Leila

by J. P. Donleavy

  ‘I’ll get him Madam for you.’

  Darcy Dancer taking a broom. Shoving it under the bed. The rat scurrying out. Lois screaming. The rat running along the baseboard. Darcy Dancer grabbing an empty wine bottle and flinging it. The bottle missing and smashing on the wall.

  ‘Good lord, don’t. Don’t. You’re breaking up my studio.’

  ‘Well Madam, you want me to kill it, don’t you.’

  ‘Yes I do.’

  ‘Well then you must be prepared for a little mayhem. Rats are deucedly clever and almost impossible to corner and kill.’

  ‘But does that require for you to wreak absolute havoc.’

  ‘Well a little havoc at least. You would not enjoy for it to bite you in bed.’

  Darcy Dancer grabbing another bottle. Rat scurrying out from behind paintings and heading across the open floor. Lois screaming and jumping on the table. Darcy Dancer unleashing his missile. End over end. Bouncing as it glances off the stove. And flies across the room smashing into the bookcase. Knocking over a little group of ceramic figures standing between books on the shelves.

  ‘O god, o god, you Irish. No matter what you do, you somehow always manage to be destructive don’t you.’

  ‘Damn it Madam, do please try to control your ethnic slurs when I am in fact doing my damnedest best to kill a bloody rat here for you.’

  ‘Well I would appreciate at least if you would leave me a place to live in afterwards.’

  ‘Well, you go kill him then. He’s right behind your painting pallet leaning there.’

  ‘I shall attempt to do no such thing. I am mortally terrified of rats. Here’s your cocoa.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘O dear. My trials. My tribulations. Now I shan’t sleep a wink the entire night. When indeed tomorrow I shall need to be at my most productive.’

  ‘Well the rat should cause no difficulty, if you treat him as you did one of your cats and feed him properly.’

  ‘I’ll do no such thing. He must be got rid of.’

  ‘Why Madam.’

  ‘Why. I’ll tell you why. To conserve my creative energy. I’ll have you know I am in the middle of my blue spheroid period if you must know. And also have an important commission to undertake. You see, occasionally some fortune does at least show promise of soon coming into my life.’

  ‘Well I’m delighted. What is it.’

  ‘I shan’t say who, as the matter is only exploratory at this stage. But I have been offered, by someone who can afford, one rather large portrait commission. And if it in fact happens I shall be at least temporarily quite well off. And I always find those things one talks about too much have the habit of not happening. O god, there’s the rat again.’

  ‘Madam for god’s sake don’t bloody panic like that.’

  Darcy Dancer spilling the hot cocoa on his fist jumping to his feet. The rat running in behind canvases propped against the wall. Darcy Dancer grabbing the broom. Hot on its heels. Lois shrieking as her canvases overturn. And O god I feel something soft underfoot. A long tube. With its distinctly wrong end splitting open. Flake white it says on the label. Jetting out a long wiggling fat worm of paint. And whoops. The cap’s off this, alizarine crimson. And O shit, burnt sienna too. And cobalt bloody blue, squeezed out everywhere under my feet.

  ‘Stop. Stop. For god’s sake stop. You’re ruining me. You’re stepping on top of my paint, squeezing out all my tubes.’

  ‘Damn it Madam, why do you leave them here on the floor where they can’t be seen.’

  ‘Stop. Stand still. Now you’re trampling it all over. O my god, you’ve got it on to my Afghan rug. The only precious thing I possess in the world. On my very good only single heirloom. Which lay in front of my father’s desk at the Admiralty and upon which some of England’s most distinguished feet have stood. I’m ruined.’

  ‘Do shut up Madam. Don’t be so obtuse. Please.’

  ‘Obtuse. Whomever do you think you’re speaking to, you little upstart. I could outwit you in any endeavour you care to mention.’

  ‘Except killing rats of course.’

  ‘How utterly pretentious. You haven’t, have you, changed. Assuming superiority. O god, the rat. There he is. Peering at me. He’s stalking me.’

  ‘Just stay where you are and don’t move.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Rats can jump at your throat.’

  ‘O god do something. But don’t have the paint go everywhere.’

