Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [160]
Something stopped him, though, perhaps some sense of playing fair. Although, of course, that was nonsense. Stella certainly hadn’t played fair. Still, if he hadn’t opened it back then, he would not do it now.
What had Stella got from it all, anyway? A short, restless life, a lot of pain and fear, no family, no friends. She never got to see her baby or know the little arms around her neck. Noel had got all this and more. A year ago, what did Noel have going for him? Not much. A drunk in a dead-end job, without friends, without hope. It had all changed because of Frankie. How lonely and frightened Stella must have felt that last night.
He reached out and read the letter she had written to him in that ward. “Tell Frankie that I wasn’t all bad …” she had said. “Tell her that if things had been different you and I would both have been there to look after her …”
Noel straightened his shoulders.
He was Frankie’s father in every way that mattered. Perhaps Stella had made a genuine mistake? Who knew what happened in other people’s lives? And suppose somehow Stella was looking out for Frankie from somewhere—she deserved to know better than that the baby had been abandoned at the age of twelve months. Noel had loved this child yesterday, he still loved her today. He would always love her. It was as simple as that.
He reached across the table and put the two letters from Stella into the drawer. The letter with the DNA results he tore into tiny pieces.
It was a fine day for the turning of the sod. Charles and Josie put their hands together on the shovel and dug into the ground of the small waste patch they had secured for the new garden. Everyone clapped and Father Flynn said his customary few words about the great results that came from a sense of community involvement and caring.
Some of Muttie’s Associates had come to watch the ceremony, and one of them was heard to say he would much prefer a statue of Muttie and Hooves to be raised instead of some long-dead saint whom nobody knew anything about.
Lizzie was there, with her arm around Simon’s shoulders. He was going to New Jersey next week but had promised to be back in three months to tell them all what it was like. Marco and Maud stood together; Marco had hopes of a spring wedding but Maud said she was in no hurry to marry.
“Your grandfather gave me his blessing to marry you,” Marco whispered.
“Yes, but he didn’t say in the blessing when you were to marry me,” Maud said firmly.
Declan, Johnny and a visibly pregnant Fiona were there, with Declan’s parents and Dimples, the big dog. Dimples had a love-hate relationship with Caesar, the tiny spaniel. It wasn’t that he had anything against Caesar—it was just that he was too small to be a proper dog.
Emily and Hat were there, part of the scenery now. People hardly remembered a time when they were not together. Emily was noting everything to tell Betsy that night by e-mail. She would even send her a picture of it all. Betsy too had fallen under the spell of this little community and was always asking for details of this and that. She and Eric had every intention of coming back again next year and catching up where they had left off.
Emily thought back to the first day that she herself had arrived in this street and heard her uncle and aunt’s plans to build a huge statue. How amazing that it had all turned out so differently and so well.
Noel, Faith and Frankie were there, Frankie showing everyone her new pink boots. People pointed out to Noel that one of the houses in the Crescent would shortly be for sale—maybe he and Faith could buy it. Then Frankie would be near her garden. It was a very tempting idea, they said.
And as they wound their way back to Emily and Hat’s house, where tea and cakes were being served,