Two regional Independents came galloping along the corridor from the count. Rounding the curve on the outside banisters, they sailed down the first flight.
Their stablemate had just triumphed in the opening race. Congratulations were flying. “Winner alright. Winner alright!” quipped a bystander on the ceremonial landing.
Noel Grealish and Kevin “Boxer” Moran, smiling like a pair of demented jennets, raced on. As the two men neared the bottom of the main staircase, Noel shot back “we have to win the Grand National next.”
And they were gone.
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A short time later Verona Murphy emerged from the room her erstwhile colleagues had just left as Ceann Comhairle-elect. The 21st Ceann Comhairle in the history of the State, and the first woman to hold the office.
After the result of the secret ballot was announced the significance of the occasion was not lost on the Independent TD for Wexford. “It’s a very historic and emotional day,” she said to her family and colleagues, voice cracking as she fought back the tears.
While the applause faded the panoply of State was already descending. The new Ceann Comhairle was escorted from the Seanad anteroom by an array of public servants and uniformed ushers. They rushed her past wellwishers and into a part of Leinster House away from the public gaze. Verona looked a bit shell-shocked.
[ Verona Murphy’s path to Ceann Comhairle role marked by controversyOpens in new window ]
There was a strict timetable to follow. Next stop a photocall in her sumptuous office overlooking the Kildare Street plinth, posing for her first official photographs on her first day in the job. Just photographs. No questions. There was an official on hand to police this.
So Verona, still looking shell-shocked, stood between the Irish Tricolour and the EU flag and in front of a Jack B Yeats drawing of Countess Markievicz. She smiled, but didn’t utter a word.
Another first.
The reporters shouted questions.
She’ll be available after Christmas, promised a civil servant, making Verona sound like a special offer in the new year sales.
(Not possible, she’s already been snapped up by the Taoiseach and Tánaiste in an audacious pre-coalition deal with the Regional Independents group. Simon Harris and Micheál Martin – the Two Gentlemen of Verona – primed their troops before the vote and paved the way for her election).
Then the officials whisked her out of her new office with its bare spaces on the walls where predecessor Sean Ó Fearghaill’s choice of paintings used to hang. When the 34th Dáil reconvened the Ceann Comhairle’s robe was placed on her shoulders, she ascended the chair and got down to business.
“I am humbled, honoured and privileged….”
Words spoken many, many times already inside and outside Leinster House on Wednesday when 64 new TDs arrived for their first day in the Dáil.
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There was huge excitement on the plinth as they pitched up with their babies and grannies and proud as punch mammies and daddies, phone cameras out to capture those precious moments for posterity.
Most of them would watch the proceedings in an overflow area in Leinster House 2000 as seating in the public gallery was at a premium. The new TDs had tickets for their guests, as did all the returning members, many of whom were slipping their spares to the grateful newcomers like friendly gardaí outside Croker on All-Ireland final day.
Sinn Féin’s Aengus Ó Snodaigh, one of the four contenders for the Ceann’s cloak, was not overly exercised by the contest ahead. Was he hoping to cause an upset?
“To be honest I’m totally hungover. I was at the Pogues last night. It was f***** brilliant.”
In the absence of a Ceann Comhairle, Peter Finnegan, the Clerk of the Dáil, took charge of proceedings. At the beginning of proceedings he read out a list of the election returning officers who presided over the counts around the country, but with so many new faces in the new Dáil a lot of people thought he was reading out a list of TDs.
There was a giddiness in the air. But in one corner of the Chamber, in the back row behind the rural rump, sat a forlorn looking Eoin Hayes, banished into the wilderness by the Social Democrats following his misleading comments about when he sold his shares in a controversial US company which supplies military technology to the Israel Defense Forces.
From his isolated perch he could see across to his former Soc Dem colleagues, who remain lukewarm over when, if ever, they might allow him return to the fold. He cut a lonely figure, cast adrift from former colleagues who, just weeks ago, celebrated wildly with him after his surprise victory in Dublin Bay South.
