Anyway, this is the one where Bertie gets himself into the soup and… no, hang on.
Let’s start again, shall we? I got this back off a mate I’d lent it to who was looking for something different to read, and when I talked to him about it, I didn’t think I’d read it. Even as I was reading the first chapter, I still wasn’t sure. And then suddenly it clicked. I think it was when Bingo convinced Bertie to impersonate a romance novelist in order to convince his uncle (Bingo’s uncle) to allow him (Bingo) to marry a coffee shop waitress. Surprisingly, Bertie is able to pull this feat off without Jeeves’ help.
Things then progress in a disorderly fashion, through a number of largely unconnected scenes – which is one thing I thought was different about this particular J.&W. book – featuring various cousins, aunts, Bingo, Steggles and in various venues, some traditional sporting venues and some more avant garde. Bingo’s income and fortunes fluctuate a fair bit; he falls in and out of love in much the same way as other chaps change their socks. Bertie gets into Jeeves’ bad graces by dint of certain purchases, notably a pair of brightly coloured spats.
At one stage, Bertie’s bedroom is filled with cats, which is not much to anyone’s liking.
But in the end, thanks again to the quietly efficient machinations of the man Jeeves, everything ends up just as it should be.