J. Donleavy - Schultz

“What do you suggest I should have Batters.”

“Large or small breakfast sir.”

“Large. With coffee.”

“Then may I suggest half a grapefruit, followed by all bran cereal specially milled for his Lordship. With perhaps a sliced banana. Poached eggs. From our farmyard hens. Sausages. I recommend them. Made from his Lordship’s own peach fattened pigs. And do try some of our heather honey from his Lordship’s bees on our own toasted wholemeal bread. Our Ayrshire butter and cream is also a real treat sir. And I suggest, to finish sir, fresh figs.”

“Hey hold it. What does his Lordship have for breakfast.”

“One cup of very black very hot coffee and two cigarettes sir.”

“Jesus when you got everything there is to eat. That’s what he has.”

“Yes sir. Mid morning sir, his Lordship may occasionally have a banana. And we do try to keep a constant supply of his Lordship’s perfectly ripe bananas.”

Breakfast brimming before him, Schultz watched this suddenly blue liveried servant light the log fire and depart beyond the green door. And sighing Schultz closing his eyes on this dream.

“Holy shit, I could, if I had the fucking sense, end my life right here and now, right after I’ve had breakfast, a good crap, a nice hot bath and threw a spine electrifying fuck into this Roxana wherever she is. Hey Roxana, you’re all I need where the fuck are you.”

“I’m here, sir.”

“Holy shit, you are. Gee honey you gave me a scare. I’m sorry for my language and what I was saying.”

“O that’s alright sir, upon occasion his Lordship when exasperated does use similar language.”

“He does, no kidding.”

“Yes sir.”

“Hey how did you get in my bathroom.”

“There is a secret servants’ entrance sir. I was tidying sir.”

“Jesus, so that’s what happens. I wondered. I dropped a towel and came back in ten minutes there was a new one.”

“Yes sir.”

“O god.”

“Is there something wrong sir.”

“No.”

“But sir, are you crying.”

“That’s right. For joy. Now get out of here honey before I start chasing you around the room.”

“O you wouldn’t do that sir you’re a gentleman.”

“I might be for a couple of more minutes but not after I’ve had this breakfast.”

In a stout motor with twelve forward and ten reverse gears, Schultz accompanied his Lordship around his domain. Up hillsides, down vales, rumbling across cattle grates, tearing across fields. Until his Lordship got marvellously stuck in a boggy patch and had a wonderful time shifting through the many gears and sending up spumes of spattering mud high into the sky as Schultz screamed.

“Hey shit your Lordship stop don’t do that you’re ruining the nice grass.”

Later by a pasture Schultz sat awed watching a calf being born. Its mother grunting and with a long groan squeezing her progeny plopping out steaming on the grass. The pink nosed little animal licked clean by its mother’s tongue and finally struggling to its feet nudging to find its mother’s teat.

“Holy shit look at the fucking thing. Dumped right out on its head. And here it is in two minutes walking and sucking a tit imagine that. When it takes us two years to learn to stand up.”

“Schultz I can see you have an enthusiasm for the country life. And unlike me you are made very calm by it.”

“Calm, Jesus I’m excited out of my fucking mind by the magic wonder of it all. What the hell are you wasting time fooling around with showbizz in London when you could be here all the time enjoying this.”

Schultz wide eyed toured the great walled gardens. With its cherry, apple, plum, pear and damson trees. The vast exotic conservatories and glasshouses. Sultry and full of vines, flowers and plants. Then walking through forests up hillsides where his Lordship had brief nervous words with his various foremen and nodded and smiled to the salutes from his endless staff.

“Holy christ your Lordship, I mean this place is a fucking major production. Not only could you be feeding armies but you must be making money.”

“Ah Schultz alas it is lack of that latter item you mention which makes what you see here slowly but surely creak towards a financial abyss. One merely waits for it all to tumble over the precipice into total ruination.”

“Let me tell you, boy if I had this set up I’d keep it going and I’d never go out my fucking front gate for the rest of my life.”

“But indeed Schultz for the rest of your life, you might instead then go out of your fucking mind.”

Binky had with two head shots killed two stags. And following an afternoon nap now appeared in the doorway facing the stone porch terrace. Smilingly resplendent in tweed jacket, cream cricket shirt, pink dotted mauve cravat, chamois gold buttoned waistcoat and bright green socks peeking between his grey flannel cuff and suede shoes.

“Jesus christ Binky that’s the only fucking word for you. Urbane. It really is.”

“Schultz you flatter me. And by the sentimental gleam in your eye I can tell that his Amazing Grace has recently told you some heart warming sentimental story about me. As I beseat myself, pull up my socks and pull my finger out. And appropriately here the two of you are. A contented picture. His Royal Grace’s acres stretching endlessly beyond to the horizon. Indeed Schultz, one might even think you more than just ordinarily handsome in such a setting. Even a man of some spiritual accomplishment. In the nature of which only a few selected Church of England neutered Archbishops may boast.”

“Binky I swear I’m completely dazed.”

“You Schultz, dazed. Rubbish. I don’t believe it.”

“At this exact moment I’m not even thinking of where my next piece of ass is coming from.”

“Ah Schultz, then you are benumbed and one must assume you are heartily enjoying our nearly last interlude of bachelor peace. Which I think his Amazing Grace especially needs. Did you know Schultz that up until the moment our dear host’s engagement was announced, that he was being annoyed, telephoned, besieged, invited, fawned over, and chased. By both mothers and their blushing daughters.”

“Binky you forget I always try to read his Lordship’s personal mail.”

“Ah of course you do Schultz. One forgets. Well then you know they pursue with an ardor which can only be described as manic. Thank god he has chosen a wife and removed himself from the hurly burly of the marriage market. Ending such nuisance pest and bother. Both of us will alas now take up serious family responsibilities. Till old age makes one’s weapon finally wither away. But in that context do allow me to refresh one’s carnal hopes a moment. My randy old grand uncle. Retired to a villa in the south of France. One four a.m. shouted out to the whole of his household to come quickly. To witness the old sport stark naked in the middle of his bedroom floor. Pointing with pride and delight at the age of ninety one to his erection trembling with a most remarkable rigidity.”

“Ah Binky you do encourage one to go on taking the steps in life. My god, join Schultz and I in getting tight on this most bowel stirring of Moselles.”

“Hey listen you guys. With all the debutantes after you what the hell are you always looking in the casting books for. From where I sit a Lord on the loose, is to women what catnip is to the cat.”

“Ah Schultz, good observation but I think I speak also for his Royal Grace when I say that it is most deflating that still you do not regard his Royal Grace and I as serious theatrical producers.”

“How could you be for Christ’s sake the way you live like this. Even when I’m up on top of some dame screwing the pubic hairs off her I’m all the time thinking of how much sets are going to cost or whether the costumes will be ready in time.”