Schmidt Happens

by Ross O'Carroll-Kelly

  I’m there, ‘I’m sorry you were accused in the wrong, Honor. Someone was obviously too keen to join the dots.’

  ‘This is such rubbish,’ Fionn goes. ‘She’s been looking up poisons to make Hillary sick.’

  ‘And she says she was trying to kill these two pricks,’ I go. ‘And I, for one, think we should give her the benefit of the doubt.’

  But Sorcha doesn’t want to hear it. And she says the most unbelievably hurtful thing to her then. She goes, ‘Honor, all I know is that I can’t bear to even look at you any more. This is on top of what happened at the Confirmation. I’m sorry to have to say this, Honor, but I’m actually ashamed to say that you’re my daughter.’

  Honor ends up going ballistic. She’s like, ‘Well, I’m ashamed that you’re my focking mother! Because you’re a focking slut!’

  She storms out of the Shomera, slamming the door behind her, then goes back into the house.

  I’m like, ‘That last bit was obviously a reference to you having sex with focking Gogglebox Ireland there.’

  Sorcha goes, ‘Yes, I think we got the reference, Ross, thank you very much.’

  ‘Incontrovertible evidence of malfeasance!’ Sorcha’s old man goes, loving the sound of his own voice. It’s like he’s in focking court or some shit. ‘What are we going to do with this evidence? That is the question!’

  And before I can suggest offering Honor as much support and understanding as we possibly can, Fionn goes, ‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to go to see my solicitor and I’m going to apply for full custody of my son.’

  Sorcha’s there, ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Hillary is not safe in this house, Sorcha. Not with her here.’

  I’m there, ‘Goodbye and good riddance, then. To the two of you. We’ll get them to throw that morquee back up and we’ll have a focking porty to celebrate.’

  But Sorcha – obviously being the kid’s mother – goes, ‘You are not taking my son away from me, Fionn?’

  He’s there, ‘Ultimately, that will be up to a judge to decide.’

  ‘Well, before you choose to go down that road, I have to warn you that my dad is one of the best family law solicitors in the country.’

  But then her old man ends up totally pulling the corpet from underneath her by going, ‘I can’t support you, Sorcha. Because Fionn is right. That daughter of yours is a danger to Hillary – and probably to your mother and me as well. It’s time to consider other options.’

  I’m there, ‘What other options?’

  And Sorcha goes, ‘Okay, I might have an idea.’

  I’m like, ‘Continue.’

  ‘Erika said she’d love to take her, Ross.’

  ‘Take her? What the fock is she – a dog?’

  ‘Erika has said it to Honor and she’s said to me as well. She’d love to have her in Perth with her.’

  ‘We are not sending her away. And that’s my final word on the matter.’

  ‘It’ll just be for a few months, Ross. She can’t go back to that school, Ross – even when her suspension ends. Can you imagine what life would be like for her?’

  ‘She doesn’t give a fock what anyone thinks. I love that about her.’

  ‘At least this way, she could go to Australia and wait for the whole thing to hopefully blow over, then stort the senior school in September with a clean slate.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Ross, it might end up being the making of her.’

  I’m there, ‘It’s not happening,’ and I can hear my voice go all wobbly? ‘You are not sending my daughter away to – I’d have to check the map – but I’m presuming the other side of the world.’

  Fionn goes, ‘Either she’s out of this house by the end of this week or I’m going to court to apply for a Safety and Protection Order for my son.’

  ‘And you’ll get it,’ Sorcha’s old man goes, then he turns his head and looks at me. ‘I’ll make sure of that, Ross.’

  Sorcha tries to give me a sympathetic smile. She’s there, ‘I’m sorry, Ross. But you can’t say that this day wasn’t coming. She’s been out of control for such a long time now.’

  I’m like, ‘Please, Sorcha. Don’t send her away. I’m the only person in the world she has a genuine connection with.’

  But Sorcha’s there, ‘She’s going to Australia, Ross – and that’s the end of the discussion.’

  I ask Sorcha to at least allow me to break the news to Honor about her going to Australia?

