“There was a loud whirring noise coming from underneath the damn sofa and the thing was vibrating most terribly. And at the same time it was jogging up and down. Honestly, Oswald, it was like riding a horse on the deck of a boat in a rough sea. Oh God, I thought, I’m going to be seasick. But I wasn’t and after he’d wound it up a second time I began to get the hang of it. You see, it was rather like riding a horse. You had to go along with it. You had to get the rhythm.”
“So you began to enjoy it?”
“I wouldn’t say that. But it does have its advantages. For one thing, you never get tired. It would be great for old people.”
“Alfonso’s only thirty–three.”
“Alfonso’s crazy,” Yasmin said. “Once when he was winding up the motor, he said, ‘I usually have a servant doing this.’ Christ, I thought, the silly sod really is crazy.”
“How did you get away?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Yasmin said. “You see, with him not having to do any work except winding the thing up now and again, he never got puffed. After about an hour, I’d had enough. ‘Switch off,’ I said. ‘I’ve had enough.’
“‘We go on till I give the order,’ he said.
“‘Don’t be like that,’ I said. ‘Come on, pack it in.’
“‘Nobody gives orders here except me,’ he said.
“Oh well, I thought. I suppose it’ll have to be the hatpin.”
“Did you use it? Did you actually stick him?” I asked.
“You’re damn right I did,” she said. “It went in about two inches!”
“What happened?”
“He nearly hit the ceiling. He gave a piercing yell and bounced off onto the floor. ‘You stuck me!’ he shrieked, clutching his backside. I was up in a flash and starting to put my clothes on and he was jumping up and down stark naked and shrieking, ‘You stuck me! You stuck me! How dare you do that to me!’”
“Terrific,” I said to Yasmin. “Marvellous. Wonderful. I wish I’d seen it. Did he bleed?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care, but I was really fed up with him by then and I got a bit ratty and I said, ‘Listen to me, you, and listen carefully. Our mutual friend would have you by the balls if he ever heard about this. You raped me–you do realize that, don’t you?’ That shut him up. ‘What on earth came over you?’ I said. I was getting dressed as fast as I could and stalling for time. ‘Whatever made you do a thing like that to me?’ I shouted. I had to shout because the damn sofa was still rattling away behind me.
“‘I don’t know,’ he said. Suddenly he had become all meek and mild. When I was ready to go, I went up to him and kissed him on the cheek and said, ‘Let’s just forget it ever happened, shall we?’ At the same time, I quickly removed the sticky rubbery thing from his royal knob and marched grandly out of the room.”
“Did anyone try to stop you?” I asked.
“Not a soul.”
“Full marks,” I said. “You did a great job. You better give me that notepaper.” She gave me the sheet of palace notepaper with the signature on it and I filed it carefully away. “Now go pack your bags,” I said. “We’re leaving town on the next train.”
15
WITHIN HALF AN HOUR we had packed our bags and checked out of the hotel and were heading for the railway station. Paris next stop.
And so it was. We went to Paris on the night sleeper and arrived there on a sparkling June morning. We got rooms at the Ritz. “Wherever you are,” my father used to say, “when in doubt, stay at the Ritz.” Wise words. Yasmin came into my room to discuss strategy over an early lunch–a cold lobster for each of us and a bottle of Chablis. I had the list of priority candidates in front of me on the table.
“Whatever happens, Renoir and Monet come first,” I said. “In that order.”
“Where do we find them?” Yasmin asked.