I’d rather eat what’s coming out of the dishwasher outflow pipe. But I’ll have some anyway, just to spare your feelings’
“Like the vast majority of people, I actually agree with Enda on this one. It’s just that, well, it’s Enda, isn’t it? You wouldn’t trust the chap to change the batteries in a torch, so why would you trust him to change the way we’ve been governed for the best part of a century?”
The old dear just smiles. “Charles,” she goes, “the way you’re talking right now, it’s like the old you is suddenly back.”
I was thinking the exact same thing. It has to be said that the fight kind of went out of my old man after his hort attack. He chillaxed a lot more. He had to – it was, like, doctor’s orders? But recently, I don’t know, it’s like he’s become more his old self again. A knob, in other words.
“I happen to think that the people of Ireland are ready for a new kind of politics,” he goes. “One that represents their interests and not those of some mythical European super state.”
It’s like I’m suddenly 15 again and they never broke up. These are the kinds of conversations we used to always have around the dinner table. It makes me feel – I’m going to admit it – a bit sad.
“For dessert,” the old dear goes, “I’ve got sticky Valrhona chocolate and pear pudding.”
It sounds incredible.
I go, “I’d rather eat what’s coming out of the dishwasher outflow pipe. But I’ll have some anyway, just to spare your feelings,” and off she trots to get it, looking like 200lbs of ugly stuffed into a 150lb sack.
While we eat it, she updates the old man on her campaign to prevent the link-up of the two Luases. She tells him about the one-day boycott of the green line that she’s organising and the documentary that TV3 are making about her and her fellow campaigners called Luas Women.
And then I can’t listen to any more. The second I’m finished my dessert – possibly the nicest thing I’ve ever eaten – I stand up and tell Sorcha that we should possibly hit the road.
In the cor, she asks me if I’m okay. She goes, “You seemed to get upset, Ross, towards the end.”
I’m there, “I don’t understand why they can’t just despise each other like normal human beings.”
I realize then that, in my rush to get out of there, I left my mobile on the table. I tell Sorcha I’ll be back in a second. I let myself into the gaff, then I tip back down to the kitchen, to be greeted by a sight that almost causes me to blurt sticky pudding all over the hordwood floor.
My old pair are wearing the face off each other like two basic teenagers.