by Maeve Binchy
And the campaign for the statue is going great guns. We are thinking of having it cast in bronze at this stage. And the whole business of the thrift shop has given Josie a new lease on life. She works away there happily with Molly Carroll and me. A lovely fedora came in last week and Josie took it to this man Dr. Hat to add to his collection.
My uncle Charles has a very satisfactory dog-walking business now—even the hotel where he used to work has employed him to come and walk their customers’ dogs.
He has even become a babysitter for his granddaughter on the evenings when Noel and Lisa go to their lectures.
When I’m not helping out at the doctors’ clinic I’m busy doing gardens and window boxes—the whole crescent looks just great. We might even win a prize in a competition for Most Attractive Street. In fact, I’m so busy that I haven’t read a book or been to a play. And as for an art exhibit—it’s been months!
Tell me about yourself and life back there. I have forgotten I ever lived in New York!
Love,
Emily
She got a reply in minutes:
Emily,
You must be psychic.
Eric asked me to marry him last night. I said I would if, and only if, you came back to New York to be my maid of honor.
Considering our great age, I thought a small wedding would be best, but nobody said anything about keeping the honeymoon low-key.
Ireland, here we come!
Love,
Betsy
“I hear your aunt is going back to America for a vacation,” Moira said to Noel.
“She’s actually my cousin, but you’re right—she is going to New York. How did you know?” Noel asked, surprised.
“Someone mentioned it,” Moira, who made it her business to know everything, said vaguely.
“Yes, she’s going to be in her friend’s wedding,” Noel said. “But then she’s coming back again. My parents are very relieved, I tell you. They’d be lost without Emily.”
“And you would too, Noel, wouldn’t you?” Moira said.
“Well, I would miss her certainly, but as far as my mother is concerned, the thrift shop would close down without Emily, and my father thinks the world of her too.”
“But surely you are the one she has helped most, Noel?” Moira was persistent.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, didn’t she pay your tuition fees at the college? Get you this apartment, arrange a babysitting roster for you and probably a lot more.…”
There was a dull red flush on Noel’s face and neck. He had never been so annoyed in his whole life. Had Emily blabbed to this awful woman? She had gone over to the enemy and told Moira all about things that were meant to be private between them. Nobody was ever going to know about the fees—that was their secret. He felt betrayed, like he had never felt before. There was no way he could know that Moira was only guessing.
She was looking at him politely, waiting for a reply, but he didn’t trust himself to speak.
“You must have thought about who would take over her duties when she was away?”
“I thought maybe Dingo might help,” Noel said eventually in a strangled voice.
“Dingo?” Moira said the name with distaste.
“You know, he does some deliveries to the thrift shop. Dingo Duggan.”
“I don’t know him, no.”
“He only helps out the odd time when no one else is available.”
“And you never thought to tell me about this Dingo Duggan?” Moira asked, horrified.
“Listen to me, Moira, you give me a pain right in the arse,” Noel said suddenly.
“I beg your pardon?” She looked at him in disbelief.
“You heard me. I’m breaking my back to do this right. I’m nearly dead on my feet sometimes, but do you ever see any of this? Oh, no, it’s constantly moving the goalposts and complaining and behaving like the secret police.”
“Really, Noel. Control yourself.”
“No, I will not control myself. You come here investigating me as if I were some sort of criminal. Repeating poor Dingo’s name as if he were a mass murderer instead of a decent poor eejit, which is what he is.”
“A decent poor eejit. I see.” She started to write something down, but Noel pushed her clipboard away and it fell to the ground.
“And then you go and pry and question people. And try to get them to say bad things about me, pretending to look out for Frankie’s good.”
Moira remained very still during this outburst. Eventually she said, “I’ll leave now, Noel, and come back tomorrow. You will hopefully have calmed down by then.”
And she turned and left the apartment.
· · ·
Noel sat and stared ahead of him. That woman was bound to bring in some reinforcements and get Frankie taken away from him. His eyes filled with tears. He and Lisa had been planning her first Christmas, but now Noel wasn’t certain that Frankie would still be with them by next week.
Noel picked up his phone and called Dingo. “Mate, can you do me a great favor and come and hold the fort for a couple of hours?”
Dingo was always agreeable.
“Sure, Noel. Can I bring a DVD or is the child asleep?”
“She’ll sleep through it if it’s not too loud.”
Noel waited until Dingo was installed. “I’m off now,” he said briefly.
Dingo looked at him. “Are you okay, Noel? You look a bit, I don’t know, a bit funny.”
“I’m fine,” Noel said.
“And will you have your phone on?”
“Maybe not, Dingo, but the emergency numbers are all in the kitchen, you know: Lisa, my parents, Emily, the hospital or anything. They’re all there on the wall.” And then he was gone. He took a bus to the other side of Dublin, and in the anonymity of a cavernous bar Noel Lynch drank pints for the first time in months.
They felt great … bloody great.…
Chapter Seven
It was Declan who had to pick up the pieces. Dingo phoned him a half an hour after midnight, sounding very upset.
