Fernsby of The Daily Trail crouched stock-still against the rock. His hard work was about to pay off. For two days now, he had trailed Lady Roberta Wickham and Baroness Pauline Stoker on their walks. They had rented a luxury cottage nearby. Sadly, they had been accompanied by Mr. Bertram Wooster and Baron Marmaduke ‘Chuffy’ Chuffnell.
He supposed Mr. Bertram Wooster was all right. He never got angry and might even offer him a share of whatever he was eating. He had once offered him a chicken sandwich on the beach after an unfortunate tripping incident — clearly, a man who saw the needs of a hardworking journalist. Yes, indeed, there could be no doubt — Wooster was sympathetic to the human condition. The other fellow, however, was built like a barbarian and had the looks of a Hollywood film star. Chuffy sounds like such a friendly name. Turns out, he wasn’t very receptive to the respectable and diligent staff of The Daily Trail. He had the temerity to lift Fernsby in the air with one hand, apparently, and only set him down once convinced that he wasn’t a lunatic on the loose. A man who had no respect for the dignified profession of journalism. Thankfully, he wasn’t around today. The perfect picture was going to be his. The one yesterday had almost a surreal quality to it, with the white dresses. This was going to be ‘conservative glamour.’
A voice interrupted his inner monologue. The voice had a pleasant lilt.
‘Mr. Fernsby, that is most interesting camouflage. It isn’t really necessary. You could come out and take a picture. No need to lie hidden in the grass like you did yesterday. Pauline, you don’t mind, do you?’
Fernsby gulped. Lady Roberta Wickham was addressing him directly. How did she pick him out against the foliage and the rock? He looked at the two beautiful aristocrats standing before him with his mouth open. Lady Wickham had a half smile on her face. Baroness Pauline addressed him now.
‘Take your picture, Mr. Fernsby. Chuffy will be back soon. I advise that you depart quickly. Also, may I request that you get a clearance for whatever you are planning to print with Mr. Reginald Jeeves?’
‘Yes, I…thank you, my lady. Thank you, Lady Wickham, as well. I intend to do the pictures full justice. The column will read “Surreal Beauty” or “A waking dream” or something similarly elegant.’
He noticed a motor vehicle in the distance, quickly took his picture, and legged it as fast as he ever could.
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