Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [127]
She left abruptly. Lisa let out a deep breath.
“I didn’t tell her,” she said.
“I know you didn’t,” Noel said.
“You did a great job,” Faith said soothingly.
“Good. Glad it’s sorted,” Lisa said, her voice slurring. She began to slide off the chair, but they caught her before she reached the ground.
“When I think,” she said intensely, “when I remember what I said to you, Noel, that it would be terrible if you were to fall into drink … and then I went and did it myself …”
“It doesn’t matter, Lisa. You’ll be fine tomorrow,” Noel said. “And you did great work keeping Moira distracted. You did brilliantly.”
“Why don’t we give Lisa a hand to get into bed?” Faith made it all sound as if it had been a completely normal evening, what everyone did every night all over the place.…
When she got home, Lizzie was surprised to see so many people in her house. Her sister Geraldine was there, her daughter Cathy and Cathy’s husband, Tom Feather. The twins and Marco were there, and there were constant phone calls coming in from Chicago and Australia. Everyone seemed to be making tea and Marco had provided a tray of cakes.
“Won’t Muttie be disappointed to have missed all this,” Lizzie said, and people looked away before she could see the pain in their faces.
Eventually they persuaded her to go to bed. The sitting room was still full of people. Cathy went upstairs with her mother and tried to reassure her.
“They’re terrific in St. Brigid’s, Mam—don’t be worrying about him. Geraldine’s just been saying how good they are. All the best consultants and everything. They’ll have Da right in no time.”
“I think he’s very sick,” Lizzie said.
“But he’s in the right place,” Cathy said for the twentieth time.
“He’d prefer to be in his own home,” Lizzie said for the thirtieth time.
“And he will be, Mam, so you’re to get to sleep so that you’ll be up and ready for him when he does come home. You’re asleep on your feet.”
That worked. Lizzie made a slight movement towards the bed and Cathy had her nightdress ready. Her mother looked so small and frail; Cathy wondered would she be able to bear all that lay ahead.
Maud said that Marco had texted to say that he and Dingo Duggan would be available night and day with Dingo’s van if anyone needed to be driven anywhere.
Marco had said, “I am so sorry about your grandfather. Please God, he will get better.”
“Please God, indeed,” Simon said, when Maud read him the text message.
“I think he just says that automatically.”
“Like Lizzie says ‘DV,’ ” Simon agreed.
“Yes. I remember Mother used to say that too, except that she started to say ‘VD’ instead,” Maud said. “Dad would explain it over and over. DV meant Deo volente, God willing, but Mother always nodded and said ‘VD.’ ” Simon and Maud talked very little about the parents who had abandoned them when they were young. This was their home. Muttie was the man they loved, rather than the elegant father who had gone away on his travels. Lizzie was the mother they never really had. Their own mother had always been frail, with a light grip on reality. If they had heard that either of their biological parents had died, there would be a minor sense of regret. The news about Muttie was as if somebody had stuck a knife right into their bodies.
· · ·
Nurse Ita O’Meara looked down at the man in the bed. He was in very poor shape. All she could do for him was to keep him under observation and make him comfortable.
“What’s your name?” he asked her.
“I’m Ita, Mr. Scarlet.”
“Then I’m Muttie,” he said.
“Well, Muttie, what can I do for you? A cup of tea?”
“Yes, I’d love some tea. Could you sit down and talk to me for a bit?”