by
Sabine
(sabine.clement@vrt.be)
Niles walked into the living room, doing a balancing act with bowls of peanuts, popcorn and dip sauce. A package of potato chips gritted between his teeth completed both the look and his evening’s meal. Or at least the first course of his evening’s meal.
This was the life. The whole family was out. Mr. Sheffield and Miss Fine were in New Jersey, attending a Shakespeare Festival, while the children were off to some tennis camp. For hours on end, he’d have no one calling out for his help. No one assigning tasks to him. No dinner to prepare, no dishwashing to take care of. The only thing that stood between him and that TV set, was a table filled with nibbly things.
Hmm, this was delish. He’d been planning to clean out the kitchen cabinets for a while, and, well, now was as good a time as ever. Not? Had tonight not happened, he may never have found out how well olive paste rounded off cheese crackers. Not to mention the effect of the wine vinegar upon the anchovy.
Ooh, yes, this was the life.
Niles flicked through the various TV channels. No program was especially appealing, but that in itself was oddly satisfying. Every once in a while, there’s nothing better than watching idly to the flickering of the small screen, allowing the grey cells some time off.
After a while, Niles lost his interest into the flimsy storyline. He’d never been very good with love stories. Always so predictable. Man meets woman, they dilly-dally around one other for a while, then they step back, only to come together again in one all-encompassing embrace. The End.
No, then real life was far more unpredictable. Take his employer, for example. For years, Maxwell Sheffield had mourned over his lost wife. Then, out of the blue, came Fran Fine. Well, she couldn’t exactly be called blue - in a way she even had far more savoir vivre than Maxwell Sheffield had ever had. And somehow, that was exactly what the man needed.
Niles had seized upon the situation at once, of course. After all, a butler is there to serve his Master’s needs. Even if the Master himself is unaware of those needs. The fact that the brandnew nanny had as much as shattered all of C.C.’s Babcock’s hopes for Mr. Sheffield, was only the icing on the cake. Fran’s victory over the Ice Princess had tasted so sweetly, that Niles himself could not completely explain it.
But, back to his employer. And his nanny. Yes, his nanny, too. Because Miss Fine had not only taken the children into her heart, she’d also thawed her boss’s soul. Now if only someone could thaw his mind as well.
Niles sighed. Oh, it was so clear to him. When those two got within each other’s reach, there was an undeniable sense of intimacy about it. At least, undeniable to him. Yet, despite the fits of jealousy, despite the few stolen, but nonetheless passionate kisses, his boss refused to admit... well, simply anything. And Miss Fine... Either she was blind, or she didn’t want to believe it, really. Didn’t want to set her hopes up too high. Who could blame her?
And thus, it all came back to him. Niles, the butler. To serve, and anticipate all of his Master’s needs. Pulling the strings, in an attempt to draw those two together. Weaving intricate patterns around them. And keeping Babcock and the children at bay. His list of tricks was endless. His list of failures was almost as long.
Putting chilled champagne onto the desk, together with two longstemmed glasses. If only Master Brighton hadn’t discovered the bubbles first...
Ordering a pair of earrings over the phone. Using Mr. Sheffield’s credit card, of course. After all, knowing Miss Fine, she could very well have traced that order, and it had to look genuine. If only Mr. Sheffield hadn’t insisted to the delivery boy that there’d been a mix-up of sorts...
Stealing one of her perfumes, and spraying it into the office, so he’d be subconsciously reminded to the nanny all day long. If only Babcock hadn’t thrown open the Venice doors because of what she called “a fishy smell”...
And how many times hadn’t he told her admirers that No, Miss Fine could not come to the phone, because she was engaged. Knowing fully well that those New Yorkers would interpret the word ‘engaged’ somewhat differently than he had meant it. If only she wouldn’t have so many admirers...
Yet, ever so often, at times when Niles had least expected it, suddenly things had moved into a higher gear. He still vividly remembered how he had caught the two of them in Miss Fine’s bedroom, with him literally yanking her dress from her body. Or that morning, only two weeks ago, when he found both of them in bed together. Now that event had certainly made his day. And luring Miss Babcock in, had made it only better.
