Dancing with the Tsars, page 37
‘You mean Ryan?’
‘He just hates us. Doesn’t he, Dad?’
I’m like, ‘Yeah, no, the other two judges gave us maximum points for our quickstep and our foxtrot. He gave us two sevens and told Honor that I was holding her back.’
She goes, ‘Oh, he just likes to have someone to pick on – like his mother picked on him. Oh, I’ve met some awful Dance Moms in my years, but his was the worst I ever knew: “Left foot, right foot, left foot! Left foot, right foot, left foot! Are you an imbecile?” ’
I’m there, ‘She sounds a bit like my old man when he was teaching me how to kick!’
‘A horribly cruel woman. If he made a mistake, she would make him wear his shoes on the wrong feet for the next week – to teach him a lesson. He had to go to school like that.’
‘I wonder are we possibly related?’
Honor puts the CD in the CD player.
She goes, ‘Mrs Leonard, will you come to watch us in the final round?’
I have to admit, I’m actually surprised when the woman turns around and goes, ‘I’m afraid not, Honor, no.’
Honor’s hurt. I can see it in her face. I thought the woman liked her.
I’m there, ‘Do you mind me asking you why not?’ sounding like one of those parents she was just complaining about.
‘Because,’ she goes, ‘I don’t like these kinds of competitions. People should dance for the joy of it. It shouldn’t be used to turn little girls against each other.’
I’m there, ‘It’s more the parents actually. Put it this way, there’s a lot of solicitors and barristers making a lot of money out of it.’
I suppose Mount Anville will get all that moolah eventually. That’s how the South Dublin economy works.
She goes, ‘That’s why I don’t get involved. Too many parents like Ryan’s mother, using their children to get one up on each other. Thank you, Honor, for asking me, but no, I won’t come.’
Honor goes, ‘Fine,’ even though I can see that she’s totally crushed.
‘Now, come along,’ Mrs Leonard goes, ‘we’ve got lots and lots of work ahead of us.’
So it’s, like, just after six o’clock in the evening and I’m about to go on my date with Roz. I look and feel fantastic. I even give myself a little wink in the mirror at the top of the stairs.
I go, ‘You’re winning at life, Kid!’ and I have to say it gives me a huge boost in my confidence.
I tip downstairs to the kitchen. Sorcha is watching the RTÉ news while the boys are sitting at the table, playing – quietly for once – with their Match Attax cords.
I’m there, ‘I’m, er, heading out.’
‘Look at this focker!’ Brian goes.
Leo’s like, ‘He’s only a wanker!’
But Sorcha doesn’t say shit. She’s too engrossed in the news. Caitríona Perry is saying that tens of thousands of people across twenty-five American cities took to the streets to protest against Donald Trump’s victory in the US election. In New York, a crowd of five thousand people, including Lady Gaga, morched to Trump Tower, carrying banners bearing the message, ‘Not my President!’
Sorcha notices me for the first time. She mutes the TV.
‘It makes me feel actually nauseous,’ she goes, ‘to think that he’s going to undo all the amazing, amazing things that Barack Obama did for the world.’
I try to do the glass half full thing.
I’m there, ‘It might not be as bad you think. Do you remember that time in The West Wing when John Goodman took over from Jed Bortlet? At first you thought he was a dick. Then after two or three episodes, you kind of got used to him?’
She looks at me with this look of just, like, disgust on her face. She goes, ‘Are you actually suggesting that they’re the same thing?’
I’m like, ‘I suppose not.’
‘One is a TV show, Ross, and the other is real life.’
I don’t know what’s upset her more – Donald Trump winning the election or Croía using her like she did. Either way, she’s in foul form.
I go, ‘Anyway, like I said, I’m heading out.’
She’s like, ‘Where are you going?’
‘Just – like I said – out.’
‘Do you have a date? Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that.’
‘It feels weird telling you this, but – yeah, no – I do have a date.’
‘I noticed you were wearing your Acqua di Giò. It’s a bit early for a date, isn’t it?’
‘She has to get home early. She has, like, a daughter.’
