Into all
My throats
You bring
A load
Of love
To pour
15
It was entirely sad with Miss von B gone. Seeming like a whole lifetime ago, instead of this very morning. The feel of her breasts still on my chest. The sweet smells in under her hair. The warm cosy couch of her body. Making it so miserable to dislodge oneself from covers out into the cold. Legs still stiff from hunting. And Dingbats arriving to take away one’s tray.
‘Plus sir the gentleman Ronald had seven rashers, five cups of tea, six pieces of toast, sir, and quarter pound of the butter and nearly half the pot of marmalade and kept saying, will ye bring pucks now of everything so’s I won’t have to keep asking for more. And he was asking for more before he was finished any of it.’
While dressing, one could hear the wires pulled and clanking from my sisters’ rooms, ringing down to the kitchens for their breakfasts. And where one wonders are the eggs coming from. Since Catherine smashed so many sitting on them. And since Rashers may still be bellowing for more. Which Dingbats echoed as she left, making an unprecedented curtsey at the door.
‘Sir, an old nanny goat wouldn’t be safe from the teeth of him.’
Popping on my brown and most inconspicuous plus fours, one was not daring to even look down a hall or listen to a creak lest confronting Leila, who might then choose to tell me she had decided not to be at the boathouse. And I joined Rashers in the library for elevenses. Which he imbibed with as much relish as an Arab gobbling a goat. Nanny or otherwise. He had taken a turn about the gardens. And now, his tweeds as colourful as a vase full of wild flowers, he sits extremely comfortably, contentedly chuckling, and leafing through the more elderly volumes of Punch. But as one rattled off all the possibilities of the perpetrators of the silver theft, he seemed unconscionably sheepish and nervous.
‘Damned bloody strange nasty fearsome and unpleasant thing Kildare, that’s all I can say. But of course my dear chap, you did have a rather rum collection out here hunting you know. Of the lesser kind of the better people you might say.’
With one’s woe weighing hourly more heavily, one turned from Rashers sipping his coffee and chomping on oatmeal biscuits. Clearly and undubitably he was distinctly another mouth to feed. But before I reached the door he was bowing me out of the room and thanking me profusely for my continued hospitality.
‘You have no idea my dear boy how wretched life can be in Dublin when one is a little short of the readies. This sojourn really has, you know, set me back on my feet again. Such kindness shall not be forgotten. Neither by me nor my heirs. Do believe me when I say that. I know you are going to adore meeting my betrothed. Dinner soon dear boy. Jammet’s. My treat. Are you on.’
‘I should like very much Rashers to dine with you and your betrothed. But I couldn’t help concluding from his Lordship’s conversation last night that you, having borrowed from me, had not repatriated his fifty pounds.’
‘Ah. Ah. No indeed. You are quite absolutely and correctly right on that score as a matter of fact. Very astute of you to so observe. Very. But you see. Imagine. The expenses. My topper, tails extracted from pawn. And indeed I should like to have a night out with my dearest friends the day before the wedding.’
Suitably armed with walking stick one did set off for the stables forgiving Rashers further for his trespasses. And checking the horses, and then climbing the hill to the fields beyond the wood, I felt Rashers really did mean sincerely what he said in spite of his always contradicting it the next minute. Perhaps one should have taken him along to spy that damn stallion, or at least help me generally count cattle and attempt to cheer oneself with one’s only remaining disposable assets. How could so much silver be gone. And months before I can fatten some cattle. OI do so hope that the cold dreary days will quick dawn a blazing glory of blue skied spring. When the swallows and swifts can come soaring and perch chirping and the larks rise singing in the scent of a blossoming land. Never mind the thefts. One so needs encouragement against wind, sleet and rain. Which so secretly seep in and lurk in the labyrinths of one’s house. And cause some new rotting tribulation to quietly brew. And under Miss von B’s assault, one’s personal imperiousness does take a thwacking great thumping deflation. Watching her leave my bed, get dressed. That marvellous profile of her tit against the window light. And then brushing and combing her hair and setting so deliberately about her own life again. As if the pursuit of her daily business mattered so much more than me. As if, bloody hell, being manageress of the whole ground and basement floors of a Grafton Street shop was so important. When I could fit the place in one of my barns and have room left over to play soccer in. Dear me I should so love to pretend to be high powered. And damn it I am bloody sure I shall be. Soon enough.
Darcy Dancer walking back up the front lawn parkland. Shoes soaking up moisture through the grass. Despite all. There it still stands. Through the accumulated generations. And two black bikes parked so neatly against the front steps. By the staid sombre look of them, dear me, they belong to the Guards who have wasted no time in coming to question the staff.
Darcy Dancer crossing the hall to the east front parlour. The door just ajar. The sound of Rashers. And clearly entertaining guests it would appear. From this arrival on Crooks’ tray of a freshly opened whisky bottle.
‘Ah Master Reginald sir, all these years, polished all them spoons, forks and knives. Like they were pieces of myself. Gone. And we need not look for the scoundrel. A leopard never changes its spots. Sure I knew by the sight of Foxy Slattery in the hall. That we were in for trouble.’
From the previous glasses and the empty bottle of whisky in the library, one could tell there had been much and continuous imbibing. Rashers totally at home by the way he sits smiling, and not even bothering to announce me.
‘Ah my dear Darcy I’ve just been discussing fingerprinting with these good gentlemen of law enforcement, and other of the most up to date inventions in the detection of crime. In turn I’ve been treated to a lurid tale of rural murder. And I took the liberty of telling a tall tale or two myself about the underworld of Dublin. They were just departing.’
‘Ah sir, Mr Kildare, we’ve got the facts and we’ll have the culprit or culprits soon. Questioned the whole staff we have. As of this time we are keeping an open mind. But a suspicious character was reported seen struggling with two leather suitcases shortly after dawn and disappearing in a westerly direction. I’m sure under the mistaken misapprehension he was going east. For west he’ll get nothing but up to his oxters in bog. Just back over there beyond the orchard this silver spoon was found in the vicinity of the wall which we here produce to you for an accurate identification. Do you recognize any identifying marks.’