The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [48]
"Because I don't want you in the house. This is my house and I can call the police and have you thrown out"
"For the love of God, Marion, have you no mercy? Look at me, I'm soaked to the skin"
"And you weren't home last night"
"Delayed"
"What happened to your head"
"A frightfully decent chap asked me to play squash and I busted my head on the wall. A damn good player, but I just managed to beat him"
"O get out why don't you"
"Just for playing squash? I say, let's play the game, A most influential chap. His father owns—"
"Get out I spent all day packing and moving and I'm not going to listen to you lie."
"Forgive me. It's such a nice house. Just let me look around. Are you here alone. All this ?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"My business"
"But Skully."
"You can still live there."
"O Jesus. Come on. Look, just five minutes' peace. It's got a hall. This is very nice, Marion. Can I see in here?"
Sebastian moving around the house followed by Marion, teeth clenched and silent. A sitting room with these divan beds, one of them along the wall and a definitely pre-war radio. Three chairs to sit in and a carpet and some pictures of horses and hounds racing across the wall.
"Wow."
"I'm not going to let you ruin this for me."
"Not at all. I'll leave. Just let me have a quick bath. I'll die with a case of death."
"Die, but this is my house."
Sebastian bent with inquiry looked in the rooms. A morning room with a desk and table and fire. A pleasant wooden statue with a cross on the belly on the mantelpiece. A win- below, in one of your operas. Perhaps a little chorus after each act
Down in Dingle
Where the men are single
Pigwidgeon in the closet
Banshee in the bed
An antichrist is suffering
While the Gombeen man's dead.
Down in Dingle.
Your friend,
S.D.
dow overlooking the back garden with rows of good things. Must get in here at all costs.
"Where do you sleep?"
"In there"
Marion pointed to the door.
"Let me stay, Marion. Please. I promise to abide by anything you say but I've just got to get a little security—"
"Ha. Ha"
"That's true. Just because I'm big and strong. Just look at this muscle. But it doesn't mean that I can't be stricken by the insecurity that's in it Please."
"If there is even the suspicion of drink I'm having you put out."
"You're wonderful, Marion. This is frightfully good of you—"
"That's enough of that"
"Anything you say, Marion."
"And be quiet, Felicity is asleep next to the bathroom."
"Mum's the word."
Great splashing in the suds. And after a pot of tea. Marion with arms folded, hiding her breasts from his beast's eyes and watching the disappearance of a loaf of bread and package of margarine. He put his arm around her shoulders, a hand over her wrist Naked in a blanket, he pointed to the garden, a gray weird wave of leaves.
"Marion, there's food out there for sure."
On the land
A plant
On the plant
A leaf.
This man
Ate
The leaf.
14
By the use of delusive enticements, Sebastian dug in at 11, Golden Vale Park. Several nights after ten thirty, he went by circuitous routes to i, Mohammed Road to quietly pilfer divers articles. These were carried in gray bags for parcelling stout. One large mirror was traded for a bowler hat at his broker, a ruse to avoid recognition. And arrangements made with the Evening Mail for publication of thanksgiving to Blessed Oliver.
The landladies called to tea. An elderly Protestant couple, sisters, of a class living on investments. They hoped that Sebastian and Marion would keep up the garden, because they had several rare Himalayan plants given by a cousin, a member of the Royal Horticultural Society. And they would leave their Wedgwood, finding them such a delightful couple, Mr. Dangerfield a student at Trinity, well, it really made them feel secure right from the start. And we were so upset about renting at first, the sort of people one might get these days, Dublin isn't as it used to be of course, people making money with shops and these people running the country.
Sebastian with votive eyes, their loyalist words, tender drops of balm. I am deeply delighted to be dealing with these people of Protestant stock. Their spinster eyes glistening with honesty. Yes, the front gate, clumsy boors moving their things had broken it, careless bounders indeed, have a reliable man deal with it forthwith, it's been such a pleasure to have you both. Do come again. And I'm having a load of manure laid on the garden. Bye, bye.