‘Oh.’
‘It’s actually the mother of a girl in Honor’s class.’
‘Like I said, it’s none of my business.’
‘I don’t know if you remember Rosalind Carew?’
‘Went to Alexandra College? Played hockey for the seconds and was Deputy Head Girl?’
‘Er, possibly.’
‘That’s who you’re going on a date with?’
‘Yeah.’
She doesn’t say anything for ages. I can see she’s jealous. ‘Like I said,’ she goes, ‘you’re a free agent.’
She puts her hand on her swollen belly then and goes, ‘What kind of mother am I going to be to this baby, Ross?’
I’m there, ‘The best mother in the world!’
I have to say it. She’s upset.
She’s like, ‘How could I be? I’ve got three sons who’ve been borred from every toy shop and play centre in this city and a daughter attending an Alcohol and Tobacco Awareness programme.’
‘She’s not,’ I suddenly hear myself go.
I say it just because I want to give her some good news? You could call it a crumb of comfort.
She’s there, ‘What do you mean?’
I’m like, ‘When I told you that Honor was going on a course to learn about the dangers of giving cigarettes and alcohol to children, it was one of my famous little white lies. I’ve been bringing her to dance classes behind your back.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘We entered the Strictly Mount Anville dance contest, Sorcha. We’re actually in second place with just the Chorleston to go!’
She’s like, ‘Oh! My God!’ but not in a good way.
‘For what’s it’s worth,’ I go, ‘that’s also the reason I threw a dress on your pogo stick and drew a face on your Lolo ball. I wasn’t using it as a sex doll. I can’t tell you what a relief it is to finally be able to tell you that.’
‘I can’t focking believe this!’
‘You focking prick!’ Leo goes.
I’m there, ‘I hoped you’d be genuinely pleased.’
She’s like, ‘Pleased? That you both lied to me – again?’
‘Sorcha, you wouldn’t believe the change that has come over the girl since she entered this competition. If you could only see us dance together. I think she’s actually turning into the little girl you always dreamed of having.’
Sorcha just shakes her head. ‘Don’t say another word,’ she goes. ‘Just go on your date.’
And Brian’s like, ‘Focking orsehole.’
Roz asks me if I’ve done much dating. I presume she means since the separation and not while I was married.
‘In fairness to me,’ I go, ‘I’ve mostly been concentrating on being an amazing father to my children. I’ve had one or two dates,’ and I think about Jaila with her Venti Lattes and Hedvig with her horndog of a husband. ‘To be honest, the two or three dates I’ve had since the break-up have been pretty disastrous.’
She laughs and goes, ‘Same with me. I’ve been on Tinder a few times.’
‘Stop – the scrapings of the barrel.’
‘There are some seriously weird people out there, aren’t there? There are so many assholes on it who don’t even want a conversation with you. They want to skip straight to sex. I’m old-fashioned in the sense that I really need to get to know someone before I progress to that level.’
‘Hm.’
She laughs and slaps me on the side of the orm. She’s like, ‘You’re so funny the way your eyes went to the door there! You’re actually hilarious!’
I just laugh along – what else can I do? I go, ‘How was your burger?’
She’s like, ‘Yeah, it was good. It’s just I wasn’t that hungry. So this is, like, still your local, is it?’
She’s talking about Kielys.
I’m there, ‘Always was. Always will be. In twenty years’ time, you’ll see me up at the bor there, reminiscing about the player I could have been if I hadn’t been such a piss-head. Maybe even bragging about my own kids – how they could have played for Ireland, just like I should have?’
‘Sincerity said you’ve got three little boys,’ she goes. ‘What are they like?’
‘Very annoying.’
‘You don’t mean that!’
‘I do. I honestly thought they’d be more into rugby, but they’ve got literally zero interest. They’re triplets, by the way.’
‘Oh my God, did you hear about those triplets who got banned from D. L. Kids and –?’
‘That’s them, Roz.’
‘What?’
‘They’re banned from D. L. Kids because they can’t stop focking and blinding. They’re banned from everywhere. They’re my children.’