“I’m sorry for waking you, Declan, but I didn’t know what to do—she’s roaring like a bull.”
“Who is roaring like a bull?” Declan was struggling to wake up.
“Frankie. Can’t you hear her?”
“Is she all right? When did you last feed her? Does she need changing?”
“I don’t do changing and feeding. I was just holding the fort. That’s what he asked me to do.”
“And where is he? Where’s Noel?”
“Well, I don’t know, do I? Fine bloody fort-holding it turned out to be. I’ve been here six hours now!”
“His phone?”
“Turned off. God, Declan, what am I to do? She’s bright red in the face.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Declan said, getting out of bed.
“No, Declan, you don’t have to go out. You’re not on call!” Fiona protested.
“Noel’s gone off somewhere,” Declan told her. “He left the baby with Dingo. I have to go over there.”
“God, Noel would never do that!” Fiona was shocked.
“I know, that’s why I’m going over there.”
“And where’s Lisa?”
“Not there, obviously. Go back to sleep, Fiona. No use the whole family being unable to go to work tomorrow.”
He was dressed and out of the house in minutes.
He was worried about Noel—very worried indeed.
“God bless you, Declan,” Dingo said with huge relief when Declan came into Chestnut Court. He watched, mystified, as Declan expertly changed a nappy, washed and powdered the baby’s bottom, made up the formula and heated the milk, all in seamless movements.
“I’d never be able to do that,” Dingo said admiringly.
“Of course you would. You will when you have one of your own.”
“I was going to leave it all to the woman, whoever she might be …,” Dingo admitted.
“I
wouldn’t rely on it, Dingo, me old mate. Not these days. It’s shared everything, believe me. And quite right too.”
Frankie was perfectly peaceful. All they had to do now was to find her father.
“He didn’t say where he was going, but I sort of thought it was for an hour or two. I thought he was going home to his parents for something.”
“Was he upset about anything before he went out?”
“I thought he was a bit distracted. He showed me all the numbers on the wall.…”
“As if he were planning to stay out, do you think?”
“God, I don’t know, Declan. Maybe the poor lad was hit by a bus and we’re all misjudging him. He could be in an A&E somewhere with his phone broken.”
“He could.” Declan didn’t know why he felt so certain that Noel had gone back on the drink. The man had been heroic for months. What could have changed him? And, more important, how would they ever find him?
“Go home, Dingo,” Declan sighed. “You’ve held the fort for long enough. I’ll do it until Noel gets back.”
“Should we ring anyone on this list, do you think?” Dingo didn’t want to abandon everything.
“It’s one in the morning. No point in worrying everyone.”
“No, I suppose not.” Dingo was still reluctant.
“I’ll call you, Dingo, when he’s found, and I’ll tell him you didn’t want to leave but I forced you to.” He had hit the right note. Dingo hadn’t wanted to leave his post without permission. Now he could go back home without guilt.
Declan sat down beside Frankie’s crib. The baby slept on as peacefully as his own son slept back at home. But little Johnny Carroll had a much more secure future ahead of him than poor baby Frankie here. Declan sighed heavily as he settled himself into an armchair.
Where could Noel be until this hour?
Noel was asleep in a shed on the other side of Dublin.
He had no idea how he had got there. The last thing he could remember was some kind of argument in a bar and people refusing him further drink. He had left in annoyance and then found, to his rage, that he couldn’t get back in again, and there were no other public houses in the area. He had walked for what seemed a very long time and then it got cold, so he decided to have a rest before he went home.
Home?
He would have to be careful letting himself in to 23 St. Jarlath’s Crescent—then he remembered with a shock that he didn’t live there anymore.
He lived in Chestnut Court with Frankie and Lisa.
He would have to be even more careful going back there. Lisa would be shocked at him and Frankie might even be frightened. But Lisa was away. He remembered that now. His heart gave a sudden jump. What about the baby? He would never have left Frankie alone in the apartment, would he?
No, of course he hadn’t. He remembered Dingo had come in. Noel looked at his watch. That was hours ago. Hours. Was Dingo still there? He wouldn’t have contacted Moira, would he? Oh, please, God, please, St. Jarlath, please, anyone up there, let Dingo not have rung Moira.
He felt physically ill at the thought and realized that he was indeed going to be sick. As a courtesy to whoever owned this garden shed, Noel went out to the road. Then his legs felt weak and wouldn’t support him. He went back into the shed and passed out.
In spite of the discomfort, Declan slept for several hours in the chair. When the light came in the window he realized that Noel hadn’t come home. He went to make himself a cup of tea and decide what to do. He rang Fiona.
“Is today one of Moira’s days up in your clinic?”
“Yes, she’ll be there for the morning. Are you coming home?”
“Not immediately. Remember, don’t say a word to her about any of this. We’ll try to cover for him, but she can’t know. Not until we’ve found him.”
“Where is he, Declan?” Fiona sounded frightened.
“Out on the tear somewhere, I imagine.…”
“Listen, Signora and Aidan will be here soon. They’re collecting Johnny and will be going to pick up Frankie then and take them to their daughter’s place.…”
“I’ll wait until they’re here. I’ll have her ready for them.”
