Page 8 of Calling Frank O'Hare

‘He’s left his phone behind? On purpose, do you think?’

‘I think so, yes. Probably got himself a new one, so we couldn’t contact him. Unless he’s decided…’

‘Unless he’s decided what? To top himself?’

‘I was going to say, unless he’s decided to go off grid. I’ve been talking to him about how it helped me sort myself out. I thought it might give him something positive to think about. I didn’t think it would give him ideas, like. If he’d only said, I’d have been happy to take him on a trip. He didn’t have to steal the fucking thing. I love that van.’ Finn pulled up onto the drive of a small, modern terraced house. ‘Here we are. This is home.’

If he’d been asked to describe the house of a single, fifty-nine-year-old man with a one-time serious addiction to partying, Frank was pretty sure Finn’s house would come close. Except maybe for the Buddha statues. He’d been in four rooms so far and there was one in every room, including the bathroom. Other than that, there were no ornaments, paintings or pictures of any kind. Just modern, comfortable furniture and a lot of electronic equipment. If Frank’s house hadn’t been decorated by Ellen, and moulded by Robyn, it would probably come close to this. Although he’d definitely have paintings on the wall, and not one single Buddha.

He came out of the bathroom and found Finn in the kitchen. ‘Coffee?’

Frank noted the super-sleek top of the range coffee maker. Yeah, he’d probably have one of those too. ‘That’d be grand.’

They sat at the kitchen table on chairs that looked like they were fresh from the showroom.

‘So what do we do now?’ said Frank.

‘We go get it back.’

‘It?’

‘The van. Martin too, of course. I’ve made the arrangements at work. We’ll head off in the Mini tomorrow.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘On a road trip. Cheer up, Frank. It’ll be like the old days, you, me and Martin. When we catch up with the sneaky bastard anyways.’

Frank sighed. In the old days they were kids, not old men. Well, he was old. Martin was less than two years younger than him but he was probably no better. And God only knows what kind of pact with the devil Finn had made, because he was probably the only one of them that seemed to be ageing backwards. So no, it was not going to be like the old days. Anyway, how could it be, when they were missing a key player in their little gang? Not Martin, obviously. That useless shite was only ever a liability.

‘There’s just one thing we need to work out quickly,’ said Finn.

‘What’s that?’

‘We need to work out what we’re going to say to your Ma and Siobhan. They’ll be calling us soon.’

From nowhere a tune floated through the air towards them. For a second Frank thought that maybe Finn’s Alexa had misinterpreted their conversation and thought they’d requested the kind of music you might hear while having a soothing back massage. Then he looked down and saw that it was actually Finn’s phone ringing.

Finn glanced at the phone and then at Frank, his expression a cross between resignation and panic. ‘Oh.’

7

Golden boy disappoints

Siobhan could not believe her ears. Martin, the shifty fecker, had absconded yet again. ‘So you’ve lost him.’ She made sure to put extra emphasis on the word “you’ve” because Ma had a face of fury on her, and Siobhan did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

‘Only temporarily,’ said Cousin Finn.

‘Temporarily doesn’t make it okay, Finn. No matter how hard you try to gloss it up, you were supposed to hold onto him and instead you’ve lost him.’

‘Yes you could say that, Siobhan. I prefer to take a more optimistic view.’

Oh for Christ’s sake, Finn was back on to that karma shit again. She had to put a stop to it right now. ‘Finn, there is no optimistic view to be taken here.’

Ma interrupted her flow: ‘What’s optimism got to do with it? Is that Finn talking nonsense again?’

Siobhan took the phone away from her ear. ‘Yes it is, Ma. He said he prefers to take a more optimistic view.’

Ma muttered something under her breath which may very well have been a swear word. Meanwhile Finn was doing his best to squirm out of trouble by roping in the other eejit. ‘Hang on Siobhan, I’ll put you on speakerphone, then you can talk to the both of us.’