‘Excuse me sir, will you take a call from Mr Magillacurdy at the theatre who is on the line.’
‘Yeah Jorricks thanks. And Jorricks. I may have to take a train to Edinburgh. Hello.’
‘Ah me boyo. A great wife you have. She’s beautiful. Now that’s what I call great theatre. At the final curtain tonight in celebration I am going to cause another short circuit pissing into the footlights.’
‘Jesus christ almighty Terence. Please don’t. Leave the fucking footlights alone will you.’
‘But you have put us on the world stage me boyo.’
‘Terence please. Just bow and take your usual thunderous applause. And just by the way, Terence, before I speak to your agent, I hear you’ve signed up in another production.’
‘Ah you heard right.’
‘So you’re fucking well going to close me down.’
‘Never my dear boyo. I’ve wiped my arse silly with that contract, broken it over my knee, kicked it in the clauses, ripped out all the notwithstandings and wheretofores and chewed and shat out of me every word of it so as you wouldn’t ever, even if you were a mind reader, recognize one letter of the alphabet and they be capitals.’
‘OK Terence. You’ve convinced me.’
‘That contract me boyo is so fucking unenforceable that the substance left of it wouldn’t be recognizable enough even to flush down the loo.’
‘OK we’ll get it down in writing with your agent.’
‘You have me word me boyo. Never mind agents and writing. Terence Magillacurdy deserts no man with a wife like yours with her poise, her elegance, her bravery.’
‘Well thanks a bunch, Terence. But my fucking wife just ain’t only poise, elegance and bravery. She can be other things too. Like an enormous pain in the ass.’
‘Ah now what you need me boyo is a good Irish lass who is trained to be obedient with just an occasional fist in the gob and boot up the hole.’
‘You’re fucking right Terence.’
‘Now tell me, me boyo. We understand around the theatre here, not having seen you lately, that your goolies as we call them back in the old country, got in a bit of a pickle. Now the great magic cure for all afflictions of the testicles me boyo is take a peek at any bull in any meadow. You’ll see that he swings them side to side and lets the fresh air blow upon them freely. Ah but I’ve got to run now. The second act’s been called. Keep up the good publicity me boyo. Kiss your wife on the ass for me. And we’ll both be sitting on the Monarch’s knee. And remember I’ll continue to march hand in hand with you with our suitcases full of our bullion to the biggest banks in Switzerland. Up the Republic. And down with begrudgers.’
Schultz, thighs apart, a hand pulling himself upwards along the bannisters, slowly climbing the stairs to the third floor. Tiptoeing to the back pink bedroom suite. Pushing the door gently ajar. The curtains drawn on the window. The hall light casting a shadow across the floor. The mantelpiece with my twin daughters’ music box that the bridge jumper forgot to take away. Louella on the bed, a pink towel over her eyes. The patchwork quilt my mother made, drawn up to her chin. Jesus should I lie down beside her. And christ wake her up into another potential nightmare in her life and mine. Which I’ve already had in this room. Fighting for my own nude life with a nude erection wagging at a nearly nude wigless bald mother in law. When finally at last I at least have got the woman I love where I want her, trapped in this house. And wouldn’t you ironically know, with my prick hardening, it would have to be with the glare of world publicity outside trying to get in the chinks between every drawn curtain to blast our privacy to matzo crumbs.
‘Is that you Sigmund.’
‘Hey yeah honey, it’s me. How are you.’
‘I’ll be all right. Could you call me a taxi.’
‘Gee honey, why don’t you please stay here till you feel a little better.’
‘No I can’t.’
‘The Press honey. They’re bound to be out there still. Hiding behind garbage cans all night ready to jump out and take your picture.’
‘Do please Sigmund just call a taxi.’
‘OK honey. But let me go see if the coast’s clear.’
Schultz levering himself back down the stairs to the library. Dialling on the telephone. Silence at last in this house. At least I can leave the window curtains open on the back garden. Hey jesus. What’s that. Wow. She’s undressing in that window. Wow. This I got to watch. At least it’s a change of scene. Hey baby, you’re built. Would that everything was as pleasant to see out of the windows of this house.
‘Hi your Excellency, sorry to disturb you so late like this. This is Mr Schultz from across the street. I guess you noticed this evening’s little bit of action on our stoop.’
‘Ah yes, Mr Schultz I did so wonder what the difficulty was but of course I also watched you on the television.’
‘Gee Ambassador they really caught me at the wrong time. And as you saw I get no medal for diplomacy. But you at least know first hand how my wife behaves.’
‘Ah Mr Schultz, indeed. And such a stunningly charming woman too. But in any event diplomacy is so frequently a matter of being artfully undiplomatic. May I be of any help in any way.’
‘Gee as a matter of fact, maybe you can. Can you see from your side any reporters lurking over my side. I’m trying to get out of this house and I have a young lady here who needs to confidentially go with me without being identified.’
