The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B (33 page)

"Sir, there are gurglings going on somewhere."

"What."

"Gurglings, we've heard gurglings and groans."

"I beg your pardon."

"We've traced it up here. Had to come in your door. To investigate of course."

"What are you doing in this house."

"Sir, gurgling and groaning and some cries have been heard out in the garden. By my wife."

"Gurgling."

"Yes, quite. We have come to see by what authority it is being emitted. Sir. Then there were groans, long, long piercing groans."

"I think you must be mistaken."

"O no, there are four of us. This other gentleman came with us. He heard it too. We met him on the street. We wish to know sir, by what authority these groans are being uttered. As it would appear from the sound that some embranglement is afoot. Sir, my God, have regard, you are without any garments, please."

"Pardon. But it is my house and I want to see the rest of you. The light's not awfully good."

"Yes, quite, we wish of course it were better too. On this investigatory mission. I don't think any of us, let me make that point quite clear, will be deterred by hollow answers. We are all here agreed we have heard the groans and moans."

"You are I think trespassing. This is my house."

"Look sir, that may be, but again I must make perfectly clear that we have entered upon the premises on a serious investigatory mission, in the manner, if I may say so, of vigilantes, and we would appreciate not being trifled with. If someone is in distress it is the duty of citizens to demand to know sir."

Millicent sitting upright in shadows, the sheets gathered around. A cow goes on grazing latterly the bull has been in her. Balthazar B bare arsed at the dressing room door, a Welsh traveller in Wales attired in national costume. Urgent whispers from Millicent get those damn people out of my room. Beefy said it was an inclination of Knightsbridge population to have a go. With fans, lorgnettes and furled umbrellas. To put down theft, slow up crime. And stop diabolical secret murder. Betwixt the damp warrens of masonry. The English hide their houses and the French always cut a little window in their trees. But one of those misty London evenings can come with the pavements moist and greasy black as the people thread darkly home through the streets. And the paper sellers' shouts go out. Echoing across the fog. Woman's torso found in Thames. Killer with a surgeon's skill. Floating remains found on foreshore of Wapping Old Stairs. Police search for missing head. A clue to the killer might be given by the expression on the dead person's face. A smile if the victim had long liked the assailant. Surprise and horror if she did not. The torso was well built. Now tarry sir, listen to the gore. The hairy hand, reaching. Cutting. Leaving blood and remains. On the foreshore. What does one answer in all this distress. To keep one's arse unbroken. Or police being called and possible arrest. Only left one thing to say.

"I know that my redeemer liveth."

"That's all very well and proper sir, all of us here I'm sure know that our redeemer liveth. But dash it all, that's exactly why we will not be sidetracked."

"Could we not all sing Abide With Me."

"Certainly not sir, this is not a joke. We demand to see in."

"No."

"Sir, you are asking to get force from us. Isn't that so, I didn't catch your name on the street sir, ah, Whitewang. Is that in one or two words, White Wang, ah two, good. Now isn't that so Mr. White Wang, we are being asked to use force here."

"I must ask you all to go away please. Out of my wife's dressing room.' "We shall not."

"My wife only is here. And she is quite well."

"How do we know that sir. My own wife is certain she recognised the cries of a downed female, if I may be so blunt as to use that term."

Balthazar swung wide open the dressing room door. Till now one has been so patient with the entire world. Tip toeing through a woman's dissatisfactions hoping too many of them will go unheard. Seems anyone steps in these days to infernally invade one's privacy. Treat them now to plenty so they won't be asking for more. One gentleman and lady in the forefront. One lady and one gentleman in the rear.

"My God sir, how dare you present yourself thus, to my wife."

"You're demanding to gain entrance to my bedroom. You are already standing in my house. Without my leave. And I again request you to go."

"Sir, attend to yourself. You are in a state of undress. I happen to be connected with the Admiralty and I am also a member of the Automobile Club."

"Well I should be glad then if you would promptly motor out of here."

"I think I speak as spokesman for the group, and God help me man I would appreciate if you were to cover yourself."

"I am quite as God made me."

"That sir is a matter between you and God. We all of us consulted at length in the street over the noises. Matters had to be taken into our own hands to insure that injury was not being done. Now that we are here we intend to succeed in the measures we have thus far taken."

"Did you hear a cry for help."

"No, I don't believe we did."

"Then I must ask you to leave this instant."

"Look sir, all of us are willing volunteers. Responding to what we feel is an emergency. I've had my time in Burma, sir. Fve been acquainted with this kind of thing before. When although there isn't an outright cry for help, one surmises quite properly that the presence of help is required. I wish sir, you wouldn't continue to stand there naked like that.' "What was your rank."

"Major and damn it sir, attend to yourself, I'm quite fed up talking to you in that condition, presenting yourself unadorned to my wife like that. Get back behind the door or a towel at least."

