The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [68]
"Them?"
"Yes."
"But, Mary, I'm a man of refinement"
"But they don't do that."
"And they're not refined."
"It isn't that."
"I'll give you another one."
She put her arms around his back, tight and tied.
"It isn't the way they do it"
"Do you like it?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"I want to take you away."
A noise came through the ceiling. Mary stiffened, holding her head back, listening. She whispered.
"Give me your hand."
She led him to the back of the hall and down two steps behind the stairs. They waited and then she put her hand up into his hair and scratched. Good for dandruff. O the tenor of it in this hall. The safety of it Mary, your mouth and tomato sauce.
"Sebastian is a funny name."
"Venerable."
"What?"
"That's what it means. Deserving of honor and respect"
"You're funny."
"Eeeee and eeeee and eak."
"You're a gas man."
"And you're a great build of girl."
"You're just saying that."
"O you are. Right here. Lovely. And there, too. You're just great all round."
"It isn't safe here."
"Where?"
"We could go in the back. We must be quiet."
Some light at the end of the passage. Passing a line of broken prams, great for transport to the pawn. Could pass by any landlord Must have the wits these days. I'm starved for love. Not ordinary love but real love. The love that's like music or something. Mary's a good strong girl for heavy work. Scrub floors and things. Get her and a house that's a box for the soul. And I'm fed up with the cardboard type. If I got Mary as the maid. Chris as the boarder. Miss Frost as secretary and Marion to run the whole lot, we'd be a great bunch. Then take my proper place in society, suits overhauled and the rest. O there'll be changes made. I won't take any nonsense either, or concede carelessness. At least I have rules. And I know society respects a man for his discipline.
She was holding his hand, leading him. At this early hour in the morning. I must get home. And out of these dung smells. Mary pushed open the half broken door of a shed.
"Mind the bicycles. In here."
"What's that?"
"Coal."
"For the love of Jesus."
"What's the matter?"
"What's this, Mary?"
"A mattress."
The clatter of a falling broom. Mary whispering with fright:
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph."
And Sebastian, to be helpful.
"Pray for us, Blessed Oliver."
"It'll be all right. Would you like a bottle of stout?"
"Mary, I'll love you till your dying day. Where is it?"
Mary reached behind boxes and turf.
"It's the landlord's. He hides it back here for when the pubs shut His wife raises holy murder if he brings it in the house."
"This is good of you, Mary."
"Do you say a lot of things you don't mean?"
"What?"
"What you said"
"What did I say ?"
"When I said I had the stout"
"Come here and sit beside me while I open this bottle"
She came and sat on the mattress beside him, leaning against the wall, watching him with a flourish of wrist, pop the cork. We lay in the remnants of coal And a pile of turf. I happen to know that dogs and cats prefer coal and turf. And I don't relish finding myself sitting in it
"This is peace, Mary"
"It's quiet here"
"I need this, Mary"
"Why?"
"Lot of reasons. Little difficulties here and there. Misunderstanding mostly. A girl like you is a great comfort"
"It's not very clean or nice here"
"Come closer"
"I don't know what to say to you"
"I'm married"
"I know you are"
"I say, Good God, Jude, Joseph and a general variety of the blessed and saintly"
"But I don't care if you are. I don't think I'll ever get married"
"Don't"
"Why?"
"Might marry an Irishman"
"What's the matter with an Irishman?"
"They come home drunk and beat your head off. Jump on your arse every Saturday night and prod you to death with it Other nights too. Pigs. You don't want that Mary."
"I might"
"Far be it, then, for me to give you advice. Get me another bottle of stout."
"You drink fast"
"Got to with the lack of decency around us, Mary."
"What do you do?"
"Read law"
"Outside that?"
"Gardening. Collect stamps, horse brasses. I'm very interested in bird watching.