Game of Throw-ins Read online

  ‘I don’t think I would ever use such a phrase,’ the old dear tries to go.

  ‘That’s a direct quote.’

  ‘Well, I wasn’t in my right mind,’ she goes, looking around the room for support. ‘Neither of us was. We were in rehab, for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘Except she didn’t need to wait till she got out,’ Tiffany Blue goes. ‘Grandpa came to visit that afternoon. As soon as she found out what he was worth, she had her hooks in.’

  ‘You don’t know the first thing about it!’ the old dear tries to go. ‘You don’t know how Ari and I feel about each other!’

  ‘I can’t believe I actually introduced you. Your face lit up when you heard two billion. I caught you Googling him. Do you remember that? In the computer room.’

  ‘I was interested in him. He was a gentleman and there aren’t too many of those left in the world.’

  ‘You got the life you wanted – restaurants, clothes, jewel-lery …’

  I’m there, ‘Gin,’ just letting the girl know whose side I’m on.

  She goes, ‘Okay, I’m not the most perfect person in the world. I’ve made mistakes and, yes, I’ve hurt Grandpa. But I am not going to stand back and watch you steal his money.’

  ‘Your money!’ the old dear roars. ‘That’s what you really mean, isn’t it?’

  Sorcha goes, ‘Sometimes it helps, Fionnuala, to let what the opposite side has just said land for a moment before you respond.’

  She totally blanks her.

  ‘Because that’s what this is really about,’ the old dear goes – her face has gone all, I don’t know, lizardy? She hasn’t had anything to drink for six or seven minutes. ‘The money that you thought was coming to you! Well, here’s the news – your inheritance is perfectly safe!’

  Tiffany Blue goes, ‘Excuse me?’ obviously surprised by this news.

  Ari goes, ‘That’s right. Fionnuala wants to sign a prenup. I didn’t ask her. She insisted. I said no – ain’t no way. But she didn’t want people questioning her motives. So she said to me, no prenup, no wedding.’

  There are a lot of surprised faces in the room. It’s hilarious how all my old dear’s friends think the worst of her.

  Tiffany Blue ends up being more shocked than anyone. She looks at the old dear and goes, ‘So you … get nothing?’

  ‘Correction,’ the old dear goes, all delighted with herself, ‘I get to share my life with this wonderful, wonderful man. But as for money, no, I won’t get a cent when he dies. I hope that puts everyone’s mind at rest – including yours, Ross. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to get on with celebrating my engagement!’

  Sorcha is sitting at the vanity table, taking off her make-up. I’m trying to decide if I should make a move on her or just go to sleep.

  I’m very pissed, but very horny, and I’m trying to figure out which is the stronger – I don’t know – emotion?

  ‘Oh my God,’ she goes. ‘What an amazing night!’

  I’m there, ‘I thought it was a bit of an anti-climax in the end.’

  ‘A prenup, Ross! Oh my God, how romantic!’

  ‘I still think Tiffany Blue accepted it too easily.’

  ‘Well, she’s going back to California tomorrow with her tail well and truly between her legs.’

  ‘I still say the old dear’s up to something. That’s my analysis. There’s no way she’d be marrying this dude if he was poor.’

  Sorcha steps into the walk-in wardrobe to take off her clothes.

  She’s there, ‘By the way, Lauren is home from France for a week. She said she had lunch in town with her dad yesterday and her sandwich came served on a table-tennis bat with the rubber torn off it.’

  ‘God,’ I go, ‘that takes me back.’

  ‘That’s what I mean. It’s got to be a sign that things are returning to the way they were. The next thing we know, it’ll be … Oh! My God!’

  She suddenly appears at the door of the walk-in wardrobe with a look of shock on her face and also no top on – her garbos hanging there for all the world to see.

  I think horny is going to win out.

  I’m like, ‘What’s wrong? Is there a spider in there?’

  Her actual response is something I’m definitely not expecting.

  ‘Ross,’ she goes, ‘where have all my bras gone?’

  I actually laugh. I’m like, ‘What the fock are you talking about?’

  ‘I just went to put my bra away and the drawer is practically empty. All my good ones are missing, including the ones you let me put on your credit cord as a Christmas present.’

