Schultz

  “I like your act honey. You had some real nice moments out there. You’re the best thing this show’s got. If it had more like you, it wouldn’t be closing. I’m going to send you a script in the morning.”

  Just as Big Ben boomed eleven over Belgravia, Schultz stepped out of a taxi. Reaching for his key to mount his steps, a loud rapping of a knocker made his recently calmed heart start beating ultra fast again. A monstrous shadow was blocking Schultz’s whole doorway. A figure turning and looming above him. Big jowls quaking in the light of the street lamp on the face of Pricilla’s mother.

  “Don’t you just think you can turn your back on us. Just walk out of the hospital like that. Don’t you just think you can take that kind of attitude with me or my daughter. Just who do you think you are. You’re nobody.”

  “Hey look Mrs. Prune, it’s after eleven o’clock, you’re going to wake the neighbors.”

  “I’ll wake the neighbors alright, don’t you worry. They’ll hear how you put my daughter into hospital.”

  “I didn’t put your daughter in hospital.”

  “Do you want to hear from my solicitor. You’re going to hear from my solicitor. You left her laying on the floor. Half naked. And walked out of your house. My daughter saw you. That’s what you did. To have your breakfast while my daughter was unconscious. And everybody in this street is going to hear what you did.”

  “Holy christ lady. Come on. What do you want money. I’ll give you money.”

  “You’ll give me money. Do you hear what he says. He says he’ll give me money.”

  Schultz ducking and falling backwards as Pricilla’s mother’s furled umbrella whistled over his head. Holding on to the rung of a railing and squatting on his haunches as more swipes rained down across his back.

  “Jesus christ lady, what are you doing.”

  “I’m teaching you a lesson not to turn your back on your betters that’s what I’m doing, you cardboard romeo.”

  Schultz retreating down the steps, across the sidewalk and into the gutter. Followed by this avalanche of irate flesh disturbing the peace. And in spite of all the frontal assault something made him turn his back yet again and look up. To the third floor of the Ambassador’s residence. Just above the drawing room. Where the curtains were parted. And the Ambassador stood. His black diplomatic face grinning ear to ear. Just as a haymaker sailed home blotting out half the world seen by Schultz’s eyes.

  Arriving next noonday at the offices of Sperm Productions Schultz found his Lordship and Binky just finishing their own recent cups of coffee brewed by the comely ever attentive Rebecca in the little office pantry. These two fellow directors animatedly making their usual midday noises to the effect that they were seriously engaged corporate executives actively running their fast burgeoning show business empire and were contemplating momentous deals to be sealed at the end of lunch that day.

  “Ah Rebecca fetch in that contract with that awful man who owns that awfully over priced theatre. You know the one I mean.”

  Binky liked to pretend that his gallant banter with the winsome Rebecca, was only to make her feel at home and part of their well oiled show business team. And before the novelty had worn off, it had often been the highlight of their business day, to hold prolonged conferences on office efficiency with secretaries.

  “Ah yes, a good point that, a ceramic roller to wet stamps. Prevent the health risks of licking.”

  Or in earlier days when bored with these consultations an ad would be placed in a suitably serious but somewhat arty periodical. And new secretarial candidates would arrive. With his Lordship sitting on the crimson love seat just removed fresh out of his personal palace, as Binky enthroned himself behind the broad expanse of the fine George the Third desk not so freshly lugged out of one of his Lordship’s castles.

  “Now tell me, Miss ah, I didn’t quite catch the pronunciation of your name.”

  “Pots.”

  “Ah of course Pots, that’s P for peter, O for onanism, T for titty and S for slander.”

  “Well, I suppose you could spell it that way but in that case it might be better to simply call me Rebecca.”

  “Ah, but of course, how nice, Rebecca. Now Rebecca tell me this may seem to you perfectly irrelevant but did you play hockey at school.”