"I want you to clear out please."

"Not until we have had satisfaction sir."

"I said please go."

"Sir if you take another naked step forward in front of my wife I shall strike you."

"I'm sure your wife has seen privates before. Fve spent half an hour in front of the Sorbonne like this."

"What you did sir, nude in front of the Sorbonne, is no concern of ours. And my wife has not seen privates before. Not even in tableau. And how dare you suggest she has."

"Have you no privates Major."

"As a matter of fact if you must know I received an injury to them in Burma. In the service of my country. Wretched wog had at me with a lucky shot. And sir I think you are being most ungentlemanly to stand there like that, cold bloodedly exposing yourself. And sir your organ is deliberately twitching""For the last time, please leave this house."

"I am umpiring this matter here, sir, with the full agreement of the others. I resent strongly my integrity being questioned. I have commanded men in foreign parts. But if I may say so, foreign parts are one thing, and facing your privates provocatively presented is entirely another. We want evidence that all in the room beyond is quite correct and no knavery has been committed."

"I shall take this coat hanger to you. If you don't get out of this house."

"I must remind you sir that every Englishman is duty bound according to his code of behaviour to have a go wherever there is evidence of foul play.' "What evidence."

"We shall see.' "And if you don't.' "Well we shall of course retreat and enlist the aid of further authority."

"Followed closely by my legal advisers who will lash you with writs till your shoelaces dance in terror."

"Good God sir, we're only doing our best here. What about all the poor old dears in this street. What about them, they may even now cower thinking they will be next. They are not motor owners like we, and here I speak for myself as I do not know if Mr. White Wang is a motor owner."

"I'm not."

"O I see. But these old dears can't motor away to safety, peace and quiet. We of us who own motors must take care that the rights of those less fortunate are protected."

Balthazar B covering privates with the shoulder bulge of the coat hanger as there was a slight engorgement there. In the heat of this utterly unbelievable encounter. When one would prefer to be popping fresh strawberries down one's throat, right out of season. But one thing to do. Before these people try to fill me up with sawdust to make me look nice. Is to set the record right and send these folk scattering.

"Millicent would you please phone for the police. To come and have these intruders shown the door."

"Yes I will."

Alarm over the Major's face. He reached for his breast pocket spotted red hanky. And wiped away the moisture on his thin upper lip. Which he licks now. The nameless second lady quite at home feeling, as she passes, the satin of Milli-cent's counterpane. Mr. White Wang staring down at his shoes and up at the ceiling as the little group slowly moves backwards towards Millicent's open bedroom door. Balthazar B advancing. Nakedly.

"I wish sir that you would not keep advancing in that con dition. Quite clearly there's been a misunderstanding but my wife's heart is not good."

"It appears to have had sufficient pumping adequacy to get her up here. And one would certainly hope to get her out. Go away please.' ''We are going. Please let us. Without coming too close, there's quite a lot of light out here on the staircase. Marjorie please turn your head away. Look front. Please, for my sake."

Balthazar standing at the stair head watching the little group pass out and close the door. From the small reading room window one looks down. There gathered on the pavement. The vigilantes. Watched by the Colonel across the street in the window with his binoculars totally emerged from the plant leaves. One might now be advised to hang out a sign high over the front door. To those of you who do not recognise the groans of lust which one hopes will continue to come out of this house. To say to you, do not breach the privacy dear chaps, if you please. And when next you hear a scream. Look up at the night.

The new

Moon yawns

To take

A bite

Of

The sky.

27

The little fellow was born three days after nurse came to Crescent Curve with her hat of white daisies with big white petals on the back top of her head. She wore blue frequently and when out of uniform a grey sweater with two rows of amber beads. She smoked inhaling the air deeply and threw her head back shooting the smoke upwards at an angle from the horizontal.

A fortnight later nannie came. And nurse was slow to leave. In the long still tight lipped silences at table. No one having a second helping except of wine. Millicent wrapped up high with frills all over her bed. Delivered trays of delicacies by the fragile and hard of hearing Boats with his white hair flowing behind his ears. He had made his way from his tiny sea front cottage in Dorset. Travelling for three days, getting lost on stations, taking trains back to where he came from instead of where he was going. As I shouted directions to him down the long distance phone. Lodged safely now up top in the back room. With all his neat equipments laid ready about.

There were tremors of lighted warmth over the house. Between the black looks nurse gave nannie and nannie gave nurse. Neither ever passing the salt to the other and pushing butter and bread further away. Millicent muchly reclined in the middle of her bed having hair and fingernails done. The little fellow nuzzling in at the breasts. One nipple just a little larger than the other. The left one as a matter of fact. Mil-licent's right eye is a little larger than the left. Nature quite fussy in balancing things. Beefy came to visit. We had a private little talk in the library.

