Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [71]
“No, I suppose not.” Dingo was still reluctant.
“I’ll call you, Dingo, when he’s found, and I’ll tell him you didn’t want to leave but I forced you to.” He had hit the right note. Dingo hadn’t wanted to leave his post without permission. Now he could go back home without guilt.
Declan sat down beside Frankie’s crib. The baby slept on as peacefully as his own son slept back at home. But little Johnny Carroll had a much more secure future ahead of him than poor baby Frankie here. Declan sighed heavily as he settled himself into an armchair.
Where could Noel be until this hour?
Noel was asleep in a shed on the other side of Dublin.
He had no idea how he had got there. The last thing he could remember was some kind of argument in a bar and people refusing him further drink. He had left in annoyance and then found, to his rage, that he couldn’t get back in again, and there were no other public houses in the area. He had walked for what seemed a very long time and then it got cold, so he decided to have a rest before he went home.
Home?
He would have to be careful letting himself in to 23 St. Jarlath’s Crescent—then he remembered with a shock that he didn’t live there anymore.
He lived in Chestnut Court with Frankie and Lisa.
He would have to be even more careful going back there. Lisa would be shocked at him and Frankie might even be frightened. But Lisa was away. He remembered that now. His heart gave a sudden jump. What about the baby? He would never have left Frankie alone in the apartment, would he?
No, of course he hadn’t. He remembered Dingo had come in. Noel looked at his watch. That was hours ago. Hours. Was Dingo still there? He wouldn’t have contacted Moira, would he? Oh, please, God, please, St. Jarlath, please, anyone up there, let Dingo not have rung Moira.
He felt physically ill at the thought and realized that he was indeed going to be sick. As a courtesy to whoever owned this garden shed, Noel went out to the road. Then his legs felt weak and wouldn’t support him. He went back into the shed and passed out.
In spite of the discomfort, Declan slept for several hours in the chair. When the light came in the window he realized that Noel hadn’t come home. He went to make himself a cup of tea and decide what to do. He rang Fiona.
“Is today one of Moira’s days up in your clinic?”
“Yes, she’ll be there for the morning. Are you coming home?”
“Not immediately. Remember, don’t say a word to her about any of this. We’ll try to cover for him, but she can’t know. Not until we’ve found him.”
“Where is he, Declan?” Fiona sounded frightened.
“Out on the tear somewhere, I imagine.…”
“Listen, Signora and Aidan will be here soon. They’re collecting Johnny and will be going to pick up Frankie then and take them to their daughter’s place.…”
“I’ll wait until they’re here. I’ll have her ready for them.”
“You really are a saint, Declan,” Fiona said.
“What else can we do? And remember, Moira knows nothing.”
“Not a word to the Kamp Kommandant,” Fiona promised.
The clinic was in a state of fuss because Frank Ennis was paying one of his unexpected visits.
“You were out with him last night—did he not give you any idea he was coming in today?” Hilary asked Clara Casey.
“Me?” asked Clara in disbelief. “I’m the very last person on earth that he’d tell. He’s always hoping to catch me out in something. It’s driving him mad that he hasn’t been able to do it so far.”
“Look, he’s talking to Moira very intently about something,” Hilary whispered.
“Well, we marked her card for her about Frank,” Clara said, “and if Ms. Tierney says a word out of order she’s out of here.”
“I’ll get nearer and see what they’re talking about,” Hilary offered.
“Really, Hilary, I am surprised at you,” Clara said in mock horror.
“You go away and I’ll hover,” said Hilary. “I’m a great hoverer. That’s why I know so much.”
Clara made for her desk, which was in the center of the clinic; there was a phone call from Declan.
“Don’t say my name,” he said immediately.
“Sure, right. What can I do for you?”
“Is Moira near you?