She puts her hand over her mouth. She goes, ‘Oh my God, I am so sorry!’
I’m there, ‘That’s what I meant when I said they were annoying.’
‘Well, at least you’ve got Honor!’
‘Yeah, no, that’s true.’
‘She’s such a sweet little girl.’
‘She certainly has her moments.’
‘You get on so well.’
‘She’s very like me in terms of wanting to be a winner and doing whatever it takes to achieve that end.’
‘I told you that Sincerity absolutely adores her. Do you know what she said to me last night? She said she’d love to see Honor win the Goatstown Glitterball.’
‘That’s mind games. Because she knows we’re breathing down her neck.’
‘It’s not mind games! Although the competition has become pretty vicious, hasn’t it?’
‘That’s the South Dublin professional classes for you.’
‘Raymond is convinced that one of the other fathers is going to sabotage him. Currer Bell’s dad thinks he put that nail through his shoe.’
‘There’s one or two think your daughter poisoned their kids as well.’
‘Sincerity wouldn’t do something like that!’
‘Let’s just change the subject. I’ve got, like, a grown-up son as well – we’re talking Ronan.’
‘Yeah,’ she goes, ‘Sincerity said Honor talks about him all the time.’
‘He’s getting married on New Year’s Eve. Clontorf Castle. I’ve tried to talk him out of it. Not the venue. The getting married bit. I don’t want to see him make the same mistake I did.’
‘I got married way too young.’
‘I’m sorry, I never even asked you – what position did your husband play?’
‘He actually never played rugby.’
‘Jesus – how did you two ever meet?’
‘We’ve known each other since we were kids. Our families go way back. It’s a long story.’
I’m there, ‘Protestants!’
She laughs. It’s funny because it’s true. ‘What’s wrong with Protestants?’ she goes.
I’m there, ‘Hey, nothing. Father Fehily, my old schools coach, used to say Protestants were the same as Catholics. They just talk to God on a different network.’
Again, she laughs. But then she suddenly says that she has to go home. I’m disappointed because it’s only half-nine and the reference to Father Fehily was actually my way of bringing the conversation around to my schools rugby career and her memories of it. But she says she doesn’t like to be out after Sincerity’s bed time and I just have to accept that.
I pay the bill, then we head outside to Hailo two taxis, one to Goatstown and one to either the Vico Road or town – I haven’t made my mind up yet.
She goes, ‘Can I just say, that was such a nice night. Do you mind me saying, you’re actually a lovely, lovely guy?’
What I like about this girl is that she totally gets me? And when I say ‘totally gets me’, I mean she’s completely taken in by my act.
She goes, ‘I can see where Honor gets it from now.’
I’m there, ‘You definitely don’t fancy heading into town, no?’
‘I’d love to, but unfortunately I can’t. I’d love to see you again, though.’
‘Yeah, no, that’d be great.’
Then she suddenly leans in and she kisses me. She tastes of jojoba lip gloss and elderflower tonic. Luckily, I’ve no objection to either. We end up kissing for a good five minutes until her phone beeps to tell her that her taxi is ten feet behind her.
She whispers in my ear, ‘That was worth waiting nearly twenty years for!’ and then she gets into the back of the taxi and tells me to text her. I tell her I will and for once I actually mean it?
My taxi arrives a minute or two later. I tell the dude to drop me into town but then I change my mind and tell him – yeah, no – I’ll head home instead. It might be a sign that I’m possibly maturing, but I really, really like this girl. Maybe I’ll wait till about midnight and send her a text, asking her what she’s wearing – see can I steer her down that route.
Half an hour later, I’m home. I let myself in and I tip down to the kitchen with the intention of grabbing a stick of Heinemite and bringing it up to bed. I have to say, I end up being surprised – although shocked is more the word? – to find Honor and Sorcha sitting together at the kitchen table.
Sorcha is working on something on the Singer sewing machine that her granny left her, while Honor is playing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious on repeat on her iPhone.
I’m like, ‘What’s going on?’ but I don’t say it in, like, a bad way?
