The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [113]
So many faces to look at. Up these stairs. Her legs are extraordinary. I must ask her the way. I've got to.
"I beg your pardon but could you tell me the way to Minsk House"
"Yes, certainly. Third turning on the right."
"Thank you. I hope you won't mind my telling you you have lovely legs?"
"Well no. I guess not."
"Take good care of them now. And thank you very much indeed."
"Thank you."
I haven't got the heart to involve her. A girl like that deserves a fair chance. Her teeth bit small but even and clean and I always say give me the even and clean to dirty big ones all the time. Not a bad area at all. Must say MacDoon keeps the fashion at all costs and now that I've seen a bit of this city I think I'd agree with him there. Good heavens. That must be it. Are those lions or what. I daren't put my hand in there, might never come out again. But I've got to do it. Blessed Oliver deliver me from fangs. He said pull it. Feels like something I'd rather not talk about. I don't see a thing anywhere. Perhaps Mac is a bit whoopsie doodle in there. I know he gets up to the most fantastic things. I hear something.
A door opening and closing. A shadow passing on the wall. A figure bending over a barrel. Stuffing something in, pulling something out. Somebody say something.
"I say. I say there, Mac? Is it you Mac?"
MacDoon. Small dancing figure. It is said his eyes are like the crown jewels. A sharp red beard on his chin. Leprechaun for sure. Can't speak too loudly to Mac, else he may blow away.
"Come down, come down, come down. Down Dangerfield down"
"Mac, everybody I know these days lives down. Now why is that?"
"The times, the times. And how's your hammer hanging. Step this way, Danger. Into the jaws of strife."
There was a door with a mouth around it. Lips were red and teeth white.
"Mac, this is terrifying. Will I get out undigested."
"And unmolested."
"Mac, I'm relieved to be in London."
"Sit down. I would say you had the odd bit of angst around the eyes."
"A bit of it."
"Now tell me all. I hear they have new bells in hell."
There were two nice soft chairs. A gas fire burning a blue flame on top of which was a pot of glue. On the walls were private prongs. Large ones, medium and curved and, as Mac said, one in the image and likeness of. From a little colorful box came whimpering.
"Mac, for heaven's sake what's in there?"
"Progeny."
"My."
"Now Danger I want news."
"Well I think I can say I've come a long, a rather long way, I can see it all now. It's been hard, evil and even unfair at times. Shall we look at it that way."
"Danger, I want blood."
"Now of course there's been the odd bit of blood. A bit of that. And confusion. Marion's at Withwait with Felicity."
"To interrupt for a moment, Danger. Now I always thought that you would do the right thing and take over one of the wings of Withwait Hall. It's always been the feeling in Dublin that that would be the natural course of events. We felt it would only be a matter of time before guilt drove Admiral Wilful Wilton to suicide and that old lady Wilton would be immediately sent to Harrogate to recover from the blow while you sold off the shooting rights and became the squire of Withwait Fashion now Danger"
"Mac I agree. Death can do me lots of favors"
"And we hear old man Dangerfield isn't well"
"That's true Mac and I must say it makes me very anxious. I'm just screwed. They call me an apostate. They say I've tried to save my own rather blemished skin. Here I am reduced to accent. No hearth nor home. But being here makes me feel there's hope yet. And I'll tell you this. As badly treated as I've been I'U not forget those who gave the helping hand. Even now Tone Malarkey is down behind his battlements. I think if God ever took him into heaven he'd never get him out again. And