Minding Frankie (37 page)

“We should have said she didn’t look thirty-five,” Lisa said.

“What does she look?” Noel asked.

“She could be a hundred. She could be any age. Why did she ask me to dinner?”

“Maybe she fancies you,” Noel said, and then, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just making a joke.”

“Right, you can afford to make jokes. You’re not the one having dinner with her on Friday.”

“She may be going mad,” Noel said thoughtfully.

Lisa had been wondering exactly the same thing.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well …” Noel spoke slowly and deliberately. “It’s a very odd thing to do. No one normal would invite you to dinner. You of all people.”

She looked up at him and saw he was smiling.

“Yes, you’re right, Noel. The woman’s lonely and she has no friends. That’s all.”

“I was wondering …” Noel paused. “I was thinking of inviting Faith to dinner. A proper dinner, not just a bowl of soup or something on toast. You know, to thank her for the notes and everything.”

“Oh, yes?” Lisa said.

“I wonder, would Friday be a good night? You’ll probably be out late, hitting the clubs with Moira. I’d feel safer having a meal here. It’s such a temptation to order a bottle of wine or have a cocktail in a restaurant.” Noel rarely spoke of his alcoholism at home. He went to meetings and there was no drink in the flat. It was unusual for him to bring the subject up.

He must be interested in Faith after all. Lisa’s mind leapt ahead again. Suppose Faith really did move in with Noel? Where would that leave Lisa? But she mustn’t start to fuss. That was her least attractive quality. Anton had told her when they were in Scotland
that she was an absolute angel when she didn’t fuss. And Noel deserved some happiness in his life.

“That’s a great idea. I’ll do a salad for you before I go out and maybe you could cook that chicken in ginger you do sometimes. It’s very impressive. And we’ll make sure to iron the tablecloth and napkins.”

“It’s only Faith. It’s not a competition,” Noel protested.

“But you want her to know you’ve gone to some trouble to entertain her, don’t you?”

Noel realized with a shock that this was the first date he had planned in years.

“And in return you have to help me think of a present for Moira. Not too dear. I’m broke!”

“Ask Emily to look out for something from the thrift shop for you. She finds great things—new things, even.”

“That’s an idea.” Lisa brightened. “Well, Frankie, social life around here is getting very lively. You’re going to be hard pushed to keep up with us.…”

Frankie stretched her arms out to Lisa.

“Mama,”
she said.

“Nearly there, Frankie, but it’s Lee-Za, much posher.” But from this child, “mama” was perfectly fine.

Faith was surprised and pleased to be invited.

“Will there be many people there?” she asked nervously.

“Just the two of us,” Noel said. “Will that be all right?”

“Oh, fine!” Faith seemed very relieved. She smiled at him. “Thanks, Noel, I’m looking forward to dinner.”

“Me too,” said Noel. He wondered suddenly was she expecting that they would go to bed together. He realized he had never made love in his life while sober. He had heard some terrible stories on this topic at AA. It was apparently fraught with difficulties and had disastrous effects on performance. Many people had told his AA group
that they had taken a quick shot of vodka just to see them right and were back on full-time drinking within a week.

But he would face that if and when it occurred. No point in destroying Wednesday thinking about Friday. This one-day-at-a-time thing really worked.

Friday eventually came.

Emily had found a small mother-of-pearl brooch as a gift for Lisa to give Moira. She even produced a little box and some black velvet. Moira couldn’t help but like that.

Anton had laughed when Lisa had said she was going to Ennio’s with Moira.

“That should be a bundle of fun,” he had said dismissively.

“It will be fine,” she said, suddenly feeling defensive.

“If you want cheapo pasta, a bottle of plonk and a couple of Italians bunching up their fingers to kiss them and say
‘bella signora’ …
”

“They’re nice there.” Why she was being protective towards this little trattoria, she didn’t know.

“Yeah and we’re nice in Anton’s too, so why didn’t you and the social worker choose us?”

“Be real, Anton. A Friday night! And anyway, it was her shout. She chose Ennio’s.”

He looked like a small boy who had been crossed. “I’d have given you early-bird rates all night.”

“I know that, she didn’t. See you.”

