Schmidt Happens

by Ross O'Carroll-Kelly

  Which is why I decide that I deserve a drink. I grab a cheeky pint – two, if I’m being totally honest? – in Café en Seine. And while I’m finishing the second, I leave Ronan a voice message telling him that I’ve fixed everything. He won’t be having any trouble from Huguette in September. I tell him he should maybe think about getting the fock out of that house before Shadden gets her claws back into him.

  Of course, then I realize that I left the message on Shadden’s actual phone – I must have been thinking about her when I went into my phonebook – but I think, Fock it, she already knows how I feel about her family. I’ll ring him in the morning and have a proper chat with him.

  I grab a taxi and I tell the driver Killiney. I’m in much better form, it has to be said, so much so that I end up actually chatting to the driver, which ends up being a massive, massive mistake. He says he’s got nothing against women or people from Cork, but that Charles O’Carroll-Kelly says things that we all secretly think but are too scared to say any more.

  We’re on Ballinclea Road when I suddenly have an idea.

  ‘Change of plan,’ I go. ‘Drop me at the top of Albert Road instead,’ which he does.

  I get out, then I whip out my phone and I call up Sasha’s number. She answers on the third ring.

  She’s like, ‘Ross?’

  I’m there, ‘I need to talk to you.’

  ‘So talk.’

  ‘I mean in person. I’m on Albert Road. What number are you?’

  She tells me the exact gaff. Sixty seconds later, she’s opening the door to me, a glass of white wine in her hand. On a Monday night. Hey, I know I’m one to talk, being two pints down the road to Sloshington DC.

  I’m there, ‘I need to talk to you.’

  She goes, ‘Do you want to come in?’

  ‘What about what’s-his-name – as in, your husband?’

  ‘Matthew’s taken the kids to Bits and Pizzas in Dún Laoghaire,’ she goes, opening the door wider to invite me in. ‘They won’t be back for another half an hour.’

  I think, half an hour? Okay. So in I go. It’s a nice gaff. Sasha is obviously a bit of a neat freak because there’s, like, literally nothing out of place?

  ‘How are the boys?’ she goes.

  I’m like, ‘They’re great. They miss you, though. They miss Little Cambridge.’

  ‘Well, you know how to fix that, Ross.’

  ‘I came here tonight to try to appeal to your better nature.’

  ‘Seriously?’ she goes, dubious. ‘That’s why you’re here?’

  I’m like, ‘Please, Sasha, hear me out here. Look, I really appreciate what you’ve done for the boys. Me and Sorcha do. I mean, they’ve genuinely changed. They’re not violent any more. And they’ve stopped effing and blinding every second word.’

  ‘I know. It’s such a pity that I’m going to have to give their places away to three other children.’

  ‘I’m here to beg you not to do that.’

  ‘Beg me? You don’t have to beg me! You just have to have sex with me!’

  ‘I’m not going to do that. Like I told you that day in your office when you kissed me –’

  ‘You mean the day when you kissed me back, unbuttoned my shirt and fondled my breasts?’

  ‘Okay, that day, yeah. I told you that nothing was going to happen between us and I meant it. I’m married, Sasha. And, while that might not have meant a whole heap to me in the past, me and Sorcha have very much clicked recently. And it’s made me think that I’m finally capable of being hopefully loyal to the girl.’

  ‘You know what’s hilarious?’ she goes, pouring herself another glass of wine. ‘You almost sound like you actually mean it.’

  I’m there, ‘Yeah, no, that’s because I do mean it.’

  ‘And yet when I mentioned that Matthew wouldn’t be back for half an hour, I could see you doing the calculations in your head.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t.’

  ‘You were thinking would that be enough time for us to do it?’

  ‘That’s habit more than anything.’

  ‘Because you still get off on that thrill, Ross. The danger excites you. It’s like the night of my debs when I came back in from having a cigarette outside and I was nearly sure you’d just been getting off with my friend, Amanda.’

  ‘I never got off with your friend, Amanda.’

  I did get off with her friend, Amanda.

  She goes, ‘I could taste Malibu on your mouth.’

