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Authors: J. P. Donleavy

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BOOK: The Onion Eaters
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‘How many balls do you have. I’m going out of my mind down there counting.’

One

Two

Three

Cheek by jowl

Jaw by jest

It’s a trinity

By twixt

And christ

Manifest

The grass short and shrubs beaten into hiding behind mossy stones. The sea’s blue slow thundering swells creep in. And rise up on the cliffs and spread a ribbon of white foam. Met Toro. Who looked from his grazing the other side of the fence and gave me a red baleful eye. And shook a ring in his nose. Watched him chew and then bow his head down to a patch of clover again. Elmer went up to sniff. To leap back from a swift hook of Toro’s horn. Sunny and breezy out this morning. Nearly as if last night was not yet until tomorrow.

Clementine strolling along the headland. On a narrow path worn by the edge of the steep cliff. Grey rocks jutting out over the heaving water far below. Look back southeast, the castle turrets loom stacked up against the distant clouds. Percival said would he run up the standard now that I was in residence. I thought what the hell why not. And it flutters red green brown and gold. The upheld crimson hand looking particularly well against the sky. Take a little leap I think in the air. Clang my heels together chirpish and chipper.

Climbing up the stony hillside to the haunted black lake. Followed at a parallel distance by Clarence. Who’s got tired crouching and is now standing up sticking out over that rock as barefaced as he was born if that’s how he got here. This new day starts up the spirit’s engines again. Wave at Clarence. He does nothing. But stare. Send by semaphore the word ahoy. He turns and gallops away. As I dip my hand in this water and find it impenetrably black and deathly cold.

Clementine wandering through what Percival said was the lady’s garden. A sun dial sticking up out of a thicket of
nettles and briar. Through a cloistered passage and beyond an iron gate an orchard, thronged by grey thistle stalks and lichen covered branches wildly sticking in the sky. A great domed glass house out from the castle wall. Inside the shadows of tropical trees, palms and ferns. All locked in combat for space and life. And above, more castle
battlements,
tiny window slits behind which anything could be happening. When I crossed the landing over the great hall this morning, Erconwald was scurrying across the tiles in a white coat with a stethoscope hanging round his neck.
Giving
me shudders. And passing out the courtyard door I saw Tim with bulging bags from a laden cart slung over each shoulder heading for the kitchen entrance. I put my hands over my eyes. To cover up the sight of the expense. Suppose they only want to see me have plenty of everything. Then Percival peeking in at breakfast time asked if all was to my satisfaction. It took a moment to answer. As I could still feel the feel of Rose’s big pillowy body. And the reddened bruised grip of her teeth on my one eyed snake. She
departed
late dawn in a fit of coughing. Breasts shaking and nipples bouncing all over her chest. Great rumbles down in the lungs and one of her fits made me back away and trip over my pail of slop water promptly drenching my stockinged feet. While Elmer encouraged by the chaos chewed into the mattress and dug a hole with a pair of churning huge paws distributing clumps of wadding,
horsehair
and straw over the chamber. To make it look lived in. By a dog.

Moist breeze watering my eyes. Press a hand on the ground. Grass and tiny white sheltering little flowers. A bug goes by. Asked Percival this morning what on earth does one do with all these rooms. He said put them out of your mind, sir. Time enough to think of them if you need one. But watch where I’ve marked the lines. Tim and I weren’t we looking for the pig who’d do grand for
tomorrow’s
table and didn’t we think we had him cornered when we find the shape of him gone downwards through the timbers just up the two doors from her ladyship’s room. Ah sir we investigated below ‘and hadn’t he gone as well
clean through the old flower room by the conservatory, helping himself no doubt to the baby rats there, they be a great delicacy for pigs. And Ena now will sew back them stuffings into your bed and you won’t miss a wink of sleep. I thought one saw the nod of a smile from Percival. And speak of him and here he comes running.

‘Ah sir I’ve been looking everywhere for you. There’s a gentleman and his wife calling. They are from over there beyond. Neighbours as you might say. I said you were out for a stroll.’

I went back with Percival to the great hall. Where the two folks stood. A chunky, blood red haired man slapping a riding crop against his britches. And a tall willowy girl with long brown tresses, a hunting hat in hand knocking it against the side of her black gleaming boot.

‘I say I’m sorry old chap to barge in like this but my wife and I were passing, couldn’t help but see your flag flying.’

‘O.’

