"Here he comes, everyone, " he goes at the top of his voice, playing the innocent, of course.

"Move over, The Dagger, quoteunquote. This chap's going to be the best coach Ireland has ever had?" Anto, Snail's Pace, Bowie and one of the Garton twins stort clapping and give me, like, a standing ovation, roysh, but I don't even acknowledge it.

The old man's there, "Bit of a surprise seeing you here today, Kicker. Training's tomorrow, remember? Thursdays? Still, pull up a pew?" I'm just like, "Don't worry, I'm not staying."

He's there, "Rushing off, eh?

Well, I heard the news about you and Sorcha, deciding to part and so forth. Terribly upsetting - I understand?" I'm like, "Fock Sorcha! What about my dosh? What about my focking BMW Z4?" and he goes, "Ah! Hennessy told you I settled, I expect. He's not a happy camper with me, as you might say yourself. Well, he sees it as his job to protect me, see?" I'm not listening to this shit.

I'm there, "You made sure Jackie focking Collins was alright, didn't you? She gets the gaff. Her and that agent of hers, " which I maybe shouldn't have said, roysh, because losing your bird is bad enough, but losing her to a prick with grey hair in a pony tail has got to hurt like hell on a jetski. But then again this is my focking life he's ruined here.

"Ross, " he goes, "I had to let it go, all of it - the cars, the apartments, the boat?" I'm like, "The box in Leopardstown - are you off your focking cake?"

He laughs. He actually laughs.

Then he's there, "Your Criminal Assets chaps - they weren't expecting half of what they got when we sat down together.

They'd spend months, of course, chasing the complex paper trail that constitutes my personal finances. And all to little avail.

Guernsey, Bermuda, Luxembourg, Switzerland, Romania and Chad. They went around the world more times than a satellite and still they didn't know the half of it. They couldn't believe their luck when I gave it to them - chapter and verse, with capitals C and V?" "You told them?" I go and I try to come up with something that will really, like, hurt him and shit?

"Do you think your grandson is going to want to know you when he finds out you're a grass?"

He's there, "Ronan? Of course he will. Came to see me yesterday. Very upset about you and Sorcha."

I'm like, "Don't try to change the focking subject, dickhead.

You basically gave the CAB everything, not giving a shit how that affected me?"

He's there, "Well, once I started - oh, it was intensely liberating, Ross - I just couldn't stop. Their inventory was a single A4 sheet of paper. By the time I was done, there'd been two shift changes and they'd filled an entire pad. I told them about all sorts. My golf clubs, my good watch. . . They knew nothing about the place in Puerta Banus?" I sit down, roysh, not wanting to sound dramatic here, but just, like, overcome with basically sadness. We were gonna go there this summer, me and Sorcha, with Honor and Ro.

He just keeps banging on.

"I never would have believed how much tension is centred around our - inverted-commas - possessions. There's a chap in here, he be me and Lex's new ace dude. He doing an alphabet for armed robbery?" I'm rubbing my head, going, "Will you quit it with the focking prison talk?" He's there, "Sorry, Ross. This chap - Ken - used to be a fireman. Anyway, he told me that people who stand and watch their homes burn to the ground often break into fits of uncontrollable laughter?" I go, "That's because they've probably done it themselves, for the focking insurance. That's the kind you're mixing with in here, you know."

He's like, "You're definitely my son, Kicker, because that's what I said. No, no, he said, it's the release of stress. The relief of knowing that all you're left with is the people you love and the clothes you're standing in. I can appreciate that now?" I'm there, "You can afford to - you couldn't focking spend it in here even if you had it. What about when you get out? Have you thought about that? No more Berkeley Court. No more Shelbourne Bar. No more L'Ecrivain?" "You think I couldn't have it all again?" he goes. "You think I couldn't get it all back and more when I hit the bricks again? You underestimate your old dad. I've a good business brain, you know.

I could have it all back again if I wanted it. If I wanted it?" I'm there, "What about me?"

which, if I'm being honest, is the only thing I give an actual fock about. "I've lost everything here - we're talking cor, dosh, gaff, wife, daughter? possibly even my son. So, like, excuse me for not being a happy camper."

"Well, " he goes, "I can only take the rap for a couple of those things. But let me tell you, Ross, you'll find wonderful comfort and peace of mind when you learn to let those things go?" Let them go?

I end up going ballistic. I stand up and I'm like, "I've no focking wheels, you know. I've actually got to walk out there, take my life in my focking hands on the North Circular Road - the North Circular Road - to try to get a taxi home?" He actually doesn't care.

He's there, "I expect we'll be seeing you again tomorrow, then.

We are charmed?" "No, " I go and all of a sudden, roysh, every head in the visiting room pops up. I'm like, "No, you can stick your rugby team up your orse!"

I see Anto, Snail's Pace, the two Gartons, all exchanging looks, roysh, as if to say, what the fock's he saying? So I end up spelling it out for everyone.

I go, "I was only coming here because I actually felt sorry for this dickhead, " and I throw my thumb in the old man's direction.

"But now? he can focking rot in here for all I care."

All focking hell breaks loose then. I'd forgotten how popular the old man is in here. Lex hops up from four tables down and makes a run for me, roysh, and luckily for me, these two humungous screws are on the ball and they manage to stop him before he tears my orms out of my sockets.

But the atmosphere is turning nasty. The other prisoners stort focking things at me. A chair misses me by, like, two inches and of course then the alarm goes off and all hell breaks loose.

I give the old man one last look and I go, "This is goodbye, Knob Features, " and then I slip out of there, roysh, vowing that whatever happens I'm never going back.