  So on Thursday afternoon, I take her out in the cor with the intention of having the big talk with her. We drive along the Vico Road all the way into Dalkey, then we keep going through Sandycove and along the seafront to Dún Laoghaire and then Blackrock.

  Honor is being unusually talkative. Yeah, no, Sorcha took all of her devices – including phone – off her last week and it’s like she’s suddenly discovered the ort of conversation. Plus, she’s, like, bouncing around from topic to topic. One minute she’s talking about how she hopes Sorcha’s old dear develops early onset dementia and Sorcha’s old man ends up having to be her carer, the next she’s talking about how she hopes Sorcha’s old man has a stroke and Sorcha’s old dear ends up having to be his carer.

  ‘Honor,’ I finally pluck up the courage to go, ‘I need to talk to you about something slightly off-topic.’

  She’s like, ‘What?’ her back already up.

  ‘Look,’ I go, ‘your old dear is very upset with you at the moment.’

  ‘I didn’t poison her stupid focking baby.’

  ‘I believe you.’

  ‘Er, tell her that, then?’

  ‘Unfortunately, I’ve tried. Believe me, Honor, I’ve argued your innocence until I’m blue in the literally face. But your old dear thinks you need to be possibly punished.’

  ‘I’ve been punished. They took away my phone and my focking laptop. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be an influencer without a phone or a focking laptop?’

  ‘I don’t – I can only imagine.’

  ‘What about my subscribers? I’ve got, like, seventy thousand people who want to know what I’m wearing!’

  ‘I feel for them. I genuinely do.’

  ‘I mean, how many times do I have to say it? I wasn’t trying to kill the baby! I was trying to kill her parents!’

  ‘I believe you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘But bear in mind that Fionn is putting in the poison as well – pordon the pun.’

  ‘Yeah, this is a man – a supposed friend of yours? – who gets your wife pregnant, then comes to live in your house and tries to tell you how to raise your children.’

  ‘The focking nerve of the goy – now that you say it.’

  I’m not getting very far here in terms of delivering the bad news. But then Honor – totally out of the blue – goes, ‘Do you know what I’d really love to do?’

  And I’m like, ‘What’s that, Honor?’ expecting her to say, I don’t know, beat Sorcha’s old pair about the head with a tyre iron so that they both end up in a coma and Sorcha ends up having to be their carer. But she doesn’t say that at all.

  She goes, ‘I’d love to go and live in Australia. With Erika.’

  I’m like, ‘What? Seriously?’

  ‘She said it to me a few weeks ago that she’d love to have me out there. She knows – oh my God – loads about fashion. And business. She could actually help me establish my brand!’

  Talk about something just falling into your lap.

  I’m there, ‘Hey, I’d be totally cool with you going to Australia for a few months – maybe even until the end of the summer. It’s your choice, bear in mind.’

  She’s like, ‘Are you focking mad? She won’t let me go.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Er, your stupid bitch-whore of a wife?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Honor. I wouldn’t be so sure.’

  ‘Dad, there’s no way she’d let me go. Because she’s a focking bitch. A dried
-up, frigid, focking bitch.’

  ‘Look, why don’t you let me talk to your mother about it?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah, no, leave it to your old man.’

  It’s a win–win situation. That’s the point I’m trying to make to Sorcha. Except she’s having a hord time getting her head around that basic fact.

  ‘The whole reason for sending her to Australia is to punish her,’ she goes. ‘What good is it if she thinks we’re sending her there as a treat?’

  Fionn walks into the kitchen at that exact moment, carrying Hillary.

  I’m there, ‘I thought the whole reason for sending her to Australia was because this knob here threatened to move out and take his baby with him.’

  Fionn rolls his eyes and – seriously? – huffs at me. He’ll be lucky if I don’t throw a punch at him between now and the time my daughter leaves.

  He’s there, ‘The reason for sending her away is to protect my son.’

  Sorcha goes, ‘Honor told Ross, totally out of the blue, that she wants to go to Australia to spend the summer with Erika.’

  And Fionn’s there, ‘That’s good – that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, but I also wanted her to understand that she was being sent there as, like, a punishment?’