Niles couldn’t supress a smile when he thought of the horror on Babcock’s face. Oh, it had been worth every second of it. Seeing her enter that room, the room of her dreams, her hopes. My God, she’d as much darted inside, all excited about setting foot into the most intimate heart of Mr. Sheffield’s privacy - his bedroom. Only to find out that someone had met with that intimacy mere hours before her. And when she let out the scream, and it echoed in Niles’ ears, he had felt a complete and utter sense of satisfaction.
Oh, he shouldn’t have done that. He knew it was highly improper. Not to mention a real intrusion upon his Master’s private life. But it had simply been an opportunity too tempting to resist. Oh, yes... Hmm.
Niles grinned over it, while he swirled the liquor in his glass. Suddenly, the motion stopped. The smile slowly disappeared from his face. He sat there, big-eyed, as he began to realize that he may have made a mistake. As good as it had felt, his quest to humiliate Babcock in every way thinkable had blinded him for his other life task. Allowing the Ice Princess to enter that room, had ended all the privacy Mr. Sheffield and Miss Fine had shared. Or could still share.
Worse yet. He hadn’t simply allowed Babcock inside, no. He himself had lured her in there, knowing fully well what was going inside. Or what might have been going on inside, later on.
Come to think of it... That time he’d walked past her room, when they were, well... busy in it, he’d been so flabbergasted he’d retraced his steps and had simply stared at them.
Good God...
Why hadn’t he closed the door? Shood the children out? Cracked a bottle of champagne? Switched on the intercom? You know - for emergency cases. But no. He’d simply gawked at them. Talk about an intrusion. About indiscretion. Of course, they’d seen him standing there, only seconds later. The look on both faces a mixture of guilt and shock over being discovered. And instead of wishing them good luck and backing off, the only thing he had thought of was how he would break it to Babcock.
He, Niles, had violated the first law of the Butlers’ Association’s Primary Rules. He’d placed his own needs above those of his Master’s.
Mingling into his Master’s life was a butler’s job. But knowing when to step back, was what distinguished a good butler from a mediocre one.
Listening in on private conversations was one thing. Every butler did that. After all, he had to anticipate his Master’s needs. And since he was no mind-reader, well...
Even using the secret knowledge for his own benefit, could still be justified. As long as it didn’t harm anyone, and he was happy, the total outcome was only positive. But when the usage of that information led to disservice to the Master, that was about the gravest mistake a butler could make. A butler had to honor the trust vested in him.
Granted, these were no longer the Middle Ages, and every butler meddled with the interpretation of the ground rules. But now that the thought of failure had entered Niles’ mind, he could not just easily dismiss it.
He could not undo the harm he’d possibly done. He could only hope that his interference had led to but a temporary cutback. That eventually, the love of the employer for the nanny would blossom.
From now on, Niles vowed, that would be his first and foremost task. And until he’d gotten those two together, he would hold back on Babcock. No more interruptions. No more peeking in. No more... Well, he couldn’t plug out the intercom. Communication was essential. A good butler is always there - in the background.
So, starting tonight, he would act like a proper butler should. If his Master’s needs would be fulfilled by Miss Fine.. Erm, let me refrase that. If his Master needed Miss Fine, well, then it was his task to make that happen. In the most subtle of ways, of course.
That is, if subtle will work... Niles sighed. Those two... Sometimes, they seemed like from stone. Unmovable.
Well, maybe he was lucky. After all, the two of them were on an evening out. Together. Alone. I.e. without him.
For a moment, Niles panicked. He knew the both of them. Especially Miss Fine had a habit of running into some trouble of sorts. Wouldn’t he be needed to pick up the pieces?
No, no, no. He had to stop thinking like that. He wouldn’t always be around anyway. At some point, they’d have to start looking after themselves. No, tonight, everything would go fine. Sure it would. Why not?
Niles smiled some courage into himself.
Funny, to think that Mr. Sheffield and Miss Fine had to thank their date to a burglar. It was almost ironic. Perhaps a burglar, a person set on disrupting other people’s life, would get his employer together with the woman of his unfathomable dreams. While he, the butler, set on making other people’s life as pleasant and smooth-going as possible, had failed completely in this matter.
Oh well. Life has its mysterious ways. Nothing that could be done about it. The least Niles could do, was try to stop blocking life’s ways.
He straightened himself up again, treated himself to a refill and raised the glass.
“Here’s to you, Mr. Burglar,” he spoke out loud.
