Rhino What You Did Last Summer Read online

  I’m there, ‘It was you, with all your, I have a Tracy Reese just like that one – but it’s one of those dresses that has, like, hanger appeal…’

  ‘Ross!’

  ‘Anyone can pull off a silk Miu Miu – you just have to be confident in the way you accessorize… He must have thought we were just friends.’

  ‘We are just friends.’

  ‘You know what I mean. He thought I was your gay friend.’

  ‘For once in your life,’ she goes, ‘do the gentlemanly thing. Quick, before your apple transparent arrives.’

  I don’t believe it – she actually guilts me into it. I end up having to get up, roysh, and tip back across the road to the shop.

  Harvey’s down the back, checking himself out in the mirror and sort of, like, dancing – pretty well as it happens – to the Sound Bluntz version of ‘Billie Jean’.

  I suppose once you know, you stort to see the little signs?

  This isn’t me being big-headed, but his face lights up when he sees me. This is, like, a totally new experience for me – as in letting someone down gently. ‘Okay, I just want to check,’ I go. ‘Are you – okay, I’m going to have to say the word – gay?’

  He laughs.

  ‘Ross,’ he goes, really, I suppose, camping up his voice for my benefit, ‘I’m as gay as Mulholland Drive!’

  I’m there, ‘So that’s a yes, then. Okay, second question – you don’t think that was, like, a date we arranged to go on, do you?’

  I think I might have hurt his feelings. ‘It was coffee,’ he goes, shrugging his shoulders. ‘What’s the big deal?’

  He’s not actually hurt? He’s taking it unbelievably well, in fairness to him.

  ‘Because it’s probably only fair to point out,’ I go, ‘that I’m actually straight?’

  ‘You’re straight?’

  ‘Famously – believe me.’

  ‘Okay, well, that’s a surprise…’

  ‘I don’t know why it’s a surprise,’ I go. ‘Was it because I was in here shopping with a bird?’

  ‘It was lot of things?’ he goes. ‘I mean, you dress well.’

  ‘Guilty.’

  ‘You clearly look after your body.’

  ‘Guilty again.’

  ‘And your hair.’

  ‘Three guilties – that’s Blockbusters.’

  He’s there, ‘My gaydar is usually pretty accurate. It’s the first time I’ve ever been wrong.’

  ‘Well, thank fock for that. No offence – that’s what a lot of birds back home will be thinking…’

  He goes, ‘You’re straight – but you’re not narrow, right?’

  I’m there, ‘As in…’

  ‘Well, you’re not narrow-minded?’ he goes.

  I’m there, ‘Of course I’m not.’

  ‘So there’s no big deal in us hanging out, right?’

  One or two people in the shop are looking at us, listening in, including a bird who’s a ringer for Ana Ivanovié, which is why the conversation ends up turning weird. ‘Er, exactly,’ I go.

  ‘It’s just two guys getting a coffee, right?’

  ‘I’m cool with that.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘You better believe I’m sure. We’re going to get that coffee.’

  ‘That’d be nice.’

  ‘It’s happening.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘I’ve got your cord.’

  ‘That’s good too.’

  ‘I’m going to put it in my wallet.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘You can count on it.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘And I’ll ring you. It’ll be out of the blue. Bang! Coffee – tonight, tomorrow, whatever. I love my coffee.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Be ready, then.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it. Have a nice day.’

  I hold my hand up.

  ‘Oh, we’re high-fiving now,’ he goes, like he’s never actually done it before?

  So we high-five and I go, ‘A focking coffee it is, then!’

  Then I tip back over to Sorcha. My apple transparent has arrived and I tuck straight in. She asks me how it went and I tell her unbelievably well. ‘I should be used to it by now,’ I go, ‘being desired by people in general. It’s like, why should it just be women?’

  ‘And you let him down easy?’ she goes.

  It’s hord to talk with, like, a mouthful of apple. I’m there, ‘We’re still probably going to get a coffee. It’s just he knows now that nothing’s going to happen in the other deportment.’

  Her face lights up like a pimped-up Hummer. ‘Oh my God, Ross – you’ve got a bromance.’

  I’m like, ‘A what?’

  She’s there, ‘A bromance! Like Brad and George! Like Ben and Matt! Ross has a bromance! Oh! My God!’