  ‘I’ve got paint all over my shoes.’

  ‘Well dear stupid boy take them off.’

  ‘O christ. Now I’ve got bloody paint all over my socks.’

  ‘You fool you fool, take them off.’

  ‘O shit now I have paint all over my feet.’

  ‘O god. O dear god. Hit the rat, hit him, he’s crouched going to jump at me.’

  ‘This should put paid to him. Soon as I take aim.’

  ‘O my god don’t throw my very last full tube of flake white at him when you’ve already squeezed out the others. Do you know how much a tube costs. Do you.’

  ‘But I hit him. Did you see that. I bloody well sent that footling rat for six.’

  ‘Yes. And now he’s right back under this bed. O god, this is worse than being bombed in Bloomsbury by the bloody Germans.’

  ‘Watch it, Lois he’s after you. There he is again. The rat.’

  ‘O god, god for heaven’s sake do something. I think he’s growling and snarling at me. This is absolutely the most wretched night of my absolutely entire life. And you’re back on my Afghan rug again. Get off.’

  ‘Blithering hell, I could have clonked him one just then if you’d only calm down and let me.’

  ‘I was to hang that as a backdrop for my large commission which I haven’t even got yet. O how wretched. O how I cruel. I shall just lie here now in a heap and die. Please go home. Go away. At least a rat will not destroy my entire professional life.’

  ‘Certainly, Madam if you feel that way.’

  ‘No rat however awful can be as hideously horrifying as what you have wrought upon my future as an artist.’

  ‘Well damn you Madam as an artist. I was trying to save you as a human being. From possible bubonic plague. I will of course leave you with the rat, since you prefer.’

  Lois, legs in Wellington boots hanging over the edge of her bed. Hands up clutched covering her face, as she lies crumpled in a heap. Church bell ringing the half hour. A shudder of wind across the skylight. And a moan down the stove chimney.

  ‘O god. Blackmail. Sheer absolute cruel blackmail. Ruin me. Run off. Leave me. Go ahead. After making you cocoa with the milk I intended for breakfast. After I’ve put turf in my stove to be hospitable. And opened up my chimney flue. You cruel wretched creature. I might have known.’

  ‘Madam I think you’re absolutely nuts.’

  ‘Nuts am I. Nuts. You call me nuts. I am not nuts. I have never been nuts. That’s one of those stupid American expressions.’

  ‘Clearly you know what it means.’

  ‘Of course I know what it stupidly well means.’

  ‘Well do you or don’t you want me to go. I am perfectly content not to go on attempting to kill your rat. And of course I shall see to your carpet being cleaned.’

  ‘Cleaned. Are you mad. Absolutely raving mad. How. Do you expect me to entrust a precious heirloom to an Irish cleaner’s. Where I’ve already had my one and only tweed suit washed and boiled by imbeciles and given back to me to wear. Shrunken so dreadfully that it is fit only for a midget or to use as rags to wipe my brushes. Cleaned. My god.’

  ‘Madam, I sigh. My socks and shoes of course are also discoloured. Honestly I simply don’t know what to do. Or suggest. Aside from hoping that you would accede to painting my portrait on my horse and in hunting clothes and that this might be considered as some form of tiny restitution.’

  ‘Well, at least at last you’re thinking in the right direction.’

  ‘Shall we agree then. To a full portra
it. On my horse.’

  ‘Of course a canvas that size must be specially made and is frightfully expensive. And indeed to include your horse. Not to mention the amount of paint required.’

  ‘I assure you Madam.’

  ‘Please do stop calling me Madam. Surely you can accept that we are familiar enough now for Christian names.’

  ‘Lois, I assure you money is no object.’

  ‘Well, you’re showing promise as patron. My other commission permitting, I shall try to fit you in.’

  ‘Thank you. I am so grateful. And of course one hopes you will do it while I am in residence at Andromeda Park. One will put at your disposal the necessary room or rooms in which to paint. Ah the rat seems quiet. Now do you think Lois we might please, retire together to bed.’

  ‘It doesn’t take you long to change from your role as patron. Does it.’

  ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘I’m not some sort of nymphomaniac. I’ve already said four times. I’m celibate. Why prey on me. Why not find some pure little innocent girl your own age. Although she may not suck your cock, you might terminate her virginity for her. I can’t believe you’re now inviting yourself into my bed.’

  ‘Well I don’t see any other beds in the room.’

  ‘Ha ha, that is awfully funny.’

  ‘Well one is rather tired. And it would keep you protected. Rats are vicious creatures. Especially ones as large as that.’

  ‘This is utter blackmail. Is your commission blackmail too. You do this to me. Are you desperate.’

  ‘Well yes I’m equally as desperate as perhaps you hopefully might be.’

  ‘Don’t you dare call me desperate. And don’t start removing your clothes. You are the most exasperatingly presumptuous young man aren’t you. I certainly think you are. And as bourgeois as it may sound, you’re clearly exhibiting the result of a long lack of proper parental influence and control. One hates to bring up personalities but I had heard your father did seem to desert you.’

  ‘What he did do Madam, was to sell off cattle, land and go off with certain valuable furnishings, not his property, and set up with a mistress here in Dublin.’

  ‘You did though didn’t you have the care and counsel of that goose stepping phony Austrian nazi Princess Miss von B who it appears is again about town.’

  ‘That remark I think is highly uncalled for. She was a brilliant housekeeper and is a genuine aristocrat.’

  ‘Yes who gave you genuine love bites if I remember correctly. Yet you do seem to remain so naïvely innocent.’

  ‘Exactly why Madam, your company helps acquaint me with the ways of the world. Perhaps as a philistine imperialist member of the squirarchy, you can help cultivate in me a true artistic spirit.’

  ‘I doubt it very much. But you do, don’t you possess the most astonishing nerve. Taking off your clothes like this. And waving that in my face in that manner. I still think your face is so Flemish. And you are callous, don’t you know how hard it is for me to resist wanting your very well endowed cock inside me. Don’t you. Making me face temptation like this. And how difficult it makes it for me.’

  ‘Madam you think it’s difficult for you. You’re not the only one. Country gentlemen suffer. I’ve had months of celibacy too. When before one’s very eyes one’s very own bulls and stallions not to mention roosters, are, to put it in the vulgar vernacular, freely fucking my heifers, fillies and hens.’

  ‘What. How could celibacy be a hardship. In your thousands of acres. Snap your fingers for breakfast, just summon, and tea served you. Butler, cook, maids. Suffer. I’ll go suffer there. Quite gladly.’

  ‘It’s not quite a snap of the fingers, Lois. It’s a pull on the servants’ bell and often one has to dislodge to rise from one’s chair to do it.’

  ‘O dear, poor you. My family were never quite large country house owners, but I would certainly not consider it dislodgement to get out of my chair to pull on the servants’ bell. If you invite me, I shall gladly do it for you. And speaking of pulling. I mean can’t you pull yourself off. You’ve got rather big and strong hands to masturbate with. I’ll watch you if you like. I mean it’s just like milking a cow. But do not dear boy ejaculate on my floor. Where I think you’ve already done enough.’

  ‘Lois don’t you understand. That you are a beautiful and desirable woman. Are you oblivious to that. And this. Just look at it. Nearly twice the size of my normal erections. The mere presence of you exciting this extra length and breadth.’

  ‘Dear boy. Did anyone ever tell you, you should be an actor. You do give quite an incredible performance. Are you in fact larger than usual. You wouldn’t be pulling my leg would you. And you are, I must confess, so well endowed. Do pull your foreskin further back. Pity I don’t have my gouache and brushes to hand. One could capture the marvellous cone shape the end of your cock has. My American patron I’m sure would be enthralled.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that be what is commonly referred to as a dirty picture.’

  ‘Dear boy, I’ll have you know I have never compromised my artistic integrity. And I am in no way being pornographic or obscene. But I do have this awfully uncomfortable sneaking suspicion, that behind your affected innocence, you are laughing at me. Are you.’

  ‘No no Madam, sincerely I am not.’

  ‘O god. I am defeated. Get into bed, will you. And damn you anyway. I shall take off my clothes. But only on the understanding that it is for the sharing of our bodily warmth.’

  ‘But yes, of course. Heavens. One. Two. Three sweaters.’