‘Jolly good. The old place has got some life again. See you’ve got your man hard at work there. That’s the way to shore up those old foundations. Dig down deep. Put it back in shape. This is Gail. I’m Jeffrey.’

‘How do you do. I’m Clayton Clementine.’

‘By God. Of The Three Glands. Would you believe it. Gail do you know who this man is. You are aren’t you, you’re flying the flag.’

‘What.’

‘In the male line, a descendant. Of that old boyo with the three grapes on his stem. By jove this calls for
celebration
. Your ancestors and my ancestors used to shove spears up each other’s arses. We were always out trying to cut the gems off a Clementine, what about that.’

‘I know little about the family history. As a matter of fact I’ve just moved in.’

‘Well by God we’ll knock glasses together and have some sport. Gail and I just cantered over the hill. I took up the binocs just to see if I could put a bit of a lead up the hole of one of these damn poachers. And there it was. Your flag.
What about that Gail. It’s written all over his face by God, the Clementines. Nothing for one of us Macfuggers to lop off the head of a Clementine seeing as that rogue of the three glands creamed us for centuries. But let bygones be bygones, what.’

‘Won’t you come in and have a drink.’

‘Suit us fine. I used to take tea here when I was a whipper snapper. Some old bird claimed a relationship to the Clementines, bloody rich tough old bitch.’

‘My grand aunt.’

‘O I’m most awfully sorry. You know how people are. By God they’d claim the honour of an uncle being booted up the hole by an earl. I don’t mean to belittle your aunt old boy. I say there Gail, look, that’s great uncle Bubbly, the whole ruddy hunt. Must be fifty years ago. I say you don’t mind my asking a personal question but where do you get all your staff. By God they leap out at you from everywhere. Some of them out of livery of course, but you’re just settling in. I saw your veterinary surgeon with his stethoscope at the ready, wish more of these chaps would wear the white coat. Keep up appearances. Too many letting the standards fall down around their soiled ruddy ankles. Had an accident old boy.’

‘Yes.’

‘Want to watch these old drapes. When I was engaged to Gail here and getting on the good side of the family to get my hands on some of their ruddy millions.’

‘Really Jeffrey.’

‘It’s the truth my dear girl. I didn’t have a pot to piss in. And I was at the end of a long reception line, bloody family going through their stuffy formalities. I thought I’d sit down on a chair behind me, roped off it was, well I put aside the rope and sat down, damn chair went to dust beneath me old boy, and I made a grab for a tapestry just behind to save myself from a broken arse. Ruddy big carpet went the whole length of the ballroom wall on a big brass rail. The entire works came down on Gail’s whole family in one antique explosion of dust, didn’t the tribe of them think the other was trying to kill them, buried as they were the
lot of them punching around in the dark, it made me sick with laughter.’

‘Really Jeffrey.’

‘Got old Gail here in the end worth a packet, aren’t you. I supply the lineage she supplies the mullah.’

‘What will you have to drink Mrs Macfugger.’

‘As a matter of fact old boy it’s Lady Macfugger.’

‘O.’

‘And my dear chap you’re a Prince, but we won’t stand on ceremony. Just call me Nails. My old army name. Got when I won a bet lying down on a bed of nails this ruddy wog was having up his backside. Got right down there in my
birthday
suit. Won a fiver. Gail will have a sherry, I’ll have a port.’

Percival giving a little nod of the head. Nails perusing among the books. As Gail stands her hands neatly folded over yellow gloves, a smile on her smooth wind tanned features. A gold pin and pearl in the silk white scarf at her throat and a sparkle in her light blue eyes. She lifts her chin and displays a delicate adam’s apple. Nails pulls down a book.

‘Many’s the time as a little chap I went searching in these damn tomes looking for smut. Got my nose into those geographical magazines, the tits on those blacks standing around their camp fires in flagrant ruddy nudity. Couldn’t wait to get out of sight of my nannie to have a good beat off.’

‘Please Jeffrey.’

‘Old Clementine here’s a man of the world. Isn’t that right.’

‘Well I think so.’

‘I should ruddy well hope so. We’re going to put some life back into this area. By the way, Gail why don’t you ask if we can have the hunt ball here in the Charnel. Great place in the past. What about it Clementine.’

‘Well I suppose so.’

‘That’s the boy, by jove that’ll be a night to remember. Arrive in the state coach over the mountain. By God we’d
get some wenches up in the towers in the old days and let them have it back sides and front. The old dungeons down there were packed solid with wickedness. Even Gail there got a little saucy, pranged her on the way home in the carriage over the back seat.’

