Ross O’Carroll-Kelly: ‘I’m like, Who’s Samuel Beckett?’
The old dear is up in arms because the house is being considered for a preservation order
She attempts to smile, but with all the work she’s had done, she looks like she’s trying to squeeze out a silent fart at a funeral
I hear the old dear’s voice before I manage to even get the key in the door. She’s going, “How? Dare? They?”
For a second or two, I think about maybe driving away and coming back another day, or preferably never again.