  I’m there, ‘I didn’t get off with her, Sasha. May God strike my mother down dead if I’m lying.’

  She smiles. She doesn’t believe me. She takes a sip of her wine. She goes, ‘So what did your brain tell you, Ross? Half an hour? Would it be enough time to do the deed?’

  And – yeah, no – I’m suddenly having visions of the two of us going at it, we’re talking angry, clear-the-air sex, me with my chinos around my ankles, Sasha sitting on the kitchen table with her legs wrapped around my orse and her nails dug into the back of my neck, me catching an ugly reflection of my face in that photograph of Matthew and his mates having just completed the Camino de Santiago, my two eyes turned outwards, my tongue flapping about like a focked roller blind, while Sasha, between thrusts, curses Sorcha for choosing to go to school in Goatstown despite living so close to Military Road.

  ‘Stop it!’ I suddenly shout because I’m getting definitely turned on here and she knows it. ‘Just stop it, okay?’

  ‘Stop what?’ she goes. ‘You’re the one who’s standing in my kitchen with an erection.’

  But then the most surprising thing of all ends up happening. I turn around and I head for the door. She can’t actually believe it. For what it’s worth, I can’t either.

  She goes, ‘Seriously? You’re turning me down again?’

  I’m there, ‘Like I said, my cheating days are over, Sasha. I’m ready to be finally faithful to Sorcha.’

  ‘What,’ she goes, ‘the girl who got her daddy to drive her half an hour to school every day because she was too good for Holy Child Killiney?’

  God, it really is an issue for her.

  I’m there, ‘I love her, Sasha. She’s my wife. And I know you have a problem with her – and obviously a thing for me – but I’m asking you please don’t take it out on my kids. Especially when they’ve made so much – I want to say – progress?’

  She looks at me coldly, then goes, ‘I don’t want to see those boys anywhere near Little Cambridge again.’

  I’m like, ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘Ross,’ she goes, ‘your children are idiots.’

  And I’m there, ‘What? I thought you said they were possibly gifted?’

  And she laughs in a really, like, cruel way?

  ‘They’re not gifted!’ she goes. ‘That’s just something we say because we know how much parents love to hear it.’

  I’m there, ‘But the change I’ve seen in them since they storted going to you. They’ve stopped swearing and being violent.’

  ‘I’ll tell you my secret, will I? I just shouted at them.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘I just shouted at them: “Stop swearing! And stop fighting!” And they did. All they needed was a firm voice to tell them what was acceptable behaviour and what was unacceptable. But, beyond that, there’s nothing more I can do for them. They’re not good at anything, Ross.’

  ‘They must be good at something.’

  ‘Trust me, they’re not. They’re not good at music. They’re not good at ort. They’re not good at problem-solving. They’re three of the stupidest children I’ve ever had the misfortune to teach. And, unfortunately for you, I don’t want them dragging down the educational standard of the rest of the class.’

  ‘Yeah, no, you’re just lashing out now. I thought you said that all kids were gifted?’

  ‘Not yours. Now get out of my house. I never want to see you or those idiot boys of yours again.’

  I walk up to the roundabout at the top of the road, t
hen I whip out my phone, the plan being to Hailo another cab. But I see that I’ve got two missed calls from Muirgheal, so I ring her back straight away.

  She goes, ‘I’ve been trying to get Sorcha on the phone but she’s not answering.’

  I’m there, ‘Is everything okay?’ at the same time managing to wave down a taxi that happens to be passing.

  I hop into the back of it.

  ‘I’m not going to use the interview,’ she goes.

  I’m like, ‘Vico Road, Dude. Sorry, Muirgheal, say that again?’

  She’s there, ‘I’ve decided not to podcast the interview I did with you tonight.’

  ‘Is it because I kept crying when I was talking about my old dear? Because you said you could edit those bits out.’

  ‘It has nothing to do with the crying. I had a chat with Croía tonight. I told you she’s advising me on Women’s Issues.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She thinks we should just let the Government fall.’

  ‘Let it fall? Do you mind me asking why?’

