by Maeve Binchy
Wherever Eddie Kennedy was to find his salvation, it must not be in Liscuan.
Moira sighed deeply and tried to remember what she would have done for this man if things had been different, if she hadn’t known for certain that his long-abandoned wife was living with her own father. Wearily she continued with fruitless questions about any possible benefits that might be due to him after a lifetime of working in England. This man had never signed on anywhere or joined any system. It would be a progression of hostels from now on.
It would have been the same if he had come across any other social worker, wouldn’t it? Maybe one of them would have made inquiries back in Liscuan. And if inquiries had been made? Perhaps Mrs. Kennedy and her father would have sung low, in which case there would have been nothing different to the way it was now.…
Yet Moira felt guilty. This man shouldn’t have his options restricted just because his social worker wanted her own father to continue undisturbed in what should have been this man’s home. Moira wished, not for the first time, that she had a friend, a soul mate whom she could discuss it with.
She remembered that meal with Lisa in Ennio’s: it had been pleasant and it was surprisingly easy to talk to Lisa. But of course the girl would think she was quite insane if she were to suggest it.
Worse—both insane and pathetic.
Muttie told Lizzie that something was worrying him.
“Tell me, Muttie.”
Lizzie had listened to Muttie for years. Listened to stories of horses that were going to win, backs that ached, beer that had been watered and, more recently, of some poor unfortunates he had met up with at the hospital. Muttie had discovered there was a desperate lot of illness about—you just didn’t come across it when you were in the whole of your health.
She wondered what she would hear now.
“I’m worried that the twins are putting off their trip to America because of my having to have those treatments.” He said it defiantly, as if waiting, hoping, for her to deny it.
If that was what he wanted, then that was what he got. Lizzie’s face split in two with a great laugh.
“Well, if that’s all that’s bothering you, Muttie Scarlet, aren’t you a lucky man? Have you eyes in your head at all? They didn’t want to go because Maud is crazy about Mario. The last thing she wants to do is to go away and let some Dublin dolly get her claws into Mario. It has nothing to do with you whatsoever!”
He was vastly relieved. “I suppose I was making myself the big man,” he said.
· · ·
Noel Lynch and Lisa Kelly were shopping for fruit and vegetables in a market where Emily had pointed them. Moira had complained that they did very little home cooking and Frankie’s diet might be lacking in all kinds of nutrients.
“She always moves the bloody goalposts,” Lisa said in fury.
“Why are home purees better than the ones we buy?” Noel said crossly. “What are all these additives she talks about? And why do the makers put them in?”
“I bet they don’t. It’s just Moira making life more difficult. Right, show me the list Emily made. Apples, bananas. No honey—that can poison her. Vegetables, but no broccoli. We have stock, and it’s low-salt and organic—I checked.”
“Have we?” Noel was surprised. “What does it look like?”
“Like a sort of toffee wrapped up. We have it, Noel. Come on, let’s pay for this lot and we’ll go home and puree it and while it’s cooking we’ll go over the notes for that lecture we both missed. Thank God for Faith!”
“Yes, indeed.”
Lisa looked at him sharply. It was obvious to everyone except Noel that Faith fancied him. Lisa didn’t feel at all drawn to Noel except as a housemate and friend, but she didn’t want the situation complicated.
In some strange, odd way Anton felt slightly more on his toes because Lisa lived with a man. It was more racy somehow. Once or twice Anton had asked if there was any frisson between the two of them. That was a very Anton type of word and he asked it casually, as if he didn’t care very much anyway.
But that was his way. He wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t cared.
Lisa was comfortable in Chestnut Court. Noel made sure she went to her lectures when she wasn’t running off with Anton at a moment’s notice. And even though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she had become amazingly fond of that little girl. Life without Frankie was going to be hard when it happened. As soon as Anton realized that commitment did not mean a life sentence, it meant the opening of doors.