"Dear boy, I don't know what the Violet Infanta's advisors and principals want. Fve told them granny will go to her maker any day and I will be immortally rich. They say they are advised from confidential sources my granny will go on living for years and years, the reports say she has the heart of a twelve year old girl. It is all simply too too sad. The Infanta when I roger her says she's got to wank. Asked me if I minded her tickling herself off in that manner. I said don't be a miserable so and so, of course I don't mind. Of course you may wank if it gives an extra pleasure. Full steam to orgasm. Sometimes the Infanta wears an expression of staggeringly splendid stupidity on her face, utterly endearing. I'm frightened I may be becoming more fond of her than her money. She has an awfully beautiful back. Ah my God Balthazar, you're a father. I'm not even a husband yet. And from last week no longer an elevator operator. Too awful. I am about to reveal my address to the world as the Savoy Steps, a nice crooked little street behind the Monarch's church where there's no doorway to deliver an envelope to."

Beefy with his strangely delicate fingers playing with the stem of his glass. Boats entering, lifting up another bottle laid down in the ice. His hands shaking as he undid the wire over the cork. Which hit him on the forehead and nearly knocked him out. We sat there stilled by Boats' lofty elegance as he silently withdrew. And I asked Beefy, who has so often sailed through my life, yawing and heaving, cutting through the waves under a brisk following breeze, how had he lost command of his lift.

"It happened most unexpectedly. I'd been taking chaps up to the top floor throughout the afternoon. Had this Chinese coin with a hole in it in the palm of my hand. If I had a chap with me travelling alone, I'd mumble an aside that this was the tip the last passenger gave me. Worked marvellously time and again in producing a couple of bob. Anyway, I'm as usual conducting a most well run lift. Giving smart salutes to those passengers deserving it. And slipping out a morsel of a fart at others meeting with my displeasure, mostly of the untutored talkative variety addressing me without invitation. This is marvellously good champagne Balthazar. So good to see you sitting there. Happy in your own little buzzing home. Nice. But me alas. I sped my elevator to the top floor. To take down some of the day's last passengers. There they were, an even dozen gents. Although all short, all extremely wide. They were pushing, all wanting down at once. Well I mean to say, one has had authority over a company of men in the field. I said gentlemen, the capacity of this machine is seven, the first seven please only. The entire twelve instantly crushed forward. I announced over the heads that we would plummet to the bottom of the lift shaft and if one gentleman would step back he could laugh himself sick at the sight. Well it was quite clear that they were not about to let one of their number get to the bottom first. A most horrid group. Fuck-pigs of multiplicities, distinguished as they were by jug handled ears and halitosis. They mocked my safety precautions. I announced once more that the capacity was seven. The pushing became even more prevalent. I was poohpoohed in an aggressive manner. Their cigars were starting to stick into the back of each other's necks. I thought you saucy chaps, you're all fiddling with each other's genitals at the closest of quarters. The lift was already swaying and groaning with the weight. Again I announced the risk. No one could bear to be the chap to step out and be left behind. The last bugger who finally squeezed himself aboard had his arse stuck in the doors. Wouldn't close. There was a general exhaling and he was fitted in. The mixture of smells was sickening. By the time they all got on they could have walked down. I thought well, stand by my post. A guardsman always. Of course I reckoned we were quite safe. I manoeuvered the power handle over to descend. Slowly. But we were picking up speed. The sixth floor passed by. The fourth flashed by. And the rest simply didn't exist at all. Not nice. I pressed and pulled and switched the emergency yokes. The whole gang of them shouting, what's wrong, stop it. I braced myself for the moment of impact at basement level. Or perhaps lower. And my lift which I had run without the loss of single life was suddenly a load of moaning trembling sweating jelly. Screams of legal steps and negligence and we want out. My God, I thought wistfully of my pedigree. And my most modest position. The alarm bell now ringing. Stifling smoke from cigars. Like a crematorium. One accusing another that he was breathing his area of air. A third that his lawyers would already be looking into his disappearance. Two chaps just behind me however were engrossed in discussing percentages of a deal. Thirteen of us trapped for twenty five minutes. Finally in the lobby there were police, fire brigade, lawyers, all taking dispositions from the lift travellers who had suffered moral disfigurement and spiritual bitterness in the disastrous descent. And would sue for damages. Each one pointing a finger at me. Balthazar. My dear man. Here you are, in life, where I should so much like to be."

Gallantly through dinner Beefy lightheartedly tickling the fancies of nurse and nannie. Through the somewhat long pauses as Boats got stuck outside the dining room door. His shoes far too big for him. The tray too heavy. Until the yells from cook brought us all running. Boats in the scullery covered in gravy and mint sauce. Beefy and I lifting the dear old gentleman bodily. Up to his bed. Putting compresses softly on his brow. As I had to rush to meet Alphonsine, an au pair arrived from France. In her soft grey suit, short cropped hair and pretty eyes. And quite extraordinary arse, much callipyge.

