‘Yes I do. The Thormond crest. It is my spoon.’
‘Ah you might say now you were born with it in your mouth, would that be a fact.’
‘Yes possibly.’
‘Proof enough then of ownership. Well the blackguard won’t get far now, take it from me, I’m telling you. Not heading west he won’t. But bedad we’d best now get after him, he could sink the lot plus himself in a bog hole. Good day now to you sir. We’re about to be in a hurry about our serious business.’
Darcy Dancer ushering the Guards out into the hall, following in their wafting aromas of Irish whisky. The two giant gentlemen pausing and turning round craning their necks peering at paintings, pilasters and pendentives, not to mention the numerous chipped, cracked and broken objets d’art. And hard to know if, as connoisseurs, they are admiring the art or like most neighbouring farmers who have got a foot in the door, are thinking what a grand place to winter a hundred head of cattle.
‘Ah I’d venture to say it would be a thieves’ paradise here. But not your worry Mr Kildare. We’ll get the light fingers whoever he is. And we are not discounting the possibilities of a female being involved. As accessory before, during or by god even beyond the fact. Your friend, the interesting gentleman inside, has given us sufficient solid information to lead us to pursue a certain line of inquiry. And we hope it won’t be long now till your silver cutlery is slipping the peas and carrots, never mind the caviar, back in again between your guests’ lips. Crime detection these days is scientifically advanced. Sure I’ve heard tell of a theory now proving there is more room in a circle than in a square of the same area. And I’m not giving you statistics now. I’m giving you facts. As sure as Ireland is one nation, north and south.’
‘Well Guards, one might then say up the Republic. Sorry. Perhaps that should be up the whole Republic. Or even way up. In every geographical direction. And down too perhaps with crime. As well as in that general genealogical and geological direction.’
‘Ah now you’ve said it and as Aloysius Sexton, sir, your gardener out there with the Latin would say, it’s all a matter of them semantics.’
Darcy Dancer watching from the parlour window. Rashers at his shoulder. The Guards standing on the drive, brushing back their hair and putting on their caps. And mounting their cycles. Waving back at us as they unsteadily pedal over the gravel and knock off the edges of the grass verges as they weave and wobble away down the drive. They’ll be lucky to get to the front gates, never mind leap frogging across a treacherous bog.
‘Ah Darcy, my dear boy, what a pretty sight it is out there. That all of that is yours, as far as the eye can see. Cattle grazing among your ancient trees. Where you may take your spiritual ease without being disturbed by an interloper in the pursuit of your comfortable habits. And without some awful gurrier presuming upon one’s presence. As in the case of my regrettable condition, to be endured back in Dublin. You wouldn’t mind, would you my dear boy, if I just sort of catch my breath a day or two more before returning to town to face the flotsam and jetsam of human kind. Of course you know, disaster if it doesn’t at first finish you, always then, goads one on. To tempt it again to do to one its utter worst. And then, what is appalling, it always does.’
It was clear as one looked downwards, that Rashers had already made himself enough at home to commandeer a new and bigger pair of shoes. And I suppose if I told him he was no longer welcome, he would merely get up on his hind legs and sing a heart stopping aria. To reduce me to tears. And beg him not to go.
‘Rashers but of course you may. Do please stay.’
One’s sisters appeared for lunch. Arriving in the library in tweeds and wrapped up with silk scarves at the throat. And very much sniffling, coughing and blowing their noses when they weren’t very much daintily sipping at their sherries. Cross examining me for the umpteenth time on the Marquis. His ancestry, his entitlements, his ablution rooms, his horses, and the number of acres they grazed upon. Christabel especially. And very much pretending to be off hand.
‘His father, the Duke has rather a lot of English and foreign estates, hasn’t he.’
Rashers wearing his most pleased grin exaggerating to the ladies about something he knew naught about. Volunteering to describe the Duke’s chateaux in France and ranches in Canada. Crooks, as he came and went, being very hangdog subdued. My sisters, so expert at it, ignoring him as he served them. And returning from the water closet I came upon him, just outside the door in the hall, his head hanging forward one hand pressed up against the wall. Putting a nicely etched handprint thereon and obviously making a remark meant for me to overhear.
‘To spare you a bit of attention for merely a moment, a man has to go hang himself before they’d know you’d exist at all in this house.’
Throughout lunch, Dingbats, blatantly staring at me from the sideboard, did manage to put one off one’s feed. And despite the fact that Foxy’s brother was wrestling with her in the hay, the rumour was going round reported to Sexton by Crooks, that she was planning to marry me. And obviously now had no time for the lovesick male staff who were moaning, I love thee Mollie, up the servants’ stairwell. Must say her reastiness and fustiness which one found previously stimulating is, in the warmth of the blazing fire, reaching a most disagreeable pitch. As she leans in close, serving the cabbage, her armpit yawning near one’s nose. And she has Lavinia and Christabel wincing in their turn. But one does admit it, that one did, more than betimes want to let her have it deep in the bifurcation. And now dear me wouldn’t you know, there’s Crooks, in the hall doorway. Good god. His fly is open. The big black buttons undone. And revealing not only a pink satiny fabric but the most particular darker pink part of his private as well.
‘Sir, coffee is in the library whenever you are.’
There was a small gasp from Kitty and she nearly did drop the seconds plate of mutton for Rashers but thank god no one else turned to notice. And one was much relieved to take a change of air in another room. While Lavinia was getting some ancient horse scrapbooks out for Rashers, I managed behind Christabel’s back to indicate to Crooks’ crossed eyes the need to attend to his dress. But then when casting his eyes downwards, and in the panicked effort to fish back in the exhibited portion of himself, he also managed quite promptly to spill the serving tray of coffee, sugar and cream straight over Christabel’s knees.
‘He did that deliberately, I know he did.’
Crooks rushed from the room. Penis back in his trousers, head in his hands. Rashers jumping up, thought it all just too damn funny, and was much prolonged collecting up the crystals of sugar and dabbing up the moisture absorbed in the area of Christabel’s thighs. When first they were all getting on so famously, how was one to know amid so many other domestic hostilities that such ill feeling had now developed between my sisters and the staff. Although one knew Leila refused even to be in the same room with them. Of course, when growing up, until I learned to bite them, they trounced me unmercifully. I later added a growl to my bite, which former often sufficed instead for having to sink my actual teeth into them. And a couple of roars from me would send them screaming running for their lives. They soon learned to stop tearing toys out of my hands, I can tell you. Of course I had to go and find Crooks, searching all over, down the cellars and parlours until finally finding him in the hall outside the ballroom doorway, crying beneath the portrait of my mother.