Minding Frankie by Maeve Binchy Read Free Book Online Page A

the bus home Noel realized that there was no way he could force himself to sit at the kitchen table eating a supper that Emily would have kept warm for him. Tonight was not a time to sit and talk about saints and statues and fund-raising and accountancy and business management classes. Tonight was a night to have three pints in some pub and forget everything. He headed for the pub where Paddy Carroll, Declan’s father, took his huge Labrador dog every night. With any luck, at this time of night Noel might get away without being spotted.
    The beer felt terrific. Like an old friend.
    He had lowered four pints before he realized it.
    Noel had hoped that he might have lost the taste for it, but that hadn’t happened. He just felt a great sense of irritation and annoyance with himself that he had denied himself this familiar and friendly relaxation. Already he was feeling better. His hand had stopped shaking, his heart wasn’t pounding as it had been.
    He
must
stay clear and focused.
    He would have to go back to St. Jarlath’s Crescent and take up some semblance of ordinary life. Emily would, of course, see through him at once, but he could tell her later. Much later. No need to announce everything to everyone all at once. Or maybe noneed to announce anything at all. It was, after all, some terrible mistake. Noel would
know
if he had fathered a child with that girl.
    He would
know
it.
    It had to have come from her mind having been affected by this cancer. Anybody normal would not have selected Noel, of all people, as the father of their child. Poor Stella was far from normal and he pitied her, but this was ludicrous.
    It could not be his child.
    He waved away the suggestion of a fifth pint and moved purposefully towards the door.
    He didn’t see Declan Carroll having a drink with his father and looking curiously at the man who had claimed to have given up alcohol but who had just downed four pints of beer at racing speed.
    Declan sighed.
    Whatever Noel had heard at the hospital, whoever he had visited, it had not made him happy.
    Paddy Carroll patted his son’s hand.
    “In a matter of weeks it will all be behind you. You’ll have a great little son and the waiting bit will be forgotten.”
    “Yes, Dad. Tell me what it was like when Mam was expecting me.”
    “I don’t know how I survived it,” Declan’s father said, and told the old, familiar story again from the point of view of the father of the baby.
    The mother’s role in the birth had been merely minimal, apparently.
    Noel had only opened his mouth when Emily looked up at him sharply. It was as if she had called the meeting to order.
    “We’re all tired now, it’s late. Not a good time to discuss the running of a thrift shop.”
    “A what?” Noel shook his head as if that would somehow settle the collection of thoughts and ideas that were nestling in it. His parents looked disappointed. They were being carried along by theenthusiasm of Emily’s planning and they were sorry to see it being cut short.
    But Emily was adamant. She had the whole household ready for bed in no time.
    “Noel, I saved you some Italian meatballs.”
    “They were just delicious,” Josie said. “Emily can turn her hand to anything.”
    “I don’t think I really want anything. I stopped on the way home, you see …,” Noel began.
    “I did see,” Emily said, “but these are good for you, Noel. Go on into your room and I’ll bring a tray in to you in five minutes.”
    There was no escape.
    He sat there waiting for her and the storm that would follow. Oddly there was no storm. She never mentioned the fact that he had taken up drinking again. And Emily had been right—he
did
feel better when he had something to eat. She was clearing up and about to go when she asked sympathetically if it had been a bad day.
    “The worst ever,” he said.
    “Mr. Hall?”
    “No, he was fine. Just something mad and upsetting happened later on in the day. That’s why I went back to the