Welcome to Ballywood chapter 11: "Feck the patriarchy"

Is Ais ready to take down a Hollywood movie director?

The Hollywood versus BGB hurling match went off without a hitch. Well, Titch Maguire got a concussion when he was knocked out by one of Eoin Mac Piaras’s massive thighs, but he’s no stranger to a head injury. John wasn’t joking when he says Eoin never skips leg day. The final score was six goals and twelve points to BGB with Hollywood taking home a measly three points, all scored by Eoin who was pictured on various gossip sites crying into a banana Mooju on the sideline at half time. Who knew Aubrey could have such an effect on a man?

I didn’t get a wink of sleep thinking about the audio I had recorded of AJ Brandin and Emilia Coburn. I replayed and replayed it and there was no other explanation than he was trying to coerce her into some kind of sex act to secure a part in Three Men and a Little Lady (2027). I was as livid as everyone when details of all the #MeToo stuff started coming out a few years ago but I never in a million years thought I’d be privy to a MeToo scandal of my own. I considered telling Mandy Blumenthal but she was in LA on day three of a hangover from the Vanity Fair Oscar party. I didn’t even tell John! I just paced around the cottage in my nightie eating Hob Nobs and worrying and leaving a trail of crumbs that would probably get us mice. Aubrey woke up at 4am and found me up. She was also up worrying about hurting Eoin’s feelings and her continuing love for Jeremy. I made her a cup of milky tea and coaxed her back to bed with a soothing podcast of Harry Styles reading a Famous Five book. 

 If the audio of Emilia and AJ got out, that would be the end of AJ Brandin’s career. And rightly so! But I knew enough about bad PR that it would mean the film he’d just shot would never see the light of day, or at least be a massive bomb. No big break for Baby Aisling, no movie career for Don Shields, no finally putting Ballygobbard on the map. The cast and crew would still get paid, which was good, but if the film was canned then all that work was for nothing. 

But Brandin deserved to be outed. What he was doing to Emilia was heinous, and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the other women who’d probably suffered at his hands, and the hands of men just like him. Hollywood was overrun with sleaze balls and they deserved to get their comeuppance. If I kept quiet I was just protecting him. And I have a Feck the Patriarchy sticker on my laptop! 

Photo by Mihai Surdu on Unsplash

I was still awake when my phone lit up the bedroom at just past 5am. A text from Majella. “Your goddaughter officially has an agent” and the money flying away emoji. She’d spoken to the talent agency already? Kris Jenner works hard, but no momager works harder than Majella Moran when there’s fame and fortune for her daughter at stake. I turned the phone over. Robbing Maj of her chance of bringing Baby Ais to the IFTAs or, even the Oscars, was unbearable. John stirred beside me in the bed. I turned over and curled myself around him. I used to hate being the big spoon but it wasn’t so bad sometimes. I watched as his broad back rose up and down with each breath. He was so peaceful. I felt like I’d never sleep again. 

The next morning, I asked Aubrey to bring me a coffee when we got to the Portacabin.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer tea?” She was looking at me suspiciously. 

“I actually think I need cocaine,” I sighed.

“Aisling! What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just tired. I want to try and talk to Emilia before she leaves.” I was hoping that if I asked her about what Brandin said she might have an explanation. Maybe I got the wrong end of the stick. Or maybe they were running lines for an upcoming episode of Law & Order. I knew I was clutching at straws but I was getting desperate.

Aubrey looked surprised. “Didn’t you get the updated call sheet? I emailed it last night.”

I hadn’t checked my email. I was too busy panicking. “What did I miss?”

“Emilia’s wrapped. They shot her final scene yesterday. She left last night on the studio jet.”

And who could blame her? I wouldn’t want to stay within five hundred miles of that abusive prick either. Aubrey saw the look on my face and wheeled her office chair right up to mine so we were knee to knee. 

“Aisling. I know you pride yourself on not being a slave to the cult of coffee.”

She’s right. The stuff is like kryptonite to me. And I can’t keep having conversations about the quality of espresso with literally everyone. Pat Curran the postman started up with it the other day, saying there was a new converted horsebox in Knock owned by two brothers roasting their own beans. He said Sylvia DeRossa is writing a big piece for the County Chronicle about how there’s a shortage of horseboxes and sheep trailers across the country because they’re all being bought up to be turned into coffee spots. I can see Aubrey is about to launch into a deep dive on why I’m so stressed out but she gets distracted by a push notification on her phone.

“Oh my God, not another one. It feels like there’s one of these every day!”

She turns her phone screen towards me. The Irish Times headline reads “Man in his fifties arrested after woman (37) found unresponsive in Dublin apartment.” 

“Doesn’t it feel like there’s one of these every day?” Aubrey repeats and I nod. It’s so depressing. It feels like there’s nowhere left for women to be safe. Suddenly there’s a knock on the Portacabin door. 

“Oh God, what if it’s Eoin?” Aubrey whispers. “He really won’t take no for an answer.” 

I stand up and stride to the door, ready to give Eoin Mac Piaras a piece of my mind about no meaning no but when I open it it’s a much taller man. A man in a Guinness jumper that could only have been bought in Temple Bar. A man wearing a flat cap. 

“Jeremy!” Aubrey gasps. “What are you doing here?” 

I try to make myself small while Aubrey leaps on Jeremy and covers him in kisses. He can’t believe the reception he’s getting. I clear my throat when it seems like it might be about to get a bit x-rated and they pull themselves together. It turns out Jeremy flew in last night but couldn’t figure out a way to get to BGB so late so he made friends with a stag party in The Foggy Dew and spent three hundred euro on pints. He’s so hungover he contemplated dying in a ditch but had to make it to Aubrey to profess his undying love. Luckily, it’s reciprocated. Jeremy delves once again into an elaborate explanation about how sorry he is about kissing that girl when he was on magic mushrooms at Burning Man when they were seniors in high school. Again, Jeremy does not strike me as someone who would be at Burning Man, let alone taking magic mushrooms. But people do contain multitudes.

“He’s a good man,” Aubrey gushes, hugging Jeremy again and again. “He’s one of the good ones, isn’t he, Ais?”

I nod. He is one of the good ones. Unfortunately, I know too much about some of the bad ones. I pick up my phone, scroll through my contacts and hit the call button. 

“Hello, Sylvia? This is Aisling, from the Three Men and a Ba-, oh yes, also from the photograph in the Scouts Den of the 1997 nativity play. They did say I made a very realistic donkey. Anyway Sylvia, forget about donkeys. Forget about horseboxes. I have the story of the century for you.” 

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Coming next week: The Three Man and a Baby (2025) wrap party takes an explosive turn in the series finale of Welcome to Ballywood