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

‘You fool you fool, take them off.’

‘O shit now I have paint all over my feet.’

‘O god. O dear god. Hit the rat, hit him, he’s crouched going to jump at me.’

‘This should put paid to him. Soon as I take aim.’

‘O my god don’t throw my very last full tube of flake white at him when you’ve already squeezed out the others. Do you know how much a tube costs. Do you.’

‘But I hit him. Did you see that. I bloody well sent that footling rat for six.’

‘Yes. And now he’s right back under this bed. O god, this is worse than being bombed in Bloomsbury by the bloody Germans.’

‘Watch it, Lois he’s after you. There he is again. The rat.’

‘O god, god for heaven’s sake do something. I think he’s growling and snarling at me. This is absolutely the most wretched night of my absolutely entire life. And you’re back on my Afghan rug again. Get off.’

‘Blithering hell, I could have clonked him one just then if you’d only calm down and let me.’

‘I was to hang that as a backdrop for my large commission which I haven’t even got yet. O how wretched. O how I cruel. I shall just lie here now in a heap and the. Please go home. Go away. At least a rat will not destroy my entire professional life.’

‘Certainly, Madam if you feel that way.’

‘No rat however awful can be as hideously horrifying as what you have wrought upon my future as an artist.’

‘Well damn you Madam as an artist. I was trying to save you as a human being. From possible bubonic plague. I will of course leave you with the rat, since you prefer.’

Lois, legs in Wellington boots hanging over the edge of her bed. Hands up clutched covering her face, as she lies crumpled in a heap. Church bell ringing the half hour. A shudder of wind across the skylight. And a moan down the stove chimney.

‘O god. Blackmail. Sheer absolute cruel blackmail. Ruin me. Run off. Leave me. Go ahead. After making you cocoa with the milk I intended for breakfast. After I’ve put turf in my stove to be hospitable. And opened up my chimney flue. You cruel wretched creature. I might have known.’

‘Madam I think you’re absolutely nuts.’

‘Nuts am I. Nuts. You call me nuts. I am not nuts. I have never been nuts. That’s one of those stupid American expressions.’

‘Clearly you know what it means.’

‘Of course I know what it stupidly well means.’

‘Well do you or don’t you want me to go. I am perfectly content not to go on attempting to kill your rat. And of course I shall see to your carpet being cleaned.’

‘Cleaned. Are you mad. Absolutely raving mad. How. Do you expect me to entrust a precious heirloom to an Irish cleaner’s. Where I’ve already had my one and only tweed suit washed and boiled by imbeciles and given back to me to wear. Shrunken so dreadfully that it is fit only for a midget or to use as rags to wipe my brushes. Cleaned. My god.’

‘Madam, I sigh. My socks and shoes of course are also discoloured. Honestly I simply don’t know what to do. Or suggest. Aside from hoping that you would accede to painting my portrait on my horse and in hunting clothes and that this might be considered as some form of tiny restitution.’

‘Well, at least at last you’re thinking in the right direction.’

‘Shall we agree then. To a full portrait. On my horse.’

‘Of course a canvas that size must be specially made and is frightfully expensive. And indeed to include your horse. Not to mention the amount of paint required.’

‘I assure you Madam.’

‘Please do stop calling me Madam. Surely you can accept that we are familiar enough now for Christian names.’

‘Lois, I assure you money is no object.’

‘Well, you’re showing promise as patron. My other commission permitting, I shall try to fit you in.’

‘Thank you. I am so grateful. And of course one hopes you will do it while I am in residence at Andromeda Park. One will put at your disposal the necessary room or rooms in which to paint. Ah the rat seems quiet. Now do you think Lois we might please, retire together to bed.’

‘It doesn’t take you long to change from your role as patron. Does it.’

‘I beg your pardon.’

‘I’m not some sort of nymphomaniac. I’ve already said four times. I’m celibate. Why prey on me. Why not find some pure little innocent girl your own age. Although she may not suck your cock, you might terminate her virginity for her. I can’t believe you’re now inviting yourself into my bed.’

‘Well I don’t see any other beds in the room.’

‘Ha ha, that is awfully funny.’

‘Well one is rather tired. And it would keep you protected. Rats are vicious creatures. Especially ones as large as that.’

‘This is utter blackmail. Is your commission blackmail too. You do this to me. Are you desperate.’

‘Well yes I’m equally as desperate as perhaps you hopefully might be.’

‘Don’t you dare call me desperate. And don’t start removing your clothes. You are the most exasperatingly presumptuous young man aren’t you. I certainly think you are. And as bourgeois as it may sound, you’re clearly exhibiting the result of a long lack of proper parental influence and control. One hates to bring up personalities but I had heard your father did seem to desert you.’

‘What he did do Madam, was to sell off cattle, land and go off with certain valuable furnishings, not his property, and set up with a mistress here in Dublin.’

‘You did though didn’t you have the care and counsel of that goose stepping phony Austrian nazi Princess Miss von B who it appears is again about town.’

‘That remark I think is highly uncalled for. She was a brilliant housekeeper and is a genuine aristocrat.’

‘Yes who gave you genuine love bites if I remember correctly. Yet you do seem to remain so naively innocent.’

‘Exactly why Madam, your company helps acquaint me with the ways of the world. Perhaps as a philistine imperialist member of the squirarchy, you can help cultivate in me a true artistic spirit.’

‘I doubt it very much. But you do, don’t you possess the most astonishing nerve. Taking off your clothes like this. And waving that in my face in that manner. I still think your face is so Flemish. And you are callous, don’t you know how hard it is for me to resist wanting your very well endowed cock inside me. Don’t you. Making me face temptation like this. And how difficult it makes it for me.’

‘Madam you think it’s difficult for you. You’re not the only one. Country gendemen suffer. I’ve had months of celibacy too. When before one’s very eyes one’s very own bulls and stallions not to mention roosters, are, to put it in the vulgar vernacular, freely fucking my heifers, fillies and hens.’

‘What. How could celibacy be a hardship. In your thousands of acres. Snap your fingers for breakfast, just summon, and tea served you. Butler, cook, maids. Suffer. I’ll go suffer there. Quite gladly.’

‘It’s not quite a snap of the fingers, Lois. It’s a pull on the servants’ bell and often one has to dislodge to rise from one’s chair to do it.’

‘O dear, poor you. My family were never quite large country house owners, but I would certainly not consider it dislodgement to get out of my chair to pull on the servants’ bell. If you invite me, I shall gladly do it for you. And speaking of pulling. I mean can’t you pull yourself off. You’ve got rather big and strong hands to masturbate with. I’ll watch you if you like. I mean it’s just like milking a cow. But do not dear boy ejaculate on my floor. Where I think you’ve already done enough.’

‘Lois don’t you understand. That you are a beautiful and desirable woman. Are you oblivious to that. And this. Just look at it. Nearly twice the size of my normal erections. The mere presence of you exciting this extra length and breadth.’