The Onion Eaters (18 page)

Hold Charlene’s ribs from the side pinched between my hand. Her tongue out licking over her lips. Doing a wondrous trick with my own tool. Pushing up the tray. Topple the teacup. She sits arms forward, reddened hands stilled in her lap which take up buckets of water, wash over floors, make my bed, tug the entrails from chickens. Unlucky enough to go clucking in this castle. Where one did once streaking out of the pantry passage, flying across the library and scratching up along the shelves of books. Chased by Elmer’s clacking great grey hungering jaws. Charlene caught it. And said if you kill it I’ll cook it. And I stood out in the yard clutching the feathery thing to my chest near the rain water barrel turning my head away as
I plunged it in. Tough to drown a chicken. It bounced up out the water squawking blue murder. Out came a
laughing
Charlene catching up the dripping cornered bird by the legs, plopping its head on a block and with one swipe of her cleaver taking off its head. The bird’s neck spurting blood as it flapped around the cobbles. Had to keep myself from putting hands up to cover my eyes. Next morning at breakfast Charlene was brisk and busy. Till I said I was no chicken killer. And a soft grin grew across her face, lashes of her eyes flickered and I wanted to touch the blue vein on her neck. She sits there now, eyes cast down, my hand moving up under her sweater. Under there these smooth white things with hardened little tips under the matted wool.

‘Mr Clementine. I want to ask you a question.’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you fancy me.’

‘Yes.’

‘You won’t mind if I ask you something else personal.’

‘No.’

‘Do you fancy Lady Macfugger. I saw you staring at her during the bull fight. I guess she’s very grand and rich. And can have anything she wants. And you’ve heard stories about me, haven’t you.’

‘I had a letter.’

‘It was about me, wasn’t it. The dirty filthy pigs. What did it say.’

‘Just a general letter about the historic nature of the surroundings. It did mention though that livestock morals were loose in the district and the department of agriculture were investigating.’

‘Before you hear any more lies I’ll tell you the truth. While I was just an impressionable little lass I’d rise to the bait of any little flattery flung me way. A business man in the town had a car and gave me rides. Before I knew what was happening I’d given myself to him. To tell you the truth I was just like Imelda. Only that lecherous old bastard told me he was putting in his thermometer to get my temperature. He owned the chemist’s shop and I
believed him. Grey haired and precise he was. As mean as God ever made anyone. Had a little book. He’d say you’ve been a very good girl today your temperature was ninety eight point seven degrees. He had a pair of brown shoes with the leather soles so thin he had only to step out of his car and they were worn out. I’d hide at the end of the town in behind a wall. He’d pick me up and we’d drive with me crouching down in the back till we got here to the castle, rumoured as it Was to be filled with ghosts and terrors where no one would venture. Which I suppose is true enough. My grandmother had stories aplenty to tell. We came to a bedroom just above off the great hall. After a few occasions of taking my temperature he then one
evening
left me. After he’d asked me to do something to him that five minutes later he said was unnatural. Stood shaking his finger at me in a bit of moonlight shining into the great hall. I was quaking there terrified. Told me to find my own way back alone to town in the dark. O God I’ll never forget it. I wet myself with fright. I got lost. Listening to the rats I just must have finally fainted and they found me
paralysed
and my hair turning white the next afternoon. Then the dirty bastard wanted me to marry him. When I wouldn’t he spread stories. That I was here in the castle giving out to a queue of farmers’ sons and itinerants. The man spread filth and evil about me everywhere. And later when I was going with a nice young boy he poisoned him against me. Maybe it was as well for me the young lad died. Pneumonia suddenly came on him and he was destroyed. One evening he was passing down the road with a load of turf kneeling up in a cart and the next he was up on his next of kin’s shoulders in his coffin. Not a thing left but a few ould stones on top of where he lies. All I know is if there’s no heaven there’s sure enough been plenty of hell. They preach to you that God is good and generous. I think he must be a scoundrel. If he accepts worship from the
diseased
hypocrites of that town. Not a soul here you can trust. From the moment they lay eyes on you their little brains are scheming how to get the better of you. A back turned is a back stabbed. Do you think I’m out of my mind.’

‘No.’

