“Oh my God,” Sorcha goes, “they’ve struck again!”
I’m there, “What are you talking about? As in, like, what the fock?”
She goes, “The SUV Avenger, Ross. The tyres of Joy Felton’s Nissan Ormada were burst last night.”
I’m staring at Honor across the table. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth – although I don’t mean that literally because she’s eating a croissant.
‘The thought of booking a table for one at Shanahan’s on the Green got me through my prison sentence’
JP is staring at me like I’ve said I’m really enjoying his old dear’s OnlyFans account
‘A threesome?’ Sorcha goes. ‘Why would you think I’d be into having a threesome?’
‘Things have changed since you were at school, Sorcha,’ the old man goes. ‘We recognise that traditional media is our enemy now’
“And David Massey’s Toyota Sequoia had its tyres burst,” Sorcha goes, “while he popped into O’Brien’s in Dalkey for a bottle of Gewürztraminer.”
I’m like, “Gewürztraminer? You wouldn’t blame him.”
She goes, “They think whoever is doing it might live somewhere around here.”
I’m there, “Imagine that, Honor. Your old dear is saying that whoever is slashing the tyres of all these SUVs is probably living amongst us.”
I could be walking the streets with a screwdriver, bursting the cor tyres of innocent, hord-working people
She looks up – as cool as a polar bear in Wayfarers – and goes, “This affects me how exactly?”
I’m there, “I’m just saying, it’s kind of exciting. Of course it couldn’t be you, Honor, could it? Because you were at the cinema with Sincerity Matthews last night. What movie did you see again?”
She goes, “The Wicker Man: The Final Cut.”
I’m there, “Hang on – is that not an 18s movie?” and I can hear myself getting angry until I remember that she wasn’t at the cinema at all.
She’s like, “There’s worse things I could be doing than watching a horror movie. I could be walking the streets with a screwdriver, bursting the cor tyres of innocent, hord-working people.”
David Massey doesn’t work. He owns, like, 40 aportments and Honor knows it.
I’m there, “Well, whoever it is, I hope they catch them soon and send them to prison for a long, long time.”
People like us don’t go to prison, of course – I’m just trying to scare the girl straight.
I won first prize in the 1988 Texaco Ort Competition for a picture of the Earth shedding a tear with the words ‘Why?’ underneath it
But Sorcha goes, “I disagree.”
I’m there, “Excuse me?”
“I actually think that what they’re doing is very noble,” she goes, “and possibly even – I want to say – heroic?”
I’m there, “You weren’t saying that the day your tyres were slashed at the recycling centre. You were going to make a speech in the Seanad calling for mandatory life sentences for anyone who damages another person’s cor.”
She goes, “That was before I had time to reflect on what an actual hypocrite I am?”
I’m there, “Sorcha, you’re not a hypocrite.”
She’s like, “I am a hypocrite, Ross. I’ve been talking about the threat to our planet for, like, how long?”
I’m there, “Yeah, no, it definitely feels like a long time.”
“I mean, I won first prize in the 1988 Texaco Ort Competition,” she goes, “for a picture of the Earth shedding a tear with the words ‘Why?’ underneath it.”
I’m there, “Yeah, I’ve heard the story, Sorcha.”
She goes, “Cormencita Hederman told me that the future of the planet was assured with people like me around. Of course she wasn’t to know that that little girl would grow up to drive a Subaru Forester.”
Honor’s like, “Great story, Mom.”
Sorcha goes, “Thanks, Honor.”
I’m there, “Can we at least agree that damaging other people’s private property is a bad thing?”
Wrong is driving an all-terrain vehicle to the bottle bank, Ross. The more I think about it, the more I think – oh, my God
She goes, “Is it, though, Ross? If that private property – as you call is – is contributing to the destruction of the environment? No, I would say that whoever is doing this is a vital defender of this planet we call Earth.”
I’m like, “Steady on, Sorcha. I’m just saying that we should maybe be teaching our children the difference between, I don’t know, right and wrong.”
She goes, “Wrong is driving an all-terrain vehicle to the bottle bank, Ross. The more I think about it, the more I think – oh, my God – I wish I’d had the courage and the conviction to do something like this when I was younger.”
I’m there, “So what if the SUV Avenger turned out to be – and I’m just throwing this out there randomly – your daughter?”
Honor doesn’t bat an eyelid. She’s absolutely unflappable under pressure. Gets that from the Rossmeister, of course.
Sorcha goes, “I’d be proud,” and then I watch her expression suddenly turn serious. “I mean, it’s not you, is it, Honor?”
Honor’s there, “No, I already told you, I was watching a horror movie for adults last night.”
“Thank God for that,” Sorcha goes. “Like I said, I’d be proud, but I’d be mortified having to face Joy Felton – we’re in the same Reformer Pilates class – and David Massey knows my dad from the Stephen’s Green Club.”
Honor smiles at me and goes, “That wasn’t the answer you were expecting, was it, Dad?”
No, I’m not selling it. Because that just means that someone else would be driving around in it and contributing to climate change
I’m there, “I just bet that this person – again, whoever they are – turns out to be a total hypocrite themselves. I’m guessing it’s some rich kid who has no qualms about being driven around in an SUV and who’s never been on a bus or a train in their lives.”
“Like Kate Winslet says,” Honor goes, “I guess we’ll never know.”
Sorcha goes, “Well, I won’t be driving anyone around in an SUV any more.”
I’m there, “What, you’re selling the Subaru Forester?”
She’s like, “No, I’m not selling it. Because that just means that someone else would be driving around in it and contributing to climate change. No, I’m just never going to drive it again.”
I’m like, “What, you’re going to let it just depreciate in the gorden? Jesus Christ, Sorcha, it’s a 21D.”
She’s there, “I don’t need it any more – now that I’ve got this,” and she holds up – I shit you not – a little green cord.
I’m like, “Is that what I think it is?” and there’s concern, even worry, in my voice.
“It’s a Leap Cord,” she goes – like she’s hurting no one. “I was thinking we might get the Dort to Dundrum today, Honor.”
Honor goes, “Er, the Dort doesn’t go to Dundrum?”
Sorcha’s like, “Doesn’t it? Oh, you’re right. Okay, so we’ll get the Dort to Dún Laoghaire and then the bus. Or the Dort into town and then the Luas.”
Honor’s mouth is suddenly flapping open and closed like a Dubarry Docksider with a focked sole.
She goes, “Er, no, you’re all right. Dad will drive me.”
I’m there, “I’m not driving you, Honor. Yeah, no, I’m suddenly thinking about the planet as well.”
She gives me an absolute filthy across the table.
I’m there, “Good luck out there in the big, bad world, Honor. And watch out for the SUV Avenger!”
