Dancing with the Tsars, page 21
Honor goes, ‘That kid needs to toughen up. He’s a focking wuss – and he can’t hold his drink.’
She’s not wrong, but I’m wondering is this the wisest gameplan here?
Sorcha’s old man goes, ‘So this is the strong role model you felt your daughter needed, Sorcha? This is the father who was going to have a stabilizing influence on your daughter?’
Honor goes, ‘Why don’t you fock off back to your wooden shack, you bankrupt prick? And bring your fat-legged wife with you?’
She has a point, in fairness. Sorcha’s old dear has thighs like Edwin Maka. I’m not sure this is the time to bring it up, though.
Sorcha’s old man goes, ‘These two are as bad as each other, Sorcha.’
Honor’s there, ‘Do you know why the electricity keeps going off in your so-called Shomera? Because I keep pulling the fuse out! Dad, tell them what you did to his favourite mug!’
I’m there, ‘I’m not one hundred per cent sure how it’d help the situation, Honor.’
Sorcha’s like, ‘Honor, you’re grounded. For the whole of next term. That means no more Dundrum. And no more dancing.’
Honor goes, ‘You’re not going to stop me from dancing, you stupid focking bitch.’
She’s like a South Dublin Billy Elliot – except with a filthy mouth.
Sorcha’s there, ‘I can stop you and I will.’
And that’s when suddenly Croía bursts into the kitchen, going, ‘We got him, Sorcha! We focking got him! Charles O’Carroll-Kelly just stepped aside as the leader of New Republic!’
6. The Windows of This Car were Steamed Up. Wait Till You See What’s Inside!
So I’m heading for the airport and I swing by Foxrock to collect my old man, except the front gorden is swarming with journalists and photographers. I end up having to fight my way to the front door. They’re all shouting, ‘What do you think of Constance Markievicz?’ and ‘Do you think it’s right to call any woman a cow?’ and ‘Are you prepared to resign from whatever it is you do for a living?’
I let myself in using my key and I meet the old man in the hallway. He’s still in his dressing-gown at, like, three o’clock in the afternoon. Unshaven as well, with his hair slash wig all over the place.
He goes, ‘You saw the hyena pack outside, did you?’
I’m there, ‘Why don’t you ring the Gords? They’re basically trespassing.’
‘I’m not sure how quick they’d be to respond to an emergency call from this house – given that your mother is suing them for malicious prosecution.’
‘Go and get dressed. We’re heading for the airport.’
‘Airport?’
‘Yeah, no, it’s Ronan’s stag weekend.’
‘I’m not going anywhere, Kicker. I’m sure the little chap will understand.’
‘Come on, a few days in Estepona could be just what you need.’
‘It’s a living nightmare, Kicker. I’m getting abuse online. Abuse on the phone. I can’t sleep. I can’t drink. I can’t smoke.’
‘It’ll all die down, I’m sure, now that you’ve stepped down.’
‘Not down, Ross. I’ve stepped aside – pending an internal disciplinary investigation. It was Muirgheal’s idea. She thought it might take the heat off for a few weeks. She also put out a wonderful statement saying that Charles O’Carroll-Kelly was far from a misogynist and that he’s always given women an opportunity to advance.’
I laugh. I’m there, ‘Yeah, one woman – who happens to be Muirgheal herself.’
He goes, ‘I gave your wife an opportunity too. I was the one who talked her into running for election in the first place. Come with me. Hennessy is down in the study.’
So that’s where we end up heading.
The dude is helping himself to a glass of XO from the decanter. When he sees me, the first thing he says is, ‘What the hell is wrong with that wife of yours?’
I’m there, ‘She’s not really my wife anymore. Not in the sense that I have any control over her.’
‘You could try talking to her. Bring her into line.’
‘Trust me, I’m the last person in the world she wants to talk to right now.’
He points at the old man – while still looking at me? – and goes, ‘She’s destroyed a good man. I hope she’s pleased with herself.’
The old man sits down in his ormchair in the corner. His dressing-gown is only loosely tied. He puts his feet up on the leather ottoman and I end up seeing way more of the dude than I ever wanted to see.
He’s like, ‘Sorcha didn’t destroy me, Old Scout. I destroyed me.’
