Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [98]
“I asked her,” Pat said simply, looking at his watch.
“Are you anxious to be back there?” Moira asked him.
“Well, she’s on her own—there’s only a young girl in the shop and she’s a bit of an eejit with the till.”
Moira looked at him and bit her lip. She hoped that there were not tears in her eyes. Pat reached over and took her hand.
“I know, Moira, it’s hard for you having no one of your own and seeing Dad all settled with Maureen and me with Erin, but it will happen, I’m sure.”
She nodded wordlessly.
“Come back to the garage with me. Come in and talk to Erin.”
“I will.” Moira paid for their coffee and walked like an automaton back to the garage.
Erin was pleased to see them. “There was no hurry, Pat. You could have stayed longer.”
“I didn’t want to leave you on your own too long.”
“Well, there, Moira! Isn’t that music to the ears?” Pat had gone to put on his working gear again.
Moira looked at Erin. “It’s great that he’s here with you. He has had so little warmth and affection. He was never in a loving family. You won’t … you wouldn’t …”
Erin interrupted her. “He’s found a loving family now and here he will stay. Rest assured of that.”
“Thank you, I will,” Moira said.
“And come back and see us again and when you do, stay in our house—don’t be paying fancy prices up in Stella Maris.”
“How did you know I was there?”
“One of my friends works there. She rang and told me you were asking questions about me. Harry’s long gone, Moira. He’s not coming back. Pat is staying. He is exactly what we all need. He’s cheerful and happy and reliable and always there. I didn’t have that before, and for me it’s lovely too.”
Moira gave her an awkward hug and went back to Stella Maris.
“I wonder if it will be an inconvenience if I cancel tonight’s booking? I find I have to go back to Dublin on the afternoon train.”
“No problem, Ms. Tierney. I’ll just prepare your bill for one night. Will you be coming back to us again?”
Moira remembered that Erin had a friend here who reported things.
“Well, I may stay with Erin O’Leary next time. She very kindly invited me. I was so pleased.”
“Very nice,” the receptionist said. “Always nice to stay in a family home.…”
Moira looked out the window at the rain-covered countryside. Cows standing wet and bewildered, horses sheltering under trees, sheep oblivious to the weather, farmers in rain gear going along narrow lanes.
Most people on the train were going to Dublin for some outing or activity. Or else they were going back to a family. Moira was going home to an empty flat halfway through the long weekend. She could not bear to stay in the place where her brother and her father had found such happiness and where she had found nothing but resentment and sadness.
It was still early enough to go somewhere. But where? She was hungry, but she didn’t feel like going to a café or a restaurant on her own. She went into a shop to buy a bar of chocolate.
“Gorgeous day, isn’t it? The rain’s gone,” said a woman about her own age behind the counter.
“Yes, it is,” Moira said, surprised she hadn’t noticed that the weather had improved.
“I’ve only another hour here and then I’m off,” the shop assistant confided. She had stringy hair and a big smile.
“And where will you go to?” Moira asked. She wasn’t being polite; she was interested. Possibly this woman, like everyone else in the universe, had a huge, loving family dying for her shift to finish.
“I’ll go out to the sea by train,” she said. “Don’t know where yet, but maybe Blackrock, Dun Laoghaire, Dalkey or even Bray. Anywhere I can walk beside the sea, have a bag of chips and an ice cream. Maybe I’ll have a swim, maybe I’ll meet a fellow. But I wouldn’t be standing indoors here all day with the sun shining outside and everyone else free as a bird.”
“And you’d do all this by yourself?” Moira was curious.
“Isn’t that the best part? No one else to please, and all my options open.”
Moira walked out thoughtfully. She had never taken the train out to the seaside. Not in all her years in Dublin. If work brought her that way, she would