It was a Wednesday in Government Buildings. There was a knock on the Taoiseach’s door.
It was definitely a Wednesday, because there is always roast beef on the menu on Wednesdays and the Taoiseach had specifically requested no marrowfat peas and his plate was swimming in them. To this day, as God is his judge, Enda Kenny will never forget that day and the smell of those marrowfat peas.
He was still getting over the trauma when the governor of the Central Bank knocked. Patrick Honohan put his head around the office door, looking nervous.
“Come in!” growled Enda. “This Wednesday couldn’t get any worse than it already is.”
Beads of sweat glistened on the trembling banker’s forehead.
“Taoiseach,” said Honohan. “I come to you today, Wednesday, with bad news.” The Taoiseach shot forward in his seat.
“Tell me, Paddy. Enda likes to know what the story is.”
The grizzled number-cruncher swallowed hard. He couldn’t look his Taoiseach in the eye. He focused on the desk calendar at Enda’s elbow that should have told him the day of the week. But it was out of date.
“I think you will find, Taoiseach, that it isn’t Monday. You are two days behind,” he croaked.
Enda nodded. “Yes, you’re right, Paddy. That’s Central Bank lads for ya: never miss a thing!
He explained. “No, you see, I met a woman in the street on Monday. She ran over and handed me this calendar and said: ‘Thank you Taoiseach for rescuing this great little country. I know myself and my seven footless children will climb out of the economic swamp soon thanks to your road map for recovery and five-point plan. Keep this little calendar on your desk always, and when the going gets tough look at it and think of me and the childer.”
As the Taoiseach wiped a little tear from his cheek, he realised Honohan had not come to talk about muddled dates. This was serious, and it wasn’t even Thursday yet.
“Taoiseach, I regret to tell you that you’ll have to put the Army around the banks and around the ATM machines on Friday. We may well have to print money and introduce capital controls like they had in Cyprus,” quivered the mild-mannered master of the mint.
It was at this point that Enda Kenny realised he had 48 hours to save the world. Forty-eight hours? Yes. Because it was already a Wednesday. Honohan fled.
Loud whirring noise
As soon as he was gone, the Taoiseach jumped into the broom cupboard next to his executive bathroom. There was a loud whirring noise and when he jumped out again, he was a different person. A superhero... Forty-eight hours was all he had before Europe’s economy imploded, leading to anarchy on the streets and military rule.
Enda did what he had to do, working so fast that nobody saw him or heard him as he averted not just a national disaster for Ireland, but for the whole continent of Europe.
And when he had done it he told nobody until a few years later, when there was an election on the way.
Not a lot of people know this, but Enda Kenny was the inspiration behind the TV action thriller 24. He is Jack Bauer. Now that the truth has come out about the Taoiseach's amazing exploits, Kiefer Sutherland has been put on standby to play him in the inevitable spin off.
But, some cynics sniff, 24 started on telly a decade before Enda saved Europe/Ireland/the Coalition around 2011-2012 when he came to power. The dates don't tally.
Idiots. It’s all to do with “context” and “contingency”. Something mere mortals don’t understand. The Taoiseach tried his best to explain this to Sinn Féin’s Pearse Doherty yesterday in the Dáil. He was wasting his time. Anyway, years don’t matter. Only days.
Capital controls were introduced in Cyprus in March of 2013. Fianna Fáil’s Micheál Martin thought this didn’t tally either with the years when Ireland/Europe was on the cusp of total breakdown.
But what does he know? He wasn’t there in that room on the day the governor of the Central Bank came to the Taoiseach and told him the world was about to end.
Enda was. He remembers it well.
What year was it so, demanded Doherty, over and over again?
“Context and contingency,” repeated Enda, over and over again. Furthermore, he cannot divulge details of how bad things were back then as they are, essentially, classified. It would be highly dangerous for him to do so.
He can only discuss this highly delicate subject on a top-secret, security-cleared, need-to-know basis with people who are within the intelligence community loop. This would include members of the European People’s Party at their meeting in Madrid and guests at Fine Gael’s annual dinner.
Enda explained this perfectly well yesterday: “This matter has been clarified and the matter put to bed.”
It was a Wednesday. End of story.
Doherty called Enda a spoofer.
At least we know now that he can recognise one. (Maybe he should look to his right in the chamber when Gerry Adams is back from his fundraising trip to the US.)
And where the Army was concerned, isn’t it a pity they didn’t send it in to protect the people from the banks?