  I’m like, ‘Whatever,’ but at the same time I’m even laughing.

  Then she’s suddenly serious. She digs her nails into my orm and goes, ‘Kevin Sorbo – two tables over.’

  My phone rings and of course I make the mistake of answering it. Of all people, it’s Erika – crying, by the sounds of her.

  ‘Ross,’ she goes.

  Bear in mind, roysh, that this girl has never been nice to me before. This thing has really taken her down a peg or two.

  ‘What do you want?’ I go.

  She’s there, ‘I ended up having a huge row with my mum.’

  I’m like, ‘So I heard.’

  ‘I called her a… Well, it doesn’t matter what I called her. I’m staying in the Merrion.’

  I actually nearly laugh. With most people, it’d be a mate’s sofa. Or even the floor. With her, it has to be the Merrion. I’d say they’ll be seeing a lot of her in Guilbaud’s, crying into her, whatever, Cévennes onion and almond soup.

  ‘Dad said you’re in Los Angeles,’ she goes.

  Dad? He’s Dad already?

  I’m there, ‘Yeah, what about it?’

  She’s like, ‘Nothing,’ but it’s obvious, roysh, that she’s looking for an invite. She asks me if I’ve told Sorcha yet and I tell her yeah.

  ‘She left me one or two voice messages,’ she goes. ‘I wondered should I…’

  ‘Do not ring her back,’ I quickly go. ‘And I’m saying that for your sake.’

  ‘My sake? Why?’

  ‘She’s seriously pissed off with you. Yeah, in fact, she said your friendship was basically over.’

  She’s quiet for what seems like ages. ‘But, Ross,’ she goes, ‘none of this is my fault.’

  ‘Look, that’s women for you,’ I go. ‘They don’t need an excuse to do the shit they do. You should know that as well as anyone.’

  ‘Maybe if I went over there…’

  I’m like, ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  She’s there, ‘I need to see you, Ross.’

  I’m like, ‘Why? Why do you need to see me?’

  She goes, ‘Because you’re my brother. We need to, I don’t know, get to know each other.’

  She’s had half her life to do that, but she was never interested. I’m there, ‘Erika, I’ve got to go.’

  Oh my God, isn’t arugula great?

  It’s when I hear lines like that that I wonder will Sorcha even come home. It’s, like, everything she’s ever wanted is here – as in the life she always dreamed of?

  We’re all sitting around the pool at the back of her big fock-off mansion and I’m looking at her, holding her basil punica with extra pomegranate syrup, laughing so hord at something Analyn said that her lips can’t find the straw. She’s got a tan, white teeth, even collarbones, which she always said were, oh my God, impossible for a girl to have in a country like Ireland.

  And all these new friends. There’s, like I said, Analyn and her also portner Mike – she’s our age, he’s at least fifty, maybe more, and he’s just left his wife after twenty-two years and is having fertility treatment. There’s Jenny, who’s, like, Chinese – or one of those – an auctioneer who
se specialty is Song and Yuan period Chinese porcelain. Her two kids are Poet, who’s nearly three, and Tsunami, who’s nearly two. There’s Elodine and Steve, who’ve just given up their jobs to pursue their lifetime dream of running their own organic restaurant and whose daughter, Jagger, is playing with Honor in the little paddling pool. And there’s Emmy, who works in Fred Segal but wants to get into acting – yeah, I’m sensing a pattern in this town – and who’s got great tennis orms, like she could have actually gone to Loreto Foxrock.

  They’re all cool and what I really, really like about them is that they’re interested in me. I mean, yeah, they’re also talking about the evils of transfats, how much they all love Dave Eggers and how for-profit medicine is detroying the fabric of our society, but they’re also asking me, you know, how I’m loving the States, then a bit about my rugby.

  Mike says that Andorra sounds like a real case of David against Goliath, which is a story from, like, the Bible, and I probably don’t need to tell you that Cillian is bulling about all this attention I’m getting. He’s got his two mates there as well – the dudes that Sorcha was banging on about – as in, Josh and Kyle, who’re basically just two random jocks. Kyle, who’s supposed to have been a pretty good American footballer in college, is suddenly talking to Steve and Mike, explaining how Mortgage Company A can turn its income stream from its loans business into a lump sum by selling the rights to that cash flow to a Special Purpose Vehicle, which then places the money into trust. The trust then pays for the right to the mortgages by issuing bonds that receive the cash flow from the assets minus administrative costs.