‘Jeffrey.’

‘The horses pounding over the roads, two of us flung about the place, damned thrilling nuisance trying to keep it in, she hasn’t been as juicy as that since.’

‘I do think Jeffrey you’ve said quite adequate and if you don’t stop I shall put my foot down.’

‘Drawers down woman would be damn sight more
welcome.
Quite amusing I married her for her money and found out she was beautiful later. By God with prices of everything soaring a person can’t keep a decent household. Down to four gardeners, eight grooms. Sacked my game keeper ruddy chap tried to shoot me. Took the whip to him, put a few scalds across his arse he won’t forget. Whole countryside is crawling with rascals. But by the way just between us, couldn’t help seeing three of your men out there nosing around by the old boxwood maze, looked suspicious characters to me.’

‘Glad you said that Jeffrey I didn’t like the look of them either.’

‘They’re travellers who requested hospitality.’

‘That explains it, transients. Can’t be too careful you know. Want to let them have what for straight off, louts and chancers. Catch them shooting my pheasant, taking my salmon. I get out there at dawn with a hamper of breakfast. Blast hell out of them. Anguishing when you think that the time’s past when after some early morning sport the attics were full with a bevy of upstairs maids to prang.’

Percival with a tray of glasses and decanters of sherry and port as he soft foots it across the library floor streaked with sunshine. Hear a roar of Toro. Probably looking for a heifer. Lady Macfugger keeps glancing at one’s outfit especially at the tennis shoes. And then at my red
neckerchief
I wear for a little colour. Elmer comes strolling in
wagging his tail and nudging about with his big black nose in a rather delicate part of Lady Macfugger’s figure.

‘Jeffrey isn’t he sweet.’

‘By George he’s a monster, look at the pair of balls on him Gail, sticking out there like two avocados. He knows where to sniff.’

‘Why must you always notice things like that.’

‘Clementine’s going to think I’ve got a tight arsed wife.’

‘If you must know I am quite proud of my arse being tight. And I’m sure Mr Clementine has better things to occupy his mind.’

‘There you are, Clementine. I was on my uppers till I collared old Gail, tight arsed but with a loose half a million. But by God I’m not afraid of poverty. Take to the roads if I have to in a tinker’s caravan. Good healthy itinerant life. Plenty of wenching and gambling. I spotted the old girl at a cousin’s wedding. Standing beside her father, a big red nosed old bastard. I knew he was rotten with it, knew the drink would knock him off, and the whole fortune held in trust for Gail would tumble into my yawning coffers. Never missed the opportunity to nudge the old boy’s elbow to help along when he was knocking back a whiskey. All a man needs is a mare to plug and a few grazing beasts and spuds. This is excellent port. You must come and see us. Don’t stand on ceremony. In fact why not tonight. Bring your better half with you.’

‘I haven’t got one.’

‘What, no mare. I saw a piece of crumpet dancing across the parapet. Didn’t want to enquire after your wife in case she had some unresolved bats in the belfry. When they go off like that some chaps like to keep it quiet. Shove them into a spare dressing room with a doll’s house to play with. Bachelor eh. Bet that’s leading to some goings on. When you don’t have someone sneaking up on your bare backside with a pail of water and crashing the stuff over you when you’re busy up some fluff.’

‘You deserved every drop of it Jeffrey.’

‘What. You could have made me impotent, by God. Tossing a cold bucket of water on the arse like that. Put
me right off. By jove I had this little piece of carefree frippery with the neatest little arse you’ve ever seen, like two acorns, get hold of them like a ball bearings. Giving me the eye she was while peeling the spuds. I gave her pronto what for up the whose it right there in the boot closet. Little liar said it was her first time rogered. I clapped her one across the snout with the back of me hand. Soon had the truth. Every groom in the stable been up her. I mean to say a chap having to have a go after his grooms. Simply not on. Damn layabouts can’t get their minds off the subject. I went out there with the good book. I preached to them by jove. Put their filthy thoughts onto something uplifting. Carry on like that can put an estate into
bankruptcy.
A midget randy groom once got every girl in the household up the pole. I mean you can’t sack a girl but what are you going to do with seventeen little bastards bawling all over the place. But Clementine we’re keeping you from your chores. You shoot.’

BOOK: The Onion Eaters
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