  Oh, holy shit. I suddenly remember Caleb being in the room this afternoon. I knew he was acting shifty and it looked like he’d come from the direction of the walk-in wardrobe.

  She goes, ‘Who’s been stealing my bras, Ross?’

  And I’m there, ‘Come on, Sorcha, is it not obvious? I found him poking around in here this afternoon.’

  ‘Who are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m talking about your little boyfriend.’

  ‘Caleb?’

  ‘Yes, Caleb. You heard what his mother said – he’s got the big-time hots for you. Even she agreed that he was weird.’

  ‘Why do you always think the worst of people, Ross? Your mother? Caleb?’

  ‘Are you sure you’re not just saying that out of guilt?’

  ‘Guilt? What do I have to feel guilty about?’

  ‘Look, I’m not saying you led the kid on, but you could have made it clearer to him that you weren’t interested.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I told you from nearly day one that he was into you. He thought he had a shot at the title and you should have told him in no uncertain terms that he didn’t. Except I think a little bit of you was flattered by the attention.’

  ‘Okay, I’m a huge believer in non-violence, Ross – my heroes are the likes of Aung San Suu Kyi, Sophie Scholl and obviously Anna Politskovskaya – but I have never wanted to slap someone across the face so hord in my life.’

  I pick up the bedside phone and I dial 911.

  Sorcha goes, ‘What are you doing?’

  I’m there, ‘What do you think I’m doing? I’m ringing the Feds.’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t think we need to get the Gords involved?’

  ‘Are you shitting me? How much were those bras worth?’

  ‘I don’t know – a few hundred euros. But Caleb is just a child, Ross. This could ruin his life.’

  ‘Good. It’ll hopefully teach him a lesson – like not to be a creepy little focker who steals women’s underwear. By the way, that’s exactly how serial killers get storted. Okay, why isn’t 911 working?’

  ‘Because that’s the number for emergencies in the States. Seriously, Ross, you watch far too much TV.’

  ‘Okay, well, what’s the equivalent of 911 in Ireland then? There must be an equivalent.’

  ‘I’m not telling you the equivalent.’

  ‘Why won’t you tell me the equivalent?’

  ‘Because,’ she goes, ‘I don’t want the police involved. He’s a ten-year-old boy, Ross. And, anyway, we still don’t know for sure that he took them.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re still defending him.’

  ‘I’m not defending him. I’m just saying there might be another explanation as to what happened to my bras. Like, for instance, I did that big clear-out of my wardrobe last week – do you remember the clothes appeal for the victims of Typhoon Hagupit?’

  ‘No, but continue.’

  ‘I sent seven bags of clothes. I could easily have –’

  ‘What, accidentally put all of your good bras into one of the bags?’

  ‘It’s possible. Ross, my mind is all over the place with the job of raising four children.’

  ‘That still doesn’t explain why I caught him in our bedroom looking shifty.’

  ‘He told you that Honor asked him to get something.’

  ‘Sorcha, you always want to believe the best of people
. You’re a complete sucker and I mean that in an almost nice way.’

  ‘All I’m saying is that we can’t go accusing him without any proof.’

  ‘Okay, you want proof? We’ll get proof.’

  ‘And how are you going to do that?’

  ‘The next time he’s here, we’ll leave him on his own for a while and see what he does.’

  ‘But would that not constitute entrapment?’

  ‘You can call it entrapment if you want. I’m going to call it catching the little focker in the act.’

  6

  Netflix and Chill

  It’s, like, three o’clock on Wednesday afternoon and I’m in UCD. It’s actually worth repeating that, given that I barely set foot in the place when I was supposedly enrolled here.

  I’m in UCD.

  I’m playing pool, though, so there’s nothing to panic about.

  I drove up to have a bit of lunch with a few of the goys, we’re talking Dilly and Gilly, our two second rows, who are both doing Engineering, we’re talking Rob Fortune and Johnny Bliss, our two centres, who are both doing Commerce, and we’re talking Senny, obviously our number ten, who’s doing Orts.

  Lunch turned into a few pints of the Lovely Bubbly in The Clubhouse in the Student Centre, which then turned into a winner-keeps-table pool competition.

