Minding Frankie

by Maeve Binchy

  “Don’t worry about it,” Emily advised. “I’ll have a talk with Moira.”

  “I wish you’d stay and have a talk with her every day,” Lisa grumbled.

  “You can always e-mail me, but, for the Lord’s sake, don’t tell everyone else that.”

  “Just about Frankie,” Lisa promised.

  “That’s a deal, then—just about Frankie,” said Emily, knowing that no law was so strict that it couldn’t be bent for an emergency.

  Eventually Emily got away.

  She could hardly believe that it was just a matter of months since she had arrived here knowing nobody and now she seemed to be making seismic gaps in their lives by leaving for three weeks. It was amazing how much she had been absorbed into this small community.

  She hoped she wasn’t going to speak with an Irish brogue when she got back to the United States. She hoped too that she wouldn’t use any Irishisms such as saying “Jaysus!” like they did in Dublin with no apparent blasphemy or disrespect. It had startled her at first, but then it had become second nature.

  As she got nearer to New York she became excited at all that lay ahead. She tried to force the Irish cast of characters away from the main stage of her mind. She had to concentrate on Eric’s mother and Betsy’s brother, but images kept coming back to her.

  Noel and Lisa in Chestnut Court soothing the baby as they prepared for a college degree that might or might not be any help to either of them. Josie and Charles kneeling down saying the Rosary in their kitchen, remembering to add three Hail Marys for St. Jarlath and a reminder that the statue campaign was going well. Dr. Hat playing chess with the boy in Boston who had something wrong with his foot and was out of school for a week. Molly in the thrift shop wondering how much to charge for a pleated linen skirt that had never been worn. Paddy Carroll bringing round, big wrapped parcels that contained juicy bones for the dogs that passed through. Aidan and Signora singing Italian songs to three children: their own grandchild, as well as Frankie and little Johnny Carroll. She thought about Muttie, wheezing happily to his dog, Hooves, or solving the world’s problems with his Associates. She thought about the decent priest Father Brian Flynn, and how he tried to hide his true feelings about the statue of a sixth-century saint being erected in a Dublin working-class street.

  There were so many images that Emily dropped off to sleep thinking about them all. And there she was in Kennedy Airport, and, after collecting her luggage and clearing customs, she could see Eric and Betsy jumping up and down with excitement. They even had a banner. In uneven writing it said WELCOME HOME, EMILY! How very odd that it didn’t seem like home anymore.

  But home or not, it was wonderful.

  Emily talked to Eric’s mother in a woman-of-the-world manner. She managed to convey the impression that Eric was very near his sell-by date and that he was very, very lucky that Betsy had been persuaded to consider him. Betsy had, apparently, written over to Ireland that there were some “obstacles” in the way of the marriage. Emily couldn’t think what they might be. She looked Eric’s mother in the eye and asked if she knew of any. Betsy’s future mother-in-law, who was just a bit of a fusspot, started to babble a bit. Emily felt the point had been made. Betsy needed huge enthusiasm and support for her big day; otherwise she might pull out at the last moment and poor Eric would be left bereft.

  Emily sorted out the shoes simply by insisting Betsy buy a pair in the correct size; she sorted out the dull dress problem by taking the very plain gray dress to an accessories store and asking everyone’s advice. Together, they chose a rose-pink-and-cream-colored stole, which transformed it.

  She went to Betsy’s brother and explained that since Betsy had waited this long to get married, it had better be a classy celebration; this way she managed to upgrade the menu considerably and arranged sparkling wine.

  And, of course, the wedding was splendid. Emily was pleased to see her friend in comfortable shoes wearing a newly adorned dress. Betsy’s brother had put on a very elegant spread, and her mother-in-law had been like charm personified.

  Betsy cried with happiness; Eric cried and said that this was the best day of his whole life; Emily cried because it was all so marvelous; and the best man cried because his own marriage was on the rocks and he envied people just starting out.

  When all the relations went home and the best man had gone to make one more ineffectual stab at repairing his own marriage, the bride and groom set off with the maid of honor for Chinatown and had a feast. There would be no honeymoon, but a holiday in Ireland would certainly be in the cards before the end of the year.

  Emily told them about some of the people they would meet. Eric and Betsy said they could hardly wait. It all sounded so intriguing. They wanted to go right out to Kennedy Airport and fly to Ireland at once.

  To: Emily

  From: Lisa

  I know we agreed only to e-mail about Frankie and there’s no crisis—I just felt like talking to you. She is very well and sleeping much better.

  Moira didn’t seem to pick up on what I had said about Frankie being a lot of work, so with any luck that’s all been forgotten.

  Frankie seems to enjoy going to Dr. Hat. He sings little sea shanties to her. He got her some jars of apple puree and spoons them into her all the time—she can’t get enough of them!

  Maud and Marco from Ennio’s restaurant are a definite number—they’ve been seen at the cinema together. Nice for Maud because things are sad in that house, but I think Simon is feeling a bit left out.

  Noel went out on a date last week. I set him up with a friend of Katie’s called Sophie, but it just didn’t take. When he told her about Frankie, she asked, “And when do you give her back to her mother?” Noel told her that Stella was dead and suddenly this girl Sophie wanted to be miles away. A man with a child! Beware! Beware!

