Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [74]
Declan forced himself to be cheerful. “It will be over soon and meanwhile the more help you can get, the better.”
“Go back to the real world and heal the sick, Declan. Don’t bother with me and my addictions.”
“What could be more real than the man whose daughter is going to be best friends with our son—remember? We arranged it with Stella.”
“Thank God she doesn’t know how it all turned out,” Noel said fervently.
“It turned out very well until now and it will again. Anyway, according to people like your parents and mine, Stella does know, and she understands it all perfectly.”
“You don’t believe any of that claptrap, Declan, do you?”
“Not exactly, but you know …” Declan ended it vaguely.
“No, I don’t know, I don’t know at all. But if I have to tell Aidan and Signora then I will. Is that okay?”
“Thanks, Noel.”
Declan had, of course, already told Fiona all about Noel. She had been, as usual, practical and optimistic.
“He sounds shocked by what he did,” she said.
“Yes, but I wish I knew why he did it,” Declan said, worried.
“You said yourself he was in bad form.”
“But he must have been in bad form a hundred times during the last few months and he never went out on the town. He loves that child. You should see him with her. He’s as good as any mother.”
“I know, I have seen him … everyone has. That child has a dozen families round here who’ll all do a bit more at the moment.”
“Noel’s very sensitive about not letting people know, but he has to tell them. Until he does, don’t say anything.”
“Quiet as the grave,” Fiona said.
Declan Carroll took his morning surgery. He had been two hours late, so Dr. Hat had been called in to help.
“Muttie Scarlet rang a couple of times. He said you’d have some results for him today.”
“And I do,” Declan said glumly.
“I thought you might.” Dr. Hat was sympathetic.
“Isn’t it a shit life, Hat?” Declan said.
“It is indeed, but I’m usually the one who says that and you always say it’s not so bad.”
“I’m not saying that today. I’m off out to Muttie’s house. Can you stay a bit longer?”
“I’ll stay as long as you like. They don’t want me, though; they’ll ask when the real doctor will be back,” Dr. Hat said.
“I bet they do! They still ask me was I born when they got their first twinge of whatever they have and the answer is always that I wasn’t.”
“Ah, Declan, any news yet?” Muttie answered the door. He spoke in a low voice. He didn’t want his wife, Lizzie, to hear the conversation.
“You know how they are,” Declan said. “They’re so laid-back up there in the hospital they give a new urgency to the word mañana.…”
“So?” Muttie asked.
“So I was wondering would we go and have a pint?” Declan said.
“I’ll go and get Hooves,” Muttie suggested.
“No, let’s go to Casey’s instead of Dad’s and your pub—too many Associates there … we’d get nothing said.”
Declan saw from Muttie’s face that he realized immediately that the news wasn’t good.
Old Man Casey served them and, since there was no response to his conversation about the weather, the neighborhood and the recession, he left them alone.
“Give it to me straight, Declan,” Muttie said.
“It’s only early days yet, Muttie.”
“It’s bad enough for a drink in the middle of the day, lad. Will you tell me or do I have to beat it out of you?”
“They saw a shadow on the X-ray; the scan showed a small tumor.”
“Tumor?”
“You know … a lump. I’ve made an appointment for you with a specialist next month.”
“Next month?”
“The sooner we deal with it, the better, Muttie.”
“But how in the name of God did you get an appointment so soon? I thought there was a waiting list as long as your arm?”
“I went private,” Declan said.
“But I’m a workingman, Declan, I can’t afford these fancy fees.…”
“You won a fortune a few years back on some horse. You’ve got money in the bank—you told me.”
“But that’s for emergencies and rainy days.…”
“This is a rainy day, Muttie.” Declan blew his nose very loudly. This was more than he could bear at the moment. He heard himself lying as he felt he had been lying all day.
“The thing is, Muttie, once