Page 92 of Calling Frank O'Hare

‘Oh no. We were just about to have dinner. Knowing Frank’s cooking, he’ll have made enough for a whole family, so there’ll be plenty for you too. Come into the lounge.’

Frank came down, fully dressed. ‘What the fuck are you playing at? I’ve had Siobhan screaming down the phone at me.’

‘No change there then,’ said the prodigal brother.

Frank stuck his finger inches away from Martin’s nose. ‘Don’t piss about. I am this close to battering you.’

‘I’ve invited Martin to stay for dinner.’ Netta blurted it out in the hope of cooling the situation down. Frank was definitely angry now and, although she’d never imagined him battering anything other than a piece of fish, there was every chance a battering was on the cards. That said, as she sized the two men up, she wasn’t convinced Frank would come out on top.

‘Oh he’s staying for dinner. He’s not going anywhere until I have personally made sure he’s in Belfast.’ Frank folded his arms. It was like watching one of those boxing weigh ins. ‘And Finn’s on his way down. I’ve told him I’d take care of it, but he’s made a promise to Siobhan.’

Martin took three steps back, possibly to avoid anything swinging in his direction. ‘God help us if we break a promise to Siobhan.’ He winked at Netta. ‘Our sister is a bit of a tyrant.’

She thought she saw Frank flinch. Probably her imagination. ‘I’m not surprised. I’d say she has her hands full. I’ll lay the table.’

Dinner was more than a little awkward. Netta started off trying to make polite conversation until she realised it was futile. In the end she settled for amused detachment, letting the drama unfold before her.

‘You’ve a nice house,’ said Martin.

‘Thanks. It’s a bit tatty around the edges but I like it that way. Frank helped a lot with the decorating.’

‘He would do. He gets that from our da. It was Da’s paