Roald Dahl - My Uncle Oswald

“‘Yes,’ I said. ‘And in more ways than one, your Majesty.’

“‘Ha!’ he said. ‘I see you are a funny lady.’”

“Were you watching the time?” I said to Yasmin.

“You bet I was. I’ve forgotten exactly what he was saying when the moment arrived, but the interesting thing is that he froze right in the middle of a sentence just as old Woresley had done in the lab. Here it comes, I told myself. Put on the boxing gloves.”

“Did he jump you?”

“No, he didn’t. Don’t forget Woresley had had a double dose.”

“Ah yes.”

“Anyway, he was standing in front of me when he froze and he was wearing tight trousers so I could see very clearly what was going on around there. At precisely that moment, I told him I collected the autographs of great men and asked him if he would give me his signature on palace notepaper. I got up and went to his desk myself and found the paper and told him where to sign. It was too easy. The wretched man hardly knew what he was doing. He signed and I put the paper in my purse and sat down again. You know, Oswald, you can make them do just about anything you want if you catch them right at the very moment when the powder first hits them. They’re so astonished and embarrassed by the suddenness of it all they’ll do absolutely anything. We’re never going to have any trouble getting their signatures. Anyway, I was back again on the sofa now and Alfonso was standing there goggling at me and he kept swallowing, which made his Adam’s apple jump up and down. Red in the face he was, too, and then he started taking deep breaths. ‘Come and sit down, your Majesty,’ I said, patting the place beside me. He came and sat down. The swallowing and the goggling and the fidgeting went on for about a minute and I could see this absolutely terrific letch building up inside him as the powder got to work. It was like steam building up in a boiler with nowhere to escape except through the safety valve. And the safety valve was little me. If he didn’t get little me he was going to explode. Suddenly he said in a choky and rather prim sort of voice, ‘I wish you to remove your clothes, madame.’

“‘Oh, sire!’ I cried, putting both hands on my breast. ‘What are you saying!’

“‘Take them off,’ he said, gulping.

“‘But then you will ravish me, your Majesty!’ I cried. “‘Please don’t keep me waiting,’ he said, gulping some more.

“‘If you ravish me, sire, I will become pregnant and our mutual friend will know something has happened between us. He will be so angry he will send warships to bombard your cities.’

“‘You must tell him it was he who got you pregnant. Come along now, I cannot wait!’

“‘He’ll know it wasn’t he, your Majesty, because he and I always take precautions.’

“‘Then take precautions now!’ he snapped. ‘And please do not argue with me, madame!’”

“You handled it beautifully,” I said to Yasmin. “So you put the thing on him.”

“No problem,” she said. “It was easy. With Woresley I had had the most awful fight, but this time it was as easy as putting a tea-cosy on a teapot.”

“Then what?”

“They’re pretty odd, these royals,” Yasmin said. “They know a few tricks we ordinary mortals have never heard of.”

“Such as what?”

“Well,” she said, “for one thing he doesn’t move. I suppose the theory is that kings don’t do any manual labour.”

“So he made you do all the work?”

“I wasn’t allowed to move either.”

“Now don’t be silly, Yasmin. You can’t have static copulation.”

“Kings can,” she said. “Wait till you hear this. You won’t believe it. You simply won’t believe this sort of thing could happen.”

“What sort of thing?” I said.

“I told you I had chosen a chaise longue covered in purple velvet,” Yasmin said.

“Yes.”

“Well, it turned out I’d picked exactly the right one. This damn sofa was some sort of specially constructed royal romping ground. It was the most fantastic experience I’ve ever had. It had something underneath it—God knows what, but it was some sort of an engine, and when the King pulled a lever the whole sofa began to joggle up and down.”

“You’re having me on.”

“I am not having you on!” she cried. “I couldn’t make that up even if I wanted to, and you jolly well know it.”

“You really mean there was an engine under the sofa? Did you see it?”

“Of course not. But I heard it all right. It made the most godawful grinding noise.”

“You mean a petrol engine?”

“No, it wasn’t a petrol engine.”

“What was it then?”

“Clockwork,” she said.

“ Clockwork ! It’s not possible! How did you know it was clockwork?”

“Because when it started to run down, he had to roll off and wind the thing up again with a handle.”

“I don’t believe a word of this,” I said. “What sort of a handle?”

“A big handle,” she said, “like the starting handle of a motor car, and when he was winding it up it went clickety-click . That’s how I knew it was clockwork. You always get that clicking noise when you wind up clockwork.”

“Jesus,” I said. “I still don’t believe it.”

“You don’t know much about kings,” Yasmin said. “Kings are different. They get very bored, therefore they are always trying to think up ways of amusing themselves. Look at that mad King of Bavaria who had a hole drilled in the middle of the seat of each chair around his diningroom table. And halfway through dinner, when all the guests were sitting there in their wonderful, expensive clothes, he would turn on a secret tap and jets of water would squirt up through the holes. Very powerful jets of cold water right up their backsides. Kings are crazy.”

“Go on with the clockwork sofa,” I said. “Was it amazing and terrific?”

Yasmin sipped her champagne and didn’t answer me at once.

“Did it have the maker’s name on it?” I said. “Where can I get one?”

“I wouldn’t get one,” she said.

“Why not?”

“It’s not worth it. It’s only a toy. It’s a toy for silly kings. It has a kind of shock value but that’s all. When it first started up I got the shock of my life. ‘Hey!’ I shouted. ‘What the hell’s going on?’

“‘Silence!’ the King said. ‘Talking is forbidden!’

“There was a loud whirring noise coming from underneath the damn sofa and the thing was vibrating most terribly. And at the same time it was jogging up and down. Honestly, Oswald, it was like riding a horse on the deck of a boat in a rough sea. Oh God, I thought, I’m going to be seasick. But I wasn’t and after he’d wound it up a second time I began to get the hang of it. You see, it was rather like riding a horse. You had to go along with it. You had to get the rhythm.”

“So you began to enjoy it?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But it does have its advantages. For one thing, you never get tired. It would be great for old people.”

“Alfonso’s only thirty—three.”

“Alfonso’s crazy,” Yasmin said. “Once when he was winding up the motor, he said, ‘I usually have a servant doing this.’ Christ, I thought, the silly sod really is crazy.”

“How did you get away?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Yasmin said. “You see, with him not having to do any work except winding the thing up now and again, he never got puffed. After about an hour, I’d had enough. ‘Switch off,’ I said. ‘I’ve had enough.’

“‘We go on till I give the order,’ he said.

“‘Don’t be like that,’ I said. ‘Come on, pack it in.’

“‘Nobody gives orders here except me,’ he said.