  Poor Muttie looks awful. Declan doesn’t say anything, but I think it’s not sounding too good.

  Life is very good otherwise.

  Everything going well. Anton’s picture was in the paper today and April has blotted her copybook, I am delighted to say.

  How was the wedding?

  Love,

  Lisa

  There were a lot of questions when Emily read the e-mails to Betsy and Eric, so Emily explained who was who. Moira was considered the enemy and April was considered a love rival of Lisa’s; the twins were teenagers in the catering business; Muttie was their grandfather or uncle or guardian, no one quite knew. And Anton? The nonavailable object of Lisa’s adoration …

  From: Emily

  To: Lisa

  Thanks for the news. The wedding was fabulous—will show you pictures.

  What did April do? How did she make a mess of things?

  Love,

  Emily

  To: Emily

  From: Lisa

  April told everyone that a group of food critics were coming to Anton’s on Tuesday last, and amazingly they never turned up: someone had told them it had been canceled. Anton was SO furious with her. He and I had a dinner together in the restaurant to cheer him up.…

  Eric and Betsy, by now an established married couple, saw Emily off at the airport. They waved long after she had disappeared in the crush of people heading into Terminal 4. They would miss her, but they knew that soon she would be sitting on that Aer Lingus flight, resetting her mind and orienting herself towards Dublin again.

  It sounded like an insane place and it had certainly changed Emily. Normally so reserved and quiet, she seemed to have been entirely seduced by a cast of characters who sounded as if they should be on an old Broadway variety show.…

  Emily didn’t sleep, like so many of the other passengers did. She sat making comparisons between this journey and the one she had made across the Atlantic when coming to Ireland for the very first time. Then she had been looking for roots, trying to work out what kind of life her father had lived back then in Dublin and how it had shaped him. She had learned next to nothing about this, but had become deeply involved
in a series of dramas, ranging from helping to raise a motherless child who was living with a functioning alcoholic to working in a thrift shop trying to help her aunt to raise money to build a statue to an unknown saint who, if he had ever existed, had died back in the sixth century, to organizing a dog-walking business for her uncle.

  It seemed quite mad, and yet she felt like she was going home.

  It was early morning in Dublin when the transatlantic flights came in, and the crowds stood around the luggage carousels. Emily reached for her smart new suitcases—a gift from Eric to thank her for being maid of honor.

  As they moved out through customs, she thought it would be nice if someone had come to meet her, but then who would have been able to?

  Josie and Charles didn’t have a car. Neither did Noel or Lisa. Dingo Duggan, with his van, would have been nice, but that was hardly likely. She would get the bus as before. Except this time she would know what she was getting into.

  Just as she came out into the open air, she saw a familiar figure; Dr. Hat was standing there waving at her.

  “I thought I’d come to meet you,” he said, taking one of her cases.

  In the midst of all the crowds of people embracing each other, Emily was thrilled to see him.

  “I’m in the short-term car park,” he said proudly and led the way. He must have gotten up very early to be there in time.

  “It’s so good to see you, Hat,” she said as she settled into his small car.

  “I brought you a flask of coffee and an egg sandwich. Is that as good as America?” he asked.

  “Oh, Hat, how wonderful to be home!” Emily said.

  “We were all afraid that you would stay out there and get married yourself.” Hat seemed very relieved this was not the case.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Emily said, flattered that they had wanted her back here. “Now you can tell me all the news before I get back to St. Jarlath’s Crescent.”

  “There’s a lot of news,” Hat said.

  “We’ve a lot of time.” Emily settled happily back in his car.

  It was mixed news.

  The bad news was that Muttie had got a great deal worse. His prognosis, though not discussed or admitted in public, was no more than a few months now. Lizzie seemed to find it difficult to take this onboard and was busy planning a trip to the sunshine. She was even urging the twins to speed up their plans to go to New Jersey—somewhere that she and Muttie could come and visit.

  Simon and Maud realized that there would be no such journey; they were very down. Young Declan Carroll had been marvelous with them, giving them extra babysitting to keep their minds off things.

  Hat’s good news was that baby Frankie was going from strength to strength. Emily didn’t dare to ask, but Hat knew what she wanted to know.

  “And Noel has been a brick. Lisa has been away a bit, but he manages fine.”

  “Which means that you help him too.” Emily looked at him gratefully.

  “I love the child. She’s no trouble.” Hat negotiated the traffic.

  “Any more news?” Emily inquired.

  “Well, Molly Carroll said you wouldn’t believe how many garments she got from some madwoman.”

  “ ‘Mad’? Angry or crazy? I never know which you mean.”

  “Oh, crazed is what she was. She discovered her husband had been buying clothes for another lady and she took them all and brought them to the thrift shop!” He seemed amused.

  “But are we entitled to them? Were they the crazy lady’s to give?”

  “Apparently so. The husband was singing dumb over it all, saying that he had bought them for his wife, but they were entirely the wrong size and the wrong color! Amazing things, I heard, like black and red corsets!”

  “Heavens! I can’t wait to get back,” Emily said.