‘I do. You’ve got such beautiful teeth. I’ve lost two
behind
here. Not one in your head is missing. Open. God that’s pure radiant gold in the middle of your back molars. You’ve got a mouth like a tabernacle. You’d be at risk asleep with it open. Some of them would have that precious metal out of your head and into the pawn. I don’t know but that it wouldn’t be a relief to be ugly and know that the world will never like you anyway. With teeth or
without.
Don’t look at my hands. I’ve got the fingernails bit down to me elbows. I’d better be on my way about me chores or I’ll get fired.’

‘Don’t go.’

‘Your man Percival will be arriving any moment. He’s a one full of his authority. Thinks he has forty parlour maids and a dozen cooks when the few of us are standing down there in front of him in the kitchen of a morning. Telling us the boss wants this done the boss wants that. It’s Mrs L K L who never lets up. Yanking on the servants’ bell. You can hear the wires twinging in the walls. Propped up on the pillows as if she owned the place. She says in that high toned way of hers, I say you’re late with my tea. Then she wants me to stay and pour it out for her in the cup. I said you’re no cripple. She said how dare you. I hope you don’t mind but I told her she was an interloper, I wouldn’t know what that was but it sounded good. Some of the people you have staying here would bleed you white. I guess I better keep my place and keep my trap shut. I just don’t think it’s right that a kind and generous person like
yourself
should be put upon.’

Percival rapping with his door key. Charlene leaping up off the bed. Quickly pulling down her sweater which I slowly pulled up. She sails a cloth back and forth across the marble wash stand. And clanks a shovel full of light brown turf ash in a bucket. She backs away as Percival enters. Three ledgers stacked in the crook of his arm.

‘Good morning your worship. I trust you slept well.’

‘Yes thank you Percival.’

‘There have been I am sorry to report sir, shocking
depredations in the wine cellars. A person or persons
unknown
have entered without authority and removed
quantities
of spirits. I have my suspicions who it was. I’ve taken precautions to stop further ravages. Elmer has downed two chickens. He was with me out in the yard looking mild as you please when four of them struts by. I turn my back to answer a call of nature and two are left. It would be as well if we put them wild ones remaining in a coop.’

‘But good news too sir. Tim is turning a few sods up there in the old kitchen garden sowing spuds and cabbages. He’s come across the old rhubarb beds, gooseberry and raspberry bushes. In no time crops will be pouring out into the markets.’

‘Percival I don’t think I can hold out that long.’

‘Sir aren’t you sitting on a mountain of priceless
personal
chattels, sure in the new world over there they go wild over the genuine worm holes.’

‘The worm holes may be authentic but we’ve been told the rest is imitation and fake.’

‘Ah now I know a thing or two meself about fine art. Sure your man missed the date of the mahogany davenport by twenty five years. It’s Mr Erconwald who I’d say knows a thing or two. Didn’t he tell me that the figurines in the Etruscan room alone would keep you supplied with cars and yachts for a lifetime. The broken bits glued here and there on them, the chips smoothed over and no one would be the wiser.’

‘Keep your eye on them anyway won’t you Percival.’

‘My eye, haven’t I got my foot knee and chin on them. Only the place is rumoured full of ghosts and mad dogs there wouldn’t be a thing left in it. Porcelain puts into a man such a thirst for destruction he’d cuff his own mother out of the way so he could break it into smithereens. And if he can get his hands on any living thing of beauty he will destroy it or kill himself trying. There was a little cherry tree miraculously up there in a bit of shelter, didn’t one of your bog men come along when it had blossoms and rip it from the ground. He flings it away and wipes his
hands and says that’s that. I said to him that’s what. He says that’s that, that’s what what is, it’s that’s that. Now what could I say to that but that your man was a pig. It’s like life and breath to them to roar and ravage over the countryside, anything to get their hands on a sapling and tear it roots and all from the earth. Now to commissary matters. I thought with the bread we’d be all right keeping on with the fourteen loaves a day. Only five pounds of butter went yesterday. But it’s the bacon and eggs. Eighty two of your good sized hen’s eggs in the twenty four hours with nearly ten pounds of bacon. Your man above in the shop is lunatic trying to keep up the supply.’

