Are You Listening, Rabbi Löw

  ‘O yes. My apple bag here will do. O my. If I have a sou left I think I might have oysters tonight on Boulevard St Germain with one of those nice big glasses of beer referred to as a Serieux.’

  ‘Jesus shit that just sent a real pang of homesickness for Paris through me, Binky.’

  ‘Welcome to join me Schultz sit on my knee on the train.’

  ‘Boy for two cents, no shit, if I didn’t have this crisis, I’d go.’ ‘Schultz, I read history at Oxford, managed to achieve a modestly good degree in fact. I disclose this not to thump my chest or crush laurels down upon one’s head but only to reinforce my own faith in the observations I must now make upon my lot in life. It might be said I stand upon a precipice. But I rather prefer to see it as standing at the crossroads. A windy one at that. With four possible directions I might take except for the fact that three are already blocked. By the way, folk on the Isle of Man actually go and sweep the crossroads when the world seems against them. But I am without a broom. And for me my escape is not without romance. In the sense that the one road left points to a reentrenchment upon the Continent. And indeed in the direction a once famed poet took in not too dissimilar circumstances.’ ‘Yeah well your circumstances look to me like they are insane.’ ‘And Schultz you are, you know, an ever surprising surprise.’

  ‘I’m a surprise. Holy fuck, each second I’ve been here in the last hour you’ve jumped something new at me, so that I’m not even thinking of the catastrophe in New York. Except that I can’t forget it. Or what stepped up the steps of my house this morning.’

  ‘Well I won’t enquire as to what went up your steps this morning but pity Schultz we haven’t the evening ahead together to have a moment to take a glass of champagne at Claridges. And to listen there sentimentally to their marvellous little Hungarian quartet.’

  ‘Jesus Binky. Fuck Jewels. Fuck the New York production. Fuck Al. I’ll tell Rebecca to cancel the taxi. I’ll take you in my car to the station. What the fuck maybe it’s appropriate that as you’ve tried to screw me in every deal we’ve ever done that maybe this is fitting I see you off to exile.’

  ‘Ah beautifully put Schultz. You get more lyrical and romantic by the second. Dear me, dare I even think we might be described as friends. And gracious me. The lady in the window. Giving us a topless dance. Rather pendulously flapping aren’t they Schultz. O dear she must be one of the desperately aspiring people we’ve had to turn away from auditions. Such can be the really sad moments. People still who as yet unaware of one’s demise, approaching one, putting their best foot forward, hoping one will bestow upon them stardom.’

  The shafts of afternoon sunlight beaming through the whorls of dust and Binky with the charred end of a ruler disturbing the embers of paper in the grate and ceremoniously dropping another paper into the flames. Phone ringing and Schultz with a lightning grab reaching across the pile of jewellery, to snap the handpiece off its cradle.

  ‘Yeah. Who’s this.’

  ‘This is Daniel downstairs sir in the limo. The coast is completely clear as a whistle that would blow a tune for you to march from here the long way round back to Tipperary. Come down at your leisure.’ ‘OK Daniel, you’re sure.’

  ‘I’m as sure as a certainty is sure.’

  ‘Thanks Daniel.’

  ‘Ah Schultz Daniel is a rather unusual name, one does not hear that often. I do believe it stands for God is my judge.’

  ‘Well in this case Daniel stands for danger is my speciality. And let me tell you he is distinctly dangerous.’

  ‘Ah, do tell. What a comfort to know. As I’ve just this moment dropped my last writ served upon me into the fire.’

  ‘O boy Binky, what do you say. It’s time to go.’

  ‘Dear me. Sadly yes, it is. Do take the jewellery Schultz and when I have departed out the outside door, give Rebecca those two baubles.’ ‘These two.’

  ‘Yes. And do add that trinket you’re examining.’

  ‘This is by Faberge. Jesus I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing but I’ll do it. Fucking hell talk about crossroads this is more like the Tokyo stock exchange after news that Wall Street has just collapsed.’ ‘Ah yes Schultz one looks now for the calm sensible shafts of sunlight on one’s life. Or as my sister might say in her fluent rubbish. My dilemma really nearly is really ordinary and not really extraordinary.’ In the dim light of the doorway to the landing, Binky kissing Rebecca on the cheek as she suddenly throws her arms up around his neck, squeezes, and her hands clutching at his jacket she suddenly lets go. Her grey eyes red. Binky patting her affectionately on the head as he moves away out on the landing. Schultz taking Rebecca by the elbow into her small office. She steps behind her desk, her chin and lips trembling and her hands up to the sides of her face.