  ‘Yes. And my long johns.’

  ‘You know Madam, I have always admired the stunningly beautiful breasts you have. They are the most exquisite I have ever seen. I mean they are astonishing.’

  ‘Don’t you dare ruin that remark by saying for my age.’

  ‘No no. For any age. Ageless.’

  ‘Well they are I suppose among my few prized possessions.’

  ‘Why are you smiling madam.’

  ‘Just recalling the last time you were here. And instead of making love, you had to hit that awful IRA man over the head with a hammer or something, clonked senseless while he was raping me.’

  ‘It was in fact with a big pole. That monster one over there as a matter of fact. And indeed Madam, you see, I have returned yet again. To save you from yet another rat.’

  ‘O god. Alright. Stop waving it in my face. You have, without intending a pun, made your point. You may. Get in bed.’

  ‘May I make love to you.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I shan’t get into bed. I shall instead say thank you so much for the cocoa, get dressed and say goodbye. To both you and the rat.’

  ‘O god. You are a spoilt brat. Blackmailing me. Alright. Yes you may make love to me. Now let me by to light a candle. I just hope to god it’s not the wrong time of the month. I am the most silly stupid creature on god’s earth. To chuck out the window as I am doing. All the accumulated precious months of my celibacy. Don’t you know that such conservation of the sexual emotion gives succour to the frisson necessary to create.’

  ‘O dear I had no idea, Lois, honestly.’

  ‘Self denial is the treasury from which one draws the golden thread of truth from one’s inner spirit. Is the world now to be denied the possibility of my producing some of my greatest work. And whose fault shall it be. Whose.’

  ‘O dear. Mine Madam. Utterly and solely mine. Please might I just squeeze in the bed. Move over please.’

  ‘Just so long as you understand the implications of what you are compelling me to do.’

  ‘I do. I so absolutely do understand. But can’t you immediately reimpose your sanction and catch up with your stored up celibacy when I entrain back to the country.’

  ‘Don’t you continue to be so damn smart, you.’

  ‘I’m really not. I mean it is after all, the fact of the matter is it not.’

  ‘No it’s not. And do you know what I think dear boy.’

  ‘W
hat do you think Lois.’

  ‘Someone should take you in hand. Before you become one of these horse racing playboys. I think you would selfishly say or selfishly do just about anything just to get what you want.’

  ‘Well even as a racing enthusiast and modest horse breeder, there do exist some gentlemanly limits beyond which I’d consider it highly improper to go.’

  ‘O god I would like music and my gramophone is broken, and I can’t afford to have it shipped back to England to be fixed.’

  ‘Ah but Lois I shall play the solo part in a D minor symphony on top of you. Call it a horn concerto, if you like.’

  ‘You shall certainly not. I shall be on top if you don’t mind. You may be funny but you are also being extremely unromantic. And while you are exercising your gentlemanly inclinations also include a thought for when my arthritis prevents me from painting. I may need in the not too distant future, a small perhaps semi grace and favour residence. I certainly think you should have regard for the long term aspect of being a patron.’

  ‘Well there are unoccupied cottages. Indeed that I do have. Outlying perhaps. In need of renovation. I mean a new thatch and a patch and window pane or two. Could make one of them quite liveable.’

  ‘I see. Chuck me into some damp labourer’s hovel. Exactly what my arthritis needs.’

  ‘No no. It could be smartened up and prettified. My gardener is a marvellous hand at such things. I have a cemetery as well.’

  ‘You what.’

  ‘I mean it is ancient. And nearly full. But so attractive. Has a ninth century ruin of a church.’

  ‘I said I had arthritis. I did not say I was dying.’

  ‘No of course you didn’t, Lois. But we all must go sometime. And I suggest it only in the interests of providing you with a final resting place.’

  ‘Do you simply think that because I am older than you. That I am at death’s door. Is that what you think.’

  ‘No no. Not. Never. Nein, nao, nu, nyet, nie, nae, ne, nem.’

  ‘And what are you mumbling.’

  ‘I am just saying no in a few other languages. My tutor frequently set me various exercises in comparative linguistics. And the word no happens to be one I still remember.’