· · ·
Emily Lynch was also in the vegetable market; she had promised Dr. Hat she would teach him how to make a vegetarian curry for his friend Michael, who was coming to visit.
“Could you not just … er … make it for me?” Dr. Hat begged.
“No way! I want you to be able to tell Michael how you made it.” She was very firm.
“Emily, please. Cooking is women’s business.”
“Then why are the great chefs mainly male?” she asked mildly.
“Show-offs,” said Dr. Hat mutinously. “It won’t work, Emily. I’ll burn everything.”
“Don’t be ridiculous—we’ll have a great time chopping everything up; you’ll be making this recipe every week.”
“I doubt it,” said Dr. Hat. “I seriously doubt it.”
The whole encounter with Eddie Kennedy had made Moira restless. Her own small apartment felt like a prison, with the walls enclosing her more and more. Perhaps she was a kindred soul to him and would end up beached, with no friends, being looked after by some social worker who was still at school now.
It was her birthday on Friday. It was a sad person who had nobody to celebrate with. Nobody at all. Yet again her thoughts went back to that pleasant evening at Ennio’s restaurant. She had felt normal for once.
What would Lisa say if Moira asked her to have a meal with her—except that she wasn’t free? Nothing would be lost. She would go around to Chestnut Court now.
“God Almighty, it’s Moira again!” Lisa said when she had put down the entry phone and buzzed her in.
“What can she want now?” Noel looked around the flat nervously in case there was something that could be discovered, something that would be a black mark against them. Frankie’s clothes were drying on the radiators—but that was good, wasn’t it? They were making sure that the little garments were properly aired.
He continued spooning the puree into Frankie, who enjoyed it mainly as a face-painting activity and something to rub into her hair.
Moira arrived in a gray pantsuit and sensible shoes. She looked businesslike, but then she was always businesslike.
Noel saw her properly for the first time. There was a sort of shield around her, as if it were keeping people away. She had good, clear skin. Her hair was curly in a color that suited her. It was just that it didn’t add up to much.
“Will you have a cup of tea?” he asked her wearily.
Moira had taken in the domestic scene at a glance: the child was being well cared for. Anyone could see that. They had even listened to her about getting fresh vegetables and making purees.
She saw the books and note files out for their studies. These were her so-called hopeless clients, a family at risk, not fit to be minding Frankie, and yet they seemed to have got their act together much better than Moira had.
“I had a tiring day today,” she said unexpectedly.
If the roof had blown off the apartment block, Noel and Lisa could not have been more surprised. Even Frankie looked up, startled, with her food-stained face.
Moira never complained about her workload. She was tireless in her efforts to impose some kind of order on a mad world. This was the very first time she had even given a hint that she might be human.
“What kind of things were most tiring?” Lisa asked politely.
“Frustration, mainly. I know this couple who are desperate for a baby. They would provide a great home, but can they get one? Oh, no, they can’t. People can ignore babies,
harm them, take drugs all round them, and that’s perfectly fine as long as they are kept with the natural parent. We are meant to be proud of this because we have kept the family unit intact.…”
Noel found himself involuntarily holding Frankie closer to him.
“Not you, Noel,” Moira said wearily. “You and Lisa are doing your best.”
This was astounding praise. Lisa and Noel looked at each other in shock.
“I mean it’s a hopeless situation, but at least you’re keeping to the rules,” Moira admitted grudgingly.
Noel and Lisa smiled at each other in relief.
“But the rest of it’s exhausting and I ask myself, Is it getting anyone anywhere?”
Lisa wondered whether Moira might be having a nervous breakdown.
“It must be very stressful, your job. I suppose you have to try to compensate for it in your private life,” Lisa babbled, in an attempt to restore normality.
“Yes, indeed, if all I had to think about was Hall’s, I’d be locked up by now,” Noel agreed. “If I didn’t have Frankie to come home to, I’d be a right mess.”
