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Darren put down his toast. ‘Hunky? Is he? I thought he was an odd-looking yoke. I suppose he’s muscly from all that climbing. Still, though, could he not have done it in a pairof shorts?’

‘I’d say women donated more to see all of him.’ Sarah giggled.

‘OMG, you are so embarrassing, Mum,’ Shannon said. ‘And none of this is funny. If he does this, we’ll be the butt of everyone’s jokes.’

‘Butt!’ Darren cracked up laughing.

‘So are you saying I can do it if I wear jocks?’ Ollie asked.

‘In your dreams, son.’ Darren spread jam on his toast.

Ollie slammed his spoon ontothe table. ‘I don’t have any more dreams, Dad. You’ve crushed them all.’

‘Maybe if you had normal dreams, like being a doctor or afireman, Dad would support you, but rowing down a river in a bathtub with your willy hanging out is not NORMAL!’ Shannon roared.

Sarah reached over and patted his arm. ‘Ollie, there are lots of things you can do that don’t involve rowing a bathtub down the Liffeyin the middle of winter. We love you and we don’t want you to die of cold. Maybe we could try talking to Vinny and see if we can get you back into the Scouts.’

Ollie snorted. ‘The Scouts are a bunch of muppets who go camping two miles up the road, sit around a rubbish little fire toasting marshmallows and telling crap ghost stories.’

‘Sounds all right to me,’ Darren said. ‘Better than freezingyour bollocks off in a feckin’ bathtub.’

‘You just don’t get it, Dad. I want adventure.’

Darren sighed. ‘I know you do, son, but breaking bones and collecting scars isn’t the way to go about it.’

‘I can’t wait to be eighteen, get out of Ireland and join the SAS.’

Darren spluttered over his tea. ‘You can’t just stroll over to England and join the SAS, Ollie.’

‘Yes, you can. I looked it up.You start by joining one of the SAS reserve regiments, they recruit normal civilians, and you serve with them for eighteen months and then if you’re good enough, which I would be if I was allowed to actually do stuff, you can get into the real SAS.’

‘Great. Only eight more years to wait. Can they not take you sooner?’ Shannon asked.

Sarah felt her heart tighten. Ollie was impulsive enough todo something like that. ‘Ollie, there is no way you’re joining the army and going to any war. I just can’t let you, love. Rowing down the river in your birthday suit is one thing, guns and war is another.’

‘But, Mum, the SAS kill the bad guys. They’re heroes.’

‘The ones that don’t get killed are. What about the ones who die or come home with no legs?’

‘No legs? Well, at least that’d stop younicking my stuff and embarrassing me in public,’ Shannon put in. ‘Every cloud.’

‘Shannon!’ Sarah snapped.

Ollie rubbed his nose. ‘Why would it stop me doing anything? Sure you can get false legs. Look at your man, Oscar Whatshisname?’

‘Pistorius?’ Darren said.

‘Yeah, him, he runs like the wind on those fake legs.’

‘Let me get this straight. You want to join the SAS to kill bad guys, and ifyou get your legs blown off, you’ll be happy enough with the false ones?’ Darren asked.

‘Well, not happy, like I won’t be having a party to celebrate losing my legs, but I’ll be grand.’

Sarah slapped the table. ‘Can we please stop talking about lost limbs? Now, you two, off upstairs. I need to talk to your father in private.’

Sarah closed the kitchen door and locked it.

‘Jesus, what’s goingon? You haven’t locked the kitchen door since you told me you were pregnant with Ollie. You’re not pregnant, are you?’