  Of course, I might as well be listening to Honor speaking Chinese or Spanish.

  Josh, who all the birds think is a ringer for Ian Ziering – in other words, a grinning, blond idiot – says that you can increase your profits by slicing and dicing these asset-backed securities into tranches, which is what CDOs basically are.

  Steve asks what kind of profits are we talking and Kyle says if he’s interested, they should maybe meet up and he hands him his business cord. Mike asks if they’re triple-A rated and Josh says yeah and Mike says his job must still be pretty stressful and Kyle holds up his can and says he always needs a few of these by the end of the week.

  ‘Work hard, play hard,’ he goes, then he turns around and high-fives Josh, and of course then Cillian has to get in on the act as well. I never saw him once high-five anyone in Ireland – it’s just not the auditor way – and I suddenly realize that who he’s trying to copy isn’t me at all, it’s these two tosspots.

  ‘Cillian, I see you’ve storted to drink beer,’ is all I go. ‘A man’s drink,’ which he decides to ignore.

  Elodine tells Sorcha that she brought her that Jubi catalogue and Sorcha says yeah, she’s been wondering whether Honor’s crankiness lately is, like, an allergy thing? I tell her it’s probably just, like, the terrible twos – even though she’s not two yet – but then Elodine says that Jubi make towels and toddler robes using, like, water-based bleaches and safe dyes, which Sorcha seems to like the sound of more.

  The conversation moves somehow onto, like, furniture and how amazing Crate and Barrel is, then Steve says that even though he really loves Crate and Barrel, there’s no shame in Ikea and Elodine laughs and goes, ‘We’re beginning to sound like one of those – what do you call them? – dual income, zero orgasm couples you read about in The New Yorker!’

  ‘Going back to the whole allergy thing,’ Jenny goes, ‘I want to get Poet and Tsunami a dog, but it’s, like, so hard to find a good hypoallergenic breed. I thought maybe, like, a bichon frisé?’

  Mike goes, ‘Jed, my eldest son from my first marriage, we bought, like, a labrador for him? But his dander set off Jeff’s allergic rhinitis. Our physician, who’d been our physician for years, suggested we try a soft-coated wheaten terrier. We did. Never! Had! A problem! They’re a beautiful dog. And just great with kids…’

  Emmy asks Elodine then how the restaurant plans are coming along and Elodine says that they’re hoping to be open by, like, March, or April at the latest.

  Then Steve goes, ‘Hey, speaking of restaurants, has anyone got reservations yet for the Blue Orchid on Wilshire?’ He says we’ve got to try this place, then Elodine says that you know you’re in a good ethnic restaurant when there are, like, no white people in there, which at first I think might be racist, roysh, but then, when I see Jenny nodding, I realize isn’t?

  Steve’s there, ‘Their black pepper squid has to be tasted to be believed.’

  ‘What about you, Ross?’ Mike goes, again, including me in things. ‘Do you cook?’

  ‘Me?’ I go. ‘Sorcha will tell you, I use the smoke alarm as a timer,’ and it would not be an exaggeration to say that every one there just cracks their holes laughing. I’m thinking, it’s weird, roysh, I’m actually even funnier over here than I am at home.

  But Cillian has to, like, steal the attention back, of course. He’s all, ‘Hey, Steve, I met that personal shopper you recommended at Brooks Brothers,’ with one eye on me and Steve’s like, ‘I hope he gave you the discount,’ and Cillian’s there, ‘He looked after me – don’t you worry,’ and you’d swear the focker was actually from LA instead of, like, Cabinteely.

  The next thing, roysh, we hear all this screaming. It’s Jagger, basically bawling her eyes out. It turns out that Honor turned around, totally out of the blue, and pulled her hair, then belted her across the face. Honor’s totally lost it, screaming like a mad thing. Cillian’s about to go over to her, but I’m out of that chair like you wouldn’t believe, thinking, er, I’m her father? You just happen to be the dude who moved in on her mother, getting her at a weak moment, Pricewaterhousewho-gives-a-fock!