  ‘Mr Schultz O Mr Schultz this is so, so god bloody awful. So just god bloody awful. Sorry about the language.’

  ‘Honey this might just all be temporary.’

  ‘It’s not. I could overhear on the telephone. At the last minute, everyone to whom he turned. People he had helped, done favours for, wined and dined, one after another, said no to him. No. They said no.’

  ‘Honey, they got to do that. It’s the first principle of show biz, is to swim away from the sinking ship or else you get pulled down with it. OK now. It’s going to be OK. Just sit down here. Situations like this take a steady hand on the tiller. But right now these are yours. Find somewhere fast that’s safe to keep them. They ain’t paste.’

  ‘O god he must keep these. Please. He has to. He hasn’t a penny. All he’s got is his ticket and a few French francs. And it will never take care of him. Who will take care of him now.’

  ‘Jesus kid it’s going to be all right, don’t you worry. Binky’s after all, a show biz battle hardened tough trooper. I’ll see that he’s OK. He’ll be next to me in the car. I’ll shove enough money in his pocket. Don’t worry. I mean in two seconds he could be walking back in here with the whole town kissing his ass again. Now take these pieces of jewellery and fucking hide them till you go home. And excuse the language. I’ll be back in an hour. You keep the home fires burning honey. If New York rings, I’m in my car. Don’t let anybody, and I mean anybody, in. We’ll fight them.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Schultz. Thank you.’

  Schultz and Binky pausing at the last landing, tiptoeing to peek over the stair banister. Blocking out the daylight, Daniel standing splayfooted in the entrance way. His big gorilla long arms folded across his medals and massive chest. As Binky and Schultz step out and Daniel takes Binky’s valise and bows them past. Following them across the pavement and rushing ahead to open the limousine door. Binky sniffing the perfumed interior and picking up the telephone to listen. Daniel slamming his door, turning back to look over his shoulder.

  ‘And sir now in what destination would we direct the three hundred horsepower.’

  ‘Daniel jesus, you did a good job. Now fast. Victoria Station please. This is Mr Sunningdale here.’

  ‘Top of the middle of the afternoon to you Mr Sunningdale.’

  ‘Daniel did the bailiff turn up.’

  ‘He did indeed sir.’

  ‘What happened.’

  ‘Not a thing sir and he hardly had the time to tell me a thing either sir.’

  ‘How come.’

  ‘Well you know now he was in such a hurry that so he wouldn’t lose his hat in the rush I stuffed it in his mouth, tied his hands behind his back with me tie missing now from me throat and popped him temporarily in the big dustbin, put the lid on it and before I had a chance to put it back in under the stairs there for the purpose, wasn’t it collected and taken away while I was distracted in the midst of another loud altercation.’

  ‘O my god.’

  ‘You see, a woman out of the building across the street tried to gain entry. Made an indecent suggestion she did. Said she wanted to see sperm productions. And as I was on me guard duty I said not likely at the moment.’

  ‘You did the right thing Daniel.’


  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  Schultz pressing a button and the glass division rising up across the limousine. Binky humming a tune and beating a rhythm on his knee with his fingers to the sound of pipes and drums.

  ‘Dear me Whitehall this afternoon is looking so nice Schultz. The Admiralty. Horse Guards. My listen. And look. Rehearsing Trooping of the Colour. My what a glorious sight to take with me Schultz. Do hope all’s well with the Prime Minister just up that unprepossessing little cul de sac. Always amazes persons from overseas that our empire is run from such a simple unpretentious habitation. And dear me. The Abbey. O memories. That day too when Lord Nectarine took his bride in there. And Schultz you did I believe come stumbling into the vestry your top hat crushed, your tie on backwards, fly open, your shirt front ripped, having broken through a police cordon without your invitation.’ ‘Come on Binky for Christ’s sakes. This is serious what’s happening.’ ‘Ah well Schultz. It is along this Victoria Street and in and out the back and beyonds of these narrow laneways that my little lady and I do walk in our cherished and only too brief moments together. She’s a great believer in the sensible shoe. And in the mackintosh. Indeed in that pub there we would sometimes stop to have some bitter ale with one of those hard boiled eggs they dip in something savoury.’

