Schultz directing the taxi driver to turn down the garage ramp. Getting out at the bottom of tax dodgers’ towers. Pressing the security code on the door. Seven four six. Some numbers you never forget. Entering this basement hall. Taking this elevator up. Stepping out on and crossing the soft carpet. Don’t lose my nerve now, in this familiar alcove, ringing the doorbell. Door opening. And now being pushed closed. Right on my foot.
‘O it’s you.’
‘Who else honey do you expect when you won’t talk to me on the phone.’
‘I’m sorry I’m not letting you in. It’s late.’
‘Honey for christ sakes. Come on. I got to see you. If it’s the last thing I do in this world which in my case is in turmoil.’
‘Take your foot out of the door.’
‘No. Not till you let me in, or I’ll stay here all fucking night till you do.’
Door opening wider. Louella standing in her satin blue outfit. In a cloud of musky perfume. A lace collared white blouse. Schultz walking in. Candles burning reflecting their flames on the gleaming polished wood of the table set to dine. The night time sky of London. The red green and yellow dots of pretty lights in the darkness out through the windows.
‘You can’t stay.’
‘Honey you look gorgeous. Hey boy, what a wonderful smell. I haven’t had dinner, what’s cooking. OK so you won’t tell me what’s cooking. You don’t mind if I sit here a second and look at you. Couldn’t I have a drink or something.’
‘I’ll get you a drink.’
‘I’ll have a brandy. A little soda, a lot of ice.’
‘And then you’ve got to go. You’ve got exactly five minutes.’
‘Jesus honey what’s all this timing for. You know we could have a whole long lifetime together.’
Louella disappearing out into the hall. Sound of her heels clicking on the hard kitchen floor. Schultz lounging back on the tweed sofa. The lights on an aircraft beaming across a black sky. Time to adjust the balls. And calm the alarm bells ringing in my brain. After the saga of another show biz crisis. What peace to find. Just to be here. Even if another phone is ringing like a chirping bird in another room. Red lights flashing on a console there on the desk. Al if he’s still alive is set up here like it was the centre of a whole nation’s war operations. Telexes and jesus let’s see that’s six phones in this room alone. One more than when I was here last time. No wonder he needs a light flashing to tell which one is ringing. And if all these fucking phones went ringing at once it would give anyone a heart attack. Christ that could be him calling. To announce in his own sonorously sepulchral tones that he has finally and successfully died and to get ready to read his top billed obituary in Variety. Or more likely to say he’s resurrected from the grave with a hard on. But jesus to date he must have platinum coated carborundum gaskets for a heart the way he stays alive. Holy fuck it takes a long time for it to sink into people that they are a fucking nuisance in the world. As much as I did love Al and would like the old bastard in his new toupee to be my friend again. How do I knock sense into this girl I love. If she’s going to be impossible to fuck now while Al’s in his death throes what’s it going to be like when she’s overcome with grief. Dressed ready to kill, she must have secretly known I was coming to see her to have got dinner ready. The table set for two. She’ll play hard to get for a half an hour. Then wilt right into my arms like a flower as I blaze on the charm. After dinner it will be bed. Slowly as fucking hell will she peel off her clothes. Slowly as fucking hell will I kiss each bare patch of flesh revealed. Slowly as hell will I tickle the tip of her nipple with the tip of my tongue. Sigmund I’m listening. Be careful you don’t break the stitches on your balls. Jesus Rabbi let me tell you. Who could give a fuck about stitches. What a cunt she has. The soft lusciousness into which you so silkenly slide and glide not even knowing you’re in there until you’re there without even a push or a shove. Then like it’s Hosanna in the fucking highest like a glove it grabs you. Even after Catherine and her nice limbs. I keep remembering back to that night up here. Sinking into the most comfortable eternal bliss. Before Al tried to chop my prick off with a bread knife looking like a meat cleaver for the occasion. Even having had a strange geometrically accommodating fuck so recently in Scotland, I’m still so hard up for another so soon. Jesus but it was even worse before my balls got zapped. I was buying a toothbrush in Harrods, and if the supervisor hadn’t suddenly come along, I would have grabbed the girl assistant who was dying for it, and screwed her right there on top of the glass counter. Would have been one more added to the sad number of women I have had to fuck. Starting at my precocious age of twelve. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. By the time I was fourteen it was one, two, three, let’s see. Carol, Joan, Jean, Sophie, Tania. Down the backs of alleys. Behind garbage pails. On apartment building rooftops. Even once up a tree. If I’m counting they added all up to seventeen before I was twenty two. Now I’ve forever lost track. Except that when I started to fuck older women I got the clap twice. And in false alarms thought I had it four times. But not one cunt out of the past has ever been like this creature who is just a few steps away in the other room tinkling a glass with ice cubes. The one night crescendo pleasure of a lifetime. But jesus look at that. What money does to women. And power. And being able to invite them somewhere to a celebrity packed gathering. Then they’re all slathering at the mouth to go, and leave some other poor slob they had a date with in the lurch. And look at Al’s fucking four gold discs hanging between five genuine modern impressionist wall paintings. How could she fall for someone so past his prime, if he even ever had a prime which I doubt. I guess Al’s royalties on those schmaltzy compositions of his pouring in in crescendos are prime enough. God Rabbi. I’m apoplectic tonight, so desperate to fuck her. I got to be saved from this screwing. Saved. Don’t worry Sigmund. This venereal plague Binky and his Lordship tried to scare the shit out of you with is now really coming. And that will do more than scare the shit out of you. You’ll be lucky to be even left alive to live in celibacy. Hey Rabbi, I had that nightmare pulled on me once and I’m not falling for it again. So Sigmund, don’t fall, join me soon. At least the kiss of death is sweet when it comes in the crescendo pleasure of a lifetime.
‘Here’s your drink, and sorry that was the phone.’
‘Holy christ what’s with the tears honey now what’s happened.’
‘Al is dying. It’s certain. They expect it now at any time. The whole Hollywood Press Corps are outside the hospital.’
‘Hey honey now take it easy. Al’s been dying constantly like a needle caught in the groove of a broken record. That’s nothing new honey. And if he hasn’t croaked in all this time he’s got to be getting better. Plus anyway, shit if he did die, think of the funeral. I’ll fly you there first class to wherever it is. All his celebrity friends, and Hollywood notables, with the world’s leaders, presidents and kings, there.’
‘Please stop.’
‘Honey, please, sit down. I know how you must feel. Hey what about some music or something. Try my hand on the piano there. And you know. I remember exactly back to what you were wearing that night. A brown tweed skirt and green cashmere sweater. And jesus how could I forget when I saw what was revealed when you took them off. We even played Al’s Palm Beach concerto. But I like even more what you’re wearing now.’
‘You can’t stay. I really think it would be best if you left right now.’ ‘Hey can’t I even finish my drink. OK honey, I’m sorry I’ll change the subject. And I’m not going to force my company on you. But we can’t leave our lives just like this. If Al throws a seven tonight and we fly out to LA to watch him go through the curtains of the crematorium tomorrow or the next day. That’s it. Just a bunch of smouldering cinders left in a burning hot oven. Then honey, you got your own life to lead. So why not start leading it now. And jesus, it’s worse anyway if he ever survived. I remember I told you already you could end up pushing him around in a wheelchair, an oxygen tent over his head worried that
he was going to blow himself up lighting one of his cigars. Come on honey, let’s go right now in there on the bed for some nookie. I’m dying to fuck you.’
‘You would wouldn’t you, pull the most low down dirty trick you could ever pull on Al.’
‘Hey shit honey come on, how’s he ever going to know.’
‘I thought your balls got knocked off.’
‘What.’
‘Binky Sunningdale said you were jumping up from sitting on the lavatory to answer the telephone and that your testicles got caught and had to be later surgically removed in the hospital.’
‘I caught them in a zipper. That fucking cunt. The fucking things I assure you honey may be stitched up but still hang in there.’
‘Well I’m glad to hear that but I want my private life to lead. You wouldn’t mind would you please, soon going.’
