Minding Frankie (40 page)

“Yes, I’d love some tea. Could you sit down and talk to me for a bit?”

“I could indeed, and would be glad to. We’re not busy tonight.”

“Ita, you see, you don’t know me from a hole in the ground.”

“That’s true, but I’ll get to know you,” she reassured him.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I
want
someone who doesn’t know me.”

“Oh, yes?”

“It’s easier to talk to a stranger. Will you tell me—am I for the chop?”

Ita had been asked this question before. It was never easy to answer. “Well, you know your illness is serious and that we’re at the stage where all we can do is make you comfortable. But you’re not on the way out tonight.”

“Good. But some night soon, do you think?”

“It won’t be long, Muttie, but I’d say you’ve time to sort things out.” Ita was reassuring. “Is there anyone you want me to call for you?”

“How do you know I want to sort things out?” he asked.

“Everyone does at night, especially their first night in hospital. They want to make speeches and talk to lawyers and they want to talk to all kinds of people. Then, when they’re leaving here, they’ve forgotten it all.”

Muttie’s eyes beseeched her. “And do you think I’ll get out of here?”

Ita looked him in the eye. “I tell you, as sure as I know my own name, you’ll go home from here and then you’ll forget all about us. You won’t remember me and my cups of tea anymore.”

“I will indeed remember you and how kind you are. I’ll tell everyone about you. And you’re right, I do want to make speeches and talk to lawyers and tell people things. I hope to do it all from home.”

“Good man, yourself, Muttie,” Ita said, as she took his empty teacup away. She knew he didn’t have long, but she’d do her best to make his mind easy. She sighed. He was such a warm little man. Why was he being taken when so many grumpy and sour-faced people were left for years with nobody involved in their lives? It was beyond understanding. She and Sean sometimes said it was very hard to believe in a kind, all-knowing God when you saw the random way fate worked. A decent man with a huge family and group of friends was about to die.

Sean would have similar stories from being a policeman. A kid who had joined a gang and had been caught on his first outing, faced with a criminal record; a mother who had no access to money of any kind, shoplifting to get food for her baby and ending up in court.

Life was many things, but it certainly wasn’t fair.

It was clear that Muttie wanted to go home, so they contacted the palliative-care team. Two nurses would visit him each day. After three days, Ita handed him over to a small crowd of people, all of them delighted to see him coming home. Two of Muttie’s children, Mike and Marian, together with Marian’s husband, Harry, had arrived from Chicago, which shocked him.

“You must be made of money that you fly all that way just to see me. Aren’t I grand? I’m going home today and Ita’s going to come to see me,” Muttie added.

“Oh, trust him to find someone else the moment I leave him out of my sight!” Lizzie said, with a laugh of pride in the notion of Muttie the Lothario.

·   ·   ·

Muttie’s Associates from the pub were anxious to see him when he returned. Lizzie wanted to keep them at bay, but her daughter Cathy wasn’t so sure.

“He relaxes when he’s talking to them,” Cathy said.

“But is it sensible to have six big men in the sitting room when he’s so tired all the time?” Lizzie wasn’t sure how much relaxation that would involve. Cathy knew that she was trying to restore order to the home; her brother and sister were, she knew, going to be staying for some time. They all realized their father only had a very short time to live.

Much as Lizzie and Cathy wanted to keep Muttie to themselves, with only the family around him, he did seem to blossom when friends, neighbors and Associates visited. He had always been a man who loved talking with others. None of that side of him had disappeared. It was only his little thin body that showed any sign of the disease that was killing him.

Hooves sat at his feet most of the day. He stopped eating and lay in his basket listlessly.

“Hooves and I,” said Muttie, “we’re not able to get up and about much at the moment. Maybe tomorrow …”

Cathy and Lizzie provided endless cups of tea as a file of people passed through each day. The Associates all came together in a group and the women would hear bursts of laughter as they planned a great new world—a world without the present government, the previous governments, the banks and the law.

The Associates were mild men who talked big, and Muttie had always been at their center. They were jovial and blustering when they were with him, but Cathy could see their faces fall when they were out of his presence.

“It won’t be long now, God save us all,” said one of them, a man not usually known to respect the Almighty and ask for divine help.