  Daniel parking the car under the great canopy of Victoria Station. Pedestrians staring and a bobby making way for the vast limousine. Smell of exhaust. Queues of taxis. Roar of buses. Daniel handing Binky’s valise to a porter. Inside the station Schultz shoving pennies in a machine for a platform ticket. Binky standing by, beaming a smile. The rhythm of his walk as if he were on a parade ground. And humming to himself Waltzing Matilda. Holy christ Rabbi, sorry so much has been happening that I haven’t had a chance to talk to you. Cruising down Whitehall a sprinkle of rain was falling. Just as Jorricks predicted. Last time I was going somewhere on a train I was in purdah. Now I’m entrusted carrying a fucking fortune for the guy who was my worst enemy. Which jesus, he’s handing out to women. Ah Sigmund, but they are loyal women to whom he gives such gifts. Jesus Rabbi, that means I know one and could even meet the other. That could make two loyal women in this world. Sigmund who knows keep looking you may find three. Or even four Rabbi, but who’s counting.

  Binky climbing up into car K. Mailbags being loaded on the adjoining platform. Whistles and chugs of trains leaving the station. Carriage doors slamming. Schultz talking up to Binky leaning out the open window.

  ‘And Schultz as I head off in the direction I’m going, I’m sure I’m already wearing an expression of slight dismay. You are of course acquainted with that slightly apprehensive look the strictly upper aristocrat gets while far from his club and fireside and wondering what the fucking hell he is doing out among foreign woggish and common looking pedestrians.’

  ‘Jesus Binky, please for Christ’s sake watch it will you.’

  ‘Of course I shall Schultz. You know I did in fact try to ring you last week on urgent business. But at what appeared to be the most inopportune time of eleven o’clock in the a.m. Your deadly serious butler informing me that as you were retired to bed you would be asleep till three thirty o’clock in the p.m. And do, please do, give my dear lady a little peck upon her cheek for me when you see her.’

  A woman behind Schultz on the platform tapping his shoulder to get by. Binky opening the train door. An announcement over the loudspeaker.

  ‘The special boat train is about to leave from platform four. All aboard please.’

  ‘Goodness. It’s you Mr Schultz.’

  ‘Yeah. Hey who. Holy mackerel. Matron. Jesus.’

  ‘How are your balls, Mr Schultz. O dear forgive me, I am sorry. I mean your testicles.’

  ‘Gee they’re fine.’

  ‘I saw your absolutely splendid show four times. And took my nephew and niece. And you’ve not forgotten have you. I believe we were to take a glass of champagne together.’

  ‘Gee no I haven’t forgotten. Hey let me give you a call. And hey let me introduce you. This is Binky Sunningdale. Matron is from at the hospital where my balls got sewn up. I mean testicles.’

  ‘Delighted Matron. Delighted to meet you. And to know you may have attended upon Mr Schultz’s very private and we hope, still procreative spheres. We were all so worried about them. Knowing they meant so much to him. Here let me help you on board.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m on my way to see my parents who live in Newhaven. My father’s had a fall and is also rather bronchial.’

  ‘Well Matron I’m for that stop as well, which I do believe is the last. Might I have you for a drink while Mr Schultz’s invitation is pending so to speak.’

  ‘Yes. Please. Do. I am in seat thirty two. Mr Sunningdale.’

  Whistle blowing. From the shadows of the station the light of the sky southerly out upon the tracks. The last carriage door slamming. Another whistle sounding. A green flag waving. Train slowly pulling away. Inside Binky waiting in the train corridor. A smile on his lips as he blows a kiss through the glass of the window. His blond locks forward over his brow. Eyes amused in their blue. And now he’s bending over holding his stomach, laughing. But holy christ it just may be he’s feeling sick. Boy Rabbi this is really one for the books. Saddest thing is, he could feel me slipping the money in his pocket. And I knew the last thing he wanted was to take it. Jesus and now there’s Matron. God damn charming and even nice. But sad as hell in the eyes. Tragic ladies just litter the world. Sigmund, so do broken men. But Rabbi, even so. At the end of the day. And boy I’ve had some long days.

