Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [51]
“Has Lisa been talking to you?” he began.
“No, I haven’t seen her. Why?”
“She will,” he said.
“Will what?”
“Will talk to you. There was an incident last night. I didn’t realize she was at home and I had a young woman with me.”
“How lovely.” His wife’s scorn was written all over her face.
“She seemed upset.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“She doesn’t have your sense of detachment—that’s why.”
“She hasn’t gone for good. I see her door is open. She’s left all her things here.” Lisa’s mother spoke as if she were talking about a casual acquaintance.
“Of course she hasn’t gone for good. Where would she go?”
Lisa’s mother shrugged her shoulders again. “She’ll end up doing what she wants to do. Like everyone …,” she said and walked out the door that her husband had just come in.
· · ·
“Where will we take your things?” Dingo asked Lisa.
“We’re just going to leave them in the van, if that’s all right?” Lisa said. She was feeling slightly dizzy from the many encounters that the morning had brought.
“Where are you going to live?” Dingo persisted.
“It hasn’t been decided yet.” Lisa knew that she sounded as if she were avoiding his questions, but she was actually telling the truth.
“So where do you plan to lay your head tonight, then?” Dingo was determined to get all the answers.
Lisa felt very weary indeed. “Why do they call you Dingo?” she asked in despair.
“Because I spent seven weeks in Australia,” he said proudly.
“And why did you come back?” She must keep the conversation going about him and avoid cosmic questions about herself.
“Because I got lonely,” Dingo said, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “You will too, mark my words. When you’re living with Josie and Charles and saying ten Rosaries a day, you’ll look back on your own home and there’ll be an ache in you.”
“Living with Charles and Josie Lynch? No, that was never on the cards,” Lisa said, horrified.
“Well, where am I to bring you when we’ve collected your things? Oh, look, here’s your house.”
“I’ll be ten minutes, Dingo.” She got out of the van.
“Emily said I was to go in with you and carry out your things.”
“Does she think she runs the whole world?” Lisa grumbled.
“There’s others who’d make a worse job of it,” Dingo said cheerfully.
It didn’t take Dingo long to pack the van. He already had a dress rail installed in there, so he just hung up Lisa’s clothes on that. He had cardboard boxes in which he expertly packed her computer and files, and more boxes for her personal possessions. It wasn’t much to show after a lifetime, Lisa thought.
The house was quiet, but she knew her father was at home. She had seen the curtain of his room shift slightly. He made no move to come out to stop her. No attempt to explain what she had seen last night. In a way she was relieved, yet it did show how little he cared about whether she stayed or left.
As she and Dingo got into the van, she saw the curtains move again. However much of a failure her own life had been, it was nothing compared to his and her mother’s.
She wrote a note and left it on the hall table.
I am leaving the house key. You will realise now that I have left permanently. I wish you both well and certainly I wish you more happiness than you have now. I have not discussed my plans with Katie. I will wait until I am settled, then I will let you have a forwarding address.
Lisa
No love, no thanks, no explanation, no good-byes. She looked around the house as if she had never seen it before. She realized it was the way her mother looked at things.
Not long ago Katie had said Lisa was turning into her parents and that she should leave home as soon as possible. She longed to tell Katie that she had finally taken her advice but she would wait until she had found somewhere to stay. It would not be in St. Jarlath’s Crescent with Charles and Josie, no matter what Dingo thought, and no matter how Emily might try to persuade her.
Back at the Lynches’ house, Emily wanted to know how it had all gone. She was relieved that there had been no confrontation.