Honor walks through the arrivals gate with a face as long as a wet weekend in Knock and I take it as read that the week in St Moritz was a bit of a let-down?
She hands me her Louis Vuitton suitcase and her ski boots and I make the mistake of going, “So how was it?”
The girl totally blanks me.
I’m there, “Honor? Did you hear me? How did the skiing trip go?”
‘You wouldn’t last one day as a girl,’ Honor tells me
‘You’re both loved and feared, Honor – and I’m so proud’
Ross O’Carroll-Kelly: ‘Why do you want to go disinterring the past, Ross?’
Sorcha is standing at the island with a boning knife in one hand and an espresso in the other, grinning at us like a serial killer
And that’s when she totally loses her S-H-one-T with me.
She’s like, “Oh my God, are you really so needy that you expect me to respond to every focking question you ask me?”
God, I’ve missed her.
I’m there, “I’m guessing that it didn’t go well then.”
She’s like, “It was absolutely shit. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Courage Kennedy and Rioghnach Morkey – two girls from her class – come through the gate and make a beeline for her.
Courage is like, “Thank you so much for arranging the trip, Honor. It was the best week – like, ever?”
And Honor – in a sweet voice – goes, “Oh, I’m so glad you enjoyed it!” because, like most teenage girls, she’s capable of being in two completely contradictory moods at the exact same time.
Courage and Rioghnach hug her goodbye and we stort making our way to the short-term cor pork. I’m like, “They seem to have enjoyed themselves.”
Honor goes, “They’re being bitches, Dad.”
“What?”
“When they say it was the best week ever, they mean it was the worst week ever?”
“I didn’t pick up on that.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t last one day as a girl.”
Yeah, no, Thia Hall – who’s sort of her nemesis – brought 20 girls on, like, a rival skiing trip? It sounds like someone has a serious case of FOMO
We reach the cor. I’m throwing Honor’s luggage into the boot when a girl getting into her old dear’s Hyundai Ioniq goes, “Bye, Honor!”
I’m there, “Who’s that?”
She’s like, “That’s Lucy Meagan.”
“I had an amazing, amazing time,” Lucy goes.
Honor’s like, “I’m delighted, Lucy. I’m absolutely thrilled.”
Then when she gets into the cor, she goes, “Can you focking believe what she just said to me?”
I’m there, “Again, Honor, it sounded to me like she had a genuinely good time.”
And Honor goes, “Yeah, you understand subtlety like an elephant understands rollerblades. Just focking drive, will you?”
Which is what I end up doing. We’re just passing the exit for Blanchardstown when I dare to speak again.
I’m there, “Your old dear is looking forward to seeing you.”
She’s like, “She actually said that?”
And I end up having to go, “Er, no, it was more a figure of speech than anything.”
After a few more minutes of silence, I’m like, “Okay, so what happened, Honor? Why was the trip so shit?”
She goes, “Er, because Thia Hall went to, like, Gstaad?”
Yeah, no, Thia Hall – who’s sort of her nemesis – brought 20 girls on, like, a rival skiing trip? It sounds like someone has a serious case of FOMO.
I’m there, “And, what, you’re worrying that they had a better time than you?”
She goes, “It’s all anyone could think about while we were on the slopes. They had, like, boys on their trip. Michael’s boys.”
After another minute or so of silence, I’m there, “Okay, I’m going to say something totally random now, Honor, but what does it matter whether they had a good time or not as long as you enjoyed yourselves?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that she’s giving me a serious filthy.
She’s like, “Are you actually serious?”
I’m there, “Er – yeah?”
She goes, “What does Granddad always say? ‘It’s not enough that I should win – everyone else must lose.’”
Yeah, no, the Latin version of it was on the Castlerock College school crest until the early 1990s.
I’m there, “You don’t want to listen to my old man, Honor. He’s done actual jail time, bear in mind?”
We’re, like, passing the exit for Tallaght when she goes, “I’m sorry I was an asshole to you earlier”
That’s when her phone suddenly beeps. She reads her text message, then goes, “Oh! My God!”
I’m like, “What?”
“It’s a message from Jessy Whelehan!” she goes. “She was on the Gstaad trip!”
I’m there, “And did she have a good time?”
And she’s like, “There was an avalanche!” and she says it like it’s a good thing.
I’m there, “Er, I hope no one was hurt – were they?”
She goes, “I’ve no idea. Let me read the rest of it. No, it happened the day before they arrived. But the hotel where they were staying in was forced to close. And after spending a night at the airport, they flew back to Dublin the next day.”
I’m like, “Good enough for them,” because I notice that she’s brightening up and it’s definitely nice to see.
Her phone beeps again.
“Oh my God,” she goes.
I’m there, “More good news?”
She’s like, “As they were boarding the plane, Thia slipped on ice and broke her ankle!”
“Jesus.”
“She had to be evacuated by helicopter to a hospital in, like, Geneva?”
“Serves her right, Honor – horsh and all as that sounds.”
“She had to have metal pins inserted into her leg. They’re saying she might never ski again.”
“Fock.”
“And she thought she was amazing at it as well. She used to go to Kilternan, like, every weekend.”
“No more Kilternan for her.”
“They’re setting up a Go Fund Me page for her.”
“Jesus.”
“And then – oh my God, this is hill! air! – pretty much everyone on the flight home ended up contracting the winter vomiting bug?”
“So it’s one piece of good news after another.”
“They’ve all spent the last week bent over the toilet!”
“It sounds like their trip was totally jinxed from, like, stort to finish.”
“And – oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! – they’re all blaming Thia!”
She sits back in her seat with a humungous smile on her face. We’re, like, passing the exit for Tallaght when she goes, “I’m sorry I was an asshole to you earlier.”
I’m there, “Were you? I honestly didn’t notice.”
And then she’s like, “In answer to your question, we had an amazing, amazing time. It was, like, the holiday of a lifetime?”
Like she said, I wouldn’t last a day as a girl. Not one day.
