“I’m going to let you have it!” I shout. “You rotten bastard! I’m going to knock some sense into you, you putrid piece of shit! I don’t give a damn about any scenes, you hear me?”
Ah! I’m furious! I think his odour’s to blame more than anything… and nobody else smells a thing!
“You lousy bastard!” I light into him. “Get your rags up out of that chair! You ham! You slimeball! Let them see where you crawled out from! I’m not some little girl, you filthy turd!”
That’s the tack I took.
“Tibet! Tibet!” I keep repeating. “Tibet’s exactly what you heard!”
I want him to know!
“So it bugs you, does it, you asshole? You scumbag?”
And then I look him right between the eyes, stare hard right into his sockets… I want to see if he’ll strike back… Ah! He’s tr… tri… trilling for a second… doesn’t know what’s happening… surprised by the attack… But he snaps back quickly, that piece of grave dropping! At the top of his lungs he belts out! Let ’er rip!
And through the holes in the roof
The sun shone down upon us…
And in passing flashed to all
A bright little smile… smile… smile!…
It’s a quatrain from the Second Empire!… He whispers it in my ear… followed by another couplet! And then two!… And then he’s back on his pet subject… our trip, what else! Our damned trip! Ah! It’s eating away at him!…
“It costs an arm and a leg, Ferdinand! An absolute arm and a leg! That’s what it adds up to!…”
He’s emphatic on that point.
“Do you have five hundred pounds, Ferdinand? Huh, do you? You little bugger?”
I’ve got no answer for that. He caught me off guard.
“Well, you can’t leave then! Nothing’s more expensive than ships! Plus the dishes! Plus the rest of your ménage! Can’t do without dishes on the other side of the world! And a skiff for trips across the waves!”
Little cabin boy, sail on!
The wind is pushing you on!
His voice scratches, screeches, screws up… pure hell on the ears… and he wants everybody to join in… conducting with a fork…
Little cradle, little skiff,
For trips across the waves!
Ah! What a birdbrain! He whacks his skull, maybe to knock loose another bright idea? No, something that slipped his mind!
“What thoughtlessness, my sweethearts! Why, the cradle is life!”
And he’s off on a lullaby, mushy at present, a nanny.
Beddy-bye, my cuddly little buddy!
Followed by a big swig of bubbly!
Time for your milkie!
Clever move! Ah! So fine and dandy he is, the blithering idiot stiff! Cooing to the angels! A delight to see him so carefree!
And he has a few other funny tricks up his sleeve! A big announcement!
“But I’ve got a cradle, you little scamp!” He’s talking to Virginia.
“Cwadle! Cwadle!” he’s lisping, non-stop… “Cwadle!” Now he’s in a frenzy of exultation… Over the idea of his “cwadle”… I try to put a stop to it… he reeks something fierce when he starts fidgeting around…
“Enough! Enough!” I order him. I try to think up a reason… “You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“All! Hurt! Hurt! Just listen to him!” He points me out to the audience. “The nerve of the guy! Ladies and gentlemen! The nerve of him!”
No chance for me now but to swallow my words.
The girl’s found some great consolation, she’s dishing herself out some strawberries and cream, with mounds of sugar… he drowns it all in champagne… a concoction that goes right to your head!… And she’s already tipsy! They’re having a ball! The little hell-raiser!… Now she wants grapes… he’s got to go dig up some! He rises, crosses the entire room with that robot-like tread of his… his walk makes the people laugh… he’s doing a famous routine… mimicking Buster Keaton… the disturbing comic back in those days… He returns to his seat, full of himself… the kid stammers, she can’t stop…
“What’s ‘ménage’?” she asks him… the word he used a while back… she didn’t understand “ménage”: “‘Ménage’… ‘ménage’? ‘Ménage’? What is it?”
“‘Ménage’? But come, come! Home sweet home! Darling, dearest Virginia!”
