Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [67]
“But do they love her? I mean they’ll never give her up if they are mad about her.”
“They might have no choice in it,” Moira said.
“I won’t tell Linda anything about it in case. No point in raising her hopes,” Clara said.
“No. If and when it does come up, I’ll let you know immediately.”
Then they chatted about the various patients who came to the heart clinic. Moira asked about Clara’s friend Frank Ennis and learned that he was a very decent man in most ways, but had a blind spot about saving St. Brigid’s money.
Clara asked did Moira have anyone in her life and Moira said no because she had always been too busy. They touched briefly on Clara’s ex-husband, Alan, who was the lowest of the low, and on Moira’s father, now happily settled in with Mrs. Kennedy, who had asked only for one more crack at happiness and seemed to have found it.
Just as Moira was paying the bill, Anton came in accompanied by a very pretty girl who looked about twenty. He came over to their table.
“Ms. Tierney, I hope everything was all right for you?” he said.
“Lovely,” Moira said. “This is Dr. Casey.… Clara, this is Anton Moran.”
“It was all delicious,” Clara said. “I will certainly tell people about it.”
“That’s what we need.” Anton had an easy charm.
Moira looked at the young woman expectantly.
Eventually Anton broke and introduced her. “This is April Monaghan,” he said.
“Oh, I read about you in the papers. You were in London recently,” Moira said, gushing slightly.
“That’s right,” April agreed.
“It’s just that I know a great friend of yours. A great friend, Lisa Kelly, and she was there too at the same time.”
“Yeah, she was,” April agreed.
Anton’s smile never faltered.
“How exactly do you know Lisa, Ms. Tierney?”
“Through work. I’m a social worker,” Moira said, surprised at herself for answering so readily.
“I thought social workers didn’t discuss their cases in public.” His smile was still there, but not in his eyes.
“No, no, Lisa isn’t a client. I just know her sort of through something else.…” Moira was flustered now. She could sense Clara’s disapproval. Why had she brought up this matter, anyway? It was in order to fill in the missing parts of the jigsaw in Chestnut Court. The unaccustomed house cocktail and the bottle of wine had loosened her tongue. Now she had somehow managed to spoil the whole day.
Everything settled into a routine at the heart clinic. Clara Casey seemed pleased by Moira’s input and could not fault her in terms of diligence and following up everything that needed to be checked. But the warmth had gone. Moira did not feel as included as she had thought herself to be.
The others were all welcoming, but Clara seemed to have lost respect for her. Moira had seen some forms on Hilary’s desk asking whether the part-time social worker was to be a permanent position. Clara had attached a note.
“Tell them not yet. Position is still under review.”
So Clara Casey didn’t really trust her just because of a stupid, tactless slip in the restaurant. Moira redoubled her efforts on all fronts.
She got Gerald full-time care in his home, to the great annoyance of his daughter and son-in-law. She had saved him from going to the old people’s home, which he had dreaded, and he told everyone she was a knight in shining armor. She managed to get children of a drug addict mother fostered in a happy home where they had warmth and toys and regular meals for the first time in their lives. She found a teenage runaway sleeping rough under a bridge by the river and invited her home for soup and a good talking-to. The girl slept for seventeen hours on Moira’s sofa and then went back like an obedient lamb to her family home.
She managed to frighten a couple who were signing on for unemployment benefits at the same time as making a very reasonable living from a sandwich bar and to terrify a factory owner who was paying much less than the minimum rate with threats of major publicity. She had even managed to get her brother, Pat, into not only sheltered housing but a sheltered workshop doing woodwork