My Uncle Oswald(48)

“No problem,” she said. “It was easy. With Woresley I had had the most awful fight, but this time it was as easy as putting a tea-cosy on a teapot.”

“Then what?”

“They’re pretty odd, these royals,” Yasmin said. “They know a few tricks we ordinary mortals have never heard of.”

“Such as what?”

“Well,” she said, “for one thing he doesn’t move. I suppose the theory is that kings don’t do any manual labour.”

“So he made you do all the work?”

“I wasn’t allowed to move either.”

“Now don’t be silly, Yasmin. You can’t have static copulation.”

“Kings can,” she said. “Wait till you hear this. You won’t believe it. You simply won’t believe this sort of thing could happen.”

“What sort of thing?” I said.

“I told you I had chosen a chaise longue covered in purple velvet,” Yasmin said.

“Yes.”

“Well, it turned out I’d picked exactly the right one. This damn sofa was some sort of specially constructed royal romping ground. It was the most fantastic experience I’ve ever had. It had something underneath it--God knows what, but it was some sort of an engine, and when the King pulled a lever the whole sofa began to joggle up and down.”

“You’re having me on.”

“I am not having you on!” she cried. “I couldn’t make that up even if I wanted to, and you jolly well know it.”

“You really mean there was an engine under the sofa? Did you see it?”

“Of course not. But I heard it all right. It made the most godawful grinding noise.”

“You mean a petrol engine?”

“No, it wasn’t a petrol engine.”

“What was it then?”

“Clockwork,” she said.

“Clockwork! It’s not possible! How did you know it was clockwork?”

“Because when it started to run down, he had to roll off and wind the thing up again with a handle.”

“I don’t believe a word of this,” I said. “What sort of a handle?”

“A big handle,” she said, “like the starting handle of a motor car, and when he was winding it up it went clickety-click. That’s how I knew it was clockwork. You always get that clicking noise when you wind up clockwork.”

“Jesus,” I said. “I still don’t believe it.”

“You don’t know much about kings,” Yasmin said. “Kings are different. They get very bored, therefore they are always trying to think up ways of amusing themselves. Look at that mad King of Bavaria who had a hole drilled in the middle of the seat of each chair around his diningroom table. And halfway through dinner, when all the guests were sitting there in their wonderful, expensive clothes, he would turn on a secret tap and jets of water would squirt up through the holes. Very powerful jets of cold water right up their backsides. Kings are crazy.”

“Go on with the clockwork sofa,” I said. “Was it amazing and terrific?”

Yasmin sipped her champagne and didn’t answer me at once.

“Did it have the maker’s name on it?” I said. “Where can I get one?”

“I wouldn’t get one,” she said.

“Why not?”

“It’s not worth it. It’s only a toy. It’s a toy for silly kings. It has a kind of shock value but that’s all. When it first started up I got the shock of my life. ‘Hey!’ I shouted. ‘What the hell’s going on?’

“‘Silence!’ the King said. ‘Talking is forbidden!’

“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.’