‘You know honey I think you’re hiding something.’
‘Whatever I choose to hide, if I am hiding anything, is none of your business.’
‘Honey sure, none of my business. It’s not like I’m a photographer present up here taking pictures or something for a double page centre colour spread featuring in a Sunday supplement. Which reminds me we could have had a lot of extra publicity if we had had a photographer tonight at the theatre. Hey honey you don’t look interested.’
‘I’m glad your show is doing well. And you do seem not to lack publicity. Your wife was interviewed on this evening’s news. About selling her story to the biggest Sunday scandal sheet of all time and threatening to mention me.’
‘O jesus honey, I’m sorry. But it’s been nothing but onslaught, onslaught. From every side. But you know what the fuck I’m going to do. And you’re the first to know it. I swear I’ve secretly been thinking of it for a long time. I should buy a fucking yacht. To escape for a prolonged holiday breather. Maybe go cruising on the Riviera.’ ‘Have a good trip.’
‘Hey come on honey. I mention it because I would want you to come with me. I can afford it. I own nearly the whole show now. Take you away from all this harassment. I swear the grapevine rumours are already going around Hollywood that the film rights are going to fetch a fortune. I mean a gargantuan fortune which could buy and sell Al three times over.’
‘You’ve actually got to go now I’m expecting someone.’
‘Honey, you’ve not have you, actually got someone else coming up here. You mean now. Tonight. This late.’
‘Yes. I have. Now tonight this late. A lover as a matter of fact. Who comes here to fuck me. And with whom I am emotionally involved.’
‘Hey holy shit hold it, hold it honey. This is some kind of joke. You don’t mean this do you.’
‘Yes I mean it.’
‘You’re serious.’
‘As serious as I’ve ever been in my life.’
‘Holy shit now I’ve spilt my fucking drink all over me. Hey and all this time you’re throwing tantrums and tears over Al croaking. And me pulling the most low down dirty trick you could ever pull on Al.’ ‘I love Al. And I’ll get you a towel.’
‘Hey honey don’t bother with the towel. It sounds like you love anyone who gives you a prick or gives you money. And not necessarily in that order. What is he some multi billionaire.’
‘If it’s any of your business and it’s not, he loves my pasta and the way I make it with my tomato sauce. He also so happens to be an assistant stage carpenter and is young vital and very ambitious.’
‘A what. What are you doing, supporting him on Al’s money. Hey jesus christ holy shit I can’t believe all this. This is too sudden. And my pants are wet. Jesus christ. All this fucking time betraying me. Me with my tongue out in love with you. Me who’s got no fucking one to turn to. No friend I trust. No nothing. Correct that. I got a smash hit. But I got no nobody I can tell something as intimate as this to and ask them what I should do. And now I can’t believe this all of a sudden. I’m well and truly shattered. There was only you all the time. And now there’s no you.’
‘You can still remain a friend and ask me for advice.’
‘How can I. Jesus, can I. Thanks a bunch baby. Boy this tonight, takes the cake. Well OK honey then give me some advice. What am I going to do. I mean loving you was spiritual. Even dreaming about holding your hand. It was just being near you. Able to think about you. Honey, you were closer to me than my own flesh and blood. It’s disembowelling me with pain.’
‘Well if it’s that bad why don’t you go get a gun and shoot yourself.’ ‘Hey. Hey. Wait a second. Just wait a second. You really mean that, don’t you. You really really mean it.’
‘Yes I do otherwise I wouldn’t have said it.’
‘OK honey. Wow. This I did not need at this moment of my life. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to go and buy a gun.’
Louella raising her chin in the air and taking a deep breath. Her satin jacket opening. Her breasts pressing against her blouse. Schultz tipping back an ice cube from his drink into his mouth. Getting to his feet. The candle flames flickering against the glass of the windows. An aircraft flying overhead. Jet’s engines reducing speed changing pitch.
Just as I am, going towards the door. That I’ll never walk through again. And pass all the international celebrities on the walls. Jesus I got born. Out of baby eyes I saw. What did I see. Rabbi I saw a whole fucking mystery. Especially a big ghost rearing up with a pair of gorgeous succulent tits slapping me in the face.
