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

And Luke in the hospital. Because washing the muck and barley off himself and never having been in a bathtub before in his life, slipped and broke his arse bone. Crooks loftily announcing.

‘Serves him right taking the presumption of cleansing himself in the manner to which he is clearly not accustomed.’

And the ferocious bull was all the talk of the house till Foxy Slattery’s younger brother to whom Foxy must have taught every trick thought he’d have a go with him. And got flung up into the branches of a tree. Then the little eegit caused a fire in the tack room chimney while heaping up logs and toasting himself asleep. The tiresome little scoundrel then pouring lamp oil on it to put it out. The only thing he seems to know how to do is every five minutes sneak into the house to get biscuits from the kitchen. Or if Catherine is resting after her lunch, to fry up a cauldron of eggs, bacon and sausages, enough for an army. And then into the jams and preserves, and after scooping out half their contents the little fucker tightens the caps on everything in the larder so that cook can’t open them. Till Dingbats tried breaking them open with a poker and serves me broken glass in my breakfast honey and jam. Meet amusing bloody people. My god. Someone too, of course, was also being amusing supposing to entertain me by placing a rubber mouse in my bed, not realizing that such creatures were already scampering across my face very much alive and waking me from sleep in the middle of the night. Meet bloody amusing people. My dears. They’re right here under your noses. Of course they’re no doubt wanting their potential suitors, at whom they invariably were turning up their noses, to all be arrayed at their disposal along the ballroom walls. That is if Lavinia wasn’t already hiding behind various pieces of drawing room furniture, as she did when Crooks came to announce a caller who was it appeared, enamoured of her, and of whom it would also appear she was not enamoured, while Christabel at the same time was throwing herself with a screech prostrate in a faint on the soaked garden lawn to attract his attention.

‘Now there’s plenty of light sir.’

Darcy Dancer pulling himself up from under the covers. Dingbats lighting the bedside candles. And would you believe. Performing a curtsey. Her concern over my upper nudity would not appear to be as great as it is over Crooks’ alleged prodding finger.

‘And now while the door is open behind me, should I be back to you sir momentarily. With the more of anything you may want.’

‘There’s yesterday’s newspaper in the library, if you’d bring it please Mollie.’

‘Very good sir, I’ll be back, momentarily.’

Dingbats withdrawing. Tiptoeing towards the door. She closes with a new silence I’ve certainly not heard before. And of course one will wait momentarily. And wonder momentarily whyever she is increasing her vocabulary so formidably. Especially with a word unheard of in this household since I’m sure it was built. There was of course momentarily a risqué moment with one’s chest exposed in the dim light. O god and why does not my loyal lady ever bring me breakfast. Ever come in that door to my lonely dark. And she. She is what I want. Your lovely purple ribbon. On your lovely black hair. To take up its satin in my fingers. To undo. O god. As I might. Your body. To lie it stretched soft sinewy beneath mine. Souls clutched in warmth. Side of a slender neck to kiss. A brow to touch and tender. And have nothing. Except all these days to try to shut out all the thoughts of her. The jealousy. Like a great massive void. Cloaks my brain. Not once, not even once to speak to her all these days. Not even thank her. Except to see her come and go in the dining room. The inane conversation of my sisters. I’m sure appalling her ears. Of the dances and balls in London. The horses and hunting in Leicestershire. Racing at Newmarket. And the most grim and terrible embarrassment of all. Lavinia suggesting that she smelled. One knew Leila heard by the cold implacable fury rigid on her face, followed by her sudden departure, with a crash of crockery in the pantry, and resounding slam of a door. Dingbats leapt backwards into the dining room with a blob of whipped cream between the eyes as Crooks, his shoes and lower trousers splattered with trifle, reappeared, his one eye staring directly east and the other at the northwest corner of the ceiling which at that unfavourable moment started to leak.

‘Forgive me sir, and your ladyships, but the pudding lately prepared for this evening is regrettably indisposed.’

O god one did wish one’s sisters would soon go elsewhere. With their now written commands following breakfast in bed. Making suggestions as to decor, mealtimes, servants’ rosterings and issuing orders all over the place. Each wanting their own private apartments and the silver on their dressing tables daily polished. And my best horses to hunt. Complaining about the lack of hot water, and the overabundance of cold sheets, their bedroom fires untended and draughty rooms. That tea was late to the parlour. And that it was Indian and not the China with lemon they preferred. Dingbats at least this morning seems all intent upon dancing better attendance upon one. Having in the middle of the night one of her more normal occurrences. With Kitty banging at my door in her nightdress. Come quickly sir with the shotgun, a vampire bat is flying round Mollie’s head and a rat has her cornered in her room. Of course we were all minus our ear drums as a result. With the explosion sending the bat to kingdom come along with two panes out of the window. And the whole household peeking out their doors thinking the world had just ended. The only constructive thing being, that it was obvious to anyone watching Dingbats jump and leap up and down on her mattress that she did have such a great pair of tits, of which any poor understocked farmer would be immensely proud to find on his best cow. And here she is now. In my bedroom door. Actually breathing heavily. Back sooner than one expected. And believe it or not with the newspaper.

‘Sir here you are now and did you ever hear tell of what happened to that man Hitler. They say he’s living. In secret seclusion. Not ten miles from here.’

‘I’m sure he is Mollie.’

‘And is there anything else now I can do sir.’

‘No thank you, Mollie.’

‘Draw your bath.’

‘Ah yes, you might indeed.’

Awfully difficult to know what prompts a servant’s sudden diligence. There’s no doubt one’s previous nudity helped her to take one more seriously. Although god, this is bloody last month’s paper. They are such an utterly stupid lot. Certainly one’s sisters would agree. Yesterday, while I took tea in the estate office, they had theirs in the blue parlour. And which on this particularly mournful occasion, Leila brought. And concerning which, joining them later for drinks before dinner, Lavinia bitterly complained.

‘She’s insolent. She should be let go. She’s talking back. Not only refusing to do what she’s told. Do you know what she did. Threw the tea strainer at me from the door. Nearly struck me. Then she lifted up her uniform at me. Above her thighs. After bringing us Indian tea again. And having been told China.’

I must say I was tempted to say it was a pity the whole thing wasn’t dumped on them. To get them up off their grand arses which only shifted out of their beds to either recline in feather upholstery or sit on a horse. And then I did say it.

‘It’s a pity she didn’t dump it on you to get you up off your continually leisurely arses.’

‘Well damn you brother, for your privileged information, she did dump it on us.’

Then monopolizing the gramophone in the library. And playing their ruddy rumba over and over again. Bloody Brazil. Which record if I hear it just once more, I shall break. Then switching the wireless on and off when they see fit. And more often than not absenting themselves and running down the battery requiring its recharging in town. Their imperious descent of the grand staircase. And as they did so, invariably issuing in their lofty grand manner some inane request to any servant seen in the vicinity. Especially Crooks.