“Thanks,” came the answer.
The instant Niles turned his head, surprise etched on his face, he was knocked out cold.
______________
Lost somewhere between the states of dream and lucidity, voices drifted towards him. A woman talking. A man’s muffled laugh.
Niles stirred. Only to find himself restrained in his movements. Was he still asleep? He tried to move his head. Aw, that hurt. If that’s reality, better stick to that other place. At least, there was no pain there.
Ouch. Now, why couldn’t he move? His head felt heavy, and kept tumbling upon his chest. But his arms and legs, they seemed... restrained somehow. In fact, he was rather uncomfortable.
A gust of wind blew into his face, as a man and a woman walked through the door. Ow, now that was better. The fresh air seemed to clear the fog in his mind. Niles lifted his head, and at that same moment, he realized he was tied onto a chair. Oddly enough, all other furniture seemd to have gone.
An instant later, it all came back to him. He wanted to let out that postponed scream, to warn the two people before him. Let them know they were in danger. What if those villains were still around?
The gag on his mouth prevented him from doing so. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t squeek. In fact, all he could do was watch in terror to the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.
“Oh, it’s good to have you back, Miss Fine.”
Yes, it sure was! Now if they’d only quickly discover and untie him...
“I missed you.”
Come on, man! Stop babbling, and cut those cord-- What?
“Oh, Mr. Sheffield. Is that you talking, or the bottle of Don Corleone we just had in the limo?”
Seemed like Miss Fine had at much trouble believing those words as he had.
“That’s Dom Perignon, Miss Fine.”
Niles could hear his employer chuckle in the dark. A careless, free chuckle. The butler raised one eyebrow. Of course, that was about the only movement he could make, but it also expressed the turmoil inside of his head. Could this be the moment? Could this be actually it? Oh, baby. This was going way too fast.
“Oh, Miss Fine...”
Up came that tension again, sweeping through the house. The atmosphere thickened instantly. Niles breathing became even more troubled.
“Fran...”
Niles stopped breathing altogether. He’d promised himself not to interfere, this time, and he would honor that promise. Besides, he had a front row seat upon the Grand Finale. So why complain about the uncomfortableness of being tied up to a chair?
“Mister...”
God, his leg itched.
“Max?”
He could see both figures leaning into one another. Not a sound to be heard. There was only a sense of wonder, engulfing the lovers and their witness.
Time seemed to stand still. Yet, they defied time. The itch, too, persevered. His throat felt all dry. His arms had gone numb. He couldn’t feel his legs. And Mr. Sheffield was stroking Miss Fine’s hair.
Well, perhaps he should let them know he was here, now. After all, they’d taken that first hurdle. And er... It might be a good idea to stop the performance right there, before it became too embarassing. Setting it up was one thing. Seeing the pay-off unfolding in front of his eyes another.
He cleared his troath, as their lips locked. Wonder became passion. They were lost in their own world, not paying attention to the tied-up butler.
Okay, so this wasn’t gonna work. Wait, they were finishing off. Yes, that was is, they were about to break apart again.
He moaned.
“Fran, I...,” Mr. Sheffield breathed in response.
Hey, was this all the reaction he was going to get? Damn, this was getting embarassing. He moaned again, louder this time.
“I... I know.”
Hello?
Suddenly, he scooped her up in one fluent motion, and started up the stairs.
Hey? Wait!
Niles started moaning and mumbling, shifting from left to right on his chair, creating as much of a fuss as he possibly could. To no avail. With a few big steps, they’d reached the landing, rounded the corner and disappeared out of view.
Oh great. Oh, this was really swell. Haha. If it wouldn’t be so entirely ridiculous, he’d laugh at the situation. Granted, he had vowed not to interfere anymore. And, admittedly, he wasn’t a hunderd percent certain that he’d uphold this new rule of his, at every single situation. But getting him tied up to a chair was a lousy way to make sure he honored that promise. Someone Up There was playing a dirty trick on him.
Oh, he shouldn’t be here. Not now. Not on this Night of Nights. Even when this sacrifice would grant him the title of Butler of The Year, this wasn’t worth it. Or...
Wait. Maybe it was worth it. After all...
Babcock.
Hmmm...
Well.
One could only hope, now, that the burglars hadn’t taken the bed, too.
The End
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