Minding Frankie (22 page)

Moira asked politely about the campaign for the statue to St. Jarlath and Josie and Charles showed her some quotes they had from sculptors. Bronze was very expensive, but they hoped they might be able to afford it.

“Do you have a particular devotion to St. Jarlath, by any chance?” Josie was always hopeful of recruiting others to the cause.

“Admiration, certainly,” Moira murmured, “but
devotion
might be putting it a bit strongly.”

Emily hid her smile. When Moira was being diplomatic you could see she’d be good at her job. What a pity she couldn’t see what huge strides Noel was making. Why did she have to behave like a policeman with him rather than an encourager and someone he could turn to if there were any problems? As usual, Emily wrote it all to her friend Betsy back in New York. Somehow, typing it on her laptop made it seem clearer.

“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.…

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.