But again we were all nice and settled. Cook laying a place for Alphonsine. As she sat shy with her wine, slabs of lamb, rhubarb custard, port and cheese. Which Beefy and I brought up to Boats and he lay propped with pillows in bed, a purple tasselled night cap on his white head. His faint blue eyes and delicate long fingered hands. We poured his port and held it for him to his lips and slowly he revived and indeed was rather animated and cheerful. Spoke of his great old days with Uncle Edouard and before that in the grandnesses of Wales. When he went shooting and fishing. And met his first love. Until he finally fell asleep and gently snored.

Beefy and I sat there with the sleeping Boats. Quaffing a decanter of port. Quite silent. Tonight in England. Across all the stiff upper unmustached lips. Men not clever, not overly endowed with carnal prowess, but of normal pleasant appetites, only asking to enjoy their pudding in peace. Some with a quiet evening erection browsing through their erotica. Secure in their postal districts, or preferred counties. At slipper footed ease in their castles. And here in Crescent Curve where Boats busted the cut glass bowls one by one. To my cheered relief to see the last of these seventeen wedding presents purchased at the same sale finally disappear.

"Of course Balthazar. I was so depressed. Nothing seemed dandy randy and delightful anymore. Wondering if the sun would ever come up again. To be witnessed solitary in London. Known that one's diary entries are nil. That one's life doesn't merit having the hours booked up. I chose some fluff from the Bayswater Road. And announced my desires. She said that will be two guineas extra. I said guineas. She said yes, Fm not like the other girls, my fees have always been in guineas. Very cheeky she was. I said peruse my organ and pull it gently for me please. I sang my repertoire of Irish ballads. She said aren't you the straightforward darling though. I said usually I was rather more craven but wasn't at my best tonight. She had a quite nice little place. She asked me if I wanted to watch her ride for two more guineas her rocking horse in her transparent macintosh. Of course, I screamed, I want to see you ride. Then she asked me to give her a little fluttering of the whip across her what for. I said madam that will be exactly three guineas. She was furious. But you know, suddenly again I was awfully cheered. At that moment. And my God. What happens. The floor was quivering. And shaking. As I laid on the lash. I knocked her over. Both of us fell. And one's one leg and a knee of the other went right through a blasted cardboard patch in the floor. Came out through the ceiling below, in a room where they were showing the second house of a dirty film. Well I scratched my head. I really did. And calmly looked down upon the scene. Not nice. Boats dear man is snoring there, I may be giving him dreams. But upon my word, the debacle of the lift was most minor. There they were below. Dirty film goers. About fifteen of them. Trying to get out the door. Some through a blocked up window. I could catch a glimpse of the untoward film still flickering on its moth eaten screen. Of course they thought it was the police. Attacking from the top. I must confess I did myself whisper such a word. Thought it would frighten away complaints from below. Said this is the chief detective superintendent Beefy, everyone stay as you are. The thing was the chaps below were locked in. Pure murder. I recognised a titled cousin struggling in the dust and broken chairs to get out between someone's legs. Packed with peerage it was. One shouting out that he wished to call attention to the lack of sanitary provisions in a place of entertainment and was present there officially investigating the matter. Marvellous ruddy cheek of the chap. But enough Balthazar. I must go. Look how Boats sleeps. After his long gentle life. My God it makes one wish one had been born a butler."

Quietly leaving Boats' room. Past Alphonsine's door. Where Beefy bent to peek in the keyhole and put his hand up to his amazed lips. As I dragged him away and down the stairs. To bid him a fond goodnight out my front door. Standing between the two little statues of doggies. Beefy patting them on the head. I watched him walk away down the street. Until the shadow of his jaunty shoulders turned the corner. After this April third day. Back in there the little family I'd founded. To look up at the sky. Mountains of cloud tumbling across the tree tops down the street. Rain beginning to fall. I sigh. When suddenly one is left without a complaint.

The silent house. To pass back into my study. The wall now lined with volumes treating of the whole of the animal kingdom. Of the birds and snakes, of the monkey and the horse. Port left in the decanter on my desk. Sit at last for a little read of the paper. Sip the sweet splendour of this ancient fortified wine. And lay out the page. Of The Times. Announcing marriages, births and ruby weddings. And rows of deaths. Of all these pleasant ringing names. Adams, Blyth, Clutterbuck, Donoghue, Eliot. And.

FITZDARE. On March 3ist, peacefully at The Manor, Co. Fermanagh, Elizabeth Astrid Benedicta Fitzdare, beloved only daughter of Raphael Fitzdare, in her twenty fourth year. Funeral private at The Manor. No flowers please.