I won’t put up with it anymore. Teenagers have rights now, you know.
They do, Ma. It’s true. Sure, Macaulay Culkin might be divorcing his parents.
Do you hear this? This’ll be someone she met at that stupid summer scheme you insisted we send her on. Her bloody “Friends Across the Barricades” thing. I have nothing against Protestants, I’m all for integration, I am, but if they’re letting their weans divorce them…
Macaulay Culkin isn’t a Protestant, Ma.
It’s only gonna give our weans ideas.
Well, he might be. I didn’t meet him at Friends Across the Barricades.
I don’t care where you met him. You’re not to see him again. Understood?
Them weans shouldn’t have to take the bus to school. You should be driving them, you useless shite.
Work? (chuckles) Is that what you call it?
Why don’t you just leave my Mary alone?
Because we’ve been married for 17 years, Joe. We have two children. And because we’re in love with each other.
I’ll find some dirt on you yet, boy. I’ve got people working on it.
Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not enjoying this bomb.
Disgusting and disgraceful. I have an appointment in Tropicana at 12:00. Fifteen minutes in the stand up. But sure I’ll not get over the bridge at this rate. It’s going to play havoc with my build-up. This is what they want. They want ordinary people to suffer. This is what it’s all about.
I’m pretty sure interfering with your sunbed sessions isn’t very high up on anyone’s political agenda, Aunt Sarah.
Me. Well, come on, then, ball-ache. Are you introducing yourself, or what?
Hi. I’m Michelle’s cousin, James.
Why’s he making that funny noise?
He’s English, Orla. That’s the way they talk. He’s my Auntie Kathy’s wean. I told you about my Auntie Kathy. She went to England years ago to have an abortion. Never came back. Never got the abortion, either. Lucky for you, James, eh? Ha!
I didn’t actually know that.
I don’t know. But do you think if I told him I had an incendiary device down my knickers, he’d have a look?
Michelle, he’s a soldier.
Ach, some of them are rides. I’m willing to admit it, even if nobody else will, because I’m a beacon of truth, Erin.
You’re a mouth, that’s what you are.
No. I have no interest in David Donnelly’s spazzmo band. (eating Quavers)
Sure, how could I go? I’m so weak I can barely walk.
Orla’s mental. Come on, Michelle. I’m begging you. It’s my big chance with David. I’d do it for you.
Fine! But we both know you’re gonna just sit in the corner like a frigid fuck.
You’ve never even kissed a boy before. You practice on your pillow sometimes, but you don’t think that’s the same.
The reading of the diary was bad enough. I could do without the quoting it from memory.
Michelle, would you mind showing me where the toilet is?
You are really starting to do my head in, do you know that?
WWoman
Will the following pupils please report to Sister Michael’s office immediately? Erin Quinn, Orla McCool, Clare Devlin, Michelle Mallon, and the wee English fella. Thank you.
I wonder what that could be about.
Obviously, Sister Declan’s death was extremely shocking and unexpected. We’re still struggling to understand exactly what happened.
Yeah? Can I just ask, what age was Sister Declan?
She’d have been 98 on Friday.
Right. Might that shed some light on the situation?
Does anybody else have any thoughts on the whole “her being almost 98 years of age” thing?
Struck down in her prime.
On Monday morning, several of our Year 13s will face their GCSE maths resit. Now, I know how daunting resit examinations can be, so if anyone is feeling anxious or worried, or even if you just want to chat, please, please, do not come crying to me.
Okay, that is one portion of redfish, one portion of whitefish, two bags of chips –
No, no, no! Two bags won’t be enough.
Four! Four should cover it.
Three, then. We’ll compromise.
I’ll compromise you through that window.
The tight bastard’s trying to starve us all, Mary!
There was a knock at the door, this must have been, ach, we’re talking eight, half eight, for I was halfway through me dinner. And up I got to open it, and there they both were, large as life. And the taller fella, though, to be fair, there was no more than an inch in it.
The slightly taller fella, he says to me, says he, “Do you know who we are?”
How’s a body supposed to enjoy his dinner?
And I says to him, says I, “Well, I can’t be sure now, but maybe if you took off the balaclavas.” And then he says to me, the slightly taller fella does, he says, “Step aside. We are armed.”
And that’s when the smaller fella, although, as I say, we are talking an inch…
…an inch and a half at most.
He has the bright idea of tying me to the radiator, you see. And I remember saying to myself, says I, “Colm, it’s a good job you have the Economy 7 on the old timer, or you’d be roasted here.”
Did you go for the Economy 7 in the end, Colm? I thought you said the hot water settings were a minefield?
For the love of God, Sarah, no diversions, please.
Aye, come on, let’s pick it up. They tied you to the heater.
They did indeed. And there I am, shackled to the thermostatic valve with me new shoelaces, when one of them, the smaller fella, or, hang on, maybe it was the--
Well, it was one of the two. He’s looking for the keys to the van, all ranting and raving and getting himself all worked up, threatening to set fire to my good chaise lounge and all sorts. By Jesus, they were absolutely desperate to borrow thon van.
Colm, they didn’t borrow your van. They stole your van, used it to move arms across the border, and then they blew it up.
Aye. Nightmare altogether.