‘Ah my dear Mr Schultz, no problem. It is one we ourselves face frequently when our ladies are not in purdah. Leave it entirely in my hands and we will see to what extent we might avail you of our diplomatic immunity so to speak. At what time would you like to depart.’ ‘In an hour.’
‘I shall attend to the problem. How tall are you. And how tall is your lady friend.’
‘I’m six foot one. She’s five foot nine or so.’
‘In perhaps half an hour someone will knock fifteen times in series of five on your door. Let them in.’
‘Jesus thanks your Excellency. And jesus let me tell you, it really is nice to see you back again in action across the street again.’
‘I am most happy to be back and to see you in action too Mr Schultz. I brought a party to the theatre the other night and we all did so thoroughly enjoy it, so nice. And Mr Schultz you must come to our next little gathering. And we must soon have tea. And I am glad Islam has been able to come to your aid.’
‘Yeah. And for that thanks a bunch your Excellency.’
Schultz slowly putting down the phone, missing the cradle as he watches out across the back gardens. The woman in the window. Stark naked scratching under her bosoms and examining them in her mirror. Jesus fuck a duck. A little ample but what a fucking figure. I’ve never clapped eyes on her before. Maybe she’s the one who reported the fire, christ when she’s got her clothes back on some time I should thank her. But wow now she’s going with her nice ample ass into her bathroom to take a bath. Jesus why do I bother to go out and chase women when I have this kind of thing right across from me in my own back garden. Giving vicarious sexual pleasure with no lifelong pain to endure afterwards. Move to a back bedroom and I can watch her through binoculars while I’m resting in bed. Jesus better than that, why the fuck don’t I get her phone number. Chat to her while she’s undressing. Say hey honey here’s the guy you just saw on television news who’s looking at you with a hard on in the middle of all his troubles. Holy shit I better get the fuck out of here before I do something really stupid exactly like that next.
Schultz descending the stairs to the kitchen. Jorricks in his blue and black striped apron at the sink. Pigeons getting fat in a cage hanging from the ceiling. The television on in the corner. The array of servants’ bells up along the wall. Breakfast tray already laid for morning. Dishes gleaming, glasses in cabinets sparkling. Christ he keeps this place as neat as we did on ships in the Coast Guard.
‘Ah Mr Schultz, you startled me.’
‘Sorry Jorricks. Thought I’d keep exercis
ing my legs a bit instead of ringing down. And just in case I got to really start running one of these days. The Ambassador across the street thinks he might be able to help if I go try to catch the train.’
‘Very good sir. Your bags are already packed. I did find a few things for you to wear. And in anticipating your departure I was just preparing a little snack here for a hamper to accompany you. The temperature when you arrive in Edinburgh in the morning is expected to be two degrees of frost. A moderately strong east wind may bring snow. I have put in a heavy sweater.’
‘Jorricks I want to apologize for getting you into all this kind of limelight we’ve got into.’
‘No apologies needed sir. If I may be quite frank with you, sir, I in fact quite enjoy it as a challenge.’
‘Jorricks you would have made a good boatswain’s mate.’
‘Well sir, I did in fact make my sergeant’s stripes as a batman in the army. I do believe I hear knocking again at the front door.’
‘If it’s fifteen knocks it’s the Ambassador.’
Fifteen knocks and two enrobed masked ladies admitted by Jorricks. One shown up to Louella’s bedroom. The other accompanying Schultz to his. Fifteen minutes later four ladies in purdah, black skinned behind their masks, descending the stairs. Jorricks waiting open mouthed in the front hall. For the first time he is more than a little bit shattered out of his usual composure. And holy jesus christ I don’t even know which fucking one is Louella. And the only way you can tell me is I’m the tallest. Wow this descending procession is the most fucking electrifying sexiest thing I’ve ever been in and is a lot less painful for my balls when my prick jumps into steel hard action. And for the time being lets my testicles swing free in the shady breeze. My god look at Jorricks. If he doesn’t faint with surprise he’s sure fit to explode with laughter.
Four ladies in purdah emerging from the front door of number four Arabesque Street. Jorricks following with suitcases. The procession proceeding to Schultz’s parked limousine. Two reporters jumping out of a car with two photographers and rushing with notebooks and the flash bulbs going off.
‘Are you Mr Schultz’s butler escorting these ladies.’
‘No comment.’
‘Who are these ladies coming out of Mr Schultz’s house. You’re the butler you should know.’
‘No comment.’
‘Are these ladies part of Mr Schultz’s household. We saw two go in and now four are coming out. Would this be some of the inhuman treatment Mr Schultz’s wife claims she is subjected to.’
‘No comment.’
