Minding Frankie (36 page)

They looked at him sharply, but he didn’t mean anything sinister.

“It’s too early to settle down,” Simon said carelessly.

“Who said anything about settling down?” Maud asked.

There was a knock on the door. It was a young man with black curly hair who came in carrying a huge saucepan of something bubbling in a tomato sauce.

“This is for the grandfather of lovely Maud,” he said.

“Well, thank you, Marco,” Muttie said, pleased. “Lizzie, come in and see what’s arrived.”

Lizzie came running in from the kitchen.

“Marco! Imagine, I was just about to get the supper.”

“So that was good timing, then?” Marco beamed around the little group.

“Well, I have to go.” Noel stood up. “I’m Noel, by the way. I’d love to join you, but I have to pick up my daughter.
Buon appetito.
”

Noel wished he could stay. It was heartening to see such happiness in a house that was about to go through so much sadness soon.

In Chestnut Court Lisa woke with a stiff neck. She saw Noel’s coat hanging on the back of the door. He must have come in and left again. She should have made him some kind of supper or gone to pick Frankie up from Molly Carroll’s. Too late now. He had scrawled a note saying he would come back with a fish supper. He was so kind. Wouldn’t it have been so easy if only she could have loved Noel rather than Anton. But then life didn’t work like that and maybe there would be even more obstacles in the way. She got up, stretched and set the table.

She would really love a glass of wine with the cod and French fries, but that was something that would never be brought into this house. She thought back to the lovely wine they had drunk in Scotland. She had paid for the meals on alternate nights, but she had maxed out on her credit cards and was seriously broke now. But Anton never realized that. She hoped things would change soon; she would have to get a job if Anton didn’t make a commitment.

Noel would be home shortly and she mustn’t be full of gloomy thoughts.

At 23 St. Jarlath’s Crescent, Josie and Charles Lynch sat in stunned silence. They had just closed the door behind a very serious lawyer in a striped suit. He had come to tell them just how much they had inherited from the late Meriel Monty. When all the assets were liquidated, the estate would come, the lawyer said very slowly, to a total of approximately 289,000 euros.

It was good that Eddie Kennedy didn’t recognize her, Moira thought. This way she could continue to be professional.

The hostel where he was living was only a short-stay place; soon he would need something long-term. If things had been different, she might have inquired more about the setup in Liscuan, wondered whether he might even at this late stage be able to patch things up with his wife. After all, he didn’t drink now. But the very thought of destroying the great content that her father had finally found late in a troubled life was one she could not bear to let into her mind.

Wherever Eddie Kennedy was to find his salvation, it must not be in Liscuan.

Moira sighed deeply and tried to remember what she would have done for this man if things had been different, if she hadn’t known for certain that his long-abandoned wife was living with her own father. Wearily she continued with fruitless questions about any possible benefits that might be due to him after a lifetime of working in England. This man had never signed on anywhere or joined any system. It would be a progression of hostels from now on.

It would have been the same if he had come across any other social worker, wouldn’t it? Maybe one of them would have made inquiries back in Liscuan. And if inquiries
had
been made? Perhaps Mrs. Kennedy and her father would have sung low, in which case there would have been nothing different to the way it was now.…

Yet Moira felt guilty. This man shouldn’t have his options restricted just because his social worker wanted her own father to continue undisturbed in what should have been this man’s home. Moira wished, not for the first time, that she had a friend, a soul mate whom she could discuss it with.

She remembered that meal with Lisa in Ennio’s: it had been pleasant and it was surprisingly easy to talk to Lisa. But of course the girl would think she was quite insane if she were to suggest it.

Worse—both insane and pathetic.

Muttie told Lizzie that something was worrying him.

“Tell me, Muttie.”

Lizzie had listened to Muttie for years. Listened to stories of horses that were going to win, backs that ached, beer that had been watered and, more recently, of some poor unfortunates he had met up with at the hospital. Muttie had discovered there was a desperate lot of illness about—you just didn’t come across it when you were in the whole of your health.

She wondered what she would hear now.

“I’m worried that the twins are putting off their trip to America because of my having to have those treatments.” He said it defiantly, as if waiting, hoping, for her to deny it.

If that was what he wanted, then that was what he got. Lizzie’s face split in two with a great laugh.

“Well, if that’s all that’s bothering you, Muttie Scarlet, aren’t you a lucky man? Have you eyes in your head at all? They didn’t want to go because Maud is crazy about Mario. The
last
thing she wants to do is to go away and let some Dublin dolly get her claws into Mario. It has nothing to do with you whatsoever!”

He was vastly relieved. “I suppose I was making myself the big man,” he said.

·   ·   ·

Noel Lynch and Lisa Kelly were shopping for fruit and vegetables in a market where Emily had pointed them. Moira had complained that they did very little home cooking and Frankie’s diet might be lacking in all kinds of nutrients.

“She always moves the bloody goalposts,” Lisa said in fury.

“Why are home purees better than the ones we buy?” Noel said crossly. “What
are
all these additives she talks about? And why do the makers put them in?”

“I bet they don’t. It’s just Moira making life more difficult. Right, show me the list Emily made. Apples, bananas. No honey—that can poison her. Vegetables, but no broccoli. We have stock, and it’s low-salt and organic—I checked.”

“Have we?” Noel was surprised. “What does it look like?”

“Like a sort of toffee wrapped up. We have it, Noel. Come on, let’s pay for this lot and we’ll go home and puree it and while it’s cooking we’ll go over the notes for that lecture we both missed. Thank God for Faith!”

“Yes, indeed.”