  ‘To let people see how utterly focking useless our male politicians are. To let them see how the likes of Leo Varadkar and Micheál Mortin are prepared to put their egos ahead of the challenges facing our country. If there ends up being a General Election, Croía thinks there’ll be a massive swing towards women candidates.’

  ‘But what if my old man ends up winning?’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, we’ve got something planned for him that’s way better than exposing him for hacking the email accounts of everyone in the Dáil. And the Seanad.’

  ‘Only one of those was absolutely definite, by the way. What about Ronan – do you know does that deal still stand?’

  She goes, ‘Don’t know, don’t care. That’s between you and Croía’s niece. I’m sorry, I have to go,’ and she just hangs up on me.

  I’m thinking, Oh, fock it.

  I arrive home a few minutes later. The second I open the front door, I can hear Sorcha sobbing. I’m wondering, do I even want to know what this is about? I follow the sound to the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table with Fionn and her old pair.

  I honestly haven’t seen her this upset since, well, the last time she was this upset.

  I’m there, ‘Is this about Honor not wanting to come home from Australia? Because if you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you …’

  But something very random happens then. Sorcha gets up from the table and runs towards me, going, ‘I’m so sorry, Ross! Oh my God, I am so, so sorry!’

  And she throws her orms around me.

  I’m like, ‘Sorry?’ and I look at the others. ‘What the fock is going on?’

  I reach behind me and I tear off a piece of kitchen roll and give it to Sorcha to dry her eyes.

  I’m there, ‘Seriously? What’s the Jack?’

  ‘I rang Erika,’ she goes. ‘She told me something about Honor.’

  I’m there, ‘Yeah, no, I’m trying not to take it personally, Sorcha. It’s just she doesn’t want to have to come home just as her Fashion Factories and her Wellness Summits are taking off.’

  Sorcha goes, ‘She had her first period, Ross.’

  Jesus Christ. Okay, that’s not something I was expecting. Or something I’m interested in discussing.

  I’m there, ‘Did you see Leinster got Montpellier and the Exeter Chiefs in the Heineken Cup draw, Fionn? I’d be happy enough with that.’

  Sorcha goes, ‘It happened that night, Ross. Do you remember we were watching Jerry Maguire in the cor? She asked you to put me on the phone but I didn’t want to speak to her? In the end, she had to go and talk to Erika about it.’

  ‘I presume she gave her – I’m sorry, I feel a bit icky saying this – but whatever she needed.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Ross. I’ve missed one of the most seminal moments in the life of my only daughter. She’s transitioned from childhood into womanhood – and I wasn’t there to talk her through the changes happening to her body.’

  ‘Munster got Racing and Castres, by the way – good enough for the fockers!’

  ‘And it’s all my fault, Ross. It’s all my fault for sending her away.’

  Sorcha’s old man goes, ‘Dorling, I would think very, very carefully about what you say next.’

  And suddenly I’m getting the feeling that something massive has happened and I’m the last person to know about it.

  I’m there, ‘Is someone going to tell me what the fock is going on?’

  ‘We accused her in the wrong,’ Sorcha goes. ‘She wasn’t poisoning Hillary at all.’

  There’s, like, silence then. I’m in, like, shock. Sorcha storts sobbing again to the point where she can’t actually talk, so Fionn ends up having to pick up the story.

  ‘I was walking past your bedroom,’ he goes. ‘Hillary was in his bassinet, sleeping. The boys were in the room with him. And they were –’

  I’m like, ‘What?’

  He goes, ‘They were dipping his soother into the toilet, Ross, then giving it to him to suck. And we think that’s what was making him sick.’

  I’m there, ‘So you’re saying it wasn’t actually Honor?’

  He goes, ‘No, it wasn’t Honor.’

  ‘And presumably she didn’t take the batteries out of the baby monitor either?’

  He can’t even look me in the eye. He goes, ‘No. I watched them do that as well. They took them out to put them into –’

  ‘Pirate Pete – the Repeat Parrot.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I find myself getting suddenly angry. I’m there, ‘How long have you all known about this?’

  Sorcha goes, ‘A few months.’

  I’m like, ‘A few months?’

  ‘Since just after Honor left.’

