'Ronan is an absolute joy to have here at the school'

I know McGahy hates rugby, but this has gone too far – and what’s with all the air-kissing?

‘I SHALL be with you presently.” Why do teachers love saying that line? It’s one of life’s great unanswered questions – like how are inner-city Dublin kids so good at ice-skating and where do people from Kilkenny keep getting those Lois jeans?

You should see the way Tina's dressed, by the way. She's a disaster area. A real Ground Zero. She's wearing her hospital skirt – oh, she's working as a nurse now in, like, Beaumont or one of those – Ugg boots – and we're not even talkingreal ones? – and big hoopy earrings that wouldn't look out of place with a Chinese gymnast handstanding on them while planning his aerial dismount.

I try not to say anything, but in the end it's like I haveto? "Fock's sake, Tina," I go, out of the corner of my mouth, "it's parent-teacher day. You could have made an actual effort." Except she doesn't even look at me, just goes, "Ine just after comin off a torteen-hour shift. You steert on me, Ross, and God help me, I'll boorst ya . . ." and I'm there, "Errr, okay," genuinely terrified and, at the same time, thinking, Ronan didn't exactly lick it up off the linoleum, did he?

I have to admit that I’m full of, I suppose, trepidation at seeing McGahy again. You could say we’ve had history ever since he taught me geography. Or tried to. I made his life a living hell and he could never do anything about it because he knew I’d just play the rugby cord. Not surprisingly, he ended up hating the game – while Leinster were winning the Heineken Cup last year, he was supposedly seen walking his Dachshund on Anglesea Road, just to make a point – and his first act on becoming principal of Castlerock College was to pull the school out of the Leinster Schools Senior Cup. I was one of 400 past pupils to resign from the Castlerock Old Boys Network in protest, while my old man withdrew the 200,000 yoyos he’d pledged towards the cost of the new science and humanities block, work on which has now been suspended.

Anyway, roysh, that's all basically background? He sticks his head around the door and says he'll see us now and we follow him into what I'll probably always consider to be Father Fehily's office. In fact, the first thing I look for when I step in there is the old gramophone on which he used to play his 45s of that goy Hitler's speeches. It's gone – like his old secretary, Crystal Noctor, and so much else.

I’m still wondering, of course, how I’m going to play this thing – in the end, I decide on casual bordering on cocky. “I see you’re still driving that Nissan Sunny,” I go, then I pretend to sneeze, roysh, expect I go, “Piece of crap!”

And this is where the story storts to get weird. Bear in mind, roysh, that I’ve never seen McGahy get excited about anything in his life – except the time he showed us his slide collection of stalactites and stalac, I don’t know, stockings – but the second he sees Tina, roysh, he’s all over her like a focking oil spill.

"Tina!" he goes and she's all, "Howiya, Mister Moogahee!" not even toning down her accent to make herself understood on this side of the city.

“Tom,” he just goes. “Call me Tom,” and – get this – they airkiss – we’re talking both cheeks as well. Now you can imagine me. I’m standing there watching this scene like a trout taking a fly. But pretty soon, everything becomes clear. She thanks him for the flowers and he thanks her – “on behalf of the entire family” – for looking after his old dear so well when she was in hospital. It turns out she had, like, a fall? Tina asks him how she is now and he says, aport from her leg ulcers, she’s fine. Then he goes, “Please – sit down.”

Bear in mind, at this stage, roysh, he hasn't even acknowledged me? "Now," he goes, taking his own seat, "let's talk about Ronan . . ." and any parents reading this will know exactly what goes through my head at that point.

What ismy kid like in school? Given his brand of evil genius, I'm prepared to hear that he's discovered a hitherto unknown element for the periodic table or that they've found a Glock and a hundred kilos of Glad-Wrapped heroin in his locker.

"I have to tell you," McGahy goes, "that Ronan is an absolute joy to have here at the school. His grades are consistently outstanding. He's punctual, sociable andresponsible, endlessly funny – as you no doubt already know – and he looks out for his fellow students. He has real leadership qualities. He really is a wonderful young man . . ." Tina's just about to say something but I end up getting in there first. "That all sounds reasonably satisfactory," I go. "I suppose one of our concerns – asparents – would be the lack of rugby-playing opportunities for him here. We havehad approaches from the likes of Blackrock, Belvedere and – D'Arcy'd never let me hear the end of this – Clongowes, with a view to switching him for his Junior Cup year . . ." It's amazing, roysh, because I might as well not be talking at all. Tina just stands up and says that's great – well, dat's great – and suddenly we're out of there, no even negotiation.

"Tina," McGahy goes as we're leaving the office, "could I have maybe a quick word in private?" and I tell them not to mind me, roysh, because I want to take a quick detour down the Walk of Legends. I'm talking about the corridor that leads down to the assembly hall, where they have the photos of all the great Castlerock College teams of the past lining the walls. We'reup there, the famous Dream Team of 1999 – as is my old man, even though theylost in the first round to, like, Conleths or Gonzaga or one of those.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I take the corner into the Walk of Legends – the old hort pumping like Ibiza – and literally nothing could have prepared me for the sight that awaits me. The pictures have all been taken down and the walls have just been, like, whitewashed? I actually stop dead in my tracks, like some focking madman, suddenly just staring at the bare brickwork, going, "Used to be . . . used to be. . . all pictures." I eventually hear footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder and it's, like, Tina. "Look what he's done," I go. "This is all to get at me," and then I end up seriously losing it with her. I'm there, " You'rea disgrace, by the way." She's like, "What?"

"The two of you – getting on like pancakes and bacon." She smiles. You know thatsmile? "He asked me out to dinner," she goes. I'm like, "Whoa, whoa, whoa – tellme you said no."

She laughs in my face and goes, “I actually told him yes.”

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