Fresh Fiction for Friday - Further

She emerged from her room moaning and holding her head. Entering the suite proper she shuffled towards the expansive couch and comfy chairs, looking for sympathy. “Why does my head hurt so bad?”

The gentleman sighed, raising his eyes just enough from the crossword puzzle in the newspaper to observe her. “You are hung-over from drinking too much,” he stated. “This is why your head hurts. Are you familiar with the concepts of cause and effect?” Looking pitiful, she shook her head no, stopping only to wince. With a sigh of exasperation, he put down his pen and newspaper. “To recap, because you drink so much every night, the effect is that you wake up the next morning hung-over, forgetting that we had a conversation regarding cause and effect the day before, as well as the day before that, as well as nearly every morning since I’ve been in your employ.”

“Not every morning?” she checked, looking for a silver lining.

“Some days you do not wake until the afternoon,” he noted coolly.

She pouted. “But Matt…”

This statement was very quickly terminated by a hard look and a sharp retort from the gentleman on the couch. “Ms. Van Howell. To you my name is Mr. Psmith, the P being silent as in ptarmigan and Ptolemy. If you must insist on a certain familiarity, you may refer to me as Psmith. You have yet to earn the right to refer to me by my first name. I believe your continued hang-overs are evidence of this. Have I been clear?” She nodded. She shuddered under the coldness of his statements towards her. There was something in his British accent and deep voice that made his words feel that much sharper. “I am glad. The light breakfast you prefer has been prepared. The coffee is fresh.”

“Thank you.” A thought proceeded. “No special secret hang-over cure?”

Psmith was once again working through the crossword puzzle. “That is correct. Resolving this problem so quickly for you is retarding your progress in this regard. For you to learn, you will have to suffer so that you will understand the effects of what you are doing.”

“But I have suffered, lots of times before I hired you to help me with my issues. Can’t that count? You know I’m trying,” she pleaded. He looked up from his puzzle. She lacked the normal ammunition of her feminine wiles what with her bed scrambled hair and the smeared remains of yesterday’s makeup twisting her features. It was the hint of light in her eyes that caught his attention. At this point in the day her eyes were normally dull and lifeless but today they held some life and she used that life to plead with him. “Please Mr. Psmith?”

He returned his gaze to the puzzle. “How very wise of you to utilize my correct nomenclature. I will… consider your request.”

She smiled, brightening her expression despite her current physical state. She knew him well enough to know that this response meant yes unless she did something to change his mind. “Thank you Mr. Psmith.”

He continued with his puzzle, his pen rapidly moving over the paper as the squares were filled in. “Certainly. Go take in some breakfast it gets cold.”

She resumed her walk, heading for the kitchen. “Also, thank you for getting me home alone last night, Mr. Psmith.”

“You are quite welcome. I am glad to see you make the progress you desire in this regard.” As she entered the kitchen, he placed his pen and completed puzzle on the table before him. He rose to make the cure she had requested.