Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [152]
“Moira!” was all he could say.
“I hear that you’re getting married again.…” Moira came straight to the point.
“Yes, we hope to. Are you pleased for us?”
“Very, and is everyone okay with you getting married, what with …” She paused delicately.
“He’s presumed dead,” her father said in sepulchral way. “The state gives a declaration of death after seven years and he’s been gone years longer than that.”
“And … um … the Church?” Moira said.
“Oh, endless conversations with the parish priest, then they went to the archdiocese, but there’s a thing called presumptio mortis and each case is argued on its merits, and since this boyo hasn’t had an address or a record of any sort, there isn’t any problem.”
“And were you going to invite me?” It felt like probing a sore tooth. She hoped her father would say it was very small and, considering their age and circumstances, they had restricted the numbers.
“Oh, indeed. I’d be delighted if you were there. We both would be delighted.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Not at all. I’m glad you’ll be there.” He hung up without giving her the date, time or place but, after all, she could get those from her brother.
Frankie’s birthday party was a triumph.
Frankie had a crown and so did Johnny, since it was his birthday too. Apart from the two birthday babies there were very few children coming to the party, but lots of grown-ups. Lizzie was helping with the jellies and Molly Carroll was in charge of the cocktail sausages. Frankie and Johnny were much too young to appreciate Mr. Gallagher’s magic tricks but the grown-ups loved him and there were great sighs of amazement as he produced rabbits, colored scarves and gold coins from the air. The children loved the rabbits and searched fruitlessly in the magician’s top hat to know where they had gone. Josie suggested a rabbit hutch in the new garden, and the idea was received with great enthusiasm.
Noel was glad the party went well. There were no tantrums among the children, no one was overtired. He had even arranged for wine and beer to be served to the adults. It hadn’t bothered him in the least. Faith and Lisa cleared up and quietly put the unfinished bottles in Faith’s bag.
But Noel’s heart was heavy. Two chance remarks at the party had upset him more than he would have believed possible.
Dingo Duggan, who always said the wrong thing, commented that Frankie was far too good-looking to be a child of Noel’s. Noel managed to smile and said that nature had a strange way in compensating for flaws.
Paddy Carroll said that Frankie was a beautiful child. She had very fine cheekbones and huge dark eyes.
“She’s like her mother, then,” Noel said, but his mind was far away. Stella had a vibrant, lively face, yes, but she didn’t have fine cheekbones and huge dark eyes.
Neither did Noel.
Was it possible that Frankie was the child of someone else?
He sat very quietly when everyone had gone; eventually, Faith sat down beside him.
“Was it a strain having alcohol in the house, Noel?” Faith asked.
“No, I never thought about it. Why?”
“It’s just you seem a bit down.” She was sympathetic, and so he told her. He repeated the words that Moira had said: that he was naïve to believe he was Frankie’s father.
Faith listened with tears in her eyes.
“I never heard anything so ridiculous. She’s a sour, sad, bitter woman. You’re never going to start giving any credence to anything she would say?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible.”
“No, it’s not possible! Why would she have chosen you unless you were the father?” Faith was outraged on his behalf.
“Stella more or less said that at the time,” he said.
“Put it out of your head, Noel. You are the best father in the world and that Moira can’t bring herself to accept this. That’s all there is to it.”
Noel smiled wanly.
“Here, I’ll make us a mug of tea and we’ll eat the leftovers,” she said.
Moira went to visit Mr. Kennedy in the hostel to make sure he was getting all his entitlements. He had settled in well.
“Did you ever think of going back home to where you were from originally?