But mainly people came in one by one, monitored by Lizzie and Cathy. They were given fifteen minutes at the most. The kind Ita O’Meara came. She spoke about everything except illness. They
talked horses and greyhounds. “Very sound woman,” Muttie remarked approvingly when she left. And they came in their droves, first asking Lizzie what would be a good time. She kept a notebook on the hall table.

Fiona and Declan came and brought little Johnny with them. They told their secret to Muttie: that they were expecting another baby. He said it would remain a secret right up to the end of his life.

Dr. Hat came and brought some scones that he had made himself. Emily Lynch had been teaching him to cook, and it wasn’t bad at all if you put your mind to it. Muttie promised that when he got stronger he would think about it.

Josie and Charles came and talked about how a devotion to St. Jarlath could help in almost any situation. Muttie thanked them and said he was as interested in St. Jarlath as the next man and that if ever he needed him he would certainly try to get in touch with the saint. However, fortunately, he was getting better now and would be back to full strength before long.

Like everyone else, Charles and Josie Lynch were mystified. They so wanted to talk to Muttie about their inheritance from Mrs. Monty and how it should be spent or invested. Up to now they hadn’t told anyone how much money was involved, not even Noel. But it seemed insensitive to talk about such things to a man who was so near death. Could Muttie really not know that he was dying?

Molly and Paddy Carroll felt the same. “He’s talking of going to New York in a couple of months’ time.” Molly was genuinely puzzled. “Muttie won’t go as far as the River Liffey, for heaven’s sake—doesn’t he know that?”

It was a mystery.

Noel came and brought Frankie. As Frankie sat on Muttie’s knee and offered him her sippy cup, Noel talked more openly than he did to anyone. He told Muttie about the terrible fright when Frankie had been lost and how he had felt a pain in his chest as bad as if someone had put a great spade into him and lifted out his insides.

“You’ve made a grand job of this little girl,” Muttie said approvingly.

“I sometimes dream that she’s not my little girl at all and that someone comes to take her away,” Noel confessed.

“That will never happen, Noel.”

“Wasn’t I lucky that Stella contacted me? Suppose she hadn’t—then Frankie would be growing up in a different place and she’d never know any of you.”

“And wasn’t she lucky that she got you, even though you work too hard,” Muttie said begrudgingly.

“I have to work hard. I want to have some kind of a job that I’d be proud of by the time she’s old enough to know what I’m doing.”

“And you gave up the gargle for her. That wasn’t easy.”

“It’s not too bad most of the time. I’m so busy, you see, but there are days when I could murder six pints. Those are bad days.”

“What do you do?” Muttie wanted to know.

“I ring my buddy in AA, and he comes over or meets me for coffee.”

“Marvelous bloody organization. Never needed them myself, fortunately, but they do the job.” Muttie was full of approval.

“You’re a great fellow, Muttie,” Noel said unexpectedly.

“I’m not the worst,” Muttie agreed, “but haven’t I a great family around me. I’m luckier than anyone I ever heard of. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for us, traveling like millionaires back from Chicago because I had a bit of a turn back there. And as for the twins … ! If I lived in a high-class hotel, I couldn’t get better food served to me. They’re always coming up with something new for me.” Muttie’s smile was broad at the thought of it all.

Noel held Frankie tight and she, with her interest in sharing the sippy cup now complete, returned her father’s hug. Noel wondered why he dreamed that she would be taken away. She was his daughter. His flesh and blood.

Marco came to see Muttie. He was dressed in a collar and tie as if he were going somewhere very formal. Lizzie said that of course he
must go in to see Muttie, but to go very gently. Hooves had died during the night, and even though they had tried to keep it from Muttie he had known there was something wrong. Eventually, they had had to tell him.

“Hooves was a great dog—we won’t demean him by crying over him,” he said.

“Right,” Lizzie agreed. “I’ll tell the others.”

When Marco was ushered in he came and stood beside the bed.

“I am so sorry about your dog, Mr. Scarlet.”

“I never thought he’d go before me, Marco. But it’s all for the best—he’d have been very lonely without me.”