“Are you coming round later? It’s Teddy’s birthday too and we’re having a few drinks after closing time.”

“Oh, no, we’ll be hitting the clubs by then.” She remembered Noel’s expression. It was worth it to see the look of surprise and irritation on Anton’s face.

·   ·   ·

Noel set the table at Chestnut Court. Lisa had left the salad in the fridge covered in cling wrap and his chicken-and-ginger dish was under foil and ready to put in the oven for twenty-five minutes. The potatoes were in a saucepan.

Frankie had been delivered to Declan and Fiona’s: she was going to have a sleepover.

“Dada,” she said as he waved her good-bye, and his heart turned over as it always did when she smiled at him. Now he was in the apartment waiting for a woman to come to supper, like someone normal would do.

Lisa had looked very well as she set out to the birthday celebration. It was so comforting to know that Anton was jealous, that he really thought she would go to a nightclub.

At Ennio’s the host was waiting for them.

“Che belle signore!”
he said, giving them each a small bunch of violets. Exactly as Anton had said he would. “Marco,
vieni qui, una tavola per queste due bellissime signore.
”

The son of the house bustled towards them and dusted chairs. Moira and Lisa thanked him profusely.

Lisa spotted that Maud was working there that night, and Marco saw Lisa recognize her.

“I think you know my friend and colleague Maud,” he said proudly.

“Yes, indeed I do. Lovely girl,” Lisa said. “And this is Moira Tierney, who chose the restaurant for her birthday celebration.”

“Moira Tierney …,” Marco repeated the words fearfully. “Maud has mentioned your name to me.” Written all over his face was the fact that the mention had perhaps not been the most cordial, but he struggled to remember his job of welcoming guests and handed them the menus.

They began choosing their food. If Moira said once that the markup on the food was enormous, she must have said it a dozen times.

“Imagine charging that for garlic bread!” she gasped, as if astonished.

“We don’t have to have garlic bread,” Lisa said.

“No, no, we’ll have everything we want. It’s a celebration,” Moira said in a sepulchral voice.

“Indeed it is.” Lisa was bright and positive. This looked like it would be a long night.

Emily went to Dr. Hat’s house to check that he had his curry ready for his friend Michael. She wanted to show him that he should have a dish of sliced bananas and a little bowl of coconut as well.

To her surprise the table was set for three.

“Will his wife be with him?” Emily asked, surprised. Only Michael had been mentioned up to now.

“No, Michael never married. Another crusty old bachelor,” Dr. Hat said.

“So who is the third person?”

“I was rather hoping that
you
would join us,” he said hesitantly.

Paddy Carroll and his wife, Molly, were going to a butchers’ dinner. It took place every year; the wives dressed up and it was held in a smart hotel. It was an occasion where Paddy Carroll had been known to over-imbibe, so Declan would drive them there and a taxi would be ordered to take them home.

Fiona waved them off as they left in a flurry, then she sat down with a big mug of tea to watch over the two little ones crawling around the floor before she had to settle them in their cribs. They were both a bit restless this evening and she was going to have to separate them if they were going to go to sleep. She was wondering if she might possibly be pregnant again. If she was, it would be great and Declan would be so pleased, but it would mean that they would have to stir themselves and make sure the house was ready for them
to move into before the baby was born. They couldn’t put Paddy and Molly through all that business of a crying baby again.

Finally, along with the second bottle of wine, Moira broached the subject of Eddie Kennedy. Lisa thought she understood the situation, but she didn’t really see the problem.

“Of course you don’t have to do anything for him,” she said. “It was the luck of the draw that he got you as a social worker. You don’t have to tell him about the cozy little homestead down there.”

“But he bought that house before he got addled with drink. He’s entitled to live there.”

“Nonsense. He gave up all rights and entitlements when he went off to England. He chose to opt out of this life. He can’t expect you to turf your father out and get his wife to take him back. She probably wouldn’t want him anyway.…”

“But is he to die in a hostel because I don’t want to disturb things?”

“He chose that route.” Lisa was firm.

“If it was your father …,” Moira began.

“I hate my father. I wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire!”

“I feel guilty. I’ve always given my clients the best. I’m not doing this with Eddie Kennedy,” Moira said bleakly.