“I’m the same.” Lisa thought of Anton’s. “Honestly, the comings and goings, the highs and lows, the dramas. I’m glad I have another life outside it all.”
Moira listened to all this without much sign of agreement or pleasure. Then she delivered the final shock.
“It was actually about my social life that I called,” Moira said. “I’m going to be thirty-five on Friday and I was hoping, Lisa, you might join me for supper at Ennio’s.…”
“Me? Friday? Oh, heavens. Well, thank you, Moira, thank you indeed. I’m free on Friday, aren’t I, Noel?”
Was she looking at him beseechingly, begging him to find some kind of excuse? Or was she eager to go? Noel couldn’t work it out. Honesty seemed safest.
“Friday is my day on—you’re free Friday evening,” he said.
Lisa’s face showed nothing. “Well, that’s very kind of you, Moira. Will there be many people there?”
“In Ennio’s? I don’t know. I suppose there will be a fair number.”
“No, I mean to celebrate your birthday?”
“Oh, just the two of us,” Moira said, and she gathered herself up and left.
Noel and Lisa didn’t dare to speak until she had left the building.
“We should have said she didn’t look thirty-five,” Lisa said.
“What does she look?” Noel asked.
“She could be a hundred. She could be any age. Why did she ask me to dinner?”
“Maybe she fancies you,” Noel said, and then, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just making a joke.”
“Right, you can afford to make jokes. You’re not the one having dinner with her on Friday.”
“She may be going mad,” Noel said thoughtfully.
Lisa had been wondering exactly the same thing.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well …” Noel spoke slowly and deliberately. “It’s a very odd thing to do. No one normal would invite you to dinner. You of all people.”
She looked up at him and saw he was smiling.
“Yes, you’re right, Noel. The woman’s lonely and she has no friends. That’s all.”
“I was wondering …” Noel paused. “I was thinking of inviting Faith to dinner. A proper dinner, not just a bowl of soup or something on toast. You know, to thank her for the notes and everything.”
“Oh, yes?” Lisa said.
“I wonder, would Friday be a good night? You’ll probably be out late, hitting the clubs with Moira. I’d feel safer having a meal here. It’s such a temptation to order a bottle of wine or have a cocktail in a restaurant.” Noel rarely spoke of his alcoholism at home. He went to meetings and there was no drink in the flat. It was unusual for him to bring the subject up.
He must be interested in Faith after all. Lisa’s mind leapt ahead again. Suppose Faith really did move in with Noel? Where would that leave Lisa? But she mustn’t start to fuss. That was her least attractive quality. Anton had told her when they were in Scotland that she was an absolute angel when she didn’t fuss. And Noel deserved some happiness in his life.
“That’s a great idea. I’ll do a salad for you before I go out and maybe you could cook that chicken in ginger you do sometimes. It’s very impressive. And we’ll make sure to iron the tablecloth and napkins.”
“It’s only Faith. It’s not a competition,” Noel protested.
“But you want her to know you’ve gone to some trouble to entertain her, don’t you?”
Noel realized with a shock that this was the first date he had planned in years.
“And in return you have to help me think of a present for Moira. Not too dear. I’m broke!”
“Ask Emily to look out for something from the thrift shop for you. She finds great things—new things, even.”
“That’s an idea.” Lisa brightened. “Well, Frankie, social life around here is getting very lively. You’re going to be hard pushed to keep up with us.…”
Frankie stretched her arms out to Lisa.
“Mama,” she said.
“Nearly there, Frankie, but it’s Lee-Za, much posher.” But from this child, “mama” was perfectly fine.
Faith was surprised and pleased to be invited.
“Will there be many people there?” she asked nervously.
“Just the two of us,” Noel said. “Will that be all right?”
“Oh, fine!” Faith seemed very relieved. She smiled at him. “Thanks, Noel, I’m looking forward to dinner.”