Ah! How fine and dandy! Such perfect timing! He’s peeling her grapes… The pair are as thick as thieves… each as bouncy as the other… it’s a champagne romance! A duet of bubbly laughter… his, a shrill hoarse rattle… hers, a rippling warble… she’s fidgeting around on her little behind in delight, wildly mischievous… I look real smart… he’s shaking, jittering his whole bag of bones, constantly laughing at his own dumb jokes… I look like even more of a jerk-off dummy just sitting there like a lump, grouchy, maybe I ought to start fidgeting around too, carrying on, snappy and wisecracking? Toss out a few digs! But he shuts me up, shoots straight up in his seat, raises his glass to our health. He’s going to make a toast… while at the same time his whole head’s ringed with a glow, glittering like fireflies…
“Spare a few coins!” he shouts… “Money, money for the kids! A few coins for the lovebirds!”
But it was just a trick! A hoax! He was loaded with dough, so he bends down and whispers in my ear.
“Money, you bet, buddy, loads and loads! All these people around here don’t have a clue what it’s like! Numbskulls! Numbskulls! Chumps!” He flicks them away with a wave… “They’re nobodies!”
And he starts jiggling again, so worked up he sets the whole table rattling… he’s getting a crazy kick out of all this… and the kid’s right behind…
“Strawberries, Ferdinand! Strawberries!” she offers me… she doesn’t know what she’s saying…
Wham! It’s all over, on to something new! He doesn’t want to stay another second! We’re clearing out, and fast!
“Bill! Bill!” he commands. And make it snappy! I hardly touched a thing, I couldn’t get that stink out of my mouth… the girl did us all justice… I glance at the check, what a whopper!… With both arms he digs deep down in his rags over his belly… right against it… he brings out a big bundle of notes from the cavity deep inside… pounds sterling… digs back down, rummages around… now comes back up with fistfuls of wadded dollars… he tosses the whole pile on the table…
“I’m loaded,” he squeals. “I’m loaded! I’m fat, my children, though I don’t look it!”
He fills two plates with sterling, a jumble of notes, Banque de France francs… all damp and sticky icky…
“And now for some gold!” he announces.
All heads turn at the word… he’s hoodwinking everybody, that’s obvious… you had to see his magic act… the way his hair lights up, well, his excuse for hair, that sort of bristle… teeming inside, swarming, maggots of light… his putrid phosphorescence… I had my jaw in my lap I confess… he keeps yanking out fistfuls of gold… brutally turning himself inside out… coming up with another plateful, then another… Can you beat that! Small heaps of louis d’or… and the waiters’ eyes big as the plates! Now that’s prestidigitation!… A black magician! And these gold mines for a tip! Genuine louis in teeter-tottering piles… it’s dirty money for sure! He can afford to be generous! Where he’d dig up that Klondike? All from his trousers? Clever bastard, what an operator!
“You’re more fun than a barrel of monkeys!”
That’s what the child tells him. He’s a hit! He’s never been in more brilliant form! Or jiggled so much! And it still isn’t enough! She razzes him! Css! Css! He’s got to come up with some more treasures… hunting around real deep… he works himself into a fury, digging like a dog in the roots of a tree… he comes back up with everything… more cash, more sterling… more twenty-franc pieces… he flings them all up to the ceiling… and now his tour de force: he tilts his hideous kisser in the air and snags the louis on their way down… swallows them… then he fetches them back
from his trousers… with both arms rooting inside… shows his whole body’s hollow… shows everybody he’s walking openwork… what an extraordinary stunt! The child’s tipsy, she doesn’t realize, she’s red, crimson… what terrific work! She’s carrying on something disgraceful… her skirt hitched way up… exposing all her thighs… she props her feet on the wall seat… they’re both going ape…
“I’ll call you Punch!”
“Mr Golliwog, if you please!”
“No, I’ll call you Lord Ten-Paw!”
That’s the way they banter back and forth. A shower of gold! A shower of gold! And such laughter! The customers are crawling after the riches, I see them on all fours pecking away! Now they’re attacking me… I mean, my two cocky friends… Because I’m putting on a face, I’m a party-pooper, that’s how they think I’m acting… some jealous bum.
“Look at Ferdinand!”
