Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [114]
“Oh, nice biscuits,” he said, with a look of utter disapproval.
“Paid for by ourselves, Frank,” Clara said cheerfully. “Every week someone gets to choose the biscuits and pay for them. Lord forbid that the whole of St. Brigid’s would have to come to a halt because the heart clinic charged the central fund for biscuits. Do have another while you’re here.…”
Moira came in just then.
“You bring a touch of class to this place,” Frank Ennis said.
Barbara took offense. “She doesn’t have to wear a uniform,” she whispered to her friend Fiona, nodding her head at Moira. To her bewilderment, Fiona didn’t seem to agree.
“That’s a beautiful blouse, Moira.” Fiona played her part perfectly.
Clara was looking at it too.
“You have a great eye for clothes, Moira. That’s top-class silk.”
In a million years Moira would never tell them where she’d bought it. She murmured a bit, refused tea and biscuits and went straight to her room. She had three new patients to see today.
The first man came into her small room. He was large, with a lined face and shaggy hair, and was fairly wordless. Moira flashed him one of her very brief smiles and took out a piece of paper.
“Well, now, Mr.… er … Kennedy. Your address first, please.”
“St. Patrick’s Hostel.”
“Yes, I see you’ve been there since you left hospital. And before that …?”
“In England.”
“Addresses?”
“Ah, well, I was here and there, you know …”
Moira did know. Only too well. Irishmen who had lost years of their lives working on the buildings, using a different name every month, paying no tax, having no insurance, no record of years spent and wages passed over in cash in a pub of a Friday evening.
“Before that, then,” she said wearily. One way or another, she needed some kind of paperwork for this man.
“Oh, long ago I lived in Liscuan,” he said.
She looked up sharply. She had thought he looked somehow familiar.
It was Maureen Kennedy’s long-gone husband. She was planning the future of the man whose wife now lived with her father.
Noel came back from Hall’s tired.
He let himself in to Chestnut Court and found Lisa asleep at the kitchen table with his college notes all around her. He had been hoping that she might have made supper and even gone down to the Carrolls’ to collect Frankie.
But what the hell, she was probably worn out after her time in Scotland and was sorry to be home. He would go to collect Frankie. He might even bring home fish and chips. Thank God there were no lectures tonight. He might even drop in to see Muttie. Poor guy was looking desperate these days.…
Muttie welcomed him with a big smile. It made his skull-like face look worse than ever.
“Lizzie, it’s Noel. Have you a slice of cake for the lad?”
“No, thanks, Muttie. I’m collecting Frankie from Molly and Paddy. I only came to say hello. I have to get her home and put to bed.”
Maud and Simon were there, blond heads bent over a computer.
“We’ve put Skype on for Muttie,” Maud said proudly.
“So he can talk to people face-to-face,” added Simon, equally pleased.
“Well, when the two of you get settled in New Jersey, I can talk to you every week!” Muttie was bright and cheerful about it.
“Yeah, but we’re not going to New Jersey,” Maud said.
“Too much to keep us here,” Simon added darkly.
“The cookery demonstration in Ennio’s restaurant was brilliant today,” Maud said.
“He’s a very nice lad, that Marco. You’d walk many a mile before you’d meet as nice a fellow,” Muttie said. “Hurry up now, Simon, and find yourself a girl before it’s too late for us all.”
They looked at him sharply, but he didn’t mean anything sinister.
“It’s too early to settle down,” Simon said carelessly.
“Who said anything about settling down?” Maud asked.
There was a knock on the door. It was a young man with black curly hair who came in carrying a huge saucepan of something bubbling in a tomato sauce.
“This is for the grandfather of lovely Maud,” he said.
“Well, thank you, Marco,” Muttie said, pleased.