"Get her hair will you Myles of this fucking tart. And pull her mouth out of me."
"Ah now I'll hear none of that bad language, if you don't mind. Enough Breda is enough now. And why wouldn't it be. Let go a holt there. Sure if it isn't enough the term has no meaning at all. The language would fall of a sudden into disuse. Let's be decent people here now. It would be war everywhere. Without decency. Why wouldn't we be decent now nearly eight o'clock of a Monday morning. Decent starts the week there now. That's the way. Keep bodies away from fighting with the souls."
Myles holding back the arms of Breda, raising her gently to her feet. Hair down over her face. As she flings back her head and shows two burning dark eyes. The landlady rolling over slowly on her side. Vast belly and breasts shifting fatly. Her face turning upwards towards Breda and hissing coming out between her bared gums.
"I've lost me dentures Myles. That creature's lost me dentures. There. Don't step on them Myles, back of you there. Scum. Do your whoring down on the Quays where you belong. In the pestilence. Dirty filthy priest corrupter, I know all about you. Take in scum off the street and it will go out as garbage."
Breda's sharp toed high heeled foot shooting out. Kicking the landlady's upraised arm. Myles pulling her backwards as she twisted and squirmed. The muscles all tight and white in her arms. A bulging pulsing great blue vein down her thin neck. The strange momentary reflex to tip one's trilby one is not wearing to this civil landlord as he entered the bedroom nodding greeting. Henley Regatta will be soon. The Boatrace on the River. The lawns mowed and rolled smooth for Wimbledon. Strawberries and cream under the parasols. And sit in the big high backed chair between the mirrors and curling balustrades of the Ritz. To take late tea on an April afternoon, quietly reading about country life. Till the menu comes with a bottle of champagne and order escargot, steak tartar and Gevrey Chambertin. While this landlady turns slowly over on her gargantuan side, drawing up her knees, her hand holding out her arm.
"Me wrist. O me wrist. It's broke. Broke it she did. I'm crippled from her. Get her away. As the changeless Christ stands before me, I'll take the kitchen knife to her if she's not out of this house before this day is done."
"Ah you're not hurt, wife, you're not hurt at all. Didn't I see it. It was a light tap of the foot.' "Dirty slut with him there in bed. Look at him will you without even a singlet on him. Myles I'm telling you now to get the garda. I'm in the urine. Pope's pee she says is it. They're both to be charged with indecent wounding and sacrilege."
"Sure all wounding is indecent but the gentleman in the bed is minding his own business. Get holt of yourself now wife. Charges are not in order now with his breakfast getting cold in front of him there on the bed."
"Them's my sheets he's lying in."
"Shut up you stupid old cow."
"Speak to me like that will you vermin. I'll have the knife to you."
"Now ladies please. Do away with the discomposure. The gentleman in the bed is red faced with embarrassment. Barging in here like this. Turning his breakfast into a tumult."
"Barging is it. That vixen tore open the door dragged me into the room by the hair and flew at me throat like a wild animal. With the piss everywhere."
"Ah Breda sure meant no harm."
"You say that when your wife lies here kilt before you."
"Nonsense now. A wee little tumble. Sure we can put a lid on this perplexing drama with a good cup of tea."
"Blood, you see the blood Myles. Me dentures wet in the disgusting urine."
"Ah to be sure, to be sure."
"Her teeth did that. Blood."
"Sure blood is no worry if there's plenty more where that came from."
"You listen to me. If she's not out of this house lock stock and barrel, by noon this day. She'll be in the courts and prison where the likes of her belong. Selling herself on the street, showing her wagging backside around this house. Enticement. And him there too in the bed. Who are you."
"Now woman enough. Sure the gentleman in the bed will think we have no manners at all."
"What do I care what he thinks. Rolling in lust with that trollop."
"Now for the sake of peace and didactics. Have a bit of control of your conversation. Can't you hold your tongue and have some charity. Breda take no mind. A most unfortunate discomposure have we here. Best soon forgotten by all. Wouldn't we be the better for it. In God's holy name. We learn by our mistakes. And who hasn't made a mistake in his time. Sure sometimes the whole of our lives are mistakes. Aren't we trying to mend them. To get from day to day. Can't we now in this room take a page out of the book of Matt Talbot, that saintly man."