I don’t look well, naturally, but I’m not about to split my sides, go into stitches over such shit, such crapola from some putrid cut-throat, a freak on the loose from some graveyard! Ah! Dirty son of a bitch! That guy really riles me… and turns my stomach! I’m ready to black out from the stink, that’s what I think about his cleverness! And I’m fighting back! Fighting hard! Doesn’t the kid smell anything?
“Don’t you smell anything, little girl? Take a whiff, for Christ’s sake!”
Ah! She can really make me as mad as hell, that depraved piece of jailbait, that bitch! She absolutely infuriates me… she doesn’t pick up a single hint… she’s sloshed, simple as that… I’m such a killjoy, me, a killjoy! That’s what they keep repeating… She can go right ahead and get it on with the bag of bones, get plugged by Lord Maggot since she’s so nuts about him! All women are sluts from the day they’re born.
“So let’s get going then! And shake a leg!”
I’m sick to death of their hare-brained whims. I’ve laughed enough for the time being. I think I’ve had plenty to drink too, when all’s said… I needed a few, and of the bubbly… to help me beat the stink… I’m not used to liquor… in any case I have a good view of those thighs… Virginia’s, I mean… like a young boy’s, strong, muscular, pink, solid, that about does it. So maybe I’m drunk, but I’m level-headed… I’m not some sex fiend… wonderful thighs, I’m telling you, magnificent specimens… but the little girl’s nasty… a sly minx from the day she was born, it’s in her blood… and debauchery turns her on… the monstrous wham-bams… that’s what it’s all about! That’s the snag! I saw it all with my own eyes, her and Curlers! The sideshow! I’ve really had an eyeful today! An experience of hitting rock bottom! Thighs like that… ten… twelve years old… Curlers is fifty… a good guess! With a solid-grey, hairy ass! Ah! What a fine home sweet home… home sweet whores! Depraved and cunning!
“I’ll call you Golliwog!”
I heard that! Maggot’s worst promises! Virginia, my sweetheart, she’s the heartbreaking angel in the flesh, Cupid with his arrow ripping apart my guts… these aren’t war wounds, but far more agonizing tortures… and I don’t want to see the rest, goddamn it! His complete bag of magic tricks! First off, let’s blow this joint! He stinks too much indoors and he’s thrown away enough louis d’or. Me, a killjoy? What damned nerve! I’m the happy-go-luckiest of the gang! Just wait and see, my little errand girl! My limbs’ve been pumped full of lead, but I’m still the funniest guy of the bunch! You can’t have a good time without a few drinks! Me, jealous? You won’t get any fight from me! Whoever wants to, come and get my tramp! I’m suffering, I’m an open wound, that’s a fact! Plus my agony saps the strength from my injured limbs… but I’ll laugh last some other time! During some other fireworks display! Some other war that’ll reduce the world to ashes! That’ll last and last and go nowhere for centuries on end! Ah! I won’t act shy then! At the first shot I’ll be general! Now I’m feeling pretty crummy, still up to my antics but without much pizzazz, I couldn’t even throw a tantrum… I’d only be able to manage a little nibble out of my sassy brazen vixen, from under her little chequered skirt… with my own eyes I watched the way Curlers sunk her teeth in, and she didn’t act shy… a little fling in broad daylight and in full view of everybody in the square… both wriggling around, getting a big bang… another second or two and she would have made off with my little devil… right in the middle of Leicester, and that’s no lie! The girl’s skirt hitched all the way up!… And me cuckolded in the bright sunshine… chequered skirt… they were positively wild about each other… so shameless, fast and loose they set your mind on fire… and I was like a sleepwalker! And those raw visions kept flaring up at the drop of a hat… I felt like screaming! Ah! I had to quit thinking…
“Come on! What the hell’re we doing?”
I get up. Enough already! Let’s leave! I start heading out.
“What’re you hashing over in there, Mr Millionaire?” That’s the line I take with him… “Endless!…” I want to show I don’t give a damn about guys like him.