  ‘That’s between you and Ross. I don’t care as long as she’s no longer living under the same roof as my son.’

  I’d love to break every pane of glass in his face.

  I’m there, ‘The thing is, Sorcha, if we let her think that it’s her idea, there’s a very good chance she won’t end up hating us.’

  Sorcha goes, ‘That’s your main concern, Ross? After everything the girl has done – poisoning a baby, humiliating us in front of Bishop Brannigan and all those Mount Anville moms, tricking me into thinking that she wanted to have a proper mother–daughter relationship with me – the thing that most concerns you is that she actually still likes you?’

  I’m there, ‘I’m her best friend,’ even though I know that makes Sorcha jealous. ‘I’m probably the only friend she’s got in the world.’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ she goes.

  All of a sudden, the back door opens and in walk Sorcha’s old pair.

  I go, ‘I think I’d prefer it if you two dickheads knocked, then waited to be actually invited in?’

  They wouldn’t give me the pleasure of a response, of course.

  ‘Mom and Dad,’ Sorcha goes, ‘I want to ask your advice about something.’

  They both go, ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah, no, Honor told Ross that she wants to go to Australia to spend some time with Erika. This was before Ross told her that it was also what we wanted?’

  Her old dear goes, ‘So what’s the problem?’

  ‘The problem is that it was supposed to be a punishment. If she actually wants to go, then it’s obviously not. It’s suddenly a holiday, isn’t it? A holiday that we’re paying for.’

  Sorcha’s old man goes, ‘I thought the whole point of sending her was that we’re all sick to death of her and her carry-on.’

  I’m there, ‘Yeah, speak for your focking selves,’ because I find the things she does very funny when I’m not at the wrong end of them.

  ‘My advice,’ Sorcha’s old dear goes, ‘is that if she wants to go, then let her go. Because if she finds out that you want her to go, then she probably won’t go – just to spite you.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Sorcha goes, ‘that’s a very good point. Okay, Ross, tell her she can go to Australia. And let her think it’s her idea.’

  She nods at Honor’s laptop on the kitchen counter.

  ‘You can book her ticket now,’ she goes, and it breaks my hort because it’s like she can’t wait to be rid of her.

  I pick up the laptop and I tip upstairs.

  Honor is in Brian, Johnny and Leo’s room. They’re all watching TV together. Leo sees me, laughs, then goes, ‘Here’s this fockwit, look.’

  I’m there, ‘Sorry to interrupt, Honor. I’ve just been talking to your old dear.’

  Honor goes, ‘And did you ask her – if I could go to Australia?’

  ‘I did, yeah.’

  ‘And I bet she said no, didn’t she? I focking hate her. I hope she focking dies. No, I hope she gets some kind of disease that doesn’t kill her but makes her, like, wish she was dead?’

  ‘Honor, you didn’t let me finish.’

  ‘The Ebola virus.’

  ‘Honor, she said yes.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She said yes.’

  ‘Oh my God!’

  ‘She said you can go to Australia.’

  ‘Oh! My God!’

  ‘Are you not pleased?’

  ‘Yes, I’m pleased.’

  ‘You’re not worried that you might end up being possibly homesick?’

  ‘Homesick? Yeah, whatever! Can I borrow your phone so I can FaceTime Erika?’

  I’m there, ‘Your old dear’s already talked to her. She’s really looking forward to having you.’ And then I hold up her laptop. ‘Remember this thing? Let’s look at flights, will we?’

  We log on to the Qantas website.

  I’m there, ‘Okay, so when do you want to go?’

  She’s like, ‘As soon as focking possible. Is there a flight tonight?’

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘That’s what I said, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I was thinking more in terms of the weekend. What about, like, Sunday?’

  ‘Sunday? That’s, like, three days away!’

  ‘That’s not long, Honor.’

  ‘Oh! My God! I couldn’t stay here for three more days!’

  ‘I just thought, you know, it’d be a chance for us to spend a little bit of time together before you’re gone. We could do something fun – as in, me, you and the boys?’

  She just goes, ‘Fine.’

  I turn to the boys. I’m there, ‘What do you think, goys? How do you fancy going on a mystery tour this weekend?’