  I pick her up in my orms, even though she’s, like, soaking wet, and I’m, like, bouncing her up and down, making shite talk, the usual things you do with kids to try to calm them down.

  ‘That’s exactly what she’s like,’ Sorcha goes to Elodine. ‘One minute she’s fine, then she’s, like, zero to possessed in, like, thirty seconds…’

  ‘Are you using time-outs?’ Analyn goes.

  Sorcha’s like, ‘No, Cillian and I discussed it? But we decided against it.’

  Cillian makes sure to have a good look at me, pretty much begging to be decked.

  ‘I was going to say,’ Analyn goes, ‘most of the nurturing books that Mike and I have been reading think it’s not a good idea. It’s like, what if it doesn’t work? What is your next option? A monster time-out?’

  Sorcha’s there, ‘No, we’ve chosen the route of rewarding her with strong praise when she does the right thing, so as to positively reinforce good behaviour. But it’s so difficult because my instinct right now is to tell her that what she did was very naughty.’

  ‘You can’t go using negatives,’ Analyn goes, and even Steve and Elodine nod like they agree.

  Sorcha’s going, ‘Honor, can you say, “Lo siento, Jagger. Lo siento,”’ but Honor’s still screaming and wriggling in my orms like a landed fish, so I tell Sorcha that I’m going to take her for a walk.

  I bring her into the kitchen and have a mooch around. It’s like the Storship focking Enterprise in there, she’s got that many gadgets.

  ‘Is this it?’ I’m thinking.

  It’s not. It’s a panini press.

  ‘What about this?’

  No, it’s a waffle-maker.

  ‘This must be it.’

  Yes, it is. The De’Longhi Magnifica Cappuccino Maker – just the focking job. Honor immediately calms down when she sees it. It’s like I’ve just produced a breast.

  I’m going, ‘Can you say “Daddy”? Can you say “Daddy”, Honor?’ but it’s obvious that all she can think about is the coffee that’s coming.

  The machine turns out to be pretty simple to work. I grab one of the little espresso cups and I’m about to hit the button for a small one when I suddenly think, fock it, and I pour her a double instead. I blow on it to, like, cool it, because you have to be car
eful with kids, then, after looking over both shoulders, I put it up to her lips.

  She honestly can’t get it into her quick enough.

  I grab a piece of kitchen roll, run it under the tap and wipe the little bit she spilled down the side of her mouth. Then I bring her back outside.

  Would you believe me if I told you that the first words she says when we go outside are Lo siento?

  Well, if you could see the reaction. Let’s just say the words miracle and worker are bandied about like there’s no actual tomorrow?

  They’re all mad, of course, to find out my secret and there’s me – Patch focking Adams – going, ‘I’ve always had a way with women,’ which they all laugh at, even though it is actually true.

  Cillian has to try and steal the limelight again, bringing up the whole subprime-mortgage-whatever-the-fock, basically showing off what he knows. He’s all, ‘You can criticize the lowering of lending criteria all you like. The fact is that without offering cheap money to lower-income families, the housing market – and obviously the building industry – would have stagnated,’ and it’s, like, who gives a fock?

  After, like, an hour or so, people stort to drift off, making their excuses. Jenny says she’s sorry to be such a loser face, but she has global dance aerobics at eight. Barneys – finally! – have the Lulu Guinness 1950s-style pleated tote that Emmy ordered, like, forever ago? And Steve and Elodine are spending the weekend in Dry Creek Valley, which is absolutely, one hunnered per cent, undiscovered Cabernet country.

  But Steve also says that it was a real pleasure to meet me and Mike says it was great talking to someone who understands sports and maybe we should take in a game while I’m here and Emmy says it was great to finally meet me and she hopes to see me again, which is all good.

  So it’s, like, major fan worship.

  Cillian’s mates barely even grunt at me, although it’s not like I give a fock.

  As they’re saying goodbye, Sorcha tells Elodine and Analyn that she loves them, then they say it back, like they do in The Hills, although I think it’s weird, roysh, because they’ve only known each other, like, a few weeks.

  I’m thinking maybe I should hit the bricks as well, but Sorcha tells me I should stay a while, have another strawberry vice. Cillian has, like, work to do and it’ll be nice to have a bit of company after she puts Honor down.