Some gave him a consoling supportive pat on the shoulder when passing his seat on their way from casting their ballots for the Ceann Comhairle. Tánaiste Micheál Martin, who has seen tough times during his own long career, also stopped and shook his hand.
And in the afternoon, while the Chamber waited to vote on Sinn Féin’s nomination of Mary Lou McDonald for taoiseach, Eoin stood outside the railing in deep conversation with Michael Lowry, the main spokesman for the government-ready Regional Independent Group.
Deputy Hayes will need to join a group for enhanced speaking rights. And Michael Lowry appeared to be giving him his number. Which was interesting.
The four contenders for the Chair had five minutes each to make their pitches. Only one of them, Verona Murphy, kept within the time. A sign of things to come. She’ll put manners on some of the worst offenders once she settles into the role.
Outgoing Ceann Comhairle Seán Ó Fearghaíl overran by three minutes. He would have ruled himself out of order had he still been in the job. He outlined the reasons he decided to run again, adding ruefully: “I’m wondering today if that was such a good idea after all.”
It was a dull enough procedure-filled morning, but the newcomers were so thrilled with themselves it didn’t matter. They scanned the gallery for familiar faces, waving up when they recognised some.
With the benches overflowing they’ll think it’s like this all the time in the Chamber.
In the 3½ hours set aside for the counting of the 174 votes (there was the small matter of lunch and then a quick Ceann Comhairle 101 crash course for the winner), the new TDs wandered the corridors with their children, drinking in the occasion.
Speaking of which, the visitors’ bar was hopping by midday. And in the self-service restaurant a strange thing occurred – there was a run on small teapots.
“Some of the new rural TDs are here with their families and a lot of the people don’t want just a mug of tea.
“They’ve been asking for teapots but we don’t use them any more. One of the chefs had to go up to the stores and find the old ones,” said a member of the catering staff, pointing to a large mound of stainless steel teapots in a corner beside the boiling water tap.
Back outside the Healy-Raes were making their usual low-key entry with Danny belting out My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean on his melodeon at the main gates and the entire Healy-Rae dynasty and supporting organisation dancing along.
The most alarming incident of the day was the attempted lifting of Sinn Féin TD Ruairí Ó Murchú’s wallet by an opportunist thief.
The Dundalk-based Deputy put his wallet and keys down on a granite ledge for a minute while having his photograph taken on the plinth. A large seagull swooped down and swiped the wallet. Ó Murchú set off in hot pursuit, roaring, and the bird dropped it.
“Thank god it was overstuffed. It was the weight that saved it,” he said afterwards. “It wasn’t stuffed with money, but all my cards and business cards are in that wallet, along with my passport and driving licence.”
Just as well he didn’t have a ham sandwich in it. “I had to do something to get noticed today,” joked Ó Murchú.
Cathal Crowe, Fianna Fáil TD for Clare, was late for the opening session, only just making it in time to vote for the Ceann Comhairle. His train from Limerick broke down. “I don’t mind so much but some of the family members of new TDs didn’t get here to hear their names called out.”
Minor hostilities resumed in the afternoon when Sinn Féin nominated Mary Lou for taoiseach, a move dismissed as grandstanding by Tánaiste Micheál Martin. It was an “empty gesture”, he said, when everybody knew there wasn’t a chance of that happening.
All speakers congratulated and welcomed Verona Murphy to be new chair. They really meant it too, even if those good intentions will go out the window in the new year.
Michael Collins of Independent Ireland called for a new department for efficiency and reform. Or DEAR, as the inevitable acronym would have it.
As for the government-formation talks, “we sincerely hope parish pump politics will not take over from policies and common sense”, said Michael (formerly a leading light of the Rural Independents) getting the biggest laugh of the day and inadvertently changing the name of his party to Independent Irony.
They’re all back again on January 22nd next year for a happy new Dáil.
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