Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [135]
And as Brian Flynn left the house, he wondered had any other priest of God delivered such a banal and bland description of the faith to a dying man.
· · ·
Lisa Kelly came to call again. The family weren’t sure Muttie was up to seeing her.
“I have a secret I want to tell him,” she said.
“Go in then with your secret—but only ten minutes,” Lizzie said.
Lisa put on her biggest smile.
“I have five hundred euro for you, Muttie. Not the Villain won by three lengths.”
“Lower your voice, Lisa. I don’t want any of them knowing I’m gambling,” he said.
“No, I told them I had a secret to discuss with you.”
“They’ll think we are having an affair,” Muttie said, “but Lizzie would prefer that than the gambling.”
“So where will I put the money, Muttie?”
“Back in your handbag. It was only the thrill of winning I wanted.”
“But, Muttie, I can’t take five hundred euro. I was hoping for an enabler’s fee of about fifty, that’s all.”
“Spend it well, child,” Muttie said, and then his head drooped back on the pillow and Lisa tiptoed out of the room.
Immediately, Maud went in to see him.
Muttie opened his eyes. “Do you love this Marco, Maud?” he asked.
“Very much. I know I haven’t had a series of people to compare him to, like you should.”
“Says who?” Muttie asked.
“Says everyone, but I don’t care. I’ll never meet anyone better than Marco. They couldn’t exist.”
He put out his hand and held hers. “Then hold on to him, Maud, and find a nice girl for Simon too. Maybe at the wedding.”
Maud held the thin hand and sat with him as he fell asleep. Tears came to her eyes and trickled down, but she didn’t raise a hand to brush them away. Sleep was good. Sleep was painless. Maud wanted Muttie to have as much of this as he could get.
· · ·
Muttie’s children knew it would be today or tomorrow. They kept their voices low as they moved around the house. They reminded one another of days in their childhood when Muttie and Lizzie had made a picnic with jam sandwiches and taken them on a train to the sea in Bray.
They remembered the time of a small win, which Muttie had spent on two roast chickens and plates full of chips. And how they had always been dressed up for First Communion and Confirmation like the other children, though this might have meant a lot of visiting the pawnshop. Muttie at weddings; the dog, Hooves; Muttie carrying the shopping for Lizzie.
They had to share all these thoughts when they were out of Lizzie’s hearing. Lizzie still thought he was getting better.
Ita, the nurse, came that day with an herbal pillow for Muttie. She looked at him and he didn’t recognize her.
“He’ll go into a coma shortly,” she said gently to Maud. “You might ask Dr. Carroll to look in, and the care nurses will do all that has to be done.”
For the first time it hit Maud really hard. She cried on Simon’s shoulder. Soon there would be no more Muttie, and her last conversation with him had been about Marco.
She remembered what Muttie had said when their beloved Hooves had died: “We all have to be strong in honor of Hooves. He wasn’t the kind of spirit that people go bawling and crying about. In his honor, be strong.”
And they were strong as they buried Hooves.
They would be strong for Muttie as well.
“It’s going to be hardest knowing that he doesn’t exist anymore,” Simon said.
Brian Flynn was having a cup of tea with them. “There is a thought that if we remember someone, then we keep them alive,” he said.
There was a silence. He wished he hadn’t spoken.
But they were all nodding their heads.
If keeping people in your memory meant that they still lived, then Muttie would live forever.
Lizzie said she was going to go in and sit with him.
“He’s in a very deep sleep, Mam,” Cathy said.
“I know. It’s a coma. The nurses said it would happen.”
“Mam, it’s just …”
“Cathy, I know it’s the end. I know it’s tonight. I just want to be alone with him for a little bit.”
Cathy looked at her, openmouthed.
“I knew for ages, but I just didn’t let myself believe it until today, so look at all the happy days I had when the rest of you were worrying yourselves