  Something suddenly occurs to me. I let go of Sorcha and I take a step backwards. I’m there, ‘So that morning, when you said Fionn had gone to the –’

  ‘The Irish Emigrant Museum,’ she goes. ‘I panicked, Ross. I just said the first thing that came into my head.’

  Fionn’s there, ‘We took Hillary to the hospital. He was vomiting. But they gave him fluids and then he was fine. I stayed with him while they kept him under observation for a few hours –’

  ‘And I came home,’ Sorcha goes, ‘to look after the boys. But Mom and Dad ended up taking them to the pork because I was so angry with them in the moment. I was genuinely scared of what I might do.’

  I’m there, ‘You basically seduced me. I mean, that was the day you finally decided to let me have sex with you. So what was it – a sympathy ride?’

  Sorcha’s old man goes, ‘Do we have to listen to him talk like that?’

  ‘It wasn’t a sympathy ride!’ Sorcha tries to go. ‘You have to believe me, Ross! It wasn’t a sympathy ride!’

  ‘So you’ve all known about this,’ I go, ‘for the entire summer? And Honor’s been in Australia that entire time, knowing her family were on the other side of the world thinking the worst possible thing about her – that she would try to hurt a defenceless little baby? And you had no intention of telling her that you accused her in the wrong?’

  Sorcha’s old dear decides to have her say then. She goes, ‘Oh, come on, she’s hordly an innocent. Fine, she didn’t do that but she did plenty of other things. Am I the only one who remembers the way she spoke to that poor bishop?’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ Sorcha’s old man goes, ‘she was looking for ways to poison us, Sorcha! Your mother and I! She admitted as much herself!’

  I’m just staring at the dude. It’s funny the things that pop into your head at, like, random moments. I’m suddenly remembering him that day at the Aviva when he asked that question about throwing the ball forwards in front of poor Slats. I’m remembering he was wearing a scorf that was half Ireland and half South Africa, like the focking day-tripper that he was. And his focking opera glasses.

  And I realize that the reason I’m suddenly thinking about it is because I want to kill him now as much as I did that da
y.

  Fionn is trying to make them all feel better about what they did, of course. He goes, ‘Look, I feel just as guilty about it as you do, Sorcha. But Honor wanted to go to Australia. She actually asked if she could go.’

  I’m there, ‘But I didn’t want her to go!’ and I shout it at the top of my voice. ‘Sorcha didn’t want her to go. We only agreed to let her go because you were threatening to apply for custody of Hillary.’

  Sorcha closes her eyes. She has tears spilling down her face. She goes, ‘I did want her to go, Ross. And, yes, I am ashamed to say it because that probably makes me a bad mother. But after the way she embarrassed us at the Confirmation, I couldn’t bring myself to even look at her. I wanted her out of the house. I wanted all her unpleasantness and her nastiness and her hostility and her cruelty gone.’

  I’m there, ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘Ross, I don’t like her. And I know how awful that sounds. But at the same time it’s true. I love her because she’s my daughter. But I don’t like her – not even a little bit.’

  ‘I can’t believe I’m actually hearing this.’

  ‘You can’t deny how nice it’s been having her out of the way, Ross. Think about the lovely summer we’ve had. There’s been no atmosphere in the house. The boys have stopped swearing. You and I have finally clicked. We both said it – it’s like we’re teenagers again.’

  ‘I’m wondering if you felt any of that. I’m still wondering did you only let me up on you out of pity?’

  Sorcha’s old dear goes, ‘Can you please stop talking about our daughter like that?’

  Sorcha’s there, ‘Ross, I didn’t lie to you – not about that. I really do love you.’

  But I’m there, ‘I have to get out of here. Otherwise, I won’t be responsible for what I say slash do.’

  I open the kitchen door and I hear a shout from upstairs. It’s Brian. He goes, ‘Shut the fock up and give your focking hole a rest.’

  10.

  The One Piece I Couldn’t Live Without!

  The big news this morning is that there’s going to be an election. But the even bigger news in this house is that my wife is a lying, scheming cheat – although I’m saying that as someone who’s slept with her sister and most of her friends over the years.