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Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [0]

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ALSO BY MAEVE BINCHY

Fiction

Light a Penny Candle

Echoes

London Transports

The Lilac Bus

Firefly Summer

Silver Wedding

Circle of Friends

The Copper Beech

The Glass Lake

This Year It Will Be Different

Evening Class

The Return Journey

Tara Road

Scarlet Feather

Quentins

Nights of Rain and Stars

Whitethorn Woods

Heart and Soul

Nonfiction

Aches & Pains

The Maeve Binchy Writers’ Club

THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK

PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

Copyright © 2010 by Maeve Binchy

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

www.aaknopf.com

Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

Originally published in Great Britain by Orion Books, an imprint of the Orion Publishing Group Ltd., a Hachette UK company, London, in 2010.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Binchy, Maeve.

Minding Frankie / by Maeve Binchy.—1st U.S. ed.

p. cm.

eISBN: 978-0-307-59516-4

1. Recovering alcoholics—Fiction. 2. Child rearing—Fiction. 3. Fatherhood—Fiction. 4. Families—Fiction. 5. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 6. Community life—Ireland—Fiction. 7. City and town life—Ireland—Fiction. 8. Domestic fiction. I. Title.

PR6052.I7728M56 2011

823′.914—dc22 2010035999

Jacket art by William Low

Jacket design by Carol Devine Carson

v3.1

For dear generous Gordon,

who makes life great every single day

Contents

Cover

Also by Maeve Binchy

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Acknowledgments

A Note About the Author

Chapter One

Katie Finglas was coming to the end of a tiring day in the salon. Anything bad that could happen had happened. A woman had not told them about an allergy and had come out with lumps and a rash on her forehead. A bride’s mother had thrown a tantrum and said that she looked like a laughingstock. A man who had wanted streaks of blond in his hair became apoplectic when, halfway through the process, he had inquired what they would cost. Katie’s husband, Garry, had placed both his hands innocently on the shoulders of a sixty-year-old female client, who had then told him that she was going to sue him for sexual harassment and assault.

Katie looked now at the man standing opposite her, a big priest with sandy hair mixed with gray.

“You’re Katie Finglas and I gather you run this establishment,” the priest said, looking around the innocent salon nervously as if it were a high-class brothel.

“That’s right, Father,” Katie said with a sigh. What could be happening now?

“It’s just that I was talking to some of the girls who work here, down at the center on the quays, you know, and they were telling me …”

Katie felt very tired. She employed a couple of high school dropouts: she paid them properly, trained them. What could they have been complaining about to a priest?

“Yes, Father, what exactly is the problem?” she asked.

“Well, it is a bit of a problem. I thought I should come to you directly, as it were.” He seemed a little awkward.

“Very right, Father,” Katie said. “So tell me what it is.”

“It’s this woman, Stella Dixon. She’s in hospital, you see …”

“Hospital?” Katie’s head reeled. What could this involve? Someone who had inhaled the peroxide?

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She tried for a level voice.

“Yes, but she wants a hairdo.”

“You mean she trusts us again?” Sometimes life was extraordinary.

“No, I don’t think she was ever here before.…” He looked bewildered.

“And your interest in all this, Father?”

“I am Brian Flynn and I am acting chaplain at St. Brigid’s Hospital at the moment, while the real chaplain is in Rome on a pilgrimage. Apart from being asked to bring in cigarettes and drink for the patients, this is the only serious request I’ve had.”

“You want me to go and do someone’s hair in hospital?”

“She’s seriously ill. She’s dying. I thought

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