannot possibly be reproduced here.
In conclusion, I say this; a most loyal friendship between three fine people does not need societal scrutiny. I am sure that our most wonderful colleagues would find other pertinent issues to be curious about.
-Reginald Jeeves
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