Sorcha – without even looking up – goes, ‘I’m making Honor a dress for when you do the Chorleston together.’
I end up being just, like, speechless. Honor shrugs and mouths the words, ‘I don’t know,’ at me – presumably she means she doesn’t know what the fock has gotten into her old dear.
Sorcha goes, ‘Show me that picture again, Honor – the one of Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke.’
Honor turns her phone around to Sorcha.
‘Oh my God,’ Sorcha goes, ‘I could make a jacket like that for you, Ross! There’s a dress in your father’s room, Honor – I saw it when I was getting the sewing machine – and it’s exactly the same design. Vertical stripes. Pink, white, orange and yellow.’
Honor’s there, ‘I’ll go up and get it.’
As she’s passing me, Honor whispers, ‘She just came into my room and storted being really nice to me.’
Of course, understandably, I’m concerned.
When Honor goes upstairs, I sit down at the table next to Sorcha – this is without even getting my beer.
I’m there, ‘It’s, er, nice to see you two getting along so well – random, but nice.’
She goes, ‘I’ve been neglecting the things that matter the most, Ross.’
‘Specifically?’
‘My children. Honor. The boys. This little one inside me. I got distracted by what I thought was important? You know, I read online earlier that thirty thousand people have signed a petition calling for Markievicz Street to be changed back to Grafton Street – and I actually didn’t care.’
‘I don’t think Markievicz Street was ever going to catch on. It’s like trying to get people to call Lansdowne Road “the Aviva Stadium”. It’s like – fock off!’
‘So I went into Honor’s room and I sat down on her bed and she looked up from her phone and she said, “What the fock do you want?” like she does. And I said, really calmly, “Tell me about your dancing.” And she did. And the excitement in her voice, Ross! She’s found something she genuinely, genuinely loves. And you were right. She’s, like, a totally different person. I think she’s finally becoming the little girl I hoped would not only be my daughter but also my best friend?’
‘I’m delighted for you. I’m not being a wanker.’
‘I’ve decided to take some time away from politics. Maybe a year. I want to have my baby and actually reacquaint myself with my children. Does that make sense?’
‘It’ll definitely take a lot of pressure off me, Sorcha. I have to say, being a stay-in-bed husband has been a lot horder than I expected it to be?’
‘Hi, Honor!’ Sincerity goes, waving to us across the cor pork. ‘Good luck tonight!’
I’m just like, ‘Rise above it, Honor. Just smile and wave.’
Sorcha goes, ‘I always thought Sincerity was a lovely little girl!’
I’m there, ‘Yeah, no, looks can be deceiving. Tell her, Honor.’
Honor goes, ‘She poisoned Desdemona Burke, Cloud Gorvey and Annora Finch.’
‘And then her old man put a nail through Currer Bell Whelehan’s old man’s shoe,’ I go.
Sorcha’s like, ‘Oh! My God!’
She’s been away from the gates of Mount Anville for so long, she’s forgotten that the backstabbing is as vicious as a day in Westeros. I open the boot of the cor and Honor takes the dress out of it. I pick up my suit bag and sling it over my shoulder. Sorcha takes the bag with our shoes in it and my straw boater, which she sewed a band of material onto, so that it matches my pink, white, orange and yellow striped jacket.
I’m there, ‘You two head inside. I’ll, er, follow you in,’ because I want to go and say hello to Roz.
Yeah, no, we’ve seen each other, like, three or four times at this stage, although we agreed to keep it on the down-low for now – just for the sake of the kids.
I tip over to her as she’s locking her cor. I’m all, ‘Hey, how the hell are you?’
And she’s there, ‘I’m very well, thank you,’ grinning like a chimp with the keys to the monkey nut store.
I think she genuinely feels that she lucked out when she met me. And, likewise, I actually love the way I feel when I’m around her. We’ve been for, like, two or three romantic meals – excluding the one in Kielys – and there’s talk of us possibly going to Rome in February for Valentine’s Day slash Ireland’s second match in the 2017 Six Nations.
