“The fock is this?” I go.
Yeah, no, I’m doing the morning school run, crawling up Trees Road in a procession of all-terrain vehicles, like an invading ormy, when Honor hands me a piece of paper.
She goes, “It’s, like, my results – from, like, my mocks?”
I can’t believe she’s doing her Leaving Cert this year.
Honor goes, ‘I’m editing the school yearbook photographs of anyone who pissed me off’
‘Imagine no possessions. I wonder if you can,’ the old dear sings. Her earrings cost more than my cor
‘I most certainly do have an American accent,’ I tell my supposed half-brother. ‘I’m from south Dublin’
Ross O’Carroll-Kelly: ‘I hate my children too. Like, how could three kids of mine turn out to be such dicks?’
I give it the old left to right, then I go, “They’ve given you someone else’s results, Honor,” and I hand it back to her.
She’s like, “Excuse me?”
“They’re clearly not your results, Honor.”
“How focking dare you.”
“You mean they are yours?”
“Yes, they’re focking mine.”
“Show me again?”
She does – and I end up nearly driving into the back of Sally-Ann Morkey’s X5.
I’m like, “Jesus, Honor these are unbelievable. And that’s no offence to you.”
She goes, “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’ve never been good at school. I always thought you took after me.”
There’s a famous quote from that dude, I don’t know, Edward Einstein, who said, “The more I learn, the less I know,” which I always think must make me a genius as well, because I knew less when I finished school than I did when I storted.
I’m there, “I’m going to say fair focks to you, Honor. Certain people, naming no names – your old dear, in other words – wondered whether you being head girl this year was having an – I think it’s a word – adverse effect on your schoolwork? You’ve answered your critics – one thing you definitely have in common with me, in fairness to you. And just to think – ”
She’s like, “What?”
“I was just going to point out that you failed your Christmas exams. Failed every single subject if I remember correctly.”
“So? What’s your point?”
“I’m not sure what my actual point is?”
“Then keep your mouth shut. If you must know, I knuckled down and worked really, really hord.”
Which is news to me. I never saw her open a book this year – and that’s not a criticism.
I’m there, “So it’s a great comeback story. Like me coming back as a hooker at 36 to save Seapoint from relegation to Division 2C of the All Ireland League.”
She’s like, “Whatever.”
“Do you mind me commenting that you just seem very – ”
“Very what?”
“– very cool about the whole thing. I mean, if that was your Leaving Cert, Honor, you’d be looking pretty much maximum points.”
“So?”
“I’m saying if that was me, I’d be running up and down Trees Road there, naked from the waist up, helicoptering my shirt over my head.”
“If you must know, I’ve got bigger things to think about.”
“Bigger things? As in?”
“I’ve decided to cancel the school musical this year.”
Does it have anything to do with the fact that Thia Hall is playing the lead?
— Ross
Yeah, no, they’re supposed to be putting on South Pacific with Michael’s in May.
I’m there, “You’re cancelling it? Do you have that power?”
She goes, “Yes, I have that power.”
“And do you mind me asking why?”
“Why do you care?”
“It’s just that, I don’t know, the end-of-year musical is a major, major deal. I remember your old dear doing Oklahoma back in the day, even though I arrived at it pissed and slept through most of the second act.”
“I’m just worried that everybody is getting too distracted by it. Our priority has to be getting a good Leaving Cert so that we can come out ahead of Muckross in the schools league table.”
There’s, like, silence for 10 seconds.
Then I’m like, “Are you sure it’s just that?”
She goes, “What does that mean?”
“Well, does it have anything to do with the fact that Thia Hall is playing the lead?”
“No.”
“As in, Thia Hall who stood against you for the position of head girl and described your leadership style as ‘Trumpian’ in the Mount Anville Gazette?”
“I’d actually forgotten about that.”
“As in, Thia Hall who arranged a rival school skiing trip to Switzerland,” I go, “with many of the same Michael’s boys who are going to be in the musical?”
She’s there, “It’s just a coincidence.”
That’s a very serious allegation to make. Do you want one of Hennessy Coghlan-O’Hara’s famous letters?
— Ross
She opens the door and gets out. Yeah, no, I should mention that the cor is stopped at this point? We’ve arrived at the school.
So off she focks and I’m actually in the process of turning the cor around to rejoin the SUV cavalcade down Trees Road when all of a sudden Mrs van Helsing – Honor’s English teacher – steps in front of the cor and I end up having to brake hord.
I’m like, “What the fock?” as she approaches the driver’s window. “I nearly ran over you there. You’re lucky I wasn’t texting at the time.”
She goes, “You heard about the musical, I presume? It’s been cancelled.”
I’m there, “Yeah, no, Honor just feels that everyone’s focus should be on getting ahead of Muckross in the Leaving Cert results table.”
“Well, she did suspiciously well in her mocks–”
“Yeah, no, I’m proud of her.”
“– even though she failed all of her Christmas exams.”
“What can I say? She knuckled down and worked hord. I watched her do it.”
“If she gets the same results in her Leaving Cert, she’ll have nearly maximum points.”
“It’s a hell of a comeback story. You wouldn’t happen to be an AIL fan, would you – especially the lower divisions?”
She doesn’t answer me, so clearly not.
She goes, “I know she cheated.”
I’m there, “That’s a very serious allegation to make. Do you want one of Hennessy Coghlan-O’Hara’s famous letters?”
She’s like, “Somehow, whatever leverage she has over certain girls in her year, I think the papers she submitted were not her work.”
I’m there, “Can you prove that? And bear in my mind, I’m already ringing the dude here.”
Yeah, no, I actually have the phone to my ear.
She goes, “No, I can’t prove it.”
Hennessy answers. He goes, “The fock do you want? What Garda station are they holding you in?” because that’s how much he thinks of his godson.
“Except,” Mrs van Helsing goes, “in the case of her English paper. I can prove that it was written by ChatGPT.”
I’m there, “Sorry, Hennessy, wrong number,” and I kill the call.
Mrs van Helsing gives me a checkmate smile.
I’m like, “Can we talk about this like two reasonable adults?”
But she goes, “No, we can’t. Your daughter has had this coming to her for a long time.”
