J. Donleavy - Leila - Further in the Life and Destinies of Darcy Dancer, Gentleman

‘Hey where the hell again my dear do you think you’re going with that when a chap is as famished as I am from hunting all day.’

‘I am sorry your majesty.’

‘I’m not a bloody king.’

‘Pardon me sir.’

‘I’m a potato digging bog trotter like the rest of you. Just have a few more acres than most to do it in.’

Of course my sisters loved every word out of his mouth. Even laughed as he ladled a little gravy on his pate. And rubbed it in to make as he said, his hair sprout. Of course he was not known as the Mental Marquis for nothing. And I must confess myself finding him occasionally damn funny. But one’s amusement wore damn thin each time he actually stopped talking waiting for Leila to come back into the room.

‘Ah wait, we must wait, till all our beautiful ears are listening.’

Shovelled in along with his Brussels sprouts, eight slabs of lamb he consumed. Pucks of potatoes. Quaffed two bottles of my best claret. Interrupted three of my best jokes. Of which I only know four. And he of course would take ages helping himself to anything Leila was serving. Remarking on how marvellously steady she was holding the dish. When anyone could see she was shaking like a leaf. And finally one found it a solace when my sisters withdrew. And I found it increasingly difficult to remain civil and execute one’s duties as a host. Crooks with the cigars and Leila placing the port on the table.

‘Ah there now Kildare is a combination. Exquisite decanter held by an exquisite hand.’

One simply could not look at Leila’s face. In case she was pleased by this quite pedestrian observation. Plus she did have chilblains. Crooks did however close proceedings with one of his sepulchral announcements concerning the decanter’s contents.

‘Laid down the day upon which you were born sir.’

‘Ah Crooks are you referring to me or his Lordship.’

‘To you of course sir.’

‘Ah I do apologize Crooks but you will forgive me for saying so, I did think you were looking at his Lordship.’

Needless to say we were all getting crosseyed. Crooks happily not taking my comment amiss. Clapping his hands going back in through the pantry door and whispering to those assembled there.

‘Get your ears back away from here listening at the door, the lot of you. Be quick about it.’

The Marquis knowing of his eager audience beaming in a broad smile pouring himself a port and pushing the decanter at me. The wind bellowing and rumbling up the chimney just as one imagined one heard a slate crash off the roof somewhere. Or was it a member of the staff crying rape. All sounds were getting to sound the same.

‘Kildare, dear chap. Jolly good dinner. Jolly damn good port. Jolly damn good as my own. But let’s get down to brass tacks here, as hunting men. She is, quite without doubt Kildare, the most exquisitely alluring elegantly beautiful creature I have ever seen. And what’s more with a surname quite out of the context of being a servant. Surely you’re not keeping her here like this are you. I mean forgive me my dear chap I have no intention to meddle in your domestic affairs, none whatever. But come come. Out with it now. The lady, for that’s clearly what she is, knows about art.’

‘She does quite.’

‘Does quite. Does more than does quite, damn it. Telling me about the Florentine, she was. Giotto, Donatello, bloody Michelangelo. This o and that o. Of course I was mostly tight as a newt when I was in Florence. And the dear creature has hardly even been to Tralee yet. Got a mind as impressive as her beauty. Damn good port this. I mean to say dear boy, one does get one’s fill of empty chatterboxes occasionally. So nice to talk a moment of the finer things. But the middle ages are over. Can’t keep a girl locked away. I mean to say a man is now and again caught with his kilt up, like any man who likes a gallop.’

‘I can’t see what exactly you’re driving at sir.’

‘Damn it Kildare I’m not your grandfather, call me Horatio, that’s my Christian name. I know behind my back I’m called something else. But there’s a lass for which one lays down one’s future. Of course I’ve got my past plethora of indiscretions. Of course I have. Skeletons clacking in the rear vestibule pantry closet, and that sort of thing. One does get in an occasional spot of bother as a fledgling flying officer. Then as you rise up in rank you tend to try to stop your junior officers making the same sort of high flying fools of themselves. I could do with going up for a spin in a Spitfire tonight. What about that Kildare. I’ll come over in an aircraft one of these days. You’ve got enough level meadow for a landing field. Have a few wizard bloody prangs. Take you upstairs. Buzzing the bloody peasants hereabout downstairs. But now admit it. What’s a young devil like you doing with a girl here as a skivvy whose sidelong glances could one day change the course of nations.’

‘I’m afraid I rather do regard your remarks as being transparent.’

‘What. Bloody hell, Kildare. I don’t like the sound of that word one bit. But since I’m drinking your damn fine port let’s not quarrel about that, especially when the subject of brains is at stake. Now don’t you agree that a woman’s mind is of some importance. I mean let’s face it man to man. You put your old what for up their well meant for and you do your best done for and then you want to be immediately a mile away shooting snipe. Wouldn’t it be better to be able to have a civilized word with a woman one has just pranged. What the deuce is the matter with you Kildare. Don’t you see what I’m talking about here. It’s a matter of principle.’

Of course both of us calling for still more port were finally quite tight. And totally forgetting my sisters. Till Crooks appropriately clearing his throat at the door reminded one. As much as one found the Marquis’ designs on Leila a bitter thought one does admit it could brighten her future. And also rid me of one of my very best reasons for remaining alive. Which does make one considerably angry especially as he keeps dropping more than a little of his cigar ash on the carpet. But one does still find him amusing. As well as suddenly sad. Sitting there. Staring into space. Looking terribly lonely.

‘You see Kildare. Fraud, artifice, overreaching and deception are fundamental to democracy. Therefore I believe in socialism. You know what that is do you. Fair shares for all you know. We’ve been kicking the damn peasants around for too long. Now they’re trying to kick us. I don’t mind them poaching a few of my bloody salmon but some damn rogue has killed about two hundred of my trees. Hammered a copper nail into each wretched one. Our way of life is going you know. We want to be ready. When socialism comes. Yes siree as they say in Amerikay. You know power to the ruddy people and all that kind of cod’s bloody wallop. It’s a pity, but brains are not going to matter in the future you know. Fault of too much damn thinking getting nobody anywhere in the past. The war you know. Made too many people realize you had to kick someone in the goolies if you wanted him to do something. Man to man Kildare, what does a brainy chap like you think of socialism.’

‘I have not as a matter of fact recently thought about it.’

‘Well you think about it Kildare. But by god when you’ve got a female item like that gaoled out in this neck of the god forsaken bog.’

‘I’ll thank you not to refer to her as an item.’

‘What. What. Good god. You’re not, are you. Smitten too. By jove you are. You well and truly are. Your face may be affected by the wine dear chap but a bloodier blush than that I’ve never seen. Now look here Kildare. Just shut up and listen won’t you for a moment. Girl like that. Should be in London and Paris. I’ve got a proposition to make you. Now here it is in a nutshell. You agree to my taking her, quite properly chaperoned of course, over to my place where she can be trained up, and if a spade’s to be called a spade, also groomed damn it, and polished. Made fit for society. And not bloody high society am I talking about here. I mean good bloody sound society. And if you’d only shut up and listen Kildare. The girl already knows some French. And we’d teach her some Italian too. Chi nasce bella nasce maritata. If you get my meaning. I mean someone’s going to steal her Kildare. And it may as well be a damn decent kindly chap like me.’