Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [123]
She wasn’t.
Could somebody have been watching the house? It seemed less than possible and there was no sign of a break-in. There must be a rational explanation. Should the police be called?
Having left Faith in the flat to answer any calls and white-faced with anxiety, Noel ran in and out of all the houses in St. Jarlath’s Crescent. Had anyone seen anything? Anything at all?
He had sent Lisa a text and asked her to call him from the ladies’, out of Moira’s earshot. Lisa was shocked at how frightened she felt when he told her the news. For the time being, she was not to come home. It didn’t matter where she went, as long as she kept Moira occupied. She felt sure that Moira must be able to tell something was wrong; nailing a smile onto her face, she went back to the table.
Up at the hospital, Lizzie wandered up and down the corridors asking plaintively when she was going to be able to see how Muttie was getting on. Fiona persuaded her to come back into the waiting room and sit down. They would wait for Declan to come.
He arrived twenty minutes later. “Well, he’s stable now but they’re going to keep him in for a while.” His voice was grim. “They’ve made him comfortable and he’s sleeping,” he said to Lizzie. “You’ll probably not be able to speak to him until tomorrow but he should feel better after a good night’s rest. We should all go home.”
Lizzie was pleased with the news. “I’m glad he’s getting a good rest. I’ll leave his suitcase in for him for tomorrow.”
“Do that, Lizzie,” Fiona said, realizing that there was something Declan hadn’t told her. Could this night get any worse?
It was a time of frantic comings and goings. Michael stayed with Johnny as Hat and Emily went through the whole thing over and over. At least a hundred times Emily must have said that she should never have gone along with the silly phrase “baby patrol.” She should have asked what it meant and how many babies were involved.
Hat, in her defense, said that it was all Fiona’s fault. Imagine having two babies in different rooms and not mentioning it! It was unheard-of.
Noel was almost out of his mind with grief and worry and rage—what were those idiotic women doing, risking his daughter’s safety like that? How could they be so stupid as to abandon her in that house, leaving her prey to—who knew what? And as for him, it was all his own fault. Stella had trusted him with their daughter and he’d let her down, all because he’d wanted to spend some time with a woman. Now some monster, some pervert, had taken his little girl, and he might never see her again. He might never hold her in his arms and see her smile. He might never hear her voice calling him “Dada.” If anyone had hurt her, if anyone had touched a hair of his Frankie’s head … And in the middle of St. Jarlath’s Crescent, Noel knelt down on the pavement and wept for his little girl.
Lisa managed to escape Moira on two occasions by going back to the ladies’ room, but she couldn’t go on doing this all night. She decided to persuade Moira to go to Teddy’s birthday party at Anton’s.
“But I won’t know anyone,” Moira had wailed.
“Neither will I. Most of them will be strangers to me, friends of silly April, but come on, Moira, it’s free drink and it’s your birthday too. Why not?” And as Moira agreed, Lisa dragged herself together. She wished that she was at home with Noel helping to coordinate the search. There must be an explanation. Lisa had heard very little except a trembling hysteria from Noel about what could have happened.
“Noel, don’t hate me for saying this, but in the name of God, don’t go back on the drink.”
“No, Lisa, I won’t.” His voice was clipped.
“I know you’re cross with me, but I had to say it.”
“Yes, I realize you did.”
“Go back to where we were before I said it. She’s fine. There’s been a misunderstanding. It will be sorted.”