Myles imploring his eyes up and down to heaven. The wife struggling to her feet. And suddenly charging like a bull. Breda twisting from Myles' arms. As the lowered head of the wife hit Myles himself mid on in the stomach. Driving him backwards into the corner of the room. Breda leaping on the landlady's back.
"I'm being savaged Myles."
"Ah God you've taken the breath out of me? woman."
Breda's hands tearing open the back of the landlady's dress. Foundation apparel somewhere snapped. Or was it the crushing of plastic teeth. As the cupboard door swung open. And divers garments mixed in the melee. The landlady turned leading with her left hand and in one clawing sweep tore off Breda's dress. And the latter's small fist came crashing smack between the landlady's eyes. She went backwards landing on the breakfast tray, her ample arse spread across the cold greasy eggs and rashers. The pot of tea knocked over. The spout pouring somewhere. The little leaves drying on the blanket. And Balthazar B hiding a withdrawn head against the bed board under his white long arms and long fingered hands pressed up to his face. The landlady's shout near his ears.
"I'm scalded with the tea."
"Didn't I tell you to put a lid on this perplexing drama, didn't I tell you that woman."
"I'll cut her throat, I'll get this fork into her."
Breda one hand up across her breasts. The other holding out the broken top of a milk bottle. The women crouched. Moving forward and back. Bumping the dresser, bumping the bed. A black cat flitted by through their legs and stopped to shake its paws of pee.
"Sure let them men see your tits, go ahead now Myles there you are, there they are to be seen, you've been wanting to see them scrawny things on her long enough and there they are now. See them. Have a good look."
Myles making a swift sign of the cross. And holding up his two hands in the air. The landlady inching a left foot forward. Breda shaking the jagged glass up and down. Balthazar lowering his fingertips beneath his eyes.
"Come and get it you sow. Just take one step. Just one and I'll rip this glass across your throat."
"Myles. Myles. Just keep your eye on the man in the bed behind me. Frightened she is of the knife. Look at her. She's not so sweet and pretty now is she."
"Ah God in God's holy name now stop. It's gone far enough. Before you're both slaughtered. The man's breakfast is ruined. Sure isn't he trying to hide his eyes from this impudicity. As a professional publican I urge a settlement between the two parties. Now sir, in the bed. What do you suggest to that now. A settlement, what."
"I'm sorry, I'm just awfully ill."
"Did you hear that now. Your man here is awfully ill. Have respect now. For a man ill with his breakfast smashed all over him. It's a sickening enough scene already. Now neither of you make a move. I've had enough of this murther. Just stand as you are. Give us the cutlery woman."
"I'll give her the cutlery. In her guts. I'm dripping blood."
"Sure we all are."
"Myles there you. Don't let her get out the door. You taking her side while I'm wounded.' "Ah no one denies duplicity but there's lots of iodine for everybody. I'm moving around here now to bring a halt to hostilities. While any of us are still alive at all."
Myles pushing past the open cupboard door, moving across and slowly down by the side of the bed. His nervous hands opening and closing. A white fleshline around his t
hroat. Groping and feeling. His eyes on the silent antagonists. My God he's hooked somehow into the bedclothes. Pulling down from me. One clings desperately in fever. And like Beefy. To the hope of sunny tinkling terraces of the London season.
"Excuse me."
"What's that sir."
"You're caught in my covers."
"Ah I beg your pardon, sure I didn't know I was pulling the bedcovers off you. I'm so distracted with the trouble. I'm sorry. It's a confused moment we have here. Sure stay there safe now on the sidelines. It's a bit cramped for manoeuvering. But I'll have this over. Please God. Give me the didactics. And we'll have a suitable settlement here. It's the use of weapons has me bothered. What harm a fingernail or a fist but cutlery and jagged glass. There'll be malicious murther. Women will you listen. Neither of you move now. And we'll see if we can't fit some sense in between you. Sure the panic is over. I can't give the infallible remedy here. But it's time for a temporary composure. We've shook ourselves free of hatred now."