“Suppose you made it up to him in other ways? You know, went to see him in the hostel, took him out for the odd afternoon.”

Moira looked at her in disbelief. How could this be doing her duty? It would be crossing the thin line that divided professionalism from friendship. Entirely unsuitable.

Lisa shrugged. “Well, that’s what I’d do, anyway.” She caught Marco’s eye, and in thirty seconds a little cake with one candle came from the kitchen. The waiters sang “Happy Birthday” and everyone in the restaurant clapped.

Moira was pink and flustered. She tried to cut the cake and all the filling oozed out of one side. Lisa took the knife from her.

“Happy birthday, Moira,” she said, putting as much warmth into it as she could. To her amazement she saw the tears falling down Moira’s face.

Thirty-five and this was probably the only birthday party she had ever had.

Up in Chestnut Court the dinner was going very well.

“Aren’t you a dark horse, being able to cook like this!” Faith said appreciatively. She was easy to talk to—not garrulous, but she talked engagingly of her background.

She spoke briefly about the accident that had killed her fiancé, but she didn’t dwell on it. Terrible things happened to a lot of people. They had to pick themselves up.

“Do you still love him?” Noel asked as he spooned out another helping of chicken.

“No. In fact I can barely remember him. And you, Noel, do you miss Frankie’s mother a lot?” Faith asked.

“No, I’m a bit like you. I hardly remembered Stella, but then that was in my drinking days. I don’t remember anything much from those times.” He smiled nervously. “But I love to have Frankie around the place.”

“Where is she now? I brought her a funny little book of animals. It’s made of cloth, so it doesn’t matter if she eats it!”

“Lisa dropped her in to Fiona and Declan’s. Lisa’s gone out to supper.”

“With Anton?”

“No, with Moira, actually.”

“A different kind of outing, certainly.” Faith knew the cast of characters.

“You could say that.” Noel beamed at her. This was all going so well.

·   ·   ·

Fiona had just brought Declan a mug of coffee when she heard running feet outside the door and there was Lizzie, disheveled and distraught.

“Can Declan come quickly? I’m so sorry to interrupt you, but Muttie’s been sick and it’s all blood!”

Declan was already out of his chair and grabbing his doctor’s bag.

“I’ll come in a minute—I’ll have to sort out the kids,” Fiona shouted.

“Fine.” In seconds Declan was through the Scarlets’ front door. Muttie was ashen-faced, and he had been vomiting into a bowl. Declan took in the scene at a glance. “A thing of nothing, Muttie. They’ll have you as right as rain in the hospital.”

“Couldn’t you deal with it, Declan?”

“No, you need to be where they can take care of you properly.”

“But it will take forever to get an ambulance,” Muttie objected.

“We’re going in my car. Get in there right now,” Declan said firmly.

Lizzie wanted to go with them, but Declan persuaded her to wait for Fiona. He took her back inside the house and whispered that as the hospital might need to keep Muttie in overnight, the best thing was for her to go and pack a small bag for him. Fiona would bring Lizzie up to the hospital in a taxi when she was ready, and not to worry, he would make sure that Muttie was in safe hands. He knew that having something useful to do would calm her.

By now, Fiona had arrived and they quickly realized that they had to find somewhere for Johnny and Frankie to spend the evening and do it fast or there would be total confusion. Noel was having the first date of his life; his parents were away. Lisa had gone out with Moira—which at least would keep the social worker out of their hair; Emily would be the one to call on. Leaving Fiona to make the arrangements, Declan sped off with Muttie beside him, looking pale and frightened.

Emily had insisted that Dr. Hat serve the meal himself. After all, he had made it.

Michael proved to be a quiet, thoughtful man. He asked her gentle questions about her past life. It was as if he were checking her out for his old friend Hat. She hoped that she was giving a good account of herself. Hat was such a good and pleasant companion, she would hate to lose his friendship.

She was surprised when her phone rang in the pocket of her jacket as they were at the dining table. She wasn’t expecting any calls.

“Emily, big crisis. Can you do baby patrol?” Fiona sounded frightened.

Emily didn’t hesitate. “Certainly. I’m on my way!” She quickly excused herself and hastened down the road.