‘And who shall I say sir.’
‘Say.’
‘Yes the name sir. To announce you sir.’
‘You are not announcing me.’
‘I’m sorry but have you an invitation sir.’
‘I have not an invitation. And do please get out of my way.’
‘Sir I must please have your name sir.’
‘The name is Reginald Darcy Thormond Dancer Kildare. And this is my ruddy bloody house.’
The Garda did leap to my aid. And Crooks one spotted. Looking astonishingly regal, but something like a dissatisfied host among all these myriad strangers. As his eyes surveyed in their three different directions.
‘Ah Master Reginald. What an utter relief to see you. Imagine a hired commissionaire. A bloody Brit, forgive the expression. From bloody England. With them false epaulettes. Ersatz is the word. After all the years of me faithful service. I am disgusted.’
‘Please calm down Crooks and tell me what on earth is going on.’
‘It’s the ball sir.’
‘What bloody ball.’
‘I respectfully submit the ladies, Christabel and Lavinia, your sisters sir. The cream of the land have been invited but by the look of it already, it will be an assemblage of gatecrashers and interlopers before the night’s done.’
‘Good heavens Crooks what’s that music.’
‘The orchestra sir.’
‘That’s Haydn’s symphony number forty in F major.’
‘Well master Reginald it could be his fiftieth for all I know. They have even got the old organ opened up from in behind the wall in the ballroom. And the pipes hooting with that lad down in the basement, pumping the bellows for the pressure.’
‘Damn thing’s out of tune.’
‘Exactly what I was thinking sir.’
‘And what lad.’
‘Ah a lad that’s been living rough down the cellars for months sir. Caught him when you were gone. He’d do polishing a boot here and there now and again. Train him up, I will.’
Chandeliers lit. On every console table, candelabra that had not seen the light of day for many a year. Damask white, the tables. Crystal. Tureens. The great punch bowl. The old lead lined caskets full of ice and bottles of champagne. Strangers everywhere. Except for the hunt secretary with his brimful glass. My god I am about to be eaten, drunk and waltzed out of house and home. And into utter destitution.
‘This is a mighty damn good show Kildare. Nice to see the right sort all back together again. And see the old place looking its best. Didn’t I see you up in Dublin, having a chat with Baptista.’
‘I’m sure you’re mistaken. Excuse me. I must, as you can see, dress.’
Out of the rapidly increasing din of voices, candle smell and smoke, to mount the stairs. Past Dingbats coming down. One arm bandaged. Beads of sweat uncharacteristically on her brow. As she is actually going right by me without a sign of recognition.
‘I say Mollie.’
‘O god. It’s you sir. Forgive me.’
‘Where’s the fire.’
‘If I may say so sir, in every bedroom. In the sitting rooms. In the bathrooms. And I am kilt with the running back and forth. Tis good to see you back. This place has never seen the like. With old Pete and Willie dead as well. I am just after hearing that the boiler for the hot water is blown up in the kitchen. And I am to get the other boiler going. And I have been this very night again assaulted. Interfering up me, by him, Crooks.’
‘Ah Mollie, my dear. Well, so nice to be reminded so soon that by the sound of things, one is home.’
Old Pete and Willie, one’s ancient retired pair of tack room habitués. Sitting puffing on their pipes. Like old pieces of furniture in one’s life, always there. Now gone. And clearly one of my sisters was taking her final step to displace me out of my mother’s apartments. A new wardrobe shoved into the dressing room. Peach silk sheets emblazoned with coronets on the bed. And following my cold bath, shivering in front of my fire in my dressing gown, Sexton arriving at the door. In his Sunday best.
‘Master Darcy, welcome home, I’m glad you’re back. Ah god they come at us, the guests, s’il vous plait like a thousand horsemen. A line of them nearly now down to the front gates. And a bit of sad news. Pete and Willie sir, both have had it. Happened in the orchard. Wasn’t I watching Pete in a beam of sunshine him taking relief of his bladder against the wall. On one of my prize roses. And he keeled over. Sure I knew it wasn’t an act by the way he fell. I rushed to him. And old Willie came in the gate. And as soon as I said to him. Pete’s gone. He’s gone Willie. Says I. I turn then. At the thump beside me. Willie too. Fell. In his tracks. Stone dead when I put my hand to him.’
‘Have we coffins.’
‘There’s one spare alright. Over in the old mill house. Gave it a few last belts of the hammer. And both boxes are ready to rest comfortably their mortal contents. Wake the corpses tonight each in his cottage. Neither of them have kin. Ah all they had, the pair of them. Was each other. And another little piece of poor news now as well. The garden wall, forty yards of it, all twelve feet high fell like the slap of a hand out into the meadow.’
‘O god Sexton. Poor news. That’s disastrous news.’
‘Ah but now sir, with the good advices of the Professor Botanist of Trinity College Dublin, a plan is drawn for the expansion of the conservatory, and the new gardens, the greatest ever seen on this island.’
‘Sexton, for god’s sake, I know this is all meant well, but I am, I fear, aided and abetted by what is happening in this house this very night, about to have to dismiss all of you save those who still stay on and go bankrupt into starvation with me. We are in short all finished.’
‘Now how do you figure that now sir.’
‘Am I to put it more succinctly than that, Sexton. Would the word destitute help. My venture to Dublin produced nothing more than an expensive recovery of our silverware. And simply resulted in the further inclination in the steepness of the slope upon which I now find myself sliding at an ever increasing speed. I may hold out an impecunious week or two more.’
‘Now sir.’
‘No Sexton, there can be no argument. Even the agent is taking me to court. There’s not enough fodder for the cattle. And if there were, there’s no market for them anyway. No wages. I have exactly those few fivers you see there on that dresser left. And that is, I assure you Sexton, nothing to smile about.’
‘Ah now, in a minute, Master Darcy, in a minute. I can tell you something. If you’d like to continue with the roll call of misfortune.’
‘It’s simply too long.’
‘Well now I’ve examined my conscience Master Darcy. And the moment I think has arrived.’
‘What moment.’
‘Ah now, a particular moment. And we need go no further with this discussion. You’re to come with me in the morning. I can say no further than that. Other than you might bring a witness.’
‘Good lord Sexton, O jesus, not another blasted writ that someone is serving upon me or something.’
‘Hop not with anger now. Nothing of the kind. And I’ll forgive you your little slip of blasphemy in the meantime. We’ll meet in the morning. If it’s appropriate to you, I’ll knock at the library. Would before lunch do.’
‘O god Sexton, I don’t think I can sleep upon another bloody mystery.’