"I'll dig this one's eyes out."
"O God woman hasn't enough goodwill been squandered by this reckless hate."
"Look at her. Take your last look of her. Let that excite you now. As it's been over the weeks. Don't think I'm not wise. And then plaguing me to put your thing in."
"That's improper, wife. I'll not allow that talk. In front of a stranger now. Sure lay down the arms and come to a settlement of the grievances."
The two females eye to eye. Weapons held aloft. Breda holding over herself a garment grabbed from the floor. The landlady suddenly quaking. Dropping her knife and pressing her hands up to her face. She turns and rushes out the door with a howling wail. The landlord going to Breda to take the bottle from her hand. She pulls away and flings it crashing through the window.
"Ah that's satisfactory enough. Opens the window a bit. Dry things out. A breath of fresh air coming in will cool it off. Will anyone have a smoke now."
Myles looking from face to face. The packet of Woodbines held out. A cool sweet sea air filling the room. As Breda and Balthazar shook their heads no.
"Do you mind if I have a puff. I'm sorry you've suffered the present interference and interruption. It's the missis' way to get things out of her system."
A crash from downstairs, sound of breaking glass. The watery plop of bottles exploding. Myles putting his head back and perking his ears.
"Ah let the situation run itself out now. Again apologies. I better get down there. From the sound of that last one, it's valuable stock being destroyed. Ah God, there they are. On the floor. Smashed so's you wouldn't know they were teeth at all."
Myles bending and reaching under the cupboard. Picking up the membrane pink and ivory white dentures. Holding them between his hands as he clacked the twisted uppers against the crushed lowers.
"Ah these have had their day. Wouldn't be able to chew the cream off the top of a bottle of milk. And you know, it shows you now. Just to give you folk an example of a case of come uppance. Your woman when she married me had an awful resentment as I was with a full set of me own natural teeth. And she couldn't abide it as she was without real ones of her own. She wasn't satisfied till I went to the dentist down there over the way and had every last one of mine torn out of my head and a set like her own put in. Here are hers now. Just look at that. Sure you never know where justice will strike next."
To bring
A good
Laugh
Where there
Was so much
Maim.
20
Four thirty o'clock Monday following Trinity Sunday the summery month of June. After embattled weeks of waiting. A somber Professor Elegant came down the steps of the Examination Hall. Crossing the clean knobs of cobbles to the two figures leaning against the granite stone of the Campanile. The air all perfumed with the new mown green smell of grass. Laughter of students peddling by. Professor Elegant looked at the two sad faces and said he was sorry, the appeal had failed.
All these days of hope. Sitting through the golden afternoons the window open of one's room. To hear the glad carefree voices passing below. The white pop of a tennis ball. Students calling out college gaieties through this week of June. Taken away from a leafy square that I've come to know. The beds of flowers. Daisies twinkling in the sun. And a forgiving Fitzdare. Who said please, please, you must still come. And stay with me in the countryside as we planned.
Rumours all over college. Snickering behind some hands. Little huddles as one goes by. And faces whisper turning to watch as one was past. Breda came riding on a bicycle. I smiled. I saw her from my window looking as she passed each doorway reading up and down the names. Until she came to my entrance and I heard her little knock on the door. She found a situation in Cabra. And wanted to see me now to know I was cured.
Horace brought us tea. And she had a new black coat. And stared around the rooms. And looked in books. And I gave her an armful of movie magazines. And as she sat there was another knock on the door. And in came Miss Fitzdare. Who stood and smiled to say she only stopped a minute. And Breda said she was going now. They each left quickly after the other.
And Breda said ah God how money can make you beautiful, and if you're beautiful already money can make you supreme.
I bought Breda a jewel. Flown from London and sent her by messenger in a blue velvet box. A flawless emerald big as a cashew nut, cut like a heart, on a platinum chain. She wrote a neatly printed two penny postcard in reply.
Thursday
June
Cabra
Dear Balthazar,
No one has ever given me anything like jewels before. Or even anything else I could ever call a present. This is to let you know that I would rather have you than this gem, just in case you didn't know. But as we are of opposite ends of society it wouldn't do to prolong the agony I feel. You didn't have to give me anything. This situation here is worse than my last. And I would as soon be out of here and suffering instead in pagan England.