‘O God.’

‘Now sir, don’t worry. We’re ready and able to carry on. In your ladyship’s day they’d go through three hundred eggs and twenty pounds of butter a day and three quarters of it would be left to be gobbled up by the pigs at night. And there’s a suggestion now. Pigs. There’s money in them. And a beast or two out there on the grass would not hurt you either.’

‘How much land have we Percival.’

‘Well now that might be a little difficult to figure straight off. With an exact figure that is. But you’d have a fair bit now on that mountain. I’d not be far amiss to say there’d be seven hundred acres. The demesne would have another nearly three hundred. There’d be fifty or sixty more down to the beach. And out that way on the headland you could reckon a hundred and seventy.’

‘If we tried farming.’

‘By God then you’d be right. Sure we’ve got Toro out there who’d have any heifer you’d bring near him in calf in no time. Sheep would be your man for the mountain. In springtime we’d have the lambs leaping and kicking across the meadows.’

‘All right Percival, we’ll look into it.’

‘Sir let me say I’m glad you said that.’

Days floating by while Bloodmourn played the Baron in chess. And I waited to play the winner. Paging through great leather tomes, standing by the table throughout the
afternoons. The Baron shaking his cuffs down before he delicately lifted and placed a piece. Bloodmourn first
leaning
over the board then straightening and rising in his seat. Pouncing when he could capture. Rapidly sweeping up the Baron’s bishop or knight. To get from the Baron three rare slowly made words.

‘Ah is dat so.’

Putlog and Erconwald arriving in the library to frown, murmur and shake their heads. Bloodmourn and the Baron fighting bitterly to three consecutive draws. Franz entering, a miner’s lamp attached to his head, greasy clay sods from his boots wiped on the rug recently made presentable by Charlene. Smoke rising from cigars and cigarettes. The fourth match brooding on through the night. Percival opening the shutters next morning as the two seated figures still sat heads in hands.

Mrs L K L came out of hibernation. Carried by the three prisoners and Lead Kindly Light in a sedan chair unearthed from somewhere. The group approaching one down the hall with slow measured steps. I nipped smartly into the nearest room. Ear held to the door till it went by. One of her solicitor’s recent letters had a change of tone.
Suggesting
that perhaps a solution could be reached should a
meeting
be convened at the site of the various ugsome complaints.

And one casually calm night Bligh came up the stony little pathway from the beach leading his chorus of voices each carrying a candle. Making a glittering winding snake slowly crawling across the hillside in the dark. High on the ramparts, castle inmates waiting. A soft still evening of sparkling stars. Through the gates, front door and across the great hall they came. Up the grand staircase and along the corridor to the chapel. Percival nudging my elbow.

‘Sir the Charnel has never seen the likes of this before I can tell you.’

I sat left of the aisle. Erconwald and Franz first row on the right. Bloodmourn and the Baron sitting together. Taking time out from the library where they sat locked in their sixteenth game. After fifteen draws. The
Macfuggers
came. Nails bright eyed at the sight of three young blue eyed big bosomed singing sisters. Chaperoned by a big bosomed blue eyed mother. A cheerful gathering meek and mild.

Rose heard above the choruses roaring her head off. Percival with four of the staff kneeling at the rail in the loft where Putlog sweats over the keys and foot pedals of the organ. Tim keeping candles lit. Mrs L K L blocking the aisle with exprisoners and sedan chair behind which stood Lead Kindly Light in full armour. And the little voices raised in song.

At this verse Clementine turning to look behind. Might be the signal for the insurgents. Catch Macfugger red haired and handed. Standing much too close to the big bosomed mother. And Charlene by the stone font at the chapel doorway, a black lace mantle on her hair. Concave jowls of these children singing. Out through teeth missing here and there. Eyes wide and roving. Staring at the strange shrouded figure in the sedan chair. That little boy’s folded hands trembling. All their faces scrubbed red cheeked and clean. My brown skinned nurse April who said you are cured. See her face smiling up against the altar there. Death could come now. In the middle of this recital. Unnoticed. Take me to lay under sods beyond the granite walls. Out on the headlands. Waves white along the coast. The wild loneliness. And a moist wind wetting the soul.