  I’m sure

  Still glad

  I’m not A

  Woman

  So

  Am

  I

  Sigmund

  24

  Schultz reaching for the rug to put over his knees as the long black limousine pulls out from the roaring noise of Victoria Station. Into an afternoon pouring rain. Motoring around the sodden grass of the little park amid these busy streets and up past the terrace of enormous grey Victorian houses overlooking the greening tips of trees in the back gardens of Buckingham Palace. The rain drops streaking the car windows. A tear falling on the money and an apple left by Binky, hidden in the folds of blanket. Holy shit some guys’ principles are hard to believe.

  ‘Fortnum’s Daniel.’

  ‘Yes sir. Ah now that’s a strange gentleman that Mr Sunningdale.’

  ‘Yeah, Daniel. He’s strange all right. Come back and get me in an hour.’

  The tinkle of delft. The white tablecloths. A painted mural scene of the Cote d’Azur behind the soda fountain counter. Schultz seated on a grey banquette at a table in the corner of Fortnum’s. A smiling waitress putting down a tray of tea and a piece of Sachertorte chocolate cake. The voices of ladies in from shopping, the art galleries, fashion shows, and jesus Rabbi probably some from talking to their solicitors. Rabbi if you weren’t already listening on the radio telephone, then let me tell you in a nutshell this is getting to be another long day. The police looking for someone of the description of Daniel. Which means another tailoring bill for another uniform. At least I got him to put away all the medals. Jesus, the awful loneliness I feel. Walking out of Victoria Station to then find the money still there I’d shoved in Binky’s pocket. I always believed the guy had no principles. Even on the way to the station as a last ditch try I asked him why didn’t he for Christ’s sakes go to his Lordship who’s rolling in money.

  ‘My dear Schultz I would, as I probably will do soon, prefer to absolutely die before imposing my woe on his Royal Amazing Grace. One must leave that old dear, who is indeed as generous as he is amusing, in peace. So that he may remain the very lovable gentle old fool that he is.’

  ‘Fool. Holy shit, he’s going to be the only amazing one left solvent after all this.’

  Schultz surveying the matrons. Each wrist with its jewels. The exquisite fabrics on every back. Not a care does one of them look to have. O boy. Crush down my lemon with the spoon. Maybe i
t’ll give me vitamin C as I take a last sip of tea. And lick my lips clean of chocolate cake. Go on living a little longer, no matter what happens. Last night I had an unbelievable dream. Priscilla cooking me my favourite chicken >with wild rice. Without a trace of strychnine in it. We lived in a pretty cottage in the country. My girls grown up in pretty dresses and I played croquet with them on the sunny lawn. Then I took a rest. I fell asleep in the balmy air, woke up and there my loving wife was putting a tray of tea beside me. The kids were singing a song together in a game with their nanny. And through a crack in my eyelids, I suddenly saw myself happy. In a blissful family setting of a contented marriage. Christ what a mirage. And holy fuck the jewels. How could I go forget what might be a half a million dollars in my pocket. Get up. Fast. Step backwards. And holy shit, what’s this now. O my god, my fucking heel is crunching down on something which is a lady’s handbag.

  ‘Jesus excuse me.’

  ‘O dear. O dear O dear. I heard something break.’

  ‘It’s me lady I did it.’

  ‘Of course you did it. I just saw you. And O dear and it is. It’s my mirror. Seven years bad luck.’

  ‘Hey no kidding, I’m sorry madam.’

  ‘Well it’s your bad luck damn you, not mine. And it’s a highly valuable irreplaceable mirror.’

  ‘OK sure. Let me pay for the damage.’

  ‘Certainly not. My lawyers will deal with it. What’s your name and address.’

  ‘Jesus madam it’s nearly six o’clock, I got to go. Seven years is nothing and I’m feeling drained and exhausted please take some generous cash compensation and let me walk the fuck out of here feeling like a gentleman.’

  ‘You dare use that language to me.’

  ‘Madam I dare. No kidding. And whoever your fucking husband was. He’s lucky to be rid of you. So long.’

  A smiling bowing Daniel at the motorcar holding the door. The waiting limousine, drawn up on the kerbstone, blocking traffic behind. Horns honking. The woman with broken mirror following Schultz out through the tables and with a pad standing on the entrance step taking down the licence plate of the limousine.