But by god, things came to a head one most absolutely marvellous evening. On the occasion of a large dinner party when forty eight guests were invited. Along with a small string orchestra. Candelabra were lit, and all the staff mobilized with two extra staff called in. Even I in the absolute emergency of the moment was delegated to lugging wines from the cellars and pulling corks. Naturally with one’s substantial knowledge, one privately paused to sample these mediocre liquids. With Smears up in the pantry in an absolute dither when he wasn’t castigating the socially inferior nature of the guests or bemoaning the shirtyness of the new staff.
‘Of course O’Reilly you wouldn’t know, but these people are quite honestly the most ordinary lot I think I have ever had to preside over in my career which previously has been exclusively in service to nothing but the best aristocracy hardly any of whom was below the rank of Earl.’
I kept racing to proffer bottles that I urged Smears to taste to make sure that the contents was the wine that the big folks required, my accent later slipping badly, but not overly noticed by a progressively squiffier Smears.
‘Smears you absolutely must taste this unremarkable burgundy.’
‘I think O’Reilly you are getting far beyond your station, smart lad though you sometimes give an indication of being. I could train you up if you didn’t stink of horse piss so much.’
I kept polishing his glass and refilling it for yet another taste. There being plenty of time before the guests got from the drawing to the dining room. Since Mary the cook had blown up the whole oven by mistakenly dripping something which was distinctly not butter fat into a roasting pan. Smears got so absolutely paralytically squiffed while the oven door was screwed back on that he served the sweet directly after the soup which had maids crashing into each other retrieving courses before they were even served. With no main course at all. The master and mistress were fulminating. The former shoving his irate red round face into the pantry.
‘God damn it, what’s wrong with you.’
There was quite sufficient wrong. For meanwhile Smears had fallen down the whole flight of servants’ stairs and although miraculously unhurt he could by now only totter holding his hands out in front of him like a blind man to feel where he was going. And I by god could hardly stand up laughing. It was the most wonderful night. Especially when the electric lights short circuited and the ruddy swing door to the servants’ stair flew open with a guest, his flies undone, his penis shifted out, was there nonchalantly peeing right down the servants’ staircase. Just as Assumpta and I holding a candle and with a massive cauldron of boiled potatoes were at last heading for the dining room where the guests now, were themselves roaring drunk not having got a morsel to eat for over an hour. And stupid Assumpta not knowing what a prick looked like, was heading half way up the dim lighted stairs and confronted by the guest peeing straight down at her, at least did recognize piss and both she and the potatoes fell backwards tumbling to the bottom of the stairs. God was I laughing. My belly wracked with pain. And I fear, my feet squashing spuds. And with Assumpta hors de combat, Smears squiffed, the master finally came storming right down the stairs shouting and screaming at the top of his lungs and rushing into the kitchen where at that very moment I had eight different bottles of liquors open with Smears and cook tasting each with the uttermost blotto sincerity.
‘You damn idiot fools. Where’s the bloody roast beef the bloody main course, the creamed damn onions. Don’t you know what you are doing.’
Smears reared up nearly as if he was sober but had to lean back and prop himself up with the table. Closing his eyes between his measured delivery of every couple of words.
‘I won’t take that language from you. When I have long had, prior to coming to this place, the pleasure and privilege of serving the true aristocracy and gentry. And not people who have merely made money.’
‘You’re sacked. You’re drunk, you’re sacked.’
Smears in the most strange quasi military manner, marching out the door. And towards me the wrath was suddenly turned. With my hand still wrapped around a bottle of Crème de Menthe. But he thought the better of continuing the tirade. No doubt remembering the plight of his poor starving guests. Who if indeed they had an appetite left at all, certainly now could not care much in their blotto state.
‘You. You bring the roast beef up this instant.’
Of course outside of fox hunting and horses there’s hardly anything else in this world I know how to do, but at least I do know considerable about proper butlering. To which, would you believe it I had just been promoted. Although Mary the cook, even in her own wobbling inebriated state seemed sceptical about my sudden elevation in the servants’ ranks. Murmuring under her breath.
‘Ah it serves them right to have a stable lad bringing them their dinners.’
‘I beg your pardon, Mary, note my fine grand accent. Sure I’m as good a butler as Smears ever was.’
‘Never mind that smart lip you, Dancer O’Reilly. And get these roasts of beef up to them, sure as it is they’re all nearly a cinder they’ll be carving.’
The two hired in waiters poised to carve. One of whom during the early darkness of the short circuit I saw popping the more valuable and pocket sized pieces of cutlery into his pockets, which must have been specially tailored for the purpose, as the vast number of pieces disappearing hardly made a bulge in his coat. Any moment I waited for him to be anchored to the floor by their enormous weight. Of course the short circuit also in its way saved much more embarrassment not only for ladies who were thinking it so much more romantic in the candlelight but also because it hid momentarily the now totally rebellious and drunken staff from view. Some of the guests were rumoured very important and prominent in government and business circles. Including two inseparable Dublin actors who shouted above everyone else, and inaccurately quoted Shakespeare. And a most unkempt and inappropriately dressed Dublin poet who not only had his shoes off drying his unbelievable stinking feet under the table, but was also spitting over his arm behind him in a genuine effort it seemed to avoid spitting directly on the table. And then arms waving and roaring while the little string orchestra played lightly an operatic piece.
