Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [158]
“Don’t I know it all—your father’s moved into the house, and now he’s going to marry Maureen. And why shouldn’t they?”
“Because you are still her husband,” Moira stammered.
“They think I’m dead, and I am as far as they are concerned.”
“You’ve known all the time?” Moira was astounded.
“I knew you at once. I remember you well from back home—you haven’t changed a bit. Tough, able to take things. You didn’t have a great childhood.”
This man, ending his days in a hostel, pitied her. Moira felt weak at the way the earth had tilted.
“You’re very good to tell me, but honestly we should just leave things the way they are—that way there’s the least damage.”
“But …”
“But nothing. Leave it happen, let them get married. Don’t mention me.”
“How did you know?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“I did have a friend I stayed in touch with—he kept me posted.”
“And is he there in Liscuan now, your friend?”
“No, he’s dead, Moira. Only you and I know now.”
Secrets were a great equalizer, Moira thought. He wasn’t calling her Miss Tierney now.
Linda told her mother that Moira was as good as her word. She had made appointments here and introductions there, and the process was now under way. Nick and Linda said they would have been lost in a fog without her. She seemed to find no obstacles in her way. A perfect quality in a social worker.
“I can’t understand why none of you like her,” Linda said. “I’ve never met anyone as helpful in my life.”
“She’s fine at her work,” Clara agreed. “But, God, I wouldn’t like to go on a holiday with her. She manages to insult and upset everyone in some way.”
Frank agreed with her. “She’s a woman who never smiles,” he said disapprovingly. “That’s a character flaw in a person.”
“She had the strength of character to refuse to be your spy when she came to the clinic,” Clara said cheerfully. “That’s another point in her favor.”
“I think she must have misread the situation there.…” Frank didn’t want to bring disharmony into their home.
· · ·
It was nine o clock in the evening when Noel and Malachy turned up at Emily and Hat’s house to collect Frankie.
Noel was pale but calm. Malachy looked very tired.
“I’m going to spend the night in Chestnut Court,” Malachy said to Emily.
“That’s great. Lisa’s taken her things so it might be a bit lonely there otherwise,” Emily said neutrally.
Frankie, who had been fast asleep, woke up and was delighted to be the center of attention.
“Dada!” she said to Noel.
“That’s right,” he said mechanically.
“I’ve been explaining to Frankie that her granny and granda are going to build a lovely, safe garden where she and all her friends can play.”
“Great,” said Malachy.
“Yes,” said Noel.
“Your parents are going to have a sod-turning ceremony for the children’s garden on Saturday. The work is going to start then.”
“Sure,” Noel said.
Wearily, Malachy got them on the road. Frankie was chattering away from her stroller. Words that were recognizable but not making any sense.
Noel was silent. He was there in body but not in spirit; surely people were able to guess something was different, something had changed. Frankie was just the same child she had been this morning but everything else had changed, and he hadn’t yet had time to get accustomed to the idea.
Malachy slept on the sofa. During the night he heard Frankie start to cry and Noel get up to soothe the little girl and comfort her. The moonlight fell on Noel’s face as he sat and held the child; Malachy could see there were tears on his cheeks.
Moira took the train to Liscuan. She was met at the station by Pat and Erin.
“Who’s minding the store?” she asked.
“Plenty of help, good neighbors, all delighted that we’re going to your father’s wedding.” Erin was dressed to the nines with a rose-and-cream-colored outfit, a big pink rose in her hair. Moira felt dowdy in her best suit. She looked at Erin’s dainty, girlish handbag and wished she had not brought her own serious-looking briefcase. Still, too late to change now. They would need to hurry to be in time for the ceremony.
There