Under a white awning, candles flickering, the table set for dinner on the aft deck. Pigeons cooing up in their coop. And the sound of feet pounding from the pantry to ferry hot plates and paraphernalia in preparation for the chef’s cooking perfections from the galley. Out of the open saloon door piano music tinkling. Schultz freshly shaved and showered in his white dinner jacket, silk shirt and maroon bow tie, lighting up a cigar. Stepping out over the bulkhead of the Catherine Ahoy. Eight bells. Sounding the end of the second dogwatch.
A shooting star plunging down over the southern horizon. Moonlight reflected golden on this water. The busiest sea lanes of the world. Rabbi I struggled to get rich for this. For this right here. This washed white paintwork. These beautiful teak decks scrubbed smooth. And the fucking tears are blurring my eyes. Louella. Just like Freddie Joy. Could have jumped. What a waste. Of two gorgeous women less in the world. Maybe this for me is the exact time to die too. On my day of atonement. Just sinking away down out there fathoms deep in the dark. Into this Mediterranean’s nice million square miles of freedom. Don’t worry Rabbi, with all the good food and wine already paid for, I’m not climbing over the rails and diving in just yet. Plus, after Binky, I’ve got other scores left to settle. I’m going to get those two other fuckers Joe Jewels and Al Duke. Even if it takes me years. And I’m going to make sure all the while that I got life preservers under each armpit and one encircling my balls. And grow old gracefully. Like someone who didn’t have to work in a lingerie store starting at six years old.
Catherine in a long white embroidered voile dress, crossing the saloon and tiptoeing out on deck. Toenails bright crimson on her bare feet. A long strand of pearls around her neck. And one white kid skin glove pulled up past her elbow. Her head looming up over Schultz’s shoulder her lips whispering gently touching the edge of his ear.
‘A farthing for your thoughts.’
‘Hey jeez.’
‘O dear did I frighten you. I frightened you.’
‘Honey I didn’t hear you coming. And my mind was miles away.’ ‘What’s the matter. What’s the matter.’
‘Nothing honey, nothing. That maybe you won’t cure.’
‘Then let me stay by you. Close close. Be near, be near when you need me. And darling Sigmund. Did you know. Did you know. That from the Strait of Gibraltar to the shores of the Gulf of Iskenderun, the winds called sirocco, bora and mistral blow. Blow. Blow. And all over these seas the Saracen pirates plundered. See there, the headlands looming in the dark. Isn’t that the Isle of Stromboli.’
‘Yeah honey it must be some beautiful place.’
‘You’ve got tears in your eyes.’
‘Just the breeze.’
‘There is no breeze.’
‘Yeah. I guess that’s right.’
‘Then what’s wrong. Wrong. Bad or sad news I hope did not come on that naughty old telephone today. My old nanny used to say, to stir up animosities, is to stir up strife.’
‘Well honey, your nanny was right.’
‘Do you, I do, like Italy. Where in their gardens one can walk under the eucalyptus trees, even when the flowers are not in bloom. The wintersweet, the lavender. I was once a whole summer there. In Italy. And did then have boyfriends who did so swarm about me. While always trusting and hoping it was for me, me, and not my trust funds. I was I suppose having a rather rum time. Dear me, men do get an awful sameness about them after a while. But of course, I was but a girl child. Thinking it so excruciatingly romantic if one held a flower in one’s hand. And yet so impatient. Ready to sweep back to London to visit other galleries to look at beautiful things. And where, when pleasantly fatigued, one could repair for tea. Seems long ago now, that for such a long time, I’d turned my back upon the world. My mind not able to tackle great problems. Hoping to leave them till much later in life. And I suppose then hoping to postpone them even further still. Till one is no longer living. But now is now, isn’t it. Even though one rather lives on the verge of dying. And you see, selfish to say, but for the most part, my interest in you is your interest in me. And I must confess I do like this motor yacht and the way people do look upon us with such awe as we go floating by. Nurse says she waves to everybody and makes believe it’s hers. But what shall we do when a larger boat comes along and they look upon us with pity. Must we then, look upon them with awe. With awe.’
‘Yeah honey, yeah. Because they’re going to have to be god damn fucking awesomely rich.’
‘O dear, is all this, and all this selfish selfish pleasure, costing too much, too much.’
‘Honey you’re gorgeous. And christ, tonight I’m not going to start counting, counting. Hey what do you say we go have a little god damn champagne.’
‘I’d love to. And it does, doesn’t it, even before one’s lips touch it, sound so delicious. But can I say something first.’
‘Sure, honey. Shoot.’
‘When natural causes, cause my removal. I won’t mind being used and then discarded. Provided I am pleasantly used and then gently discarded. Although I should so hate to be just told. Go away. Go away. Be gone. Be gone. Rudely kicked out of your life. Crashing back again upon my arse. My old wonderful wonderful faithful arse. Always there to land on. But when your spirit has left me. And when you must say goodbye. As mourners do at the edge of the grave. I shall then in my illegible scrawl, leave a little note behind on my dressing table in the Queen suite. And say thank you so very much for having me and for your kindness.’
‘Hey come on honey. Who the fuck is leaving who. And you don’t have to thank me for anything.’
‘But I shall want to. Want to. And shall also want to tell you. Betray me not. And I will die with you when you die. Betray me not. And I will live with you while you live.’
‘Excuse me sir. Dinner is served.’
‘Thanks Jorricks. Thanks.’
‘And Daniel, sir, who is feeding the pigeons would request you to watch them fly overhead later in the ship’s searchlights.’
‘No problem, Jorricks. No problem.’
Schultz moving aft along the deck behind the smooth tanned skin of Catherine’s back. An oval opening down her dress. The black soft curls of her hair gently shaking and touching her shoulder blades as she walks. Towards the round mahogany glass topped table. Adorned with red roses. The pop of the champagne cork. Candle flames glimmering in their glass holders. Jesus Rabbi. Although my heart is bleeding in tears and ready to break. And I don’t want to ask questions. But can this be now like it could everlastingly be.
Sigmund
Life is a changing situation
Where always
You look for bargains
And if you find none
Don’t stop
Looking
J. P. Donleavy, Are You Listening, Rabbi Löw
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