  Which I happen to be winning hands-down.

  ‘This place has changed so much,’ I go, as I sink the black, then take yet another ten yoyos – this time from Rob Fortune. ‘When I was here, there were a lot more people drinking during the day. People used to be half-shitfaced going into lectures. Does anyone want another one? I feel guilty taking all this money from you.’

  Dilly and Gilly are like, ‘Actually, we’d better head off. We’ve got a Functional Anatomy and Kinesiology lecture at three o’clock.’

  I look at the other goys as if to say, ‘See what I mean?’

  A third-level education is wasted on some people.

  Blissy storts racking the balls up again and goes, ‘So, Rossi, what do you, em, do? I’m talking actually do?’

  He’s obviously wondering how I’m free to be hanging around UCD with a bunch of young goys on a weekday afternoon.

  ‘Yeah, no, pretty much nothing,’ I go. ‘Well, actually nothing – fock-all, to be more specific.’

  They’ve obviously been talking about this among themselves, because Rob goes, ‘So, like, do you have a girlfriend or are you married or what?’

  I laugh. I’m there, ‘Okay, this is going to make me sound really old, I realize, but I’m actually married with five kids.’

  ‘Five kids?’ all three of them go at exactly the same time. ‘Five?’

  ‘I’ve got, like, four kids with my wife, including triplets, and I had a son with a woman – she was a bit of a skank – when I was, like, sixteen. He’s a great kid. He’s doing his Leaving in June. He’ll possibly end up coming here. Or even Trinners. I might actually have other kids, but those are the known cases.’

  I break, sending the balls everywhere and a stripe into the bottom-corner pocket.

  Senny goes, ‘So, like, what do you do for money?’

  I’m there, ‘Absolutely nothing, to be fair to me. I inherited a gaff. It’s a not-too-shabby pile of bricks on the old Vico Road. No mortgage. My old man pays all the other bills and gives me ten grand a month to keep things ticking over. Yeah, no, he’s loaded.’

  They all shake their heads like I’m the luckiest man in the world. I sink a second ball, then a third, before missing an easy enough pot over the middle pocket.

  ‘So what about this weekend?’ I go, because we’re playing Barnhall on Friday night. ‘How are you feeling about the match?’

  It’s Blissy’s turn at the table.

  ‘Barnhall are good,’ he goes. ‘I mean, they kicked the shit out of us before Christmas. They scored, I don’t know, forty-something points.’

  He sinks a spot but manages to also pocket the cue ball.

  I’m like, ‘Forty-something? That’s ridiculous.’

  He goes, ‘They’re a pretty physical team. And by the way, their number two is as wide as he is tall.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Seriously, Rossi, he’s, like, eighteen or nineteen stone, but it’s pure muscle.’

  I nod. Then I sink a long ball. I’m like, ‘That’s good to know. It’s good information for me to have.’

  I clean up the table. Blissy hands me my tenner, then him and Rob end up having to head off, leaving me and Senny on our ownio.

  I’m there, ‘What about you, Dude – have you got a lecture this afternoon? Because I actually don’t mind. I could hang around here until you’re finished.’

  He shakes his head as he racks up again. ‘It’s like I told my old pair,’ he goes. ‘There’s no point in me breaking my balls this year. If things work out the way I’m expecting them to, I’m going to be joining the Leinster Academy next year. I’ll be dropping out of college anyway.’

  I’m there, ‘Can I say something to you, Senny? I really love your attitude.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You remind me so much of myself at that age. I was the exact same. I never went to a single lecture.’

  ‘Hey, I’m just focused on becoming a professional rugby player. I know a lot of people might consider that arrogant.’

  ‘It’s not arrogance if you’ve got the talent to back it up. I used to always say that.’

  ‘Playing rugby is all I’ve ever wanted to do – since I was, like, six years old.’

  ‘Seriously, this is like history repeating itself. What I would say, in terms of advice, is don’t be afraid to enjoy the lifestyle.’

  And as I’m saying it, two birds walk into the bor. One of them is disgraceful-looking, but the other one, I can’t help but notice, is an absolute ringer for Kacey Barnfield.

