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Page 5 of Calling Frank O'Hare

‘None whatsoever. She’s put the kettle on now. That’s it done and dusted as far as Ma’s concerned. You’re under orders, Francis.’

Another sigh. ‘Right. I’ll book a plane ticket. I had plans, yer know. Lots of plans.’

‘Didn’t we all.’ If he was expecting sympathy, he was talking to the wrong person. ‘How long has it been since you last saw Finn?’

‘A while. We kind of lost touch.’

Lost touch was a neat and tidy way to describe it. If you were Frank anyway. As far as Siobhan remembered it wasn’t quite that neat and tidy. ‘Well you might notice a few differences in him since then.’

‘I don’t doubt it. I’ll prepare myself for the worst.’

She allowed herself another little smile. ‘You do that. I’ll send you his address and phone number. Go there and get Martin home. We’ll take it from there. Got it?’

Yet another sigh. ‘Yes.’

‘And stop sending me drunken messages in the middle of the night. I’m not interested in your pathetic musings on your childhood, our brother, Cousin Finn, or your awful taste in music. Call me when you’ve got your hands on Martin. Preferably around his neck. Goodbye.’

Ma came in with the tea. ‘It’s semi-skimmed. I’m trying to reduce your father’s cholesterol.’

‘I prefer skimmed myself,’ said Siobhan.

‘I know you do but that’s a step too far, in my opinion. You’ll have to make do.’

Siobhan took a cup off her and had a sip of tea. It was too thick and creamy for her taste but she would make do, as instructed. Sure, wasn’t that always the way?

Ma sat down. By the look on her face, you’d have thought the chair was a bed of nails. Siobhan knew that look. Ma was building up to saying something. She sipped on her tea and waited.

It was a short wait. Ma was nothing if not consistent. ‘Are you sure you can’t go, love? I really don’t think Francis is up to it.’

‘I can’t get any time off this week. It’s our busiest period. You know I would if I could.’

Ma stared into her eyes. It was like she was looking deep into Siobhan’s soul, searching for all the lies she’d ever told.

‘I practically got down on my bended knees and begged them.’ She was overcompensating now. She knew it but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Honestly, Mammy. Frank will be there tomorrow and Martin will be back in no time.’

Ma sniffed. ‘We’ll see. I wish I had your confidence.’ It was one of those sideways statements, like when someone pays you a backhanded compliment and you instantly know they don’t mean it. It was a good job she hadn’t let on about Frank’s messages. The man was clearly deranged.

‘What was it you called that Venetta woman?’ At least Ma had moved on from Frank’s lack of capability.

‘It’s Netta, Ma. I said she was his new life partner. It’s just another way of saying the person he’s settled down with.’

‘Are they living together?’

‘As far as I know, she lives next door.’

‘So she’s just his neighbour then?’

‘No, they’re a couple. They just don’t live together.’ It sounded like a very sensible arrangement to Siobhan. She couldn’t imagine anything more irritating than living with Frank. Well, yes she could actually. Living with Martin would be even worse. She really didn’t know how Bronagh stood it. Dermot had been bad enough but at least in the last few years before the divorce he’d had the decency to spend most of his spare time at the pub.

‘You know an awful lot about Frank’s living arrangements. I didn’t realise you talked that often,’ said Ma.

‘We don’t. I talk to Robyn more than I talk to Frank.’

‘I talk to Robyn as well. She hardly ever mentions this neighbour who’s supposed to be her father’s new life partner.’ Ma bobbed her head about and did air quotes when she said life partner.

‘I expect she has more interesting things to talk to you about.’ Siobhan unlocked her phone and opened up her photos. ‘Do you want to see the new dress I’m having made. It’s for a big work event. I designed it myself.’

Ma stood up and whipped Siobhan’s mug away. ‘You spend far too much money on clothes.’




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