“Me too,” said Noel. He wondered suddenly was she expecting that they would go to bed together. He realized he had never made love in his life while sober. He had heard some terrible stories on this topic at AA. It was apparently fraught with difficulties and had disastrous effects on performance. Many people had told his AA group that they had taken a quick shot of vodka just to see them right and were back on full-time drinking within a week.
But he would face that if and when it occurred. No point in destroying Wednesday thinking about Friday. This one-day-at-a-time thing really worked.
Friday eventually came.
Emily had found a small mother-of-pearl brooch as a gift for Lisa to give Moira. She even produced a little box and some black velvet. Moira couldn’t help but like that.
Anton had laughed when Lisa had said she was going to Ennio’s with Moira.
“That should be a bundle of fun,” he had said dismissively.
“It will be fine,” she said, suddenly feeling defensive.
“If you want cheapo pasta, a bottle of plonk and a couple of Italians bunching up their fingers to kiss them and say ‘bella signora’ …”
“They’re nice there.” Why she was being protective towards this little trattoria, she didn’t know.
“Yeah and we’re nice in Anton’s too, so why didn’t you and the social worker choose us?”
“Be real, Anton. A Friday night! And anyway, it was her shout. She chose Ennio’s.”
He looked like a small boy who had been crossed. “I’d have given you early-bird rates all night.”
“I know that, she didn’t. See you.”
“Are you coming round later? It’s Teddy’s birthday too and we’re having a few drinks after closing time.”
“Oh, no, we’ll be hitting the clubs by then.” She remembered Noel’s expression. It was worth it to see the look of surprise and irritation on Anton’s face.
· · ·
Noel set the table at Chestnut Court. Lisa had left the salad in the fridge covered in cling wrap and his chicken-and-ginger dish was under foil and ready to put in the oven for twenty-five minutes. The potatoes were in a saucepan.
Frankie had been delivered to Declan and Fiona’s: she was going to have a sleepover.
“Dada,” she said as he waved her good-bye, and his heart turned over as it always did when she smiled at him. Now he was in the apartment waiting for a woman to come to supper, like someone n
ormal would do.
Lisa had looked very well as she set out to the birthday celebration. It was so comforting to know that Anton was jealous, that he really thought she would go to a nightclub.
At Ennio’s the host was waiting for them.
“Che belle signore!” he said, giving them each a small bunch of violets. Exactly as Anton had said he would. “Marco, vieni qui, una tavola per queste due bellissime signore.”
The son of the house bustled towards them and dusted chairs. Moira and Lisa thanked him profusely.
Lisa spotted that Maud was working there that night, and Marco saw Lisa recognize her.
“I think you know my friend and colleague Maud,” he said proudly.
“Yes, indeed I do. Lovely girl,” Lisa said. “And this is Moira Tierney, who chose the restaurant for her birthday celebration.”
“Moira Tierney …,” Marco repeated the words fearfully. “Maud has mentioned your name to me.” Written all over his face was the fact that the mention had perhaps not been the most cordial, but he struggled to remember his job of welcoming guests and handed them the menus.
They began choosing their food. If Moira said once that the markup on the food was enormous, she must have said it a dozen times.
“Imagine charging that for garlic bread!” she gasped, as if astonished.
“We don’t have to have garlic bread,” Lisa said.
“No, no, we’ll have everything we want. It’s a celebration,” Moira said in a sepulchral voice.
“Indeed it is.” Lisa was bright and positive. This looked like it would be a long night.
Emily went to Dr. Hat’s house to check that he had his curry ready for his friend Michael. She wanted to show him that he should have a dish of sliced bananas and a little bowl of coconut as well.
To her surprise the table was set for three.
“Will his wife be with him?” Emily asked, surprised. Only Michael had been mentioned up to now.
“No, Michael never married. Another crusty old bachelor,” Dr. Hat said.
“So who is the third person?”
“I was rather hoping that you would join us,” he said hesitantly.