  ‘What do you mean by the lifestyle?’ Senny goes, obviously a bit slow on the uptake.

  ‘I’m talking about everything that comes with being a number ten,’ I go, studying Kacey’s orse as she strides confidently up to the bor. ‘Don’t get serious with just one bird.’

  ‘Too late.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yeah, no, I’m with this girl called Torah.’

  ‘Torah?’

  ‘We’ve been together since we were, like, fifteen.’

  ‘The same bird? What the fock are you thinking?’

  He laughs. He goes, ‘We’re really happy, Rossi. She’s actually really good for me.’

  ‘Yeah, so is focking broccoli,’ I go, ‘but you couldn’t eat it for every meal. I presume you’re still doing little bits and pieces on the side, though?’ and, as I say it, I flick my head in the direction of Kacey Barnfield. ‘A bit of extra-curricular. I used to call it cardio!’

  He’s there, ‘No, no interest. I mean, we’re practically living together.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yeah, no, I live on campus and Torah stays over pretty much four nights a week. She’s doing Orts.’

  ‘Well, whatever makes you happy. Personally, I think you’re mad.’

  I break. I don’t pot anything.

  ‘Hey, Rossi,’ he goes, ‘do you like Drake?’

  I’m there, ‘I’ve never had it. My old dear usually does a goose on Christmas Eve. She’s an unbelievable cook, the ugly focking sow.’

  This answer causes Senny to totally miscue and not hit anything. He laughs, then goes, ‘I’m talking about the music – that tune that’s on. You’ve never heard of Drake?’

  ‘Yeah, no, I think I have. Where are they from again?’

  ‘Drake is a he, Ross, not a they. He’s from Canada.’

  ‘Yeah, I did actually know that. I’ve, em, fallen a bit behind in terms of my knowledge of the music scene and blah, blah, blah. I might borrow the CD from you.’

  ‘CD? Seriously, Rossi, you’re focking hilarious.’

  Kacey Barnfield keeps looking over. I’ve got what they call peripheral vision. She’s
interested in one of us and I’m guessing it’s me.

  I pot a long ball into an end pocket, then I say something to Senny that’s been on my mind. ‘Look, Dude,’ I go, ‘I was possibly out of order saying that your Leinster Schools Senior Cup runners-up medal wasn’t worth shit. A Leinster Schools Senior Cup medal is a Leinster Schools Senior Cup medal – doesn’t matter what the colour is.’

  It’s horseshit. I know it even as I’m saying it.

  He goes, ‘No, you were right, Rossi. A runners-up medal isn’t worth a fock.’

  ‘Okay,’ I go, ‘have it your way.’

  ‘In fact, you were right in all the things you said to me that day. Nearly won a senior cup medal. Nearly made the academy. Nearly made the team at Lansdowne. By the way, I nearly made the Irish schools team as well.’

  ‘You played unbelievably well against City of Derry. Your second-half performance especially – I just hope someone from the Leinster branch was either there or saw what you did on YouTube if anyone recorded it on their phone.’

  ‘A lot of that performance was down to you. You woke me up to myself. When you said that shit to me that day, it really struck a chord.’

  ‘I presume that’s why you tried to deck me.’

  ‘I got home that night and I told Torah the entire conversation. And as I was telling her what you said, I realized that the reason it got to me was that you were right. I’ve proved nothing in the game.’

  ‘You’ve got time on your side.’

  ‘The problem is, Rossi, I’ve always bottled it at the vital moment. Schools Cup final – missed an easy kick with, like, a minute left that would have won it for us. Academy trial – same shit. Had a total mare. I think that’s why I never made the first team at Lansdowne. They don’t think I have the big-match temperament.’

  And I’m like, ‘Well, Dude, keeping Seapoint in Division 2B of the All Ireland League is your chance to prove that you do.’

  I clear up the table, then I tell Senny that it’s my round and I tip up to the bor.

  ‘Two pints of the Hydrogen,’ I go.

  The bor dude sets them up.

  I look to my left and Kacey is smiling in my direction. The ugly mate doesn’t look happy – but then ugly mates never do. It must be a lonely life.