‘Hey and before I go shoot myself honey, you got any other good advice.’
‘Yes. Don’t miss.’
‘Boy don’t worry honey, I won’t. Not if I’m thinking of you at the time.’ Schultz coming out around the alcove from Al’s flat and crossing the foyer and waiting by the elevator. The rust coloured carpet underfoot in this faint pink hue of light. Historic moments and you notice even a hair you never saw before on your knuckle. And one thing is certain. That at the very exact moment you think everything is beginning to go all right with a woman, be sure of one thing. It ain’t. Come on fucking elevator. Don’t take all year, I got to get the fuck out of this building once and for all.
The lift doors opening. The light shines out. Schultz stepping in as the doors begin to close and a hand suddenly holds them back. Schultz turning around. Louella standing there. Glistening in her eyes, big tears ready to fall.
‘O god Sigmund I’m sorry. You’re not are you going to shoot yourself.’
‘Don’t worry honey I got too many other people to shoot first.’ ‘Don’t go. Come out of the elevator. I’m sorry. For all I said.’ ‘Honey all such things have been said a million times before by plenty of girls to plenty of guys and the world is still here ready for more conversations just like it.’
‘But you don’t know the full story.’
‘What’s the full story.’
‘He has another two girlfriends.’
‘Who has honey, who has.’
‘The stage carpenter. And he’s late for supper. And that nearly always means he’s not coming. Especially when he’s had to work late when the set gets broken.’
‘Hey wait a second honey. What set.’
‘O god.’
‘What set. Come on honey. What set. Not honey in my fucking theatre. Where it so happens a carpenter is required during the show when Magillacurdy breaks the frames punching and kicking holes every night.’
‘O god I knew somehow you’d find out.’
‘Fucking hell honey, you mean that fucking emaciated scruffy kid with the red beard. Jesus.’
‘O please. His beard isn’t red. It’s auburn. With flecks of orange.’ ‘I don’t give a fuck what it is. Green blue or fucking pink. With flecks of gold leaf.’
‘But I needed someone, don’t you understand.’
‘Holy shit honey. You’re promiscuous. Not only are my pants fucking wet, but this is adding insult to injury. A backstage employee. This is incest.’
‘Please. You’re married. And I’m not promiscuous. Your wife and her de
tectives have threatened me. You don’t know what it’s been like on this death vigil. With Al’s wives trying to evict me. Please. Just come back a minute. All that wonderful food will go to waste.’
‘Honey thanks but no thanks. Much as I’d like to go back and eat my employee’s pasta for him and hungry as I was, my digestion now and stomach at this moment is in complete turmoil. I ain’t got an appetite. I’m all a bit busted up honey.’
‘O dear.’
‘I’m going down on this elevator as soon as it comes up again.’ ‘Then will you ring me later please. I’m so upset about Al.’
‘Fuck Al. I’m sick of hearing about Al. I’m trying to gather up the pieces of my soul.’
‘I was saying shoot yourself only trying to be cruel and mean.’ ‘Honey you were cruel and mean. What the hell those are the simple facts of life. I accept them. Maybe not with good grace. But I accept them. And now that I know the full story, I sure should shoot myself. But who knows maybe at the last second with the cold end of the barrel against my temple I’ll figure what the hell, with money to spend, go have a ball, and I won’t pull the trigger.’
‘But were you really going to buy a yacht and go on the Riviera.’ ‘Just an idea which is maybe more a dream honey.’
‘God. That would be sunshine. I feel I need sunshine so much.’
‘Well honey I’m glad to hear that. But buying a yacht is still in fantasy land. And if I did ever get one. It just so happens I might want to be on it alone with my pigeons. Here’s the elevator. So long.’
Schultz descending. The floors passing as the numbers blink in the light. No thirteenth. London’s getting suspicious like America. And boy, talking about suspicion. With women you never know what’s coming next and when it comes, you still don’t know, and all you can do is brace yourself for it. Imagine a fucking assistant stage carpenter.