The Onion Eaters by J. P. Donleavy Read Free Book Online Page A

lightning speed. And twelve feet of writhing deadliness waiting to inject into one’s tegument.
    Voices in the great hall. Where Clementine tiptoes. Franz’s tripod erected in a different corner. Leaving in the one he has left four tiles removed and a pile of dug up clay. Percival standing amid a collection of luggage. A man of delicate stature and open necked shirt scratching his privates with one hand and holding a shepherd’s staff in the other. Next to him a tall, blonde broad shouldered woman, with a large head and bosoms giving the aspect of cemented masonry. To which one might take a heavy hammer and chisel. And not get anywhere. After a long sweaty battering. Quietly behind them three gentlemen with colourful ties and more of the blue pin striped suits. Faces peacefully composed, each with hands folded, looking up now and again at the distant ceiling.
    ‘Ah good person. These are my friends. Permit me. Mrs Lead Kindly Light and her husband.’
    ‘How do you do.’
    ‘How do you do. You will forgive my husband and I as you can see we are covered with spatterings from the roads. And we have been appallingly misdirected by the natives. We do appreciate your having us like this. My husband picked up Erconwald’s morse late last night and we motoreddirectly here. It is quaint. Don’t you think so dear. I do like the curve of the staircase. It’s quite clearly a later addition.’
    ‘Good person their three friends would prefer not to be introduced. And I took the liberty of suggesting to them that they be guided by your faithful Percival to chambers. I did not wish to disturb your scholarship in which you were engaged when I peeked upon you in the library.’
    Nine people to lunch. Franz showing up late due he said to changing a bit in his drill. Rose changed from red to a bright yellow dress. Mr and Mrs Lead Kindly Light kept art books open at their places. The exprisoners inquired politely if I required anything from their end of the table. I asked for the salt. Which was passed. During the three course luncheon of tomato soup, fried bacon and egg and steam pudding, Percival poured away four magnums of claret down the eager throats. I asked after Putlog.
    ‘Ah, he is, if you listen carefully playing the organ. He does so much want to create for you any pleasure and thought music throughout luncheon would meet with your approval.’
    ‘Well thank you.’
    Dinner brought the appearance of the apparition in the car. Who sat at the opposite end of the table, said nothing and stared at his plate. Candles were fuming from the … alls. Percival nudged me in the ribs in the wine cellar.
    ‘Ah God sir these are like the good old days.’
    I struck from the cellar book six magnums of claret to be had with two hares and a sheep Tim had said was so near death on the far hillside that it was a pity not to put her cooked on the table. Guests swept the mutton down leg by leg with a gurgling of claret. Erconwald and Franz partook of their own onions and watercress from the stream. And the exprisoners between helpings heaped small courtesies and flatterings upon Rose. Till Mrs L K L said you do enjoy your food my dear, it’s nice to hear hungry jaws at work.
    One felt that Rose would get up and put her large hands tightly around the sinewy neck which rooted deeply down into Mrs L K L’s bosoms now upright like heaving gunemplacements ready to send out busty salvos. I had the most painful erection under the table. Having merely put the tip of my tongue into the donkey distillate. And I watched as Rose got up, went around the table and put her hands constricting around Mrs L K L’s neck.
    Percival was serving seconds of the share. Oscar pausing in the dining room doorway with the remains of the mutton floating in the brown greasy gravy which began to slide as the platter tilted. Erconwald’s mouth open. To now receive a quartered onion. Ena pouring wine. Which she was doing down the shoulder of the silent mystery man at