“Mr. Scarlet, I know you’re not well and it’s probably the wrong time to ask you this, but there is a question I would love to ask you.”

“And what would that be, Marco?” Muttie smiled at the boy. The good suit, the anxious face, the sweaty palms. It was written all over him what question he was going to ask.

“I would like to ask you to give me the honor of your granddaughter’s hand in marriage,” Marco said stiffly.

“You want to marry Maud? She’s very young, Marco—she hasn’t grown up properly and seen the world or anything.”

“But
I
would show her the world, Mr. Scarlet. I would look after her so well, see that she wanted for nothing.”

“I know you would, lad, and have you asked her yourself?”

“Not yet—it’s important I ask the father or grandfather first.”

“I’m not her grandfather—you know that.”

“She thinks of you as her grandfather, she loves you as if you were.”

Muttie blew his nose. “Well, that’s good, because that’s the way Lizzie and I feel about her and Simon. But how can Maud marry you if she’s going to New Jersey with Simon?”

“She’s not going now, they’ve put that off,” Marco said.

“That’s only because I have been sick. They’ll go … you know … afterwards.”

“You will be here for a long time, Mr. Scarlet.”

“No, son, I won’t, but I’m sure you and Maud have it all worked out between you.”

“I couldn’t tell her I wanted to marry her until I asked you first.…” The boy’s handsome face was beseeching him to give his blessing.

“And would she work with you in your father’s restaurant?”

“Yes, for the moment, if she liked to do that, then we would both like to open a restaurant of our own. It may be many years ahead but my father says he will give me some money. You must have no fears about her—she will be treasured by our family.”

Muttie looked at him. “If Maud says she would like to marry you, then I would be delighted.”

“Thank you, dear Mr. Scarlet,” said Marco, hardly daring to believe his good luck.

Lisa came to see Muttie also.

“I don’t know you well, Mr. Scarlet, but you’re a great character. I heard you’d been ill and I was wondering if there was anything I could do for you?”

Muttie looked around to make sure there was no one in the room with them.

“If I gave you fifty euro, could you put it on the nose of Not the Villain for me?”

“Oh, Mr. Scarlet, really …”

“It’s my money, Lisa. Can’t you do that for me? You
did
say you wanted to help me.”

“Sure. I’ll do it. What odds do you expect?”

“Ten to one. Don’t take less.”

“But then you’d win five hundred,” she said, stunned.

“And you will get an enabler’s fee,” Muttie said, laughing heartily as Lizzie bustled in to clear the teacups and arrange a little rest time before the next visitor.

·   ·   ·

Lisa didn’t know where there were any local betting shops, but Dingo Duggan was able to come up with the name of a nearby place.

“I’ll drive you there,” he said helpfully.

Dingo rather fancied Lisa and he liked to be seen with a good-looking girl sitting up front in his van.

“Got a good tip, then?” he asked.

“Someone asked me to put fifty euro on a horse at ten to one.”

“God, that must be a great horse,” Dingo said wistfully. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you were to drop the name to me. I mean it won’t shorten the price or anything. I have only ten euro, but it would be great to have a hundred. Great altogether.”

Lisa told him the name of the horse but warned him, “The source is not entirely reliable, Dingo. I’d hate to see you lose your money.”

“Don’t worry,” Dingo reassured her. “I have a very sharp mind.”

Lisa felt out of place in the betting shop, and the presence of Dingo made it worse.

“Where are you off to now?” Dingo asked when the transaction was over.

“I’m going to see Anton,” Lisa said.

“I’ll drive you there,” Dingo offered.

“No, thank you—I need a walk to clear my head and I’ve got to get my hair done too.”

These were perfectly ordinary things to do, but Dingo noticed that Lisa announced them as if they were matters of huge importance. He shrugged.

Women were very hard to understand.

Katie sighed when Lisa came in. Yet another demand for a quick fix. The salon was already full. Had she ever heard of the appointment system?

“I need something, Katie,” Lisa said.

“It will be half an hour at least,” Katie said.

“I’ll wait.” Lisa was unexpectedly calm and patient.

Katie glanced at her from time to time. Lisa had magazines in her lap, but she never looked at them. Her eyes and mind were far away.