Lisa looked at him sharply. It was obvious to everyone except Noel that Faith fancied him. Lisa didn’t feel at all drawn to Noel except as a housemate and friend, but she didn’t want the situation complicated.

In some strange, odd way Anton felt slightly more on his toes because Lisa lived with a man. It was more racy somehow. Once or twice Anton had asked if there was any frisson between the two of them. That was a very Anton type of word and he asked it casually, as if he didn’t care very much anyway.

But that was his way. He wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t cared.

Lisa was comfortable in Chestnut Court. Noel made sure she went to her lectures when she wasn’t running off with Anton at a moment’s notice. And even though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she had become amazingly fond of that little girl. Life without Frankie was going to be hard when it happened. As soon as Anton realized that commitment did not mean a life sentence, it meant the opening of doors.

·   ·   ·

Emily Lynch was also in the vegetable market; she had promised Dr. Hat she would teach him how to make a vegetarian curry for his friend Michael, who was coming to visit.

“Could you not just … er … make it for me?” Dr. Hat begged.

“No way! I want you to be able to tell Michael how you made it.” She was very firm.

“Emily,
please
. Cooking is women’s business.”

“Then why are the great chefs mainly male?” she asked mildly.

“Show-offs,” said Dr. Hat mutinously. “It won’t work, Emily. I’ll burn everything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—we’ll have a great time chopping everything up; you’ll be making this recipe every week.”

“I doubt it,” said Dr. Hat. “I seriously doubt it.”

The whole encounter with Eddie Kennedy had made Moira restless. Her own small apartment felt like a prison, with the walls enclosing her more and more. Perhaps she was a kindred soul to him and would end up beached, with no friends, being looked after by some social worker who was still at school now.

It was her birthday on Friday. It was a sad person who had nobody to celebrate with. Nobody at all. Yet again her thoughts went back to that pleasant evening at Ennio’s restaurant. She had felt normal for once.

What would Lisa say if Moira asked her to have a meal with her—except that she wasn’t free? Nothing would be lost. She would go around to Chestnut Court now.

“God Almighty, it’s Moira
again
!” Lisa said when she had put down the entry phone and buzzed her in.

“What can she want now?” Noel looked around the flat nervously in case there was something that could be discovered, something that would be a black mark against them. Frankie’s clothes
were drying on the radiators—but that was good, wasn’t it? They were making sure that the little garments were properly aired.

He continued spooning the puree into Frankie, who enjoyed it mainly as a face-painting activity and something to rub into her hair.

Moira arrived in a gray pantsuit and sensible shoes. She looked businesslike, but then she was always businesslike.

Noel saw her properly for the first time. There was a sort of shield around her, as if it were keeping people away. She had good, clear skin. Her hair was curly in a color that suited her. It was just that it didn’t add up to much.

“Will you have a cup of tea?” he asked her wearily.

Moira had taken in the domestic scene at a glance: the child was being well cared for. Anyone could see that. They had even listened to her about getting fresh vegetables and making purees.

She saw the books and note files out for their studies. These were her so-called hopeless clients, a family at risk, not fit to be minding Frankie, and yet they seemed to have got their act together much better than Moira had.

“I had a tiring day today,” she said unexpectedly.

If the roof had blown off the apartment block, Noel and Lisa could not have been more surprised. Even Frankie looked up, startled, with her food-stained face.

Moira never complained about her workload. She was tireless in her efforts to impose some kind of order on a mad world. This was the very first time she had even given a hint that she might be human.

“What kind of things were most tiring?” Lisa asked politely.

“Frustration, mainly. I know this couple who are desperate for a baby. They would provide a great home, but can they get one? Oh, no, they can’t. People can ignore babies, harm them, take drugs all round them, and that’s perfectly fine as long as they are kept with the natural parent. We are meant to be proud of this because we have kept the family unit intact.…”

Noel found himself involuntarily holding Frankie closer to him.

“Not you, Noel,” Moira said wearily. “You and Lisa are doing your best.”

This was astounding praise. Lisa and Noel looked at each other in shock.

“I mean it’s a hopeless situation, but at least you’re keeping to the rules,” Moira admitted grudgingly.

Noel and Lisa smiled at each other in relief.

“But the rest of it’s exhausting and I ask myself, Is it getting anyone anywhere?”

Lisa wondered whether Moira might be having a nervous breakdown.

“It must be very stressful, your job. I suppose you have to try to compensate for it in your private life,” Lisa babbled, in an attempt to restore normality.

“Yes, indeed, if all I had to think about was Hall’s, I’d be locked up by now,” Noel agreed. “If I didn’t have Frankie to come home to, I’d be a right mess.”

“I’m the same.” Lisa thought of Anton’s. “Honestly, the comings and goings, the highs and lows, the dramas. I’m glad I have another life outside it all.”

Moira listened to all this without much sign of agreement or pleasure. Then she delivered the final shock.

“It was actually about my social life that I called,” Moira said. “I’m going to be thirty-five on Friday and I was hoping, Lisa, you might join me for supper at Ennio’s.…”

“Me? Friday? Oh, heavens. Well, thank you, Moira, thank you indeed. I’m free on Friday, aren’t I, Noel?”

Was she looking at him beseechingly, begging him to find some kind of excuse? Or was she eager to go? Noel couldn’t work it out. Honesty seemed safest.

“Friday is my day on—you’re free Friday evening,” he said.

Lisa’s face showed nothing. “Well, that’s very kind of you, Moira. Will there be many people there?”

“In Ennio’s? I don’t know. I suppose there will be a fair number.”

“No, I mean to celebrate your birthday?”

“Oh, just the two of us,” Moira said, and she gathered herself up and left.

Noel and Lisa didn’t dare to speak until she had left the building.