‘Ah jasus will you give us a jig instead of that.’
The seemingly honest hired in waiter kept nudging me unpleasantly in the ribs, pointing out the two Dublin actors.
‘Look at them will ya look at the pair of them. Sure they’d jump on you as fast as they’d jump on each other.’
The evening temporarily seemed to settle down. Except a very sweaty recovered Assumpta was getting her passing bosom felt by the poet who kept grabbing at it between his yawns and barely disguised insults levelled at his host’s nouveau riche attempts to curry favour with the true cultured members of the Irish intelligentsia.
‘Ah you’re phonys, phonys, the lot of you.’
One did shut him up however serving out a grossly overcooked slab of roast beef. Upon which he fell like a ravening dog. Gobbling it straight off the plate with the peas as well. One of which flew from his lips and popped neatly down a lady’s décolletage. He of course went after it. And she behaved as if she were being raped. Which she was. With the gravy I held over her tipped over the two of them. Astonishingly at first no one appeared to notice the poet wrestling the lady straight to the floor, so busy were they all attempting to impress someone further down the table and all leaning forward to do so. And the poet was at the lady dog style as she tried to escape under the table. Fortunately everyone was of a class who would never mix with one’s own otherwise one would be sure to be recognized. And be mortified. As the entire table lifted right up from the floor in front of the ruddy guests’ eyes. With cutlery, food and wine sliding off upon those on the downward sloped side. With the poet underneath roaring.
‘Come here now till I get that pea.’
Or you
Whore
I’ll chase you
Till kingdom
Come
2
4
The débâcle took days to calm down. With Smears barricaded in his room threatening to sue for wrongful dismissal and grevious disparagement of his capabilities in the performance of his profession. And with the extensive repairs required to where the poet had rutted, butted and seemingly pissed his way round the dining room with his shouts of yous is all whores everyone one of yous. And where now white coated I actually was serving the master and mistress these few perilous nights at a singularly gloomy table. As well as bringing food up to a bloody complaining Smears.
‘Damn it O’Reilly where’s the smoked salmon I requested. You don’t think I’m going to eat the same slops as that pair of social upstarts down there.’
I was while devouring plenty of bananas, rather enjoying it all. And one might even venture to say that there was hardly anyone anywhere who could bow and scrape with such menial servitude as I could. Is the tea to your liking madam. Is the toast just right. Of course the mistress was stunned by my seeming transformation from a horse piss soaked stable lad to major domo and there were dangerous moments when both the master and mistress thought I was taking the mickey out of them. But I do believe they revelled so much in being treated with such obedient doormat solicitude that they finally were convinced they merited it.
‘That will be sufficient unto our needs of the moment, O’Reilly. We’ll ring when requiring you further.’
‘Very good madam.’
My brief temporary status really improved my prospects in the big brown eyes of Assumpta. Who with her big bosoms, every groom in the stable yard was panting after. And in our hour and a half free after lunch, I airily took her walking. While having the dumbest imaginable conversations. With our interests utterly dissimilar. And not even agreeing on the colour of the sky. But she could gab when she got going. Of how we could go as a pair in service, me butlering, she as a lady’s maid. She had of course since I was promoted out of the stables, also elevated herself up from kitchen maid. The only dangerous thing about such thoughts was I found myself actually considering the prospect.
‘Ah now you’d be answering door to the important people arriving and I would be bringing to her her ladyship’s shoes she’d selected.’
Once we got a bit out into the woods my present randy concern for her ample body drove such plans out of one’s mind. Especially during our prolonged desperate physical struggles which went on for seeming hours. Until finally I was able to overpower her astonishingly strong flailing arms and legs to trip her down into the wet grass. To do what I could up her dress between her bulging thighs with all her kicking and praying to St John the Baptist over my still thoroughly Protestant shoulder. And as I felt, squeezed and twisted towards naked flesh, came her boring constant refrain.
‘Aren’t you the blue eyed bold lad now.’
As well as all the time saying would I marry her. After what I was doing. Which was actually ripping her pants in tatters right off her. Or else she’d have the master of the house, the parish priest, her brothers, sisters, uncles from Cavan, and aunts from Mayo who were nuns, all assemble to make me. But despite my endless wrestlings no how could I get my penis in her. And all she’d wide eyed say as I knelt muddy kneed wanking over her.
‘What’s that funny white stuff coming out of you.’