The fact is he doesn’t want to move a muscle. Slowly he sips his coffee…
I’m sure I’m smelling like a corpse too on account of being so up close, pressed together… constantly rubbing up against him… I sniff sniff, they’re the ones poking fun at me… they must think I’m some bumpkin who jumps at every boo… they glance at each other, sort of uncomfortable… I don’t give a damn, I’m determined. He’s aware who he’s dealing with.
“So, you both leaving?”
He’s back on the attack.
“To the ends of the earth, Frère Jacques!”
Can’t let him get it into his head that I’m going to chicken out! I’m more determined than ever, and how! He wants to wear me down with remorse, knock me over with sighs! Ah! Poor daisy! He’s going to find out how tough I can be! The old glow-worm’s underestimating me! I’ll do anything to save my vixen! Anything to rescue her from this evil spell, from the skullduggeries of the catacombs! Ah! Trickster from the crypt! Just step outside and get lost! And leave us alone, you glorified bag of bones! Outside, I said! I’m willing and loyal! I want my idol all to myself! I want to ravish her! Kidnap her! Take her away with me! Rescue her from temptation! I’ll kill whoever stands in my way! Whether he glows in the dark or not! Goddamn asshole! To the ends of the earth I said! I’m burning up with excitement! And it’s not the wine, it’s the thought, the feeling, the hot rush of indignation, of love!
“Didn’t we both promise we’re leaving? Didn’t we, Virginia?”
She’s got to come out and speak her mind, the flighty thing! Oh youth, youth, what a headache! Innocence, what a load of crap! Never too young to put me in my grave! I want her to promise this very instant! I beg her, implore her… we’ve got to settle this once and for all… plus she should dump the creep herself… and not in ten years but pronto! Let him go shine somewhere else! Let him go dig up Nelson and Pépé, and Achille while he’s at it! They’d make one hell of an act! All! The glow-worm stiff! There’s the door! No luck! He’s stinking us up, that’s what he’s doing, he’s making us sick!
“Tell him, Virginia! You tell him yourself! Yank him off! Send him packing! Tell him what we think!”
I say it loudly on purpose so he’ll hear me…
“I’ll crush you,” he snaps back. “I’ll crush you!”
He picks up some huge strawberries and smashes them on his plate… little red blobs…
Ah! Let him drop his hints, he doesn’t stand a chance!
“You’re just a lousy bastard!” I shout.
“Oh, Ferdinand, what’s bugging you? Come, come. Cool off! Show some self-control!… Cool off! Cool off!” he creaks, trills… “You really want to cool off, Ferdinand?”
And that sets him off again, he’s tickled to death. I didn’t rub him the wrong way… on the contrary, he’s never been more full of piss and vinegar… full of plans… and dirty innuendos.
“I ran into you, my darlings, and I’ll never let you go! You just wait and see my wonderful present! Promise! I
swear! A treasure, my angels! Say you’ll accept!”
And damn if he doesn’t start glowing… phosphorescing for all he’s worth… his rags, his head, his hands… and plus he’s back wriggling and jiggling… a transport of delight! And the stink it kicks up, funky knockout…
“The most wonderful trip on earth! That’s my present, my pets! Yes, on earth, and I’m an expert! On earth up and down and all around! It’ll be a treat! No more Underground, Ferdinand! No more Underground ever again in your whole life! I’ll rescue you from all Undergrounds!”
Jeez, that’s a hot one! Funny enough for a solid five minutes of bone-cracking chuckles, every limb going like a castanet.
“Just ships from now on, honey! Cabins padded in silk! Cabins! No fuss and bother at night! You’ll come into love, little one!”
A little couplet for a laugh.
I’ve got good tobacco
In my tobacco box…
Christ! He’s so sneaky! Couldn’t be more pleased with himself… hands out cigars all around, now he’s rooting around under the table… the table moves, jerks… he’s tickling Virginia’s thighs… she lets out little squeals, but doesn’t move away… he even tries to give her a little smack in fun! He’s happy as hell! I look real bright plopped there, some old grouch… he’s back to nosing around… rooting at random underneath… he grabs my leg… I bend down, take a look, it’s her he’s hunting for… she’s doing her kittenish number, giggling, exactly like in the square… revolting sleaze…
London Bridge Page 24