Jorricks ushering the four ladies in purdah into the back of the limousine. The shades drawn on the back and side windows as Jorricks drives away. A reporter and photographer attempting to flag down a taxi to follow as two more try to start their frozen car. The limousine disappearing westwards into Knightsbridge, down Sloane Street and across to the Carriage Road through Hyde Park. Curving up Park Lane, crossing in front of the Dorchester Hotel, its flags flying in its floodlights. If my old pal the concierge ever got a load of me now in here. He’d faint dead away. Jesus this has made my night, but hasn’t helped Louella’s migraine. All four of us are speechless. And christ is one of these ladies next to me pressing her thigh against mine. Or am I pressing mine against hers. Strange high and low pitched mumbles coming out from behind her mask. And one fucking thing is decided in my life. I’m going to apply to become a citizen of Zumzimzamgazi. His Excellency the Ambassador is one fucking genius. Not even my wife’s detectives sitting in a car suspected a thing, and the pair of buggers that I’m going to end up paying both looked fast asleep.
The limousine flying through Mayfair. Dropping off Louella in her purdah at tax dodgers’ towers. The two remaining enrobed ladies waiting in the car as Schultz offloads at the station. As he follows a porter away with his bags, Jorricks smilingly coming to attention and bowing.
‘Have a good trip madam.’
‘Thank you Jorricks.’
A black masked Schultz in his flowing vermilion and cinnamon coloured robes and dark head veils, walking quickly behind his porter under the great grimy girders. Locomotive engines throbbing and the smell of diesel smoke. Train carriage doors slamming. Jesus I’m only here just in the nick of time. Holy shit every fucking guy is turning around giving me the eye. My god one’s even following. At the rate I’m going I could make a living out of doing this. Jesus christ almighty there’s his Lordship standing on the platform. Only that I just couldn’t keep a straight voice and would sound like a broken victrola, I’d whisper going by that I was by appointment available to the aristocracy as a nice tall piece of black ass. And with this fucking greasepaint covering the tiny patches you can see of my face, and except for my sparkling blue eyes, I’m as black as the Ambassador. Jesus I have already done enough nutty things today that one more can only make me permanently nuts which might not be that bad if I can find a nice luxurious fortified institution. Then later I might recover. Even a crazy man has once in a while got to come back to his senses if he’s about to fall into a blazing fire. If I go up and whisper now to his Lordship the worst that can happen is that he faints dead away and will just be another casualty on this day of casualties.
‘Excusing me sir. You like I give you quickie nice piece of black ass for ten pound.’
‘I beg your pardon. I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch what you said, madam.’
‘You like. I give. Special pour vous. Piece black ass. Quickie on station. Very black black ass. Ten pound.’
‘Well I’m awfully sorry, thank you for your kind invitation, but I’m afraid I am madam about to jump upon the train.’
‘Me go on train too. Me give you quickie. Long time cost twenty pound.’
‘Well. I’m afraid I am expecting someone.’
‘On train long time zig zig I give for fifteen pound. Quickie I give now seven pound.’
‘Good god. It’s you Schultz.’
His Lordship suddenly doubling forward clutching his stomach, and putting one foot before the other to prevent himself pitching prone on his face, as he staggers in a circle around the platform grabbing against a pillar for support. His head shaking in a helpless spasm of laughter.
‘You do, you really do take the fucking cake, Schultz. O my god. O my god. And ah Schultz, as the Bishop said to the call girl, take off your lovely lace my dear and hold my amazing mace.’
‘Hey holy shit your Lordship, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.’ ‘O Schultz, I might have known. What on earth do you think you’re doing.’
‘Jesus it took you fucking long enough to recognize me.’
‘Only because of what you were selling. But no one could ever mistake the way you do business. And my god I hope you don’t plan to appear at Binky’s mother’s funeral looking like that.’
‘Holy shit I had you fooled you fucker. I nearly made ten pounds.’ ‘I was absolutely never even remotely considering the proposition. One does not, if one can avoid it, ever be rude to even such an unlawful suggestion no matter how bizarre, when such is presumed put to one by a lady.’
‘Don’t kid me your Lordship. You were flustered. I had you convinced.’
‘Well you certainly have me convinced of one thing Schultz. I had no idea you could pitch your voice so high. And looking like that you ought to go on the game.’
‘Hey you really think.’
‘Yes I do. Except for your very blue eyes, you could easily pass as a Sudanese transvestite.’
‘Well let me tell you, your Lordship, it would be nice for a change to be paid instead of paying.’
‘Ah yes Schultz. And as the call girl further said to the Bishop that will be two and sixpence to polish your mace your Grace.’
Schultz regarding himself and fluttering out the folds of his silk sari and executing a sudden whirl on his toes. The porter stepping down from the train behind him, pausing for his moment to elicit an emolument from the lady in purdah.
‘Excuse me madam, but your luggage
is awaiting you in your compartment XI4, third door left in the corridor.’
‘O yeah, hey thanks a lot. Just a second let me find a couple of quid.’ Schultz lifting his sari and reaching under. The porter’s eyes widening as he steps back, his mouth open aghast, at this bare hefty hairy leg exposed up to one knee.