“And honey, a beautiful place to live.”
“Yes that’s true. And everything I wanted. That I would meet everyone or anyone I wanted to meet. That I would be at the center of the arts.”
“Holy cow the son of a bitch, he gave you that snow job. Wow.”
“That’s not a snow job. Are you attacking him. Because of what’s happened.”
“I’d never attack Al. I love him for Christ’s sake. That’s why I’m here. I really love him. He is. He’s one of the most wonderful people in the world. I’m the first to admit it. He’s saved my life a hundred times. And ruined it completely just once. But you. You’re a flower. Just blossomed.”
“Al’s been as good as a father to me.”
“He’s been a father to me too honey. But Jesus I don’t wrap up my life in his. He’s got hundreds of women. Real hustler types. Who just go along for the ride. That a nice quality girl like you is up here all lonely by yourself, just waiting for Al to croak, that’s crazy.”
“I’m not waiting for him to croak. That makes me really angry. You know Mr. Schultz.”
“Sigmund for Christ’s sake, call me.”
“Well at this point I think it had better be Mr. Schultz. You know I really don’t understand you. From the impression I get, you must dislike and perhaps even despise women.”
“What. Who told you that. Al.”
“Not in so many words. But one did get that overall impression. And here you are now trying to advise me, a female, of supposed harm I may come to at the hands of someone I’m deeply and terribly attached to.”
“Attached. So you admit you don’t love him.”
“Mr. Schultz. I hardly think this conversation is appropriate. How on earth did we get on to it.”
“You’re right. Christ. I’m I guess hysterical over any subject especially Al these days.”
“And how are things faring for you at the theatre.”
‘Tonight’s business tells all. It could be the end. Or the beginning. I’m just waiting. I’ll know about nine forty five.”
“Please. Why don’t you stay. And have dinner. It’s nearly ready. If you like garlic and mushrooms. And steak. Salad. And Al, I’m sure won’t mind if I open up one of his burgundys. You know how he absolutely adores wine. He’s got this Bonnes Mares which he absolutely insists is one of the great wines of the last thirty years. That’s another thing he’s taught me. Wines, I’ve learned so much from him.”
“We all learn from Al, honey and I’m listening like I’m hearing for the first time in life something I want to hear.”
“Then you’ll stay.”
“With the utmost pleasure. But Jesus don’t ever, whatever you do, ever tell Al, for Christ’s sake. I think his paranoia is already dangerously near the edge.”
“Mr. Schultz honestly. I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Al is no more paranoiac than anyone. And I’m free absolutely to do whatever I want, when I want and how I want. On Al’s insistence. Al has never once shown any sign of the slightest concern.”
“O no, you watch. Don’t kid yourself honey. We all admit for the hundredth time that Al’s completely wonderful, understanding, all those things. But that fucker is not above trying to drag something like you right into the grave with him.”
“I do think it’s time we really did change the subject. And I get you another drink. And I go get things off the stove to the table.”
“Let me help honey.”
“No. You just sit happily, I just hand things through the hatchway.”
At a long teak table. Set with sparkling glasses and looking out over all of London. The wine fragrant soft and delicate. The filet mignon tender and blood sweet rare. The garlic scented mushrooms aromatic. The salad crisp and fresh. Wholemeal bread, brie and camembert. A bowl of fresh sliced peaches, muffins and whipped cream. And an ancient crème de tête, whole god damn tarnished gold, ice chilled bottle of Al’s Chateau d’Yquem.
Schultz sitting staring down the table’s gleaming woodgrain. Candlelight sparkling on the glass and reflecting in the windows. This warm pleasant marvellous soul soothing creature. Jesus I keep wanting just to go down the other end of the table and touch her.
“My god honey, this is the best god damn meal I’ve had in centuries. So this is how Al privately lives.”
“You do have Al on the brain don’t you.”
“I have his Chateau d’Yquem on the brain, honey. Never in all my fucking life have I ever, ever tasted anything like this. It makes even Al’s Palm Beach Concerto sound good. And Al’s new toupee look good.”
“God you can be cruel, can’t you.”
“Hey I’m just joyously kidding. Honest. But Al, he’s going to have a fit. This bottle of Chateau d’Yquem is one of the best years of all time. Imagine the grapes ripened for this twelve years before I was even born. Momma meeo. You drinking it, is one thing. But Jesus, me drinking it. With you up here alone. Wow. That’s another.”
“O please, can’t we talk of something else.”
“I’m sorry honey I can’t get off the subject. But shit sure, fuck Al, and maybe I’ll try one of Al’s best Havana cigars. What the hell, like you said, you’re a free agent. What time is it. My god. I got to ring the theatre. Can you imagine. Here I am sitting here feeling so god damn wonderful that I completely forgot. For five minutes that is. O Jesus honey. This is the phone call. To end all phone calls. Christ I don’t know if I’ve even got the nerve, maybe I should leave it till tomorrow. But if I do that, I could never sleep a wink. Which I don’t do anyway.”
“Do it now.”
“You really think so. I should.”
“Yes. I do.”
“O.K. I’ll do it, just for you. I’ll do it. Spin the cylinder and put the gun right up to my head.”
Schultz taking a swig of d’Yquem. And sucking in air between his lips. Folding his napkin. Pushing back his chair. Crossing silently on the soft deep carpet and picking up the gold plated telephone.
“Mr. Schultz here.”
“Good evening, Mr. Schultz. I’m afraid it’s bad news.”
“O christ.”
“We’ve just completed tabulation. And are recheck ing. And it’s been so close.”
“How close.”
“Well, we’ll know exactly how close in just a minute. I’m really sorry. I really am. It deserved to keep the theatre. Tonight’s audience just loved it.”
“Thanks.”
The phone dropping out of Schultz’s fist. His knees buckling. A groaning great sigh as he reached out to put his hand supporting on the wall and began to stumble backwards. Louella rushing up from the table. Grabbing his arm by the elbow. Putting her hand up supporting his back as he collapsed slowly on the couch.
“Dear Mr. Schultz. You poor darling, you poor darling, are you alright. I’m so sorry it’s bad news. I really am.”
“I’m O.K. I’m O.K. You’d think after all these years I’d get used to it. But it gets harder and harder to take.”
“Let me get something cool for your head.”
Louella passing and reaching for the suspended phone, swinging back and forth hanging down from the table. Lifting it to put it back in its cradle sitting on the side of the polished work bench festooned with electronics. Louella holding up the telephone to her ear. A voice sound coming out.
“Mr. Schultz, Mr. Schultz, are you there. Are you there.”
“Yes he’s here.”
“Would you put him back on please.”
Schultz closing his eyes, shaking his head back and forth, and feebly waving his hand.
“I’m sorry but Mr. Schultz, can’t at this moment.”
“Well this is the Regent box office and would you tell him please that he made it. By exactly eighteen pounds, thirteen shillings.”