  Some of the interviewed girls were then heard running out the corridor, one screaming, another crying and another using foul obscene unladylike language. Of course this was just a little trick his Lordship and Binky were fond of playing on Schultz.

  “Now Miss Pots remember that you’re to be secretary to theatrical producers and you might be called upon without notice in an emergency to stand in for an indisposed understudy to an indisposed star. So we would appreciate if you could, in order to prove your acting potential, demonstrate to the best of your ability an adequately angry exit as if you had just been grossly insulted. We would like you to do this while passing our executive producer’s door.”

  Rebecca had played her part extremely well on the occasion. Leaving Schultz stunned in his cubbyhole scratching his black curly locks. And she had also proved rather something that the other girls weren’t, a distinct all rounder when she set about one entire afternoon cleaning his Lordship’s trousers of chewing gum where he had sat stickily in same.

  And when Schultz in those days had come out of his own tiny cubbyhole office, his Lordship and Binky lounging in their splendour would be waiting.

  “Hey what are you guys doing. I mean that was four fucking girls rushing past my doorway like they’d been really insulted or something.”

  In total and utter aristocratic astonishment his Lordship and Binky would look back and forth at each other and then at Schultz. And then again back at each other and back at Schultz.

  “Well look holy shit isn’t that right. I mean your Lordship what the fuck’s going on. I mean I’m sitting in there wondering whether to go to the rescue or not.”

  And now on this inclement noonday, Schultz back from his trauma in the hospital and his fisticuffs and umbrella battering on his front steps, had just entered the chairman’s office with his nose buried in the just published copy of a showbizz periodical. And a pair of sunglasses over his black eye.

  “Ah Schultz, just in time. His Royal Highness and I have just been discussing your production Too Too Naughty And Not One Bit Nice. Isn’t that true Rebecca.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Both his Royal Grace and I Schultz have decided to toy with a rather momentous decision. Now wait for it Schultz, don’t yet jump up on our backs screaming yippee hi o, just sit down there on our recently repaired chaise longue. That’s better. Ah but first do please let me enquire. How is your hospitalized lady friend.”

  * * *

  “Boy I’m telling you. I’m not kidding. I’m going to go queer.”

  “How sensible of you Schultz. But I say. Dear me. Is that a black eye there behind your sunglasses. What a beauty, isn’t it your Royal Grace.”

  “I ran into a door. So don’t get excited.”

  “Ah, but tell us. Your lady friend, how is she.”

  “She was with her mother and a hairdresser eating god damn caviar and foie gras in a private room I’m paying for and drinking champagne she had sent over from Fortnum’s to be put on my fucking bill, that’s what she was doing.”

  “O we’re glad to hear your lady friend’s well, Schultz. And Rebecca do please excuse our fellow director’s sometimes forceful language.”

  “She’s well, don’t worry.”

  “Ah his Royal Grace and I are genuinely relieved to hear that. You know we were rather concerned for you Schultz, as a most irate lady was on to us on the phone. We really did fear she would strike you with her umbrella or something. Ah but let us get back to business. And forget these black eyes and that scratch or two on your cheek Schultz. Now Schultz the fact of the matter is that we are examining the possibility of taking a more than substantial piece of your little show.”

  “This is a joke.
”

  “No joke Schultz. On the contrary it’s absolute gospel. Of course we expect a few preferential terms. But to those, I’m sure you won’t object. Rebecca has them down in her splendid shorthand. Don’t you, my dear.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I really don’t know what we’d do without you Rebecca.”

  “Ah you dirty cunts. You’ve heard it haven’t you.”

  “Heard what Schultz. And please. Do, in front of Miss Pots, remember your language.”

  “That I might have somebody who not only has a beautiful face and body but can really dance and sing.”

  “Dear me, Schultz one hears a lot of things in the theatre. But I can vouch we have absolutely failed to hear such rumour. Which certainly I assure you wouldn’t sway us in the least. We actually think your little show on its present merits has a chance.”

  “Thanks. But it’s no fucking rumour. This girl, you watch is going straight to the top.”