‘I still say we should put out another statement,’ Hennessy goes. ‘You could say you’re an old dinosaur trying to learn new ways, while acknowledging the valuable role that Constance Markievicz played in Irish history and the fact that she’s not bovine in any way. You’ve listened to the community, you’re prepared to work on any prejudices you might have, and you’re determined to do better in the future.’
‘No, I think Muirgheal is right. There’s too much anger out there. My only hope is to sit on the sidelines for a few months, then come back a chastened man.’
‘And what about all these other women?’
Whoa!
I’m like, ‘Er, what other women?’ because this is definitely news to me.
The old man goes, ‘A woman I interviewed for a job back in 1968 said on Twitter that I called her “Sweetheart” during the course of the interview. Another woman said I put my hand on the small of her back as I opened a door for her in the Royal Hibernian Hotel in 1976.’
I’m there, ‘Jesus!’
‘We don’t know what else they’re going to throw at me. The best thing I can do is to disappear from public view for a few months, then come back claiming to be a changed man.’
I’m there, ‘You could possibly do with having a shower. You seriously smell.’
He goes, ‘I will. Your mother’s arriving home tonight – I don’t want her to see me like this.’
I’m there, ‘By the way,’ remembering my conversation with Erika, ‘what exactly is she doing in Russia again?’
He goes, ‘She’s speaking at a human rights conference – about how it feels to be the victim of injustice. You know what? I might even join her on the circuit after this.’
‘How does it work, though?’
‘How does what work?’
I can feel the weight of Hennessy suddenly staring at me?
I’m there, ‘This foundation of hers.’
He goes, ‘Well, they pay her to speak about her experiences and the good she’s planning to do in the world. Then various corporations and philanthropists and businessmen contribute money to her portfolio of charitable causes.’
‘It’s just that Erika said that the Russians aren’t, like, into human rights? She said it wouldn’t be big over there.’
‘Don’t talk to me about that girl. I heard what she said to your mother. Accused her of burning down her gallery, if you don’t mind. Have you ever heard the likes of it, Hennessy?’
He looks about as unhappy as I’ve ever seen him.
I’m like, ‘Why don’t you take that stupid wig off?’
He’s like, ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You heard me. Be honest, you haven’t had one good day since you put that thing on your head.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘Seriously, you were happily married – to Helen. You had the love and respect of your daughter and your daughter-in-law. You had all your grandchildren around you. People actually liked you. You became a dick basically from the moment you found that wig in Helen’s attic. What good is it to you now? Go on – take it off.’
He looks at Hennessy, who just shrugs.
The old man walks over to the mirror above the fireplace. He takes a long, hord look at himself – as if taking a mental picture? – then he takes a firm grip on the wig, one hand either side of his head.
He goes, ‘I’m using a very strong adhesive. I think the only way to do it is to give it a good, firm –’ and I suddenly hear this ripping sound, then him going, ‘Ouuuch!’
He stays standing in front of the mirror for a good twenty seconds, staring at himself, the wig now in his hand. Then he turns and he faces us – the old Chorles O’Carroll-Kelly again.
He goes, ‘What do you think?’
I’m there, ‘A definite improvement.’
I look at Hennessy, still nursing his brandy. He’s got, like, tears spilling from his eyes. He goes, ‘Jesus, Charlie, I miss you already.’
Kennet calls the air hostess as she’s pushing the drinks cort past.
‘Hee-or, Love,’ he goes, ‘it’s b … b … b … b … bleaten roastin in hee-or, so it is. Is there addy chaddence of opening a w … w … window?’
The entire plane laughs like it’s the funniest thing anyone has ever said.
Ronan is sitting in front of me, next to Nudger. He’s kneeling on his chair, talking to me over the back of his seat. He goes, ‘He’s a bleaten cadickter, isn’t he?’
No, he’s a focking idiot, I think.
I don’t say that, though. I go, ‘Yeah, he sort of is, I suppose?’ just trying to keep the peace.
Being called a ‘cadickter’, I know from experience, is the Q Mork for working-class people who fancy themselves as comedians when travelling abroad. Kennet has already achieved it and we’re not even in the air an hour. I hope it’ll encourage him to maybe shut the fock up for the rest of the weekend. Unlikely, though.