And then she thoroughly ignored me. When a week previous I had again been demoted out of the house by the arrival of a new butler. And on this Saturday noon. The sun higher, the evening light lengthening. A first hint of spring in the balmy air. And following my ninth week of hiding my wages behind a loose stone in the loft wall, and hearing that Assumpta thought I’d given her a baby by lying on top of her, I was rather just about to panic and depart altogether when the master’s big splendid motor car recently removed from blocks in the garage and newly polished early that morning, came speeding up along the drive. I could see the mistress and a young man step out just as I was collecting from the field the two enemy mares. And Tom the groom acting as chauffeur carried luggage up the steps behind them to the waiting hands of the new butler. A sheepish cowering type who sneaked and lurked around the house digging his fingers in his nose and ears while tabulating the number of bananas I made disappear. And because I regarded him with more than mild displeasure and he regarded Assumpta with more than middling lust, he demanded and was all too eagerly granted the favour of my departure back to the stables.
And late that afternoon all was silent as the rest of the men had gone off to watch a football match. Even left with eighteen boxes to muck out and horses to groom, I was at that second eminently content with the bright chirping songs of the birds in the balmy sunshine. But was, some few seconds later, standing leaning on my fork wondering quite sincerely was it time to flit. However for the sake of another meal and night’s sleep, I was about to bend to grip the worn oak handles to push this heaped barrow of straw and dung, when suddenly I felt someone there in the yard looking at me. And I turned to see a figure in riding breeches, cap and boots crossing on the cobble stones in my direction. A face with its jaw dropping about eighteen miles. And making its wearer, Awfully Stupid Kelly, look even more so.
‘Kildare. I say, what on earth are you doing here.’
‘Working.’
‘But you simply can’t be working here.’
‘I am.’
‘As a common stable lad. I simply cannot believe my eyes.’
‘And I suppose you live here Kelly.’
‘I do as a matter of fact. And good lord, I have only just this moment come back from school. And by the way where is my box of fudge. That you wretchedly ran off with. All of my fudge.’
‘I merely borrowed it.’
‘You stole it. Deliberately. Bewley’s best fudge it was too. I have a good mind to be most angry.’
‘I most heartily regret that sad incident Kelly. But I quite honestly promise as soon as circumstances allow to have Bewley’s send you another box. I needed your fudge to sustain me in the rigours of my extended cross country journey.’
‘That’s no excuse to trick me Kildare.’
‘No I suppose it isn’t.’
‘Of course I could somewhat understand your running away when the Presidium put the blame on you for the fire and the flooding. And had you told me, I would have given you my fudge. But crikey, this is indeed a most strange state of affairs. How have you got here.’
‘Merely by walking down the drive.’
‘But did you know this is where I lived. You haven’t have you, come to sponge and steal further from me. I should heartily resent it you know.’
‘I assure you Kelly had I known this was where you lived I should have skirted your acres and tried elsewhere to find employment. But as clearly it’s all a horrid mistake landing here I would ask that you do not please inform on me.’
‘I am not a rat.’
‘Well I’m pleased Kelly to hear that.’
‘But you must take off those sordid clothes and change into something respectable. I shall invite you into the house and you may then be introduced to my parents in a proper manner.’
‘That is awfully kind of you Kelly. But honestly, circumstances being what they are, I do think perhaps it might be more politic for me to remain where I am. Or your head groom will sack me. At this moment I have all those boxes to muck out.’
‘But you don’t intend do you to stay here as a lowly stable lad. You’re from the right sort.’
‘Good lord, I wonder.’
‘But you are. Why I’ve even made you an elegant leading character in my most recent play I’ve written.’
‘Well my dear Kelly that’s very sporting of you. To feature me like that. I haven’t really made any firm plans as it were. But clearly at the moment I’m rather not, what one might term, of the acceptable sort. As you may all too soon hear. Even made a shambles of being a temporary indoor servant. In fact presently I’m banished from your house.’
‘My God, you Kildare, a servant.’
‘Yes Kelly. Me
a servant.’
‘You aren’t the one then who’s been stealing the bananas.’
‘I am I regret to say.’
‘Thieving other people’s property seems to be a habit of yours. Nonetheless I shall help you. Purejoy said although you weren’t very matey you were very spunky. Of course everyone in the upper form thought you so attractive that they all wanted to bugger you.’
‘I beg your pardon Kelly.’
‘It’s exactly the truth. They of course think I’m far too plain.’
‘O no, not at all Kelly.’
‘Well they do, Kildare.’
‘Absolute nonsense. I mean I’m not suggesting that you would win a beauty pageant but you are quite presentable.’
‘No need Kildare to flatter me. I know I’m not awfully attractive. But at least you in your own way were quite kind to me at school. Although I was aggrieved you stole my fudge, I will not forget your getting me off a beating from the Presidium. But what has happened to bring you to this sorry pass. Have your family been reduced in circumstances. Mr Michael told me you come of very grand ancient landed people indeed. And that you had your own private tutor.’
‘Yes, once upon a time, Kelly. But now, however mournful and regrettable it may seem, I am but a mere stable lad.’
‘But of course you’re not. You mustn’t say that. How awfully awful.’
‘It is rather, but I fear it is the case.’
‘Well Kildare, it’s for me to help you if I can. Otherwise circumstances are going to make this a most awful holiday.’