“You really are a saint, Declan,” Fiona said.
“What else can we do? And remember, Moira knows nothing.”
“Not a word to the Kamp Kommandant,” Fiona promised.
The clinic was in a state of fuss because Frank Ennis was paying one of his unexpected visits.
“You were out with him last night—did he not give you any idea he was coming in today?” Hilary asked Clara Casey.
“Me?” asked Clara in disbelief. “I’m the very last person on earth that he’d tell. He’s always hoping to catch me out in something. It’s driving him mad that he hasn’t been able to do it so far.”
“Look, he’s talking to Moira very intently about something,” Hilary whispered.
“Well, we marked her card for her about Frank,” Clara said, “and if Ms. Tierney says a word out of order she’s out of here.”
“I’ll get nearer and see what they’re talking about,” Hilary offered.
“Really, Hilary, I am surprised at you,” Clara said in mock horror.
“You go away and I’ll hover,” said Hilary. “I’m a great hoverer. That’s why I know so much.”
Clara made for her desk, which was in the center of the clinic; there was a phone call from Declan.
“Don’t say my name,” he said immediately.
“Sure, right. What can I do for you?”
“Is Moira near you?”
“Quite, yes.”
“Could you find out what she’s doing after she leaves you today? I’ll make myself clear. We share baby-minding arrangements with a friend and his baby. It’s just that they’re clients of Moira’s and she’s been a bit tough on him. He’s gone off on a batter. I have to drag him back here and sort things out. We want to keep Moira out of the place until tomorrow, at any rate. If she discovers the setup, then things will really hit the fan.”
“I see …”
“So, if there was any other direction you could head her towards …?”
“Leave it with me,” Clara said, “and cheer up—maybe your worst scenario won’t turn out to be right.”
“No, I’m afraid it’s only too right. His AA buddy has just called in. He’s getting him back here in about half an hour.”
Hilary came over to Clara with a report.
“He’s pumping her for information. Like ‘Do you see any areas of conspicuous waste,’ and ‘Do the healthy cookery classes work or are they just a distraction.’ You know, the usual kind of thing he goes on about.”
“And what’s she singing in response?”
“Nothing yet, but that may be because she’s here under our eye. If he got her on his own, Lord knows what he’d get out of her.”
“Be more confident, Hilary. We’re not doing anything wrong here. But you’ve given me an idea.”
Clara approached Frank Ennis and Moira.
“Seeing you two together reminded me that Moira hasn’t seen the social-work setup in the main hospital. Frank, maybe you could introduce her to some of the team over there—today, possibly?”
“Oh, I have a lot of calls to make on my caseload.”
Clara gave a tinkling laugh. “Oh, really, Moira, you’re so much on top of everything, I imagine your caseload is run like clockwork.”
Moira seemed pleased with the praise.
“You know the way it is. You’ve got to be watchful,” she said.
“I agree,” Frank boomed unexpectedly. “Everyone should be much more watchful than they are.”
“I was hoping, Moira, that you could link up with the whole system, but of course if you feel it’s too much for you … then …”
Clara had judged it exactly right. Moira made an arrangement to meet Frank at lunchtime.
Clara had managed to give Noel, Declan and the man from Alcoholics Anonymous a bit of a head star
t.
Aidan and Signora Dunne had arrived with little Johnny Carroll and taken Frankie with them. They would wheel the two baby buggies along the canal to Aidan’s daughter’s house. There Signora would look after all three children—their grandson, Joseph Edward, along with Frankie and Johnny, while Aidan gave private Latin lessons to students who hoped to go to university.
It was a peaceful and undemanding morning. If they had wondered what Dr. Carroll was doing in Noel Lynch’s place and why there was no sign of a normally devoted father, they had said nothing. They minded their own business, the Dunnes. Declan was glad of them many times, but never more so than today. The fewer people who knew about this, the better.
Malachy arrived, more or less supporting Noel in the doorway. Noel was shaking and shivering. His clothes were filthy and stained. He seemed totally disoriented.
“Is he still drunk?” Declan asked Malachy.
“Hard to say. Possibly.” Malachy was a man of few words.
“I’ll turn on the shower. Can you get him into it?”
“Sure.”
Malachy was as good as his word. He propelled Noel into the water, letting it get cooler all the time until it was almost cold. Meanwhile, Declan picked up all the dirty clothes and put them into the washing machine. He laid out clean clothes from Noel’s room and made them all a pot of tea.
Noel’s eyes were more focused now, but still he said nothing.
Malachy was not speaking either.
Declan poured another mug of tea and allowed the silence to become uncomfortable. He would not make things easy for Noel. The man would have to come up with something. Answers, or even questions.
Eventually Noel asked, “Where’s Frankie?”
“With Aidan and Signora.”
“And where’s Dingo?”
“Gone to work,” Declan said tersely. Noel was going to have to speak again.
“And did he phone you?” He nodded towards Declan.
“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” Declan said.
“And are you the only one he phoned?” Noel’s voice was a whisper.