‘Where’s Buckets of Blood?’ Ronan goes, because that’s who I’m sitting beside?
I’m there, ‘He said he was gasping for a cigarette. He was going to see could he take the battery out of the smoke detector in the jacks.’
‘Jaysus, he’s been thrun off how meddy playuns for doing that?’
He steps into the aisle, then takes Buckets of Blood’s seat beside me. He’s there, ‘You’re veddy quiet, Rosser.’
I’m like, ‘Yeah, no, I’ll definitely loosen up when I’ve had a few drinks. There’s just one or two things happening at home.’
‘Cheerlie? It’s a pity he couldn’t make it, Ross, but I toalt him I wondertherstand. You caddent say athin these dayuz.’
‘That seems to be the way things are going. Then Honor’s in trouble again.’
‘Hodor? What’s she arthur doing now?’
‘Nothing. Well, very little. You know Christian’s eldest lad – Ross Junior?’
‘The fedda with the dolls?’
‘Yeah, that’s him. That’s exactly him. Well, Honor sort of got him drunk.’
‘Moy Jaysus.’
‘To the point where he had to be pumped out.’
‘That’s on top of gibbon moy thaughter cigordettes.’
‘Hey, they’re two totally different things.’
‘Are thee, but?’
‘Look, I’m not defending her, Ro – even though I think Christian and Lauren have definite questions to ask themselves. As do you and Shadden. My point is that both of those incidents happened, like, weeks ago? And since then Honor had definitely turned a corner in terms of her behaviour. We were doing this dance class together.’
‘She toalt me. The Cheerdleston.’
‘She was honestly like a different person. She’d even stopped talking about killing Sorcha’s old pair in their sleep.’
‘That’s, er, progress, I suppowuz.’
‘But now Sorcha’s told her no more dancing. And I’m worried it’s going to set her back.’
‘Sudeka might chayunge her moyunt.’
‘She won’t, Ro. I’d try to talk her around except I’m on pretty thin ice myself. Her old man put her up to it. Told her she’d made a massive mistake thinking I could be a role model for anyone. And suddenly I’m wondering is he possibly right? And it kills me to even think that, Ro, because being an amazing, amazing father was one of the few things I took it for granted I was genuinely good at? I know you’re going to tell me I shouldn’t think that way.’
He says fock-all, I notice.
There’s suddenly an announcement. ‘A reminder,’ a man’s voice goes, sounding pissed off, ‘that it is an offence to tamper with the smoke alarms in the toilets.’
I’m there, ‘Hey, I’m sorry, I don’t want to bring down the mood. It’s supposed to be your stag. I’ll hopefully cheer up. I think I’ll stort drinking now.’
He goes, ‘I’ll gerr us a couple of bee-ors,’ and he presses the Call button.
I’m there, ‘What about you, Ro – how’s it all going?’
‘Veddy good, Rosser. Ine lubben the new job, so I am.’
‘You know what I’m talking about, Ro. Do you honestly think you can stay faithful when we’re over here?’
‘Ine moostard. Ine tedding you, Nudger’s method woorks. Hodestly, Rosser, I can go from wodden eddend or the week to the utter wirrout eeben thinking about getting the royut. Long as I do me meditayshidden.’
‘And your chanting.’
‘And me chanthen – that’s reet.’
‘So you’ll be doing it while we’re in Estepona, will you?’
‘You bethord beleeb it, Rosser.’
An air hostess arrives. Ronan asks her for two beers. Then he leans forward to check if Nudger is awake. He goes, ‘Do you want a thrink, Nudger?’
Nudger’s like, ‘Yeah – bee-or.’
‘Tree bee-ors,’ Ronan goes.
She comes back with three cans of Heineken.
Ronan’s like, ‘Is that alt you hab?’
She’s there, ‘I’m afraid so.’
Nudger goes, ‘Piss. Ine oatenly thrinken it to stop meself soberding up.’
It’s wasted on them. It’s like feeding sourdough to the ducks.
I open mine. I knock back a mouthful and feel instantly better. The water of life.
I’m there, ‘So you’re definitely not worried about, you know, being tempted?’
