Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [19]
Stella had said that she didn’t normally have a lot to say for the clergy, but Brian Flynn was a very decent fellow and didn’t go on about sin and redemption and things. He did what a priest should do—he brought her cigarettes and did little jobs for people.
Katie called out to him and was delighted when he suggested they go for a coffee in a small Italian place on the corner.
Father Flynn spoke briefly and testily about his friend the priest who had fallen down the Spanish Steps and was still malingering in Rome. He also spoke about his greedy landlord, who had evicted him, and how it was impossible for a man of simple lifestyle, like himself, to discover any kind of budget accommodation.
“I’m such an undemanding person, really,” Brian Flynn said, full of self-pity. “If people only knew how little I want in terms of style or comfort.”
Katie looked at him thoughtfully across her cappuccino. “Exactly how undemanding?” she asked. She suddenly saw a solution to everything.
Father Flynn would be the perfect tenant.
“Finish up your coffee there and come with me,” she said, draining her cup and heading back to the salon that she had just locked up.
By the end of the month, he had moved into his new home. His friend Johnny had put up a few bookshelves for him and Katie’s husband had found him a secondhand fridge where he could keep his milk, butter and the odd can of beer. His only duty was to make sure that he locked the salon properly and put on the burglar alarm whenever he left the premises after hours. It suited everyone perfectly.
Chapter Three
Noel couldn’t believe that Emily, who had recently been part of his every waking moment at St. Jarlath’s Crescent, now seemed to have disappeared completely.
“Where is she?” he asked his mother on the morning after Emily had left his room in scorn and disgust. “It’s not like Emily to miss breakfast.”
“Oh, she’s gone to find a premises for the charity shop,” Josie Lynch replied, confident that Emily would have one before the day was out. There was nothing that woman couldn’t do.
“She took Caesar with her. She’s going to make inquiries for me about dog-walking opportunities as well.” Charles was pleased too. “She said she’d have more credibility if she was accompanied by a dog herself when she went looking for business.”
“She’ll be back after lunch, Noel, if you wanted her for anything,” Josie said. “She’s going to the market for our supper later. What did we do before she came to stay?”
Noel hadn’t known Emily to be out of the house for two meals in one day. Not since she had arrived. There was only one explanation. She was avoiding him.
He did try to stay off drink when he was at work, but the sharp pain of Stella’s situation and Emily’s shocked revulsion kept coming back to him as the day crawled along. When it came to midafternoon he could bear it no more and made an excuse to go out and get some more stationery supplies. He bought a half-bottle of vodka and decanted it into a bottle that already had a fizzy orange drink in it. As he drank mug after mug of it he felt the strength coming back to him and the pain receding. The familiar blur came down like a thick, comforting shawl.
Noel now felt able to face the afternoon again; but what didn’t go away was the feeling that he was a loser who had let down three people: the dying Stella, his strong cousin Emily and an unborn child called Frankie, who could not possibly be his daughter.
But he should have handled it very differently.
Emily was in the Laundromat with Molly Carroll. She had brought towels for a service wash but actually she was there on a mission. On a previous visit she had noticed two large sheds that were not in use. They might form the basis of the new thrift shop that would help raise money for the statue. She had to take it one step at a time: find out who actually owned the premises first.
It had turned out to be much simpler than she had feared. Molly and Paddy Carroll had bought the sheds some years back when the owner had had some pressing gambling debts and was