So I’m walking around town with Ronan and – yeah, no – we’re playing a game we used to play when he was, like, eight years old: when we pass a shop or restaurant, he tells me whether it’s a real business or a money-laundering front.
He’s there, “Fruddent ... Fruddent ... Business ... Fruddent.”
And I’m like, “There? No focking way! Sorcha shops in there!”
He goes, “I doatunt know what to tell you, Rosser. It’s a fruddent.”
‘I got thrun out of Amedica,’ Ronan goes. ‘Me visa was revoked’
Zealous book bans and brilliant writers forged strong Irish Penguin links from the start
When Honor drops the news, I sit there with my mouth open like someone from Roscommon seeing escalators for the first time
The old dear made a seating plan for her own funeral. She didn’t want ugly people in the first three pews
I’m not going to argue with him. He knows this shit like I know how to analyse a rugby match. It’s no wonder Hennessy Coghlan-O’Hara was so keen for him to work for him.
I’m there, “God, it’s great to have you home, Ro.”
He’s like, “Er, yeah, it’s good to be home, Rosser – even though, you know, the circumstaddences–”
I’m there, “Yeah, I know. Your grandmother loved you – you know that, don’t you?”
He’s like, “Fidooda?” because – yeah, no – it’s pretty random to talk about her loving anything other than gin and the misery of others.
I’m there, “In her own way, Ro, I’m sure she did.”
He goes, “Business ... Business ... Fruddent.”
I’m like, “No way! Sorcha’s old pair eat in there all the time!”
He goes, “Ine not saying the food idn’t good, Rosser. Ine saying they’re not making their money serving lunches and didders – do you get me?”
Shadden says Ine arthur picking up an accident
— Ro
I’m there, “Jesus! So how are things in the States, Ro?”
Yeah, no, he’s been living there for the past two years – studying, of all things, law.
He’s like, “Ah, not bad, Rosser. Shadden says Ine arthur picking up an accident.”
“An–?”
“Accident.”
“Can you say that again, Ro?”
“An accident, Rosser. An American accident.”
“Oh, an accent!”
“That’s what I said.”
“I don’t hear it, Ro. Definitely not. And Horvard – how’s that all going?”
“Ah, it’s alreet.”
“Alright?”
“I miss howum, Rosser.”
“What, Dublin? You couldn’t. It’s a kip.”
“I miss me thaughter.”
“Rihanna-Brogan? You talk to her every day on, whatever, FaceTime, don’t you?”
“It’s not the same, Rosser. Ine missing seeing her grow up.”
“I think the whole parenting thing is overrated myself.”
I’m hearing – yeah, no – homesickness in his voice and it’s scaring me. Because the greatest thing I ever did – non-rugby-related obviously – was to deliver him out of Hennessy’s clutches.
He goes, “I was, er, thinking of mebbe cubbing howum, Rosser.”
I’m like, “Excuse me?”
“Ah, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be oaber there. And I miss me mates.”
“Who, Buckets of Blood?”
“All of them. Nudger. Gull. Larry the Lifer.”
“You’ve got a friend called Larry the Lifer. Does that not tell you something, Ro?”
“What?”
“Well, it should tell you that getting out of this country was the best thing that could have happened to you.”
“Rosser–”
“No, let me finish, Ro, because this is actually my worst focking nightmare. Whenever you come home – Christmas, summer holidays, blah, blah, blah – I actually don’t sleep properly until you’re on the plane back to the States again. Because I’m terrified that you’re going to decide to stay. That Rihanna-Brogan will turn on the waterworks at the airport–”
“That’s me thaughter you’re talking about, Rosser.”
“–or that Buckets of Blood or Stacks of Money will tell you about some job they’re doing – which can’t fail – and ask you if you want in on it. Or that Hennessy will offer you more money than you’ve ever dreamed of and he’ll corrupt you in the same way he corrupted my old man.”
“Rosser–”
“There’s nothing here for you, Ro. Trust me – the States is where you belong. The States is where you’re meant to be.”
And that’s when he says it.
He goes, “I got thrun out, Rosser.”
I’m like, “What?”
He goes, “I got thrun out.”
I’m there, “Out of Horvard?”
He goes, “Out of Amedica.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m suddenly, like, speechless?
He keeps walking.
He goes, “Business ... Business ... Fruddent.”
I’ve been toawult I’ll nebber be allowed back into Amedica again – even as a toordist
I’m there, “Stop for a second, Ro. You’re saying you got thrown out – out of the actual States?”
He’s like, “Yes, Rosser. Me visa was revoked.”
I’m there, “But there must be something we can do. Someone we can threaten. Or pay.”
“It’s not south Dublin, Rosser. These are serious people.”
“But why? What did you actually do?”
“I was involved in a protest on campus.”
He can’t even look at me when he says it.
I’m there, “You focking idiot!”
He goes, “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, Ro, but I have zero sympathy for you.”
“You doatunt want to know what the protest was about?”
“No, I don’t. It’ll have been about someone else’s, I don’t know, rights or something. And because of that you’ve screwed up your entire life.”
“It was something I feddelt veddy passionately about.”
“Yeah, a fat lot of good that is to you now. Are you absolutely sure there’s no one we can bribe.”
“Rosser, I’m out. I’ve been toawult I’ll nebber be allowed back into Amedica again – even as a toordist.”
“A what?”
“A toordist.”
All I can do is just shake my head.
I’m there, “Throwing yourself under the bus for the sake of other people’s rights. You know who’ll be disgusted with you?”
He’s like, “Who?”
I’m there, “My old man – as in, like, your grandfather.”
He goes, “No, he’s delirett, Rosser, so he is.”
I’m there, “Delighted that you’ve focked up your life?”
He goes, “He’s just happy that Ine howum. He thinks I should look on this as an opportudity.”
I’m there, “An opportunity for what?”
He goes, “To make something of meself. And he’s arthur lining me up with a job.”
I’m like, “Who are you going to be working for? Oh, no, please don’t say it. Ro, please tell me this isn’t happening.”
He goes, “Heddessy’s throwing me a bit of woork – just serving papers on people. But that’s only the steert of it, Rosser.”
I’m like, “I know it is, Ro. And that’s my literally nightmare.”
