Minding Frankie (23 page)

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 start.

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.

Declan shrugged. “I’ve no idea,” he said. Let Noel sweat a bit. Let him think that Moira was on the case.

“Oh, my God …,” Noel said. His face had almost dissolved in grief.

Declan took pity on him. “Well, no one else turned up, so I suppose I was the only one,” he said.

“I’m so sorry,” Noel began.

“Why?” Declan cut across him.

“I can’t remember. I really can’t. I felt a bit uptight and I thought one or two drinks might help and wouldn’t matter. I didn’t know it was going to end like this.…”

Declan said nothing and Malachy was silent too. Noel couldn’t bear it.

“Malachy, why didn’t you stop me?” he asked.

“Because I was at home doing a jigsaw with my ten-year-old son. I didn’t hear from you that you were going out—that’s why.” Malachy hadn’t spoken such a long sentence before.

“But, Malachy, I thought you were meant to …”

“I am
meant
to come when there’s a danger that you might be about to go back to drinking. I am
not
meant to be inspired by the Holy Ghost as to when you decide this kind of activity all on your own,” Malachy said.

“I didn’t know it was going to turn out like this,” Noel said piteously.

“No, you thought it would be lovely and easy like the movies. And I bet you wondered what we were all doing at those meetings.”

Noel’s face showed that this is exactly what he had wondered.

Declan Carroll suddenly felt very tired. “Where do we go from here?” he asked both men.

“It’s up to Noel,” Malachy said.

“Why is it up to me?” Noel cried.

“If you want to try to kick it again, I’ll try to help you. But it’s going to be hell on earth.”

“Of course I want to,” Noel said.

“It’s no use if you are just waiting for me to get out of your hair so that you can sneak off and stick your face into it again.”

“I won’t do that,” Noel wailed. “From tomorrow on it will be back just the same as it was up to now.”

“What do you mean
tomorrow
? What’s wrong with
today
?” Malachy asked.

“Well, tomorrow, fresh start and everything.”

“Today, fresh start and everything,” Malachy said.

“But just a couple of vodkas to straighten me up and then we can start with a clean slate?” Noel was almost begging now.

“Grow up, Noel,” Malachy said.

Declan spoke. “I can’t let you look after our son anymore, Noel. Johnny won’t come here again unless we know you’re off the sauce,” he said slowly and deliberately.

“Ah, Declan, don’t hit me when I’m down. I wouldn’t hurt a hair of that child’s head.” Noel had tears in his eyes.

“You left your own daughter with Dingo Duggan for hour after hour. No, Noel, I wouldn’t risk it. And even if I did, Fiona wouldn’t.”

“Does she have to know?”

“I think so, yes.” Declan hated doing it, but it was the truth. They couldn’t trust Noel anymore. And if he felt like that, what would Moira feel?

It didn’t bear thinking about.

“We have to tell Aidan and Signora,” Declan said.

“Why?” Noel asked, worried. “I’m over it now. I hate them knowing I’m so weak.”

“You’re
not
weak, Noel—you’re very strong. It’s not easy for you doing what you do. I know. Believe me.”

“No, I don’t believe you, Declan. You were always a social drinker, a pint in the evening and no more. That’s balance and moderation—two things I was never any good at.”

“You took on more than most men would have done. I admire you a lot,” Declan said simply.

“I don’t admire myself. I disgust myself,” Noel said.

“And what help will that be to Frankie as she grows up? Come on, Noel—it’s her first Christmas coming up. The whole street is going to celebrate. You’ve got to get yourself into good form for it. No self-pity.”

“But Signora and Aidan?”

“They know
something
is wrong. We mustn’t play games with them. They can cope with it, Noel. They’ve coped with a lot in their lives.”

“Anyone else I should tell?” Noel looked defensive and hurt by it all.

“Yes, Lisa, of course, and Emily.” Declan was very definite.

“No, please. Please, not Emily.”

“No need to tell your parents or my parents or anyone like that, but Emily and Lisa need to know.”

“I thought it was over,” Noel said sadly.

Declan forced himself to be cheerful. “It will be over soon and meanwhile the more help you can get, the better.”

“Go back to the real world and heal the sick, Declan. Don’t bother with me and my addictions.”

“What could be more real than the man whose daughter is going to be best friends with our son—remember? We arranged it with Stella.”

“Thank God she doesn’t know how it all turned out,” Noel said fervently.

“It turned out very well until now and it will again. Anyway, according to people like your parents and mine, Stella
does
know, and she understands it all perfectly.”

“You don’t believe any of that claptrap, Declan, do you?”

“Not exactly, but you know …” Declan ended it vaguely.

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know at all. But if I have to tell Aidan and Signora then I will. Is that okay?”

“Thanks, Noel.”

Declan had, of course, already told Fiona all about Noel. She had been, as usual, practical and optimistic.

“He sounds shocked by what he did,” she said.

“Yes, but I wish I knew
why
he did it,” Declan said, worried.

“You said yourself he was in bad form.”

“But he must have been in bad form a hundred times during the last few months and he never went out on the town. He loves that child. You should see him with her. He’s as good as any mother.”

“I know, I
have
seen him … everyone has. That child has a dozen families round here who’ll all do a bit more at the moment.”

“Noel’s very sensitive about not letting people know, but he has to tell them. Until he does, don’t say anything.”

“Quiet as the grave,” Fiona said.

Declan Carroll took his morning surgery. He had been two hours late, so Dr. Hat had been called in to help.

“Muttie Scarlet rang a couple of times. He said you’d have some results for him today.”

“And I do,” Declan said glumly.

“I thought you might.” Dr. Hat was sympathetic.

“Isn’t it a shit life, Hat?” Declan said.

“It is indeed, but I’m usually the one who says that and you always say it’s not so bad.”

“I’m not saying that today. I’m off out to Muttie’s house. Can you stay a bit longer?”

“I’ll stay as long as you like. They don’t want me, though; they’ll ask when the
real
doctor will be back,” Dr. Hat said.

“I bet they do! They still ask me was I born when they got their first twinge of whatever they have and the answer is always that I wasn’t.”

“Ah, Declan, any news yet?” Muttie answered the door. He spoke in a low voice. He didn’t want his wife, Lizzie, to hear the conversation.

“You know how they are,” Declan said. “They’re so laid-back up there in the hospital they give a new urgency to the word
mañana.…
”

“So?” Muttie asked.

“So I was wondering would we go and have a pint?” Declan said.

“I’ll go and get Hooves,” Muttie suggested.

“No, let’s go to Casey’s instead of Dad’s and your pub—too many Associates there … we’d get nothing said.”