Page 9 of Calling Frank O'Hare

Speakerphone was it? She’d give them speakerphone. ‘You do that, Finn. I’ll put mine on as well, so Ma can join the conversation.’

‘Oh okay. Hello there Auntie Clodagh. How are yer?’ Ha! Finn didn’t sound so optimistic now.

Ma bent over the phone. ‘Don’t you come here with your hellos and your how are yers, Finn Moran. You were given a job to do and you failed, although why I’m surprised about that I have no idea. Is Francis there with you?’

‘I’m here, Ma,’ said Frank.

‘And you’re no better. If you’d gone when we asked you to, this would have all been done and dusted by now and you’d have been back with those dogs you’re so fond of. And don’t be telling me no one else could have looked after them for a few days, you’ve plenty of friends. I’m not the idiot you take me for, Francis. I’ve spoken to your father about this and we are very disappointed in you. Very disappointed. You are both very disappointing.’

‘Is Da there with you?’ said Frank.

‘No he is not, and don’t try to change the subject,’ hissed Ma.

Siobhan had to work hard to conceal a smirk, it wouldn’t have gone down well. Still, at least she was off the hook. ‘What are you going to do now?’ she said to the phone.

‘We’re going to follow his trail. I promise you, we will track him down.’ Finn was back again with that annoyingly positive optimism. Frank was notable in his silence. Licking his wounds probably. Nobody likes to be called disappointing by Ma. Not even the golden boy.

‘Has Martin’s wife heard from him at all?’ The golden boy had found something to say. Maybe his ears were burning, except that was when someone was talking about you, wasn’t it?

‘Her name’s Bronagh, in case you forgot.’

‘Yes, I do know, Siobhan.’

‘No she hasn’t. He’s not answering his phone either.’

‘Well he’s left his phone behind, so that’ll be why,’ said Frank.

Why would he do that? Surely he wasn’t…? No, not Martin. Bronagh would have told her if she thought he’d been in that frame of mind. Wouldn’t she? Siobhan glanced at Ma but saw no outward signs of panic. She herself was feeling unsettled. She’d had enough of this call. ‘Just find him and get him home so we can sort this mess out.’

‘And if anything happens to Martin, I will never speak to either of you again,’ added Ma. That seemed a little melodramatic and highly unlikely, but Ma was Ma, she liked to end an angry conversation with a flourish.

‘Why do you think Martin left his phone behind?’ said Ma after they’d hung up.

Siobhan shrugged and tried to look convincing. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes you do. I told you not to leave it to those two. You should have gone after him.’

‘What am I, a bounty hunter?’ She forced out a laugh when really, she wanted to scream. Why was she always expected to sort out everyone else’s mess? ‘I’ll put the kettle on. I’ve some nice cake.’

Ma gave her a withering look. ‘I’m not a child, Siobhan. Do not treat me as one.’

‘Sorry Ma.’ Siobhan groaned inwardly. It seemed she was still on the hook. Fecking Martin. Fecking Frank and Finn. Fecking, fecking men.

8

All the best gangs have nicknames

Frank woke up in a strange bed feeling anxious. When he remembered he was in Finn’s spare room, the feeling of strangeness went but the anxiety persisted. His hastily made plan to get his brother back into the bosom of his family had been scuppered. So too had the one to get back home to Netta and his paintings. He was stuck up here for the foreseeable, or at least until they found Martin. Not to mention Finn’s campervan.

The call from Ma and Siobhan had clarified the situation on two specific points. Firstly, if he’d got off his arse quicker instead of procrastinating with all that rubbish about dogs, Martin would have been home by now for them to talk some sense into. Secondly, if he and Finn didn’t get off their arses right now and haul Martin back before he did anything stupid, they would never be spoken to again. Finn and Frank had briefly held each other’s eye at that declaration. Finn looked as if it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, and Frank probably did too, if he was honest with himself. Maybe if it was Siobhan, rather than Ma that had said it, they’d have entertained the idea a bit longer. But it was Ma and so it was only a fleeting thought and then it was gone. They both knew they had an obligation. Martin had disappeared on their watch. It was their job to retrieve him.

Frank got up, took a shower and went downstairs. Finn was in the living room on a yoga mat. He lowered himself from downward dog into a plank, and stayed there as if he was just having a wee rest. Frank watched him, mesmerised by his taut, rippling biceps. When they were kids, Finn was always the skinny little runt they couldn’t get rid of. When they were older, he was the booze monster they were always apologising for and still couldn’t get rid of. Both of those people seemed a long way off from the Finn of today.

‘Nearly done. Help yourself to breakfast,’ said Finn, without even one bead of sweat on his forehead.

There was granola, yoghurt and fruit on the kitchen worktop. Frank made probably the healthiest breakfast he’d ever eaten and countered it with a cup of coffee. Back in the living room, Finn had transitioned into a meditative pose, so Frank headed the other way into the tiny paved garden where he found another Buddha, a few pot plants, a table and two chairs.

When he finished eating, he rang Netta. They’d spoken last night but her parents were there so he’d kept it brief.