  “And you know the old lady who gave Charles the dog?”

  “Mrs. Monty, yes? Don’t tell me she took Caesar away.…”

  “No. The poor lady died—rest in peace—but didn’t she leave all her money to Charles!”

  “Did she have any money?”

  “We think, amazingly, that she did.”

  “Isn’t that wonderful!” Emily cried.

  “It is until you think how it’s going to be spent,” Dr. Hat said, drawing a halo around his head with his finger.

  Charles and Josie were waiting for her at Number 23; they were fussing over Frankie, who had a bit of a cold and was very fretful, not her usual sunny self. Emily was delighted to see her and lifted her up to examine her. Immediately, the child stopped grizzling.

  “She’s definitely grown, so much in three weeks. Isn’t she wonderful?” She gave the baby a hug and was rewarded with a very chatty babble. Emily realized how much she had missed her. This was the child none of them had expected or, to be honest, really wanted, at the start—and look at her now! She was the center of their world.

  Dr. Hat had been invited in for a cup of tea and was enjoying a game of picking up Frankie’s teddy bear in order for her to drop it again, and Molly Carroll stopped in to welcome Emily back. Noel rang from work to make sure she really had returned and hadn’t decided to relocate to New York.

  Frankie was fine, he said, a runny nose, but otherwise fine. The nurse had said she was thriving. Lisa was away again. She had missed three lectures now and it would be so hard for her to catch up. Oh, yes, he had plenty of help. There was this woman called Faith at his lectures who had five younger brothers at home and had no place to study, so she had come to help Noel three evenings a week.

  Faith was delighted with Frankie. She had a lot of experience bringing up younger brothers herself but had never been close to a little girl.

  The evening slipped into an easy routine: bath time, bottle, Frankie off to sleep, then revision papers and the Internet notes to help them study. Faith sympathized deeply with Noel having to work in a place like Hall’s: she was in a fairly dead-end office job but had great hopes that the diploma they were working for would make a difference. People in her office respected such things greatly.

  She was a cheerful and optimistic woman of twenty-nine; she had dark curly hair, green eyes, a mobile face and a wide smile and she loved walking. She showed Noel a great many places he had never known in his own city. She said she needed to walk a lot because it concentrated her mind. She had suffered a great blow: six years ago, her fiancé had been killed in a car accident just weeks before the wedding day. She had coped by walking alone and being very quiet, but recently she had felt the need to get involved with the world about her. That was one of the reasons she had joined the course at the college, and it was one of the reasons she had adapted so easily to Noel’s demanding life.

  She had bought a baby album for Frankie and put in little wisps of the child’s hair, her first baby sock and dozens of photographs.

  “Have you any pictures of Stella?” she asked Noel.

  “No—none at all.”

  Faith didn’t inquire further.

  “I could do a drawing of her, maybe,” he said after a while.

  “That would be great. Frankie will love that when she gets older.”

  Noel looked at her gratefully. She was very good company to have around the place. Perhaps later he might try to sketch her face too.

  Lisa and Anton were at a Celtic food celebration in Scotland. They were looking into the possibility of pairing with some similar-type Scottish restaurant where they could do a deal: anyone who spent over a certain sum in Anton’s could get a voucher for half this amount in the Scottish restaurant and vice versa. It would work because it was tapping into an entirely new market, mainly American.

  It was Lisa’s idea. She had special cards printed to show how it would work. The Scottish restaurant’s name was a blank at the moment until the deal was done.

  Several times Lisa felt rather than saw Anton’s glance of approval, but she knew better now than to look at him for praise. Instead, she concentrated entirely on getting the work done. There would
be time later over meals together.

  At one of the hotels they had visited the receptionist asked them if they’d like the honeymoon suite. Lisa deliberately said nothing. Anton asked, with apparent interest, if they looked like a honeymoon couple.

  “Not really, but you do look happy,” the girl said.

  Lisa decided to let Anton speak again. “Well, we are, I hope. I mean, who wouldn’t be happy in this lovely place and if there was a complimentary upgrade to the honeymoon suite, that would be the icing on the cake.” He smiled his heartbreaking smile and Lisa noticed the receptionist join the long line of women who fancied Anton.

  It was so cheering to be here with him and to know that April was out in the wilderness, not posturing and putting her small bottom in her skintight jeans on Anton’s desk or the arm of his chair. April was miles and miles away.…

  But then the trip was over and it was back to reality. Back to lectures in the college three nights a week, back to Frankie waking up all hours of the night, back to April, who was inching her way again into Anton’s life.

  Lisa noted that a lot of free events had been arranged in Anton’s, occasions that would be written up in the papers, perhaps, but that did not put paying customers in seats, which was what they needed. She worried that too much was being spent on appearance rather than reality. The bottom line was the numbers of people you got in to pay for the meals and tell their friends, who would also come in and hand over money. Not just another charity press conference with minor celebrities who would be photographed for gossip columns. This was April’s world.

  Lisa was not so sure it was right. But when Lisa was alone with Anton, she kept quiet about her misgivings. Anton hated being nagged. To tell him he was high on publicity and low on paying punters could well have been considered nagging.