“‘You really think so?’ I said.
“‘I know it,’ he said. ‘She’s as pure as the driven snow.’
“‘Now, just you hang on one second there, your Majesty,’ I said. ‘Haven’t you heard all the naughty rumours?’
“When I said that, Oswald, he whipped round as though he’d been bitten by a scorpion.”
“Jesus, Yasmin, you’ve got a bloody nerve!”
“It was fun,” she said. “I only meant it as a joke.”
“Some joke.”
“‘Rumours!’ the King shouted. ‘What sort of rumours?’
“‘Very naughty rumours,’ I said.
“‘How dare you!’ he roared. ‘How dare you come in here and talk like that about the Queen of England. You are a strumpet and a liar, madam!’
“‘I may be a strumpet,’ I said, ‘but I’m not a liar. There is, you see, your Majesty, a certain equerry at Buckingham Palace, a colonel in the Grenadiers, a fine good-looking fellow he is, too, with his big black bristly moustache, and every morning he meets the Queen in the gymnasium and gives her keep-fit lessons.’
“‘And why shouldn’t he?’ snapped the King. ‘What’s wrong with keep-fit exercises? I do them myself.’
“I looked at my watch. The nine minutes were just coming up. Any moment now this tall proud King would be transformed into a randy old lecher. ‘Your Majesty,’ I said, ‘many’s the time George and I have peeped through the window at the end of the gym and seen–’ I stopped. I lost my voice, Oswald. I just couldn’t go on.”
“What happened, for God’s sake?”
“I thought I was having a heart attack. I began to gasp. I couldn’t breathe properly and a sort of goose-pimply feeling was spreading over my whole body. I really thought, honestly I did, I really thought I might be going to kick the bucket.”
“What was it, for God’s sake?”
“That’s what the King asked me. He’s truly a decent man, Oswald. Half a minute before I’d been saying beastly insulting things about his in-laws in England, and all of a sudden he was deeply concerned for my welfare. ‘Do you wish me to call a doctor?’ he said. I couldn’t even answer him. I just gurgled at him. Then all of a sudden this terrific tingling sensation started in the soles of my feet and it spread quickly all the way up my legs. I’m getting paralyzed, I thought. I can’t talk. I can’t move. I can hardly think. I’m going to die any moment. Then wham! It hit me!”
“What hit you?”
“The Beetle, of course.”
“Now wait a minute . . .”
“I’d eaten the wrong goddamn chocolate, Oswald! I’d mixed them up! I’d given him the plain one and eaten the Beetle myself!”
“Jesus Christ, Yasmin!”
“I know. But by then I’d guessed what had happened and my first thought was, I’d better get the hell out of the palace before I make an even bigger ass out of myself than I already have.”
“And did you?”
“Well, that was a bit easier said than done. For the first time in my life I was finding out what it felt like to get the Beetle.”
“Strong stuff.”
“Terrifying. It freezes your mind. You can’t think straight. All you’ve got is this fierce throbbing sexy sensation pouring all over you. Sex is the only thing you can think about. It was all I could think about anyway, and I’m very much afraid, Oswald . . . I couldn’t stop myself, you understand–I simply couldn’t stop myself . . . so I . . . well, I leaped off the sofa and made a dive for the King’s trousers. . .”
“Oh, my God.”
“There’s more to come,” Yasmin said, taking another gulp of brandy.
“Don’t tell me. I can’t bear it.”
“All right, then, I won’t.”
“Yes,” I said. “Go on.”
“I was like a madwoman. I was all over him. I caught him off balance and pushed him down onto the sofa. But he’s an athletic kind of bird, that old King. He was very quick. He was up in a flash. He got behind his desk. I climbed over the desk. He kept shouting, ‘Stop, woman! What’s the matter with you! Get away from me!’ And then he really started yelling, yelling out loud I mean. ‘Help!’ he yelled. ‘Someone get this woman out of here!’ And then, my dear Oswald, the door opened and the Queen herself, little Queen Maud in all her glory, came sailing into the room holding a piece of needlework in her hand.”