Page 88 of Calling Frank O'Hare

As they went they discussed their Christmas arrangements. She was spending it with her dearest friends who lived in Kings Heath. He was going to Stella and Adrian’s. Conversation was always easy with Edie. Frank never needed to try too hard. He liked that about his neighbour.

‘Have you heard from Ellen?’ she said.

‘Other than a Christmas card, not since last week.’

‘Such a shame that she’s missing so much.’

‘I was thinking the same thing this morning. But she prefers it this way.’

‘Do you think so, Frank? Pardon me, I don’t wish to speak out of turn, but do you think there’s a possibility that Ellen might be ill? Mentally, I mean.’

‘I tried that one, Edie. We talked about post-natal depression after Robyn was born but she refused to see a doctor. To be honest, I’m not sure if it’s just the way she was brought up. She’s always behaved like a spoilt child. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…’

Edie touched his arm. ‘Nothing to be sorry about. You know Ellen better than anyone. Take your time this morning, Frank. Have a few hours to yourself. You deserve it.’

He went on to the station lost in thought. Edie wasn’t the first person to raise the subject of Ellen’s mental health. Ade and Stella had done so too. And of course there had been the doctors at the Richmond Park not long after they’d married. But Ellen wasn’t mad. Selfish, impulsive and careless with other people’s feeling, yes. But mad? No.

Frank walked up Edie’s path. He’d done as she’d suggested and had a reasonably leisurely morning, despite the busy shops. He’d even treated himself to a pub lunch. He was feeling chilled.

Edie met him along the path, a picture of concern. ‘Ellen’s here. She was waiting for me when we got back from the park.’

Ellen was sitting on Edie’s sofa with Robyn asleep in her lap. Her hair was tied loosely and she had on a cobalt blue dress that he hadn’t seen before. A Pre-Raphaelite painting,Madonna and Child, immediately sprang to mind. History’s most perfect mother. Frank almost laughed out loud.

She looked down at her sleeping daughter, then at Frank and smiled. ‘Hello darling. Shall we go home?’

As soon as he closed the front door, Frank asked the question that had been on his lips from the moment Edie told him she was back: ‘How long are you staying?’

‘For good. I’ll have to go away for work now and then but I’m back now.’

She was so casual about it that it really riled him. ‘You know if I didn’t want Robyn to know her mother, I would quite happily tell you to just fuck yourself right back off again.’

‘Oh, have you got yourself another lover?’

Frank’s jaw dropped. The woman was completely devoid of empathy or guilt. ‘No, I have not. You’re unbelievable Ellen, you know that? Fucking unbelievable.’

She frowned. ‘Should I go then?’

Robyn stirred and began to cry.

Frank chewed on his lip. He should tell Ellen to go and never darken their doors again, but he couldn’t do that to his darling Baba. ‘Stay.’

58

The Scarlet Pimpernel does it again

Netta shut the front door and called out: ‘Honey, I’m home.’

‘In the kitchen. I’m making dinner.’ Frank wiped his hands and met her in the doorway.

She gave him a long, tender kiss. ‘Well hello, Mr O’Hare. Long time no see.’

‘Too long, Ms Wilde. Let me look at you.’ God but she was the most incredible, beautiful woman. And the wonderful thing about Netta Wilde, the most amazingly wonderful thing about her, was that she was as incredibly beautiful on the inside as the outside. ‘That’s a sexy number you’re wearing if I may say so.’

She looked down at her jeans and T-shirt and her mouth turned up in one corner. ‘Thank you. I find haute couture lends itself so well to jam making. And look, I’ve even added a few splashes for that extra special elegance.’

Frank dabbed a spot of jam stuck on her top and licked his finger. ‘Hmm, strawberry, if I’m not mistaken. There’s only one more thing this outfit needs, and I have it right here.’ He reached for the bag he’d left on the dresser. ‘Ta-da.’

Netta pulled out its contents. ‘Frilly knickers! How did you manage that?’

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