  “Ah how nice for you Schultz. How nice. We rejoice, don’t we Basil. We truly rejoice.”

  “But Jesus, the show at the moment is the least of my worries. I want to know what’s the fucking law on assault in this country.”

  “Ah Schultz, you were attacked.”

  “No I wasn’t, I was shoved. I mean this fucking girl’s mother yesterday at the hospital. She must have weighed two tons. I was so knocked out by the sight of her I walked right into the middle of an operation.”

  “And his Royal Grace and I understand that completely Schultz, especially when there she was, gorging on caviar and drinking champagne charged to your account.”

  “People don’t have morals any more.”

  “Ah dear Schultz. Do you know that that lady you describe strikes me as your ideal kind of mother in law.”

  “Holy shit, Binky don’t even ever fucking well joke about a thing like that. For christ’s sake.”

  “Schultz you are an utterly endearing cavalier stylist.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean your Lordship.”

  “Schultz I haven’t the faintest idea. But it is so refreshing to hear you talk of morals. We must also hear more from you on chivalry, courtesy and generosity. Especially as you are presently maintaining your lady friend and her mother in such high living circumstances in the hospital.”

  “Hey look, people don’t have to be eating caviar all the time. On somebody else’s bill. I’m generous for christ’s sake. And don’t worry when it’s necessary I got chivalry too.”

  “Ah Schultz, please, both his Royal Grace and I invite you to sit down. Give Rebecca a chance to catch up on the minutes of our little meeting here.”

  “Minutes. Holy shit. Stop. What are you taking evidence or something.”

  “No no. And no need to pop up and make fists at us. You see we both thought you totally devoid of the virtues of generosity and chivalry until this very moment. I mean you could have snatched away the pot of caviar and the champagne and returned it to your elegant grocery merchant Fortnum’s and said it was all a horrid mistake.”

  “Come on you guys. What’s this about an investment.”

  “First Schultz you’ll be pleased to hear that his Royal Grace and I are having lunch fetched in. So do relax.”

  “This office with you guys is always like this. Anything to waste time.”

  “Schultz. Your fly is open.”

  “It is not. Holy shit it is.”

  “Rebecca I think at this point you must leave us. Ah now you see Schultz, how often you assume you’re being humbugged. And just when his Lordship as you like to refer to him, is attempting to prevent your being embarrassed by your indecent exposure. Now I speak both for myself and his Royal Grace Schultz when I say we are most interested in a piece of your little show.”

  “O.K. come on, let’s go. How much.”

  “Ah but firstly Schultz, firstly there are a few little matters to be disposed of. And one rather major one. Now this kicking of ladies out of your house one after another is reflecting badly upon the firm.”

  “Hey what is this a fucking courtroom or something suddenly.”

  “Rather more like a court martial Schultz. Behaviour unbecoming and that sort of thing. Especially Schultz when you chuck out females and then such ladies need hospitalization.”

  “She sent herself to the hospital where she’s sitting up glowing with health in the fucking bed.”

  “Ah Schultz that may be but I fear there is to one other such incident attached a further and more serious tale. Which it is of some urgency to tell.”

  “What tale. And holy shit you guys talk. At least I’ve got principles. These are foreigners I’m kicking out. Whereas you guys send rushing past my door respectable English girls who came to you innocent looking for a decent job. And get insulted.”

