J. Donleavy - The Destinies of Darcy Dancer, Gentleman

‘O my goodness we are again once more back on this battleground.’

‘Only because of your slightingly unnecessary reference to me. Anyway, I don’t care about the chimneytop of Andromeda Park not touching your uncle’s chandeliers. I am equally as aristocratic as any.’

‘Ah my sweet, my potato digger. Do you even know what an aristocrat is.’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Well then what is an aristocrat.’

‘An aristocrat is one who drinks wine with dinner in a large dining room and is served by a butler and who plays billiards and into whose windows others not so distinguished want to look and see how they live.’

‘Good lord, how easy then it is to be one.’

‘Well there are also large paintings on the wall of his ancestors. And much carpeting and beautiful furniture throughout the house.’

‘You can buy them at many auctions.’

‘But then you cannot madam buy the proper accent with which such people speak in such surroundings. And they never shout angrily except at other equals and never at servants whom they do not beat or strike save only in the dire necessity of discipline.’

‘My sweet boy where have you been all these years.’

‘I have been right here living as a member of the gentry and I am fully aware of aristocratic behaviour. Not the least of which is that they associate only with the proper people.’

‘And who my sweet are they.’

‘They are listed in the appropriate volumes dealing with such matters in order that impostors may be readily shown to be just that. They know the correct thing to say at the proper time. Nor do they get things all arsy versy as the common people do. And they have a fondness for books and all the finer things. Like birds’ eggs or butterfly collecting. They also generate their own electricity. And they simply know that they are better than other people.’

‘Ha, eggs, butterflies, personal electricity, don’t sock the servants. Plenty stink of dead mice too. And they practise I suppose looking down their noses in the mirror in the morning. And up the arse in the evening.’

‘Well why not. And do be careful for just think of all the mouse water you have drunk out of the tap. And also just remember madam how Baptista insulted you. She was looking down her nose.’

‘And she, my little sweet is certainly not an aristocrat. But perhaps it is aristocratic to hunt to the hounds. Is it not.’

‘Yes. Of course it is. And to have one’s clothing made by the best tailors and boots by the best bootmakers and shotguns from the best gunsmiths. And your house should stand surrounded by ample parklands.’

‘Ah do they belch and fart.’

‘Upon occasion, yes.’

‘And they come out stinky peewewew.’

‘Upon occasion, yes.’

‘Ah I see now how quite simple it is to be an aristocrat. Do they pee in people’s parlours or on their front porches.’

‘You may madam go on and on like that if you like. But it simply does not in the least alter my description of a true aristocrat.’

‘What about their souls, my little darling.’

‘You do not need a soul if you are really an aristocrat.’

‘Ah that is the only thing you have said which is truly aristocratic.’

‘Well madam do you not also agree that they pursue a policy of being the richest, the mightiest. And upon whom all others look in envy.’

‘Of course yes. That is how they are haughty.’

‘And also you will agree that they will sometimes not answer questions put to them and will look in other directions until the person asking such questions of them has sheepishly retreated.’

‘O come, my god, enough. Let us continue the battle in the morning. And for now let us say you are the most arsy versy randy little aristocrat there is.’

Miss von B kissing me on the brow and sat there holding my hand till I went most contentedly to sleep. Waking momentarily in darkness to hear the friendly little scratching of my mouse devouring his crumbs. By the moonlight the branches of the trees all white. Frost settling on the grass. All is so blissful to be so deeply in love. To want hands you want to touch you to touch. With words said you know you both will say. And lips and eyes and all their colours there swirling in the mists of the new wonders that come in every embrace. And of course Miss von B did see me peeing off the front steps one evening.

Black as I woke. To lie thinking. Of the chilly morning. So warm in under the covers. And now standing aristocratically peeing into my suitably emblazoned chamber pot, a faint light was slowly pinkly brightening in the window. The wind risen and long patches of blue between the sky’s clouds gliding from the west. Where Uncle Willie said the great Atlantic ocean made them the grey they were. I rang for Crooks. And miraculously he was knocking with a tray of tea in a thrice.

‘Good morning Master Reginald. I trust you had a good night.’

One does not know quite at this early dawn how to aristocratically reply to what might in its casual statement hide quite saucy implications. But in the interests of not disturbing the recent pleasant tenor of household activities, best to reply in a like manner.

‘Thank you Crooks, yes. Indeed I had a splendid night. I feel quite chipper.’

‘That is good news. I’ll leave the tray here. And while the sun’s not up yet just let me stir the fire with a blow of the bellows and I’ll have a blaze out of these embers in a moment.’

‘Lay out my shooting clothes please, Crooks.’

‘You are not I hope intending to proceed to the outdoors Master Reginald.’

‘I am as a matter of fact proceeding to the outdoors, Crooks.’

‘The doctor will not like the sound of that. He said you came through that pneumonia hanging by a thread of life.’

‘Ah but now Crooks can’t you see I hang by a string.’

‘Ah you may be that bit stronger but not fit for the rigours of shooting. Will I be drawing your bath Master Reginald.’

Another remark of which one must be wary. If good lord my every activity is monitored. And my most marvellous bath had the ruddy household fighting each other at the keyhole to behold the doings beyond the door.

‘No not this morning Crooks, had one last night.’

‘Ah well it was a good long deep one you must have had too. Reading my bible I could hear the drain gurgling.’

‘I beg your pardon Crooks.’

‘There’s not much Master Reginald that one misses in a house like this. Human it is. You learn to know its groans. You can hear it sigh. Hear it weep. You would even know if it ever erupted in ecstasy.’

‘I do hope Crooks that you are referring only to the house’s structural proclivities and not those of its human inhabitants.’

‘Ah isn’t one thing nearly the same as the other. I often recall to mind the evening I heard Her Royal Highness our housekeeper, singing there in the ballroom. The marvel of that voice nearly made the whole building throb with life.’

One did not relish prodding further into Crooks’s musical appreciation or concerning from where he was spying on that particular evening or indeed the wide all encompassing custodial chores he would appear to have taken on. But quite pleasant to hear aristocratic reference being made to a member of one’s household staff. Miss von B did however, more than once hint of her suspicion that Crooks was spying upon her undressing which I’m sure accounts for his improved good relations with her. And not surprising when Crooks knows that Foxy and I nearly broke our necks doing it. And certainly how could it much matter now when the poor old fossil has already once seen her stark raving nude.

‘Have you any special desires for supper or shall I refer myself to Her Royal Highness.’