He goes, ‘No, Ine not. Ine stayun loyult to Shadden from now on, Rosser. I meant to say, if you want to go out to the tiddy beers and the lap-daddencing clubs and whatebber edelse, you feel free, Rosser. Foyer ahead. I wontherstand that you single feddas hab to do what you hab to do.’
‘I’ve never been into the whole lap-dancing scene, if you want to call it that. Women telling you not to touch them while asking you for credit cord details. It’s like being married.’
Ronan loves this line because he cracks his hole laughing, then leans across to the aisle to his friend, Gull, and goes, ‘Did you hee-or what the Rosser lad’s arthur saying? Said lap-daddencing was like being maddied – a wooban tedding you to keep your bleaten haddens to yisser self while aston you the wholt toyum for yisser crethit keerd!’
I hear this joke being retold back through the cabin, then various people going, ‘Who said that – the rubby fedda?’ until I hear someone eventually go, ‘He’s a cadickter, idn’t he?’ which should please me, but weirdly doesn’t?
Ro goes, ‘So what are we godda do, Rosser, while the rest of them are out bleaten whorden?’
I’m there, ‘Actually, I’ve come up with an idea for a game,’ and I whip out my phone and stort looking for the file. ‘You know when people go on safari, roysh, they all want to see what they call The Big Five? We’re talking lion, we’re talking leopard, we’re talking buffalo, we’re talking rhino, we’re talking –’
‘Edephant.’
‘Elephant, yeah. Well, I was thinking – okay, maybe this is a stupid idea – but we could do our own safari? So I spent a couple of nights on the Internet, trying to find out who were the biggest Irish criminals living in Estepona?’
He goes, ‘Did you check the Indo website? Palt Widdiams writ a lorra eerticles about the place.’
‘I read everything Paul Williams has ever written about the place. And these are the names I came up with.’
I hand him my phone. He reads it, going, ‘Griebous Bothily Hardem. Dangerous Roppie Folan. Fat Frankie Maher. Johnny The Badger Grendon. Andy The Milkman Kinch. You’re arthur putting their pitchers in as well.’
I’m there, ‘You can also see that I’ve put little boxes beside each name so you get their autographs as you see them. I was going to print out one for everyone on the stag – that’s if the hotel has an actual printer.’
Ronan just stares at my, I suppose, work – if you want to call it that? – for a good thirty seconds, then he turns to me and goes, ‘You’re a bleaten great fadder, Rosser. And doatunt you ebber doubt yisser self.’
So we’re all sitting outside a boozer called El Arrecife on the main drag in Estepona – we’re talking the whole crew minus Buckets of Blood, who was arrested on arrival in Malaga for causing possibly three hundred yoyos’ worth of damage to a smoke detector.
There’s a lot of speculation as to what will happen to him.
Gull goes, ‘He could end up doing tree yee-or in a Spaddish jayult.’
But Ronan’s uncle, Anto – in other words, Tina’s brother – goes, ‘Would you ast me boddicks, tree yee-or. Thee’ll keep him in for a few hours – teach him a lesson – then thee’ll lerrum go. Thrust me.’
It’s, like, warm out, even though the sun went down hours ago, and the evening air is filled with the whiff of Jōvan Musk and Hai Karate. We’re all, like, seven or eight pints down the road and the group is storting to split between those who are thinking of getting food and those who are thinking of getting their rock and roll.
As usual, I’m thinking of both.
Shadden’s brother, Dadden, goes, ‘There’s a place hee-or that’s apposed to do proper Irish cuddy chips!’
And Anto – who’s an actual qualified chef – gives me a smile and rolls his eyes.
Kennet goes, ‘I doatunt know about you f … f … f … f … f … f … feddas but Ine thinking of g … g … getting an eardy night. Ine bleaten b … b … b … b … b … b … b … boddixed, so I am.’
Before he goes back to the aportment, he gives Ronan a warning as to his behaviour. He goes, ‘D … D … D … D … Doatunt be habbon sex wit addy quare ones. Do you get me?’
Ronan’s like, ‘Er …’
‘Ine thalken about p … p … p … p … prosthitutes. You’re apposed to be m … m … m … m … maddying my thaughter. Doaunt want you p … p … p … p … picking up athin.’