  “Well of course Schultz but it’s merely that we lay down stringent standards to weed out the unladylike types.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Did you know Schultz that just the other day one bosomy youngster without the merest encouragement from myself or our esteemed deputy director Lord Nectarine here, stripped. Yes, you heard correctly Schultz, stripped. Totally without invitation I may needlessly add. And stood right where you stand not quite as hysterical as you but entirely naked to the waist before we could jump up and stop her. We implored her to put back on her clothes. Her bosoms were jumbo sized. One didn’t want so much flesh to get chilled. His Royal Grace even went to the extreme of tugging down that drape you see there crumpled upon the deck to cover her. She said most loudly don’t you dare put that dirty dusty thing on me. In the end we had to use strong arm tactics. Most embarrassing with her large things heaving around slapping one’s face. I mean of course she had, like so many others, misunderstood our letterhead and took the literal interpretation of our most unfortunate company name and thought she was being auditioned to take part in the moving photography of some sordidly disgusting obscenity of one awful kind or another. But Schultz, referring to foreigners, you Schultz I fear might be included in that category. But I’m sure his Royal Grace will agree with me, when I say that you have, haven’t you, as an American, rather made yourself at home with us here in dear old England. But please do let me put you at your ease Schultz. As you do look more than somewhat fraught this very serene afternoon.”

  “What a long load of shit I’ve just listened to. I think you guys are a bunch of fucking philanderers, that’s what I think.”

  “Schultz that’s a most serious accusation and could call for an extraordinary board meeting. By jove I don’t think we’re going to let you look any more at our pigeons sitting out there on their eggs on our roof.”

  “Fuck the pigeons. What about the investment.”

  “Ah Schultz. It must be said for you, resplendent as you are in your sunglasses and grey herringbone, blue shirt, black knit tie and those buttons on your collar tips, that you never give up. However, we do have some rather very heavy matters at hand. Now as you must know, a company is regarded as an entity separate from its members. However if one of its members is a loose moraled philanderer or worse, clapped up, then the company itself might easily be regarded as a clapped up company. And having regard for the name of ours, this simply will not do. Especially as we have already attracted the Board of Trade’s attention regarding our undesirable appellation. Ah but let me put business aside a moment. Goodness aren’t they the most marvellous aromas.”

  Lunch accompanied by a bushy browed squat white hatted Italian chef was wheeled in. A boy assistant setting the table. As Binky and his Lordship in their usual manner, again looked at each other and back again at Schultz. The traffic sounds in the street increasing at this late noon time, and Schultz taking out and tearing off his usual half stick of afternoon chewing gum.

  “Join us Schultz. Put your gum away. There’s a good chap. Sit there.”

  “Jesus christ you guys, why don’t you go out to lunch.”

  “Because Schultz we want to stay in and talk confide
ntially to you.”

  “Come on where’s this big fucking investment. More bullshit, isn’t it. Just like you give the secretaries.”

  “Now Schultz you are becoming awfully outspoken. And in front of his Royal Grace too. You really are. But what you think Schultz is entirely your own delusion. But we assure you, that neither I nor his Royal Grace are in the habit of being prevaricators. Or indeed lackadaisical with our chivalry towards ladies. It is merely that with our playful attitude towards secretaries we wish to eliminate from this hair raising business those girls who might tend to be squeamish, nerve wracked and unable to cope at a dire time. You know what show business is like, Schultz. Attracting as it does the very worst most awful sort of people. Help yourself to the gull’s eggs. And Mario do pour out for the Viscount Schultz some of your specially selected chablis.”

  “Very good sir.”

  “Hey Jesus I know you guys, you’re going to try and get me drunk.”

  “Dear me Schultz you are lacking in faith in your fellow company directors.”

  “Fucking right I am. And why doesn’t his Lordship say something, what is this, like you’re waiting to spring something on me.”

  “Schultz outside the skies have cleared. His Royal Grace will speak in due course. Meanwhile lunch is the order of the day.”

  The sun shining blazing in the window, sparkling upon the glassware and cutlery. The chef with his swift deft moves over his alcohol burners performing at his little auxiliary table covered in dishes and condiments. While the white coated boy, his hair slicked back and parted in the middle, circled serving this noble Lord and two commoner gentlemen.

  “Jesus look at you, the pair of you so fucking rich it isn’t true. I mean what do you want, isn’t it enough that you got everything in the world already, Jesus castles and cooks, that you get kicks out of making innocent working girls miserable and then me guilty because I object.”