Pocketful Of Dough Master - Jack Aubrey

Title: Pocketful of Dough Author: Taffey Rating: PG Movie Character: Jack Aubrey, “Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World” Disclaimer: The following story has been written with no intention of claiming ownership or solicitation, nor does the author claim the movie character(s) as his/her own. The movie character(s) have been borrowed solely out of a love of the particular movie and is not intended for any other purpose but amusement and entertainment. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Once more, Lt. Jack Aubrey found himself where he dearly hated being—on land. Only when in the presence of Miss Catherine Parker could he relax enough to enjoy his shore time. She always made bearable the embarrassment he inevitably found himself in. Tonight he was at a dinner party being held at the Denny House. It was one of those ostentatious places with glass chandeliers, crystal glassware, and, much to Jack’s annoyance, eight eating utensils to wrestle with. He could never understand why one needed three forks, three spoons, and two knives. He got along fine on his ship with one knife and one hand. It was uncivilized to expect a man of the sea to cater to every whim of protocol. Jack felt unusually grumpy because the lovely and kind-hearted Catherine Parker wasn’t at the party. He suffered through these invitations just to see her. And, if he wasn’t cross enough, his friend, Stephen Maturin, was late. At least if Stephen sat nearby, he could curb Jack’s urge to blurt things out. Stephen always knew when Jack’s foot was cutting a quick path to his mouth. He also tolerated Jack’s “bad” jokes and butchered sayings. It’s not that Jack was willfully clumsy. When he envisioned his conversation, it seemed just fine. But, somehow, once the words escaped his lips, they sailed an uncharted course to shipwreck. 1

Jack got up from the table and proceeded to the long entryway hoping to see Stephen in the large coat room. He was fighting a fierce headache and felt his mood growing fouler. Just then he saw someone come through the door that he definitely didn’t want to speak to. Miss Candice Appleby was a chattering silly and always cornered him. In his present frame of mind, there was no telling what he’d say; so he ducked in the coat room and hid behind a line of capes and coats. From behind the garments, he heard Miss Appleby’s shrill voice pass through the lobby. He was about to extricate himself from the coats when he heard booted footsteps of authority enter the large coat room. Jack held his breath waiting. The footsteps came his way and stopped in front of him. Jack attempted to flatten his 6’2” frame against the wall, but a hand reached up and parted the capes. It was Adm. Randall Parker. “Good evening, sir,” a red-faced Jack said, swallowing hard. “Lt. Aubrey.” Adm. Parker looked at Jack with narrowing eyes, waiting for an explanation. “Ah-sir, I was looking for--.” What could he possibly be searching for between a group of outer garments? Worse yet, what if the Admiral thought he was stealing. “I was, ah —“ “Yes, Lt. Aubrey?” “Ah, I was actually hiding from someone,” he admitted. “You know how embarrassing I can be? A person of importance was approaching and I knew they’d engage me in conversation and I’d end up insulting them and their parents and--.” It was no use. He had not only made a fool out of himself, but he’d done it in front of Catherine’s father. Jack hung his head and quickly exited the coat room. Before he reached the door, he recognized a coat hanging to his right. It was Stephen’s fur coat. Stephen had a decent income and no responsibilities. He had no vices eating away at his money. Why he didn’t dress appropriately was beyond Jack. He put the most mismatched and scruffy garments together. Usually Jack overlooked the problem, as Stephen was his friend. Given the circumstances of tonight though-- not seeing Catherine, having just posed as an idiot for her father, plus the knowledge that at some point he was going to have to listen to Miss Appleby’s nonsense, Jack felt hurt that Stephen was here and chose to be entertained by someone else. Jack returned to his table and sulked. He felt restless and couldn’t seem to sit still. Finally dinner was being served! Much to his dismay, it was broiled steak. He wasn’t that fond of beef, but broiling it took all the life out of the meat. It was served with dumplings and turnips. Jack groaned. It was as though everyone was purposely trying to aggravate him tonight. Where was the fish? Couldn’t someone have requested pork?

