This is most definitely not how it was supposed to be? Yeah, no, Sorcha dreamt that one day she would have a daughter who would follow in her footsteps as head girl of Mount Anville, but she’s actually dreading what’s going to happen tonight, when Honor delivers the valedictory at the sixth-year graduation.
“Can I even read your speech?” Sorcha goes.
But Honor’s like, “There’s no speech. What I have to say is all in my head.”
This is us in the cor, by the way, on the way to the school.
Honor goes, ‘People will talk about my speech for years to come. And that’s just in the libel courts’
Ross O’Carroll-Kelly: ‘My old dear doesn’t have the embarrassment gene. It’s a South Dublin thing’
Honor is staring at Brett like he’s an ATM and she’s sitting in a JCB, trying to work the levers
It’s finally here, the day that I meet my brother slash half-brother
I’m there, “What, you’re going to freestyle it? In fairness, I did something similar before Seapoint played Bruff in the famous Division 2B relegation clash back in the day. People were in actual tears.”
Sorcha looks at me like I’m the postman telling her there’s duty owed on one of her online purchases.
She’s like, “That’s not focking helpful, Ross.”
I’m there, “Fine, I’ll stay out of it. Will there be drink at this thing?”
Yeah, no, Sorcha’s driving tonight.
Honor goes, “No, no drink – that’s why I preloaded.”
I thought I smelled vodka when she was getting into the cor.
Sorcha’s less worried about her daughter having a few straighteners than she is about what people might think of her skills as a mother. Yes, we’re those kind of people.
She goes, “I really wish you’d written a speech?”
Honor’s like, “What, so you could redline it? So you could censor my thoughts?”
Sorcha’s there, “No one is talking about censorship, Honor. I’d just like to know what you’re going to say in advance, forewarned being foreormed.”
Honor’s like, “All I will tell you is that there’s going to be a little something in it for everyone.”
Honor is quite nasty with drink on her. Takes after her grandmother
I’m there, “That’s nice, Honor,” because I have faith in our daughter, even though she’s never given me any cause for it.
She’s like, “The fakers. The sleeveens. The hypocrites. They’re all going to get a mench tonight.”
“Or,” Sorcha goes, “you could choose to say something inspirational. You could say something that touches people’s horts, that defines what it means to be a member of the Mount Anville class of 2025, that makes people feel – I want to say – uplifted? You want people to talk about it in years to come, don’t you?”
Honor’s there, “Oh, people will – trust me. And that’s just in the libel courts.”
Sorcha goes, “Did you read the speech I delivered in ’98? I sent it to you. I just happened to find it on an old laptop the other day.”
Honor’s there, “It must have gone into my junk folder. Best place for it as well.”
She’s quite nasty with drink on her. Takes after her grandmother.
Sorcha goes, “I can send it to you again if you want. Or I have an MP3 of it on my phone. Ross, will you send it to her? Or better still, play it over the Bluetooth?”
Honor’s there, “Don’t bother. I’ve heard you listening to it in the bathroom when you’re psyching yourself up to talk at residents association meetings.”
Sorcha’s like, “Well, people still talk about it – to this day.”
“Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road,” Honor goes, doing – in fairness – a pretty spot-on impersonation of her old dear. “Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go.”
Sorcha’s like, “I was quoting from a song that was huge at the time, Honor.”
And Honor’s there, “Yeah – and it was so focking lame.”
Seriously, she’s a bad, bad drunk.
I can tell that Sorcha’s feelings are hurt because she goes quiet then. She literally says nothing between Foxrock Church and the bottom of Trees Road in Merrion.
There’s very little we can do except sit there smiling and hope we don’t get mentioned ourselves
— Ross
Then she goes, “At least my year as head girl meant something. As Sister Austrebertha said – and I’m paraphrasing here – there is an amazing, amazing contentment that comes from knowing you made a difference.”
Honor’s like, “Er, I made a difference?”
And that’s when Sorcha ends up losing it with her.
She goes, “You closed down the school magazine, you turned the girls in your year against each other and you made a fortune off their backs from the annual skiing trip.”
Honor goes, “Well, no one can say it was boring.”
Sorcha goes, “You’ve undermined democracy, taken the concept of civility out of politics and used what was once considered a respected office to grift for yourself. You’re actually no better than him.”
Honor’s like, “Who?”
Sorcha’s there, “You know I’ve made a vow never to say his actual name out loud.”
Honor’s like, “Trump?”
And Sorcha’s there, “Yes – him.”
I actually thought she was talking about my old man – which says a lot.
“And now,” Sorcha goes, “you’re about to use your position to settle old scores against your fellow students.”
“And teachers,” Honor goes. “One or two of them have it coming to them as well.”
Sorcha’s like, “Well, I’m not going to let you do it.”
Honor’s there, “What are you going to do about it?”
I’m like, “She’s right, Sorcha. There’s very little we can do except sit there smiling and hope we don’t get mentioned ourselves. We’re not going to get mentioned, are we, Honor?”
What happened to free speech?
— Honor
Sorcha goes, “Oh, there’s something we can do, all right,” and in that moment she suddenly pulls on the steering wheel, mounts the kerb and slams on the brake.
Honor’s like, “Oh my God, she’s totally lost it. Dad, she needs to be on something – she’s going through the change and it’s not fun for any of us.”
Sorcha says nothing in response. Instead, she kills the engine, opens her door and gets out – then she slams it closed and centrally locks the cor.
Honor’s like, “What the fock are you doing?”
But she knows. I mean, I know and I’m famously slow on the uptake.
She tries the door handle and she’s there, “Let me out of here – now!”
But Sorcha goes, “No, Honor, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Honor’s like, “I’m going to miss my graduation!”
Sorcha’s there, “Yes, Honor, that’s the intention. I love Mount Anville and everything it stands for far too much to allow you to drag its name through the mud.”
Honor’s there, “What happened to free speech?”
And Sorcha goes, “It’s only for those who use it responsibly.”
Honor turns on me then?
She’s like, “Do something, you dick!”
But I’m there, “I can’t – she’s locked it from the outside.”
She looks at Sorcha through the window and in a chilling voice goes, “I’m going to get you back for this.”