Always yours if you ever wanted me.
Breda
Beefy disported back and forth. Unmindful he said of worldly shames. I asked of the great deed box stuffed with money. He smiled and said you'd never believe. And he introduced me to a blue black complexioned man in Front Square. Who read silently his Greek and Latin to bring them back to Africa. And had never been known to speak one word in all his time at college.
"A very shy chap is this black fellow. Sat next me for months. Would only grunt or squeak. But we became awfully good friends. And then one day he handed me a bit of paper. On it written a word, sometimes two, sometimes three. One day it would be Sure Footed. Another time The Bug, Fire and Ashes, Mr. Motto, or Dandelion. I always smiled thankfully just thinking poor chap had his brain fried too long by the African sun. And next day I'd meet him grinning and shaking his head up and down. And I'd do the same. Until one day I saw an evening headline, Blue Danube Wins Thirty To One. There it was on my little piece of paper Blue Danube neatly printed out that morning by my friend Zutu. From then on I've put two fivers on every horse he's tipped."
Through these last days. The university cricket match. College races in College Park. Trinity Week Dance. Fitzdare asked me to go. Instead I got drunk and incapable. Hammering on Breda's door in Cabra where they said she'd left the day before. All across college, smiles on all the faces and sorrow on my own. Horace came that last morning as I was packing.
"Sir it's been a privilege and pleasure to be your servant. I just thought I'd let you know. You can't help getting kind of used to someone over the months. And I'm sorry now to see you go."
Two great steamer trunks packed and locked. Standing in the middle of my empty sitting room all addressed to London. A lorry came and four men carried the heavy weights down the dark stone stairs on their backs. And with a suitcase I went to the hotel up on Stephen's Green. Paying my last college bill on the way. Eighteen pounds eight shillings and eleven pence. For servant, milk, gas and electricity consumed, chamber rent, a
nd commons fund. The amount increased by seven and six, a tardy fine due.
To watch as I have before out across these green trees, the distant slated rooftops and reddish chimney pots, to the purple mountains in the morning sun. All the mirroring windows and doorways around the square. And a letter from my trustees.
The Temple,
London, E.G. 4
Dear Mr. B,
Your letter of the twenty third instant to hand in which we are informed of your decision to follow a career in the breeding and racing of horses and further that a suitable property is urgently required for the pursuit of same. We do not at this time wish to set obstacles in your way but it is incumbent upon us to advise you to continue your studies at university. Also, having regard for the long experience necessary to successfully pursue the above occupation we would be remiss in not pointing out the grave and expensive risks in such undertaking. Furthermore, a castle and five thousand acres with deer park, having regard for outlay for stock as well as the high upkeep and considerable wage bill involved to maintain such premises in a good state of repair, could be crippling and therefore we are duty bound to take a position in the matter of advising in the strongest manner against. And we would look forward to a further and different word from you in respect to your plans.
Regarding the incident of your trespass, a settlement has been reached for the payment of two hundred pounds, fifteen shillings and four pence (£200.15. 4) damages and costs and the matter is now at an end.
Yours faithfully,
Bother, Writson, Horn,
Pleader & Hoot
Beefy waved the letter gently in the air. He stood in my long narrow sitting room as ducks from the pond of Stephen's Green flew past the window as they did at ten fifteen every morning.
"My dear boy, but of course you must rear and race horses. You must. What a jolly fine outdoor idea. Newmarket. Good hunting country. Everyone randy for miles around. Eminently sensible. Profoundly suitable. Fitzdare. I mean a great horsewoman. Two of you. Set up together. She's a good mare, would foal a few little ones. Plus, my dear boy, her stallion Dingle. Every time that chappie covers a mare you can spend a fortnight in Nice. Of course my own trustees are being very shirty. You know how one gives one's acquaintances a friendly goose up the arse as they mount or dismount horse or motor. My trustees are vastly and continuously goosing me. Not nice. I am steady in morals, elegant in manners. No peeing in bedroom basins. And still they doubt me.'