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Then he saw them approaching his table—Miss Appleby and her escort. Poor bloke must be deaf by now, Jack thought. Every muscle in his body told him that he should run. But he just sat there, as if glued to his seat, his torture sealed. “Oh, Lt. Aubrey! How nice to see you. How are you? You look good. I’m fine. I was sick last week.” “Nothing fatal, I see,” Jack noted dryly. Miss Appleby cackled joyously, much to Jack’s chagrin. “Oh, Lt. Aubrey, you say the funniest things.” But Jack wasn’t laughing. Suddenly he saw Stephen about five tables away. He tried to bore holes in Stephen’s skull with his deep blue eyes; but Stephen was busy conversing with a beautiful blonde. Apparently she didn’t mind his less-than-white shirt, half hanging out of his pants. “I was only sick for a week,” Candice continued on. “Too bad,” Jack grumbled. “Miss Appleby, I wouldn’t want you to be eating a cold dinner,” he said tersely, hoping her table was an ocean away from his table. “I ate already. That was very considerate of you to care.” Jack glanced over to where Stephen had been standing; but he had moved. “Did you know my sister is going to Spain? She’s only 16, but my father says she’s old enough. She hates traveling though. She likes being at her destination, but not getting there. She wants to take her cat--.” On and on it went. Candice Appleby managed to keep her lips moving for another twenty minutes non-stop. Finally he could take no more—he had to choke her. “Oh-h-h!” she suddenly yelled out in Jack’s ear. “It’s Lady Elgar.” With that, she was up and on the move after the retreating Lady Elgar. However, she didn’t clear the table before imposing her full 300 pounds on Jack’s foot. Once she left, Jack was alone with a plate of bland meat and cold dumplings. Stephen was nowhere to be found and Jack felt neglected. Between his splitting head, throbbing foot, and his hurt feelings, he decided to teach Stephen a lesson. Jack piled two lumpy, cold dumplings into a napkin and headed to the coat room. There he slipped them into the pocket of Stephen’s fur coat—minus the napkin. As he made his way back to the table, a smile of devilish proportions lit up his face. He sat there satisfied and pleased. After about ten minutes, something began to nudge his conscience. Jack tried to push the feeling away. Then Jack saw Stephen reappear from a back room and brightened up considerably. Stephen tolerated Jack’s bad jokes, his clumsy moves—he was a good friend. Stephen waved and made his way to Jack’s table. He was wearing beige pants with a white wrinkled shirt. Jack could see s spot of some sort on the front-probably gravy. But he didn’t care; he was just glad to see his friend. Jack looked at Stephen’s shoes; they were

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an odd color. How did Stephen manage to find such a wardrobe and then top it off with a black fur coat. Jack remembered, with much guilt, what he had done to Stephen’s coat. “Jack!” Stephen called out as he sat down. “How are you?” “F-fine, just fine.” Jack stammered. Stephen sat in front of a plate of food and began to eat ravenously. “Aren’t you hungry, friend?” Stephen asked concerned. “No, I ate before I came,” he lied. Jack felt awful. What a petulant child he had been. Stephen wasn’t at his beck and call; he wasn’t put on earth to make his life easier. There was nothing to do but confess the deed and offer to buy him another hideous fur garment. “S-stephen?” he began timidly. Stephen, who had been eyeing his friend between mouthfuls, looked worried. “What is it, Jack?” “I’ve done, uh, something, er….” “Yes?” Suddenly a scream ripped through the room; it came from the front hallway. “My coat! My brand new fur coat! It’s ruined!” Stephen and Jack made their way to the coat area. Standing there, almost in tears, was Edna Parker, Catherine’s mother. “My coat! Someone put food in my pocket!” Jack stood there blinking. He was immensely relieved he hadn’t damaged Stephen’s coat. How he ever mistook this beautiful garment as Stephen’s he hadn’t a clue. Stephen looked questioningly at Jack. “This wasn’t what you were trying to tell me. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?” Jack nodded remorsefully, wondering how he was going to wriggle out of this one. “You ruined the coat belonging to the mother of the woman you’re trying to impress?” he asked incredulously. “Why?” Jack shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled weakly. Stephen frowned for a few seconds; then his face lit up. “You devil!” he declared brightly. “Only a genius would have thought up such a scheme!” Jack nodded enthusiastically, having absolutely no clue what Stephen was talking about. “Jack, you are truly a bold fellow, ruining a coat Mrs. Parker can easily afford to replace just so you can rush to her side and make an impression!” “Yes!” Jack shouted, beginning to walk towards the distraught woman. He was so relieved, he began to shake. Once again, Stephen had rescued him from a ‘situation’, this time without realizing it. “Stephen, my friend, you see right through me!” he laughed.

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There was a crowd standing by Mrs. Parker when Jack began to take charge. “Mrs. Parker, let me see the damage.” She showed him the dumplings in her pocket. “Perchance I can fix that for you. Please, sit down and permit me to get you an aperitif whilst I tackle this mess.” Stephen took Mrs. Parker’s hand and led her to a table nearby. Jack, clutching the coat guiltily, went to get her a drink. Stephen wondered at Jack’s nerve and resourcefulness. It certainly wasn’t like his friend to faultlessly engineer such a plot. Stephen shook his head. Jack was always full of surprises. “It’s all right, Mrs. Parker. Maybe Lt. Aubrey can fix your coat,” Stephen said, patting her hand. “He’s a good boy,” Mrs. Parker said, drying her eyes. “My husband thinks he’s strange, but I’ll have none of that talk from now on!” Stephen smiled. Well, Jack’s got himself one notch closer to Catherine, he thought.

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