  And Brian and Leo – at the exact same time – go, ‘Ask. My focking. Hole.’

  Ronan’s like, ‘Soddy?’

  Yeah, no, I break the news to him over lunch in the UCD restaurant. He’s pretty shocked, it has to be said.

  ‘Austradia?’ he goes. ‘Are you seerdious?’

  I’m like, ‘Yeah, no, she’s going over to stay with Erika for a few months.’

  ‘A few munts?’

  ‘Until the end of the summer.’

  ‘Is it cos of what happened at the Conferbation?’

  ‘Yeah, no, sort of? As in, it was one of a build-up of things. Including possibly poisoning Sorcha and Fionn’s baby – although I seem to be the only one who thinks she’s genuinely innocent.’

  ‘Hodor woultn’t do sometin like that, Rosser. Hodor wouldn’t be capable of hoorting an iddocent little babby.’

  ‘You’re preaching to the choir, Ro. I actually believe her when she says she was looking up poisons to try to kill Sorcha’s parents. But Fionn forced Sorcha’s hand. He said he was going to apply for full custody on the basis that Honor was a danger to Hillary.’

  ‘So the solution is that Hodor gets sent off to Austradia?’

  ‘It turns out that she wanted to go anyway. She was the one who suggested it. So we’re letting her think it was her idea.’

  The restaurant, by the way, is open again and the picket has gone. Sushi, spaghetti and all the other supposedly racist food items have been removed from the menu and now it’s just, like, Irish stuff, most of which I’ve never focking heard of before. I end up ordering the Irish stew with a Waterford blaa, while Ronan goes for the boxty with bacon and a side of colcannon.

  ‘How’s yours?’ Ronan goes.

  And I’m there, ‘It’s absolutely focking revolting. This is what I imagine the Healy-Raes live on. How’s the – what’s it called again – boxty?’

  He looks over both shoulders to make sure the famous Huguette isn’t within earshot, then he goes, ‘It’s the
woorst thig I’ve ebber eaten in me bleaten life, Rosser.’

  We both laugh. He puts down his knife and fork and pushes the plate into the middle of the table. I do the same.

  Totally out of the blue then, he goes, ‘Hee-or, Rosser, did I tell you that Heddessy’s arthur offerton me a job?’

  I’m like, ‘You don’t need a job. You’ve still got another year of college left.’

  ‘He’s arthur offerton me an appredentership, but – as a solicitodder. When I fiddish me thegree.’

  ‘When did all this happen?’

  ‘I’d a thrink wit your ould fedda last week and Heddessy was theer as well. He says Ine the koyunt of fedda he’s feerm is altwees looking foe-er.’

  I get this sudden flashback to Transition Year, when I did work experience in Hennessy’s office in Fitzwilliam Square and spent the entire month in the cor pork, burning documents in a barrel to stop them falling into the hands of the Criminal Assets Bureau. I was the only kid in Castlerock College who filled in his Work Experience Report Form at gunpoint.

  I’m there, ‘Ro, don’t get sucked in by Hennessy and my old man, okay?’

  He goes, ‘Heddessy says he’d put me troo Blackhall Place and hab me on a fuddle toyum wage until Ine fuddy quadified.’

  ‘Just be careful, Ro. They’re up to something.’

  ‘What are thee up to?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s something to do with Russia. Erika found out about it, but I forget the actual details. I just know that it was dodgy shit and it was the reason she focked off to Australia.’

  ‘Heddessy ast me if I’d be inthordested in learden Rushidden alreet.’

  ‘There you go, then. Just be careful, Ro. The old man has changed since he put that wig on his head. It’s like he’s on some kind of power trip.’

  ‘You know he’s thalken about habbon anutter kid, Rosser.’

  ‘He’s not having another kid. He’s firing blanks.’

  ‘He was tedding me he’s on some bleaten diet to throy to improve the quadity of he’s speerm. He wadn’t thrinking the night I merrum – he was on the minner doddle wather.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The minner doddle wather.’

  ‘Okay, I’ve no idea what you’re saying and I’m not interested enough in that focker to ask you to repeat it again.’