Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [90]
Clara always said that when in doubt, you should speak your mind. Ask the question that is bothering you. Don’t play games.
“What’s wrong, Des? What has changed? In your letter you were eager to meet.… Why are you so different?”
“I didn’t know the whole story. I didn’t know what your family did.”
“What did they do?” Frank cried.
“As if you didn’t know.”
“I don’t know,” Frank protested.
“You don’t fool me. I’ve got documents, receipts, forms signed—I know the whole story now.”
“You know more than I do,” Frank said. “Who was writing these documents and filling in these forms?”
“My mother was a frightened girl of seventeen. Your father gave her a choice. She could leave Ireland forever and she would get a thousand pounds. One thousand pounds! That’s how much my life was worth. A miserable grand. And for this she was to sign an undertaking that she would never approach the Ennis family claiming any responsibility for her pregnancy.”
“This can’t be true!” Frank’s voice was weak with shock.
“Why did you think she had gone away?”
“Her mother told me she had gone to America to stay with cousins,” Frank said.
“Yes, that’s the story they all put out.”
“But why shouldn’t I have believed them?”
“Because you weren’t a fool. If you played according to their rules you were in a win-win situation. Troublesome girl irritatingly pregnant, out of your hair, out of the country. Everything sorted. You leapt at the chance.”
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t know there was anything to sort out. I never knew until I got your letter that I had a child.”
“Try another story, Frank.”
“Where did you hear all this about my parents asking Rita to sign documents?”
“From Nora. Her sister. My aunt Nora. I went to see her in London and she told me everything.”
“She told you wrong, Des. Nothing like that ever happened.”
“Give me credit for some brains. You’re not going to admit it now if you didn’t then.”
“There was nothing to admit. You don’t understand. All this came to me out of a clear blue sky.”
“You never got in touch with her. You never wrote to her once.”
“I wrote to her for three months every day. I put proper stamps for America on them, but got no reply.”
“Didn’t that ring any alarm bells?”
“No, it didn’t. I asked her mother if she was forwarding the letters and her mother said she was.”
“And eventually you gave up?”
“Well, I was getting no response. And her mother said …” He stopped as if remembering something.
“Yes?”
“She said I should leave Rita alone. That she had moved on in life. She said there had been a lot of fuss made, but the Ravens had done everything according to the letter of the law.”
“And you didn’t know what she meant?” Des was not convinced.
“I hadn’t an idea what she meant, but now I see … no, it couldn’t be …”
“What couldn’t be?”
“My parents—if you had known them, Des! Sex was never mentioned in our house. They would be incapable of any discussion about paying Rita off.”
“Did they like her?”
“Not particularly. They didn’t like anyone who was distracting me from my studies and exams.”
“And her folks, did they like you?”
“Not really, same sort of reasons. Rita was skipping her classes to be with me.”
“They thought you were a pig,” Des said.
“Surely not!” Frank was surprised at his calmness in the face of insult.
“That’s what Nora says. She says you ruined everyone’s life. You and your so-grand family. You broke them all up. Rita never came back from Australia because she had to swear not to. A perfectly decent family, minding its own business, ruined because of you and your snobbish family.” He looked very upset and very angry.
Frank knew he had to walk carefully. This boy had been so excited and enthusiastic about meeting him; now he was hostile and barely able to sit at the same table as the father he had crossed the world to meet.
“Rita’s sister in London—Nora, is it? She must be very upset.”
“Which is more than you are,” Des said mulishly.
“I am sorry. I tried to tell you that, but we got bogged down in a silly