The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B (31 page)

"My pearls."

"I'm
awfully sorry."

'They've gone all over the floor."

"I'll get them. I'll find them. I'm terribly sorry. Please don't upset yourself. I'm sure we'll find them all."

Balthazar B on his knees. Under the bed and dresser. Carefully picking up the whitish round little gems. Gathered into the palm of his hand. And a last two, way in under there. Take off my jacket and squeeze in, gathering plentysome dust on the cuffs and sleeves. Just one shirt gone and three to go.

Millicent sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hand brushing back her hair. Lifting her chin as she peered across into the mirror. I suppose I could tell her the funny little story of how Beefy goes racing round the streets, pushing open doors of painting galleries and screaming in, fakes. But instead I must to the bathroom go and button back together again one's double breasted coat. And take a timorous pee. Or tell her that Beefy said there are too many baronets mixed up with buggery these days.

"I do hope they're all accounted for Millicent. I'll put them in this envelope and take them to Asprey's first thing Monday to have them restrung. I am awfully sorry."

"They were my mother's."

"I am terribly sorry."

"Given to me on my twenty first."

"You are twenty three now, isn't that correct."

"Yes."

"Well what say we just. Fm sorry Fve forgotten what I was going to suggest. I think I'll just go down for a moment to get some cigarettes."

"I didn't know you smoked."

" I haven't much done so before. As a matter of fact. Ill only be a moment."

Balthazar descending to the lobby. Crossing into the cozy oak panelled bar. The news of weather coming from the radio. A complex depression centered over England and moving west. Clouds and some showers are expected. Further outlook, rain moving east will cover all parts of southern England. And will not save me from melancholy and raving madness. As one steps to ask for a double brandy please. My God when will I ever become a man of the world. And put a noisy dirty lady sitting perched high on me spinning like a top, with her red hair waving and her light coloured shoes flying off against the walls. Perhaps it may happen after I have purchased my first cigar.

"May I have one please, that long one there."

"They're three and eight a piece, sir."

"That's very pricy but still I think I'll have one."

Balthazar B taking a sip of brandy and lighting his cigar. A little wooden bird behind the bar dipping and dipping into a jar. So hard to sit alone with one's thoughts now. After busting the beads. And chasing them all over the floor. Dear God when I think of the body of her. When all it needed was just to remain calm and look where one's hands were going. Up behind the hair. Get a newspaper now. And then one shall return. With some current topic of conversation. And have another try.

Balthazar B walked out across the lobby from the bar. To turn to look into the smoking room. The raised voices and opening front door and someone coming in. They say with cigars one doesn't inhale. You just go around puffing and stinking. No newspapers in the smoking room. Make an enquiry. Just wait till these two folk are served. Standing there 3i8 at the reception desk. Yes, right there, they stand in something familiar like a dream one had once somewhere and you think you're having it all over again. Because those two people, right there, in front of the open registration book. They look like the father and the mother of Millicent. And Fll just pass on now over here and wait. To stop. And turn again and look. My God. That is the mother and father of Millicent.

Balthazar B stood frozen thinly on the red tiled floor in his grey double breasted pin stripe suit. A silk shirt tiny knotted at the collar by a black silk tie with a three legged emblem sprinkled on it like stars. Millicent's mother and father turning as one, as the landlady pointed her finger right at me. And I took a deep intake of cigar. The smoke filling out my jowls and stacked and packed down my throat. To all explode at once. And send me staggering forward in a fit of coughing as these three folk watched. And two of them caught their breath. And two of them began to approach.

Balthazar B looking out from uncontrollably rolling eyes, gasping and speechless. The tints and hues of Millicent's mother somewhere near. And for no accountable reason one thinks of that distasteful English habit of wetting the finger and putting it in one's companion's ear. As Millicent's mother now points with her own finger towards the smoking room. Which one can hardly see. But follow this way. Beefy always ran to elderly blind old age pensioners to lead them safely across the street and have a joke with them on the way. As I step quite sordidly across into a blaze of socially ostracised eternity. Beefy always warned. Of what the English so expertly do. Is to take one's composure utterly away. Mine is gone. Left with only my green colour changing to alabaster white.

"As Millicent's mother I am shocked more than I can say. In fact Stephen please, would you order me a whisky, double. No need to go into why we're here, the fact is we are. And have seen the register with our own eyes. I am absolutely aghast and surprised at you. Certainly one never expected someone to whom the hospitality of one's own house has been offered to stoop as low as this. One can only ask now have we come upon this too late."

"No no you haven't."

"Where may I ask is Millicent."

"She's upstairs."

"I see. Poor girl. Taken to a place like this. Of all things. A hotel on a river. Is there an explanation. Or are you taking this matter casually."

"No madam. I'm not."

"Why aren't you speaking up. Or do you suppose more subterfuge will help. As since when is Crescent Curve suddenly in Mayfair. Or is the truth that you have deliberately taken my daughter here with the intention of ravishing her."

"No no I didn't."

"You didn't. You didn't ravish her. Is that what you're saying. With my daughter up there in the same bedroom, registered as Mrs. Balthazar B. You haven't ravished her."

"I know that my redeemer liveth."

"You what."

"Fm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying."

"That's very apparent. As is also that you don't deny abducting my daughter."

"I haven't done anything. Her pearls fell on the floor."

"Her pearls. O my God. Stephen. Did you hear. She had to fight for her honour. O my God thank you, I need that whisky. Millicent had to fight. It came to that. Her pearls strewn everywhere in the struggle. I must go to her."

"No no, they just fell apart."

"Fell apart. As you used force. On my daughter."

"Your daughter is much stronger than I am."

"O my heavenly God. In just one moment I think I shall get completely hysterical. Stephen go please and close that door. This could lead to scandal. Front page of every paper in Europe. My daughter forced to submit."

"Please I only weigh ten stone two. And your daughter Millicent weighs ten stone four."

"As if her weight mattered. At a time like this. And what may I ask are your intentions."

"Well I suppose to leave. As soon as possible.' "Leave. You mean walk out. Just like that. Millicent was presented at Court. She was outstanding as one of the leading debutantes of the season. And you, you're going to leave. Have you no scruples."

"Well Fm not awfully well at this moment. But perhaps later."

"Later. My husband Stephen here is in the motor trade. Some of our best friends pass on this very road outside. Not more than a few yards from the bedroom to which you dragged our daughter. How is she now going to confront some honourable gentleman who will hear of these heinous hours spent here in this place. Are you aware that she is in receipt of a written proposal from a peer of the realm."

"Fm sorry, I didn't know."

"Well she is. And that may be now ruined forever. One hopes one does not have to resort to sordid measures. But in the circumstances I have no alternative but to ask you. What are your intentions towards our daughter. Availing yourself as you so obviously have of the prerogatives of the marriage chamber. Can you answer me that."

Balthazar B his hands placed neatly palms down flat on each thigh. Stephen pretended to look out on the river. And I face these eyes accusingly glued to me as I sneak away cowering into the Austrian Alps and there am seen peeing on a defenceless mountain flower. Sitting here nearly waiting for one's second childhood to play games missed in the first. Without an erotic hope in one's future. Only antique collecting left to give one a sense of longevity. As the desperations come. When Beefy planned his ad in The Times. Gentleman of razor thin means, bachelor with own dog and gun, suffering slight nervous disability, glad to undertake light administrative work or, in clement weather, prepared to give time tending rose garden in return for congenial permanent accommodation where servants kept. While the present advertiser suffers some slight psychological impairment he is fluent in Urdu. Beefy what do I do. As I struggle heavy footed. Dying amid flashes of sunny memories. When Bella once sat, a picture of a funny little car she said was hers, and I laughed when I heard her say her car was not well, it had been long ailing, so she took it to the car doctor for a little bit of hammering and a little bit of fixing and a little bit of oil and the car doctor gave it medicine and it coughed.

"Coughing is all very well, my dear boy. That is all very well. One only hopes one finds a way out of this before it is too late. And Millicent pregnant. The matter lies with you rather than with us. For the moment anyway. I don't want to go on repeating myself, but what are your intentions towards our daughter."

"I have had good intentions."

"Continue."

"Yes I have had them. But I don't think I know really what to do with them. I know I'm not very good at making myself clear."

"We have until eight fifteen, so by all means continue."

"Well I don't know really, I happen to have had a fear of death."

"What on earth are you talking about. I want to know what your intentions are. And I won't leave this smoking room until I do. Then it will be quite clear to us what steps are to be taken to protect our daughter's interests."

"I only meant I was choking to death before. It's passed now. I have intentions."

"Yes, you have intentions."

"Yes I do."

"I see. Intentions to do what."

"Well I guess a lot of things."

"What lot of things."

"But I haven't done anything to Millicent."

"You haven't. Surely you must be joking. Stephen I think we had better reserve our rights and seek legal advice."

"O my God. Don't."

"Don't. Of course we shall."

"I'll marry maybe, if that is, I mean o my God, my trustees would have to approve.' "You'll marry maybe. O that's very nice to know. And also we can acquaint your trustees then fully."

"O God no. Please leave it to me."

"Well then. This perhaps is a little different. But you seem so sure Millicent will marry you."

"No I'm not."

"But you intend then to marry Millicent."

"I think maybe I do."

"You think. You'd better know."

"I know."

"I'm sorry to have to put matters like that. But one can't go on bantering and bandying."

"Yes. I'll marry Millicent."

"I hope you won't think for one second that either Milli-cent's father or I want you to marry Millicent if you would really prefer to worm away like a cad."

"O no. Not nice. A cad. Would you mind. I think I may require the use of a water closet. Thank you."

Balthazar rushing from the room. Across the lobby into the bar where he reached to grab his still waiting brandy as he passed. To feel the bowel beginning to move. As one rushed to get into these cool shadows and quickly lower drawers. No one has ever seen a kangaroo screw. Yet somehow I've been seen. And wasn't screwing. I could do worse. She's big and awfully stong with a lot of curves. Live with the constant fear of being beaten up by a woman in a fair fight. Beefy says without cash use courage and I'm without courage and can't use cash. And soon by the feel of it I'll have piles too. Chains winding round one with an eternal clank. Can't leap from the crapper here and go chasing so hopelessly after freedom. Only thing left now is to rest and ruminate without rusting. Be parsley sprinkled on everyone else's soup. The shadow's of her two nipples pressed against her beige silk. Her legs back and forth across the tennis court. The long tan muscles winking on her thighs. To catch a glimpse of her arse cheek as she wound up to serve. That's what I watched because she slammed so hard I couldn't see the ball. And her father seems to have two glass eyes. The Sunday I went to tea. Had a postage stamp of cucumber sandwich and declined a piece of cake. I agreed with everything they said to me. Given them such a headstart. They said with all Millicent's suitors the phone never stopped ringing. And her mother sighed when she said it would be such a rest when Millicent was finally engaged. And I wondered then how they ever knew my father had been connected with cement and wine, cars and pulp. How long I can hold out in here. Before Millicent's mother comes in and gets me. O my God. I am heartily sorry for myself. My ears are burning, they feel very red. They'll be searching my bag upstairs. Full of French letters. Must keep a grip. Millicent's breasts are multiplying right in front of my eyes. This is what one gets. Not staying home and reading the parish magazine. And Millicent's mother's eyes during the time she spoke to me, kept dipping and staring at my flies. And the words I was hearing. Have you any dirty habits you've come here with from abroad. For instance, the crabs. O my God. How can one ever be. Ideally suited for the world. And.

Popular

Personality.

25

The organ played, Balthazar B stood solemn and still. Mil-licent covered in white veils. A choir hired to sing. And all through the ceremony I needed desperately to pee. Listening through Millicenfs four Christian and one double barrelled names. Reeled off again and again. Millicent, Angelina, Consuelo, Trixie Butterworth Jones. Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony. Beefy handed me the ring. With this ring I thee wed with my body I thee worship and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. And a little boy followed by his mother running up the center aisle between all the morning suits and ladies' hats and crinolines, shouting in his high pitched voice, mommie mommie I must do wee wee.

This tiny chap had big green innocent eyes. And while other folk drew in their breath I turned to smile at him. He was a sweet looking little fellow. And Beefy too reached to pat him soothingly on the head and whisper and point at where he could go, in his short trousers, brown tiny shoes and red little jumper.

A house had been rented for the reception. From people who it seemed paid their rent that way. Millicent's father had whispered and asked before the wedding if I were able to effect a discount on the wine and spirits. I was alarmed and later surprised when it turned out I could. Millicent's uncles crowded me in the corner. One trying to sell me a used car, another who would give me the opportunity as a new relative to heavily invest in his newly opened ironmongery shop. And Mr. Pleader said at our last conference that the sum demanded on behalf of one's fiancee as a marriage settlement was excessive. Beefy swept his way back and forth chatting gaily among the guests and made a splendid speech. He spoke of the bride's brilliance on the tennis court and said he knew her soup would be every bit as good as her serve. He gave me as a wedding present two cement cast replicas of the stray dog of long ago, little Soandso, for the front porch of Crescent Curve. Said they would scare away other dogs who would shit and make one skid on one's steps. And two gross of French letters got wholesale near Tottenham Court Road, beating the man down over the price until both were in an hysterical nervous sweat. Millicent smiled through everything. Even when Beefy after nudging numerous bridesmaids under the tit, waltzed up to her mother and slipped her one of his beatific gooses. She laughed delightedly as she disported tipsily explaining at length why I had no relatives.

The motor came, and changed and packed we piled in. The waving heads from the window. A last picture taken against a drain and bars of a fence. Beefy said Balthazar she is really beautiful but don't give her too much all at once. Wait till she likes it and then by God you can feed it to her like honey. She'll eat it and love it. He said the Violet Infanta was playing hard to get. But he was rogering items in between. He blew a kiss and said give my saucy regards to Dublin. And lastly yelling in the window as we pulled away. I won't be wiped out by the phenomenon of natural selection but shall triumph as the fittest with the fattest inheritance.

The train was delayed pulling out of Euston. A derailment, and widespread fog covering the Midlands. With smash and grab burglars emptying shop windows over the same area. Beefy said there is no criminal class as ready as the English to swing into action when the weather is ripe. Millicent wanted to know what was in the parcel Beefy gave me with such a smile. I said the first thing that came into my head, chewing gum. And when I looked and reflected on the two hundred and eighty eight condoms I was rather flattered. But a little mystified by the two dozen black ones found enclosed.

The night full of flashing light, twisted grey pipes of fac-326 tories. By biscuit makers and piggeries and the shimmer of the canal. We pulled into Liverpool utterly late. Between the black sweating sooty walls. And missed the boat to Dublin. I felt everyone must know I carry all the French letters I do. Millicent looking up from her magazine in our first class compartment. As I looked at my watch. And she turned without a smile and said, you clot.

The grim bleak black station. The train emptying. Carts stacked high with mail. The smoking sighing locomotives and sulphurous smells. Liverpool covered in mist. A soft droplet rain staining footpaths with black sooty prints. Millicent in her all pale blue and pink. The great wide shady hat on her head. Sitting with teeth clenched on our stack of luggage. I phoned the Adelphi Hotel, sorry sir, all booked up. I phoned and phoned and the answer always the same. The strong midget professorial porter finally said he knew of a place. And a propos of nothing at all Millicent said that the announcement of the wedding in the paper had brought an avalanche of filthy literature and contraceptive advice. With my religious and gentlemanly feelings I was desperate to please. I said Fd get a taxi.

Up the dark grim cobble stone street. A wasteland of blackened rooftops and crazy chimney pots. In the shadows a dying plant in its flowerpot on a square foot of front garden before this house with a green door. Bed and breakfast, clean and select. In view of my wedding night I was glad it was both of these things. At the end of this long narrow hall a balding man eyes me rather suspiciously. Forge on, chilled hungry and begrimed, it hardly matters. Yes I have a double room for two. I said would he mind I would just go back and ask my wife. Just outside the door.

"I'm not going in there."

"Millicent everywhere is booked."

"You're such a clot, my God."

"Please it's just for tonight."

"Do you think I'm going to go into that place."

After much tugging. Embroidery and sheer fatigue. She moved. Up the steps, one by one. Standing tall, her elegant legs silhouetted against the wet glimmering street. The man standing ahead of me in this barren green walled hall. His grey cardigan buttoned. A blueish cloth knotted at his throat. Raising his hand and putting his head to the side as he peered at Millicent. Her heels clicking on the floor, her head rearing with disdain. Outside the taxi pulled away. The landlord leaning forward, putting his hands on his hips.

"Ere ere now, there'll be none of that now. None of that in this ere house. I keeps a respectable premises and there'll be none of that ere."

"I beg your pardon."

"Don't you beg my pardon. There'll be none of that kind of goings on in my hotel. Plenty of them kind of places down on the docks the bottom of the hill for that kind of caper."

"I beg your pardon."

"O yeah, sure you do. You'll beg my pardon too when I lose my licence for keeping a disorderly house."

"This lady here is my wife."

"I've heard that one before."

"And I have a marriage licence to prove it. Furthermore I would have thought you'd take more care than to risk slandering callers at your guesthouse."

This grey skinned man retreating silently for a key. I couldn't believe my own ears at my forceful say. Just as one wanted to run. Millicent's eyes wide with fascination, when one would have thought it might have been umbrage. We climb up two flights of stairs. Into a square green walled room, two electric converted gas mantles on the wall. Yellow and blue triangles across the linoleum floor. To shut the door and put a chair up against the knob. Millicent standing in the middle of the room absolutely still. I say things to her and she refuses to speak. My bag with the two gross of French letters left behind checked in the station. I thought all the way up on the train that I might try one of those coloured black. Just for size.

The lights left burning. All the night. Millicent after two hours leaning against the wall condescended to sit on a chair, hat on, wrapped in her coat. I sat fully clothed, elbows resting on my knees and my head in my hands in the center of the bed. To finally lie backwards and fall asleep. To dream of the brown envelopes on the floor of Crescent Curve when first I came back there from Paris. And pink envelopes started to fall and cascade down the stairs. Building up around me as I stood. I had Fitzdare's photograph in my hands. Which shook as I said Elizabeth. To see her small smile across her lips and the soft waves flowing back from her hair. The beads of light in her eyes shining like the beads of her pearls. When the clouds were grey and blue. Across the morning breezy sky of Fermanagh. Stood there. Seeing. Racing along the green edge of the sparkling lough. In that morning crystal air, the earthly God forbidden splendour of Elizabeth Fitzdare. And the words I hear.

'Take me out of here."

Millicent in the same position on her chair. One long leg folded over the other squeezing out a curving mound of flesh. A long hacking coughing and upheaving coming through the wall of the next room. Sound of water draining and a toilet flushing. The lids droop on Millicent's eyes and she snaps awake again. I must go and take an urgent and desperate pee.

"Did you hear what I said. I said take me out of here."

"Yes. I will. Just excuse me. I must go to the water closet. I'm sorry."

Among these breakfasting figures I pushed a tray along a self service rail. Had coffee, two sausages, bacon and egg. Gritty around my collar. Greasy round the egg. Face feeling stiff with sleeplessness and grime. Millicent sat across the table and refused to eat. And after silence through the morning she spoke as we sat amid hotel palms for tea,

"Who is Fitzdare."

"Fitzdare."

"Yes. You were shouting it out in your sleep. And you writhed. It was quite horrid to watch."

As the ship cut through the water. And at dawn Dublin loomed in the west. I never said who Fitzdare was. Ten o'clock last night rung high up on the Royal Liver Building shaking the great birds atop held against the wind. The dark heaving pier. I had two bottles of stout in the bar before I went to bed. Millicent in the top bunk. The ship hitting a bit of rough sea. I undressed falling about the cabin. I was trying to find the ladder up to her bunk. My pole so hard I thought it would break. Feeling exposed and awkward when it waves about. Apologise and explain that it did it when least I knew why and often when I was only counting money. To now take it with me wagging up step by step to kiss her on the cheek.

"Get your drunken hands off me."

She reached out and shoved me on the shoulder. I fell from the ladder with a crash. And lay in silent naked agony. A terrifying pain across my shoulder and down my arm. Waking in a cold sweat in the dawn of this lower berth. The path of death so well worn by the many gone before. The brown plastic ventilator in the ceiling. Lifebelts in racks over the top bunk. A brass vomit bowl and a white chamber pot. Catching my breath with pain. Struggling to look out the porthole. The sea calm. A dredger, grey and still. Dublin lies flat and ahead, hills rising out around her. The Sugarloaf beyond Dalkey. The sky all faint blues. A squat row of the little houses as the ship turns round. Down those alleys went Beefy in all his degrees of devilment. See a pair of great iron hooks and the cables winching in the bows. Ships. The Manta. Netta from Rotterdam. The Glenbridge from Dublin.

An ambulance was called to the ship. I was lifted out on a stretcher staring at the sky. Millicent said she was red faced with embarrassment and all the French letters were confiscated. At the red brick hospital over the Grand Canal bridge. They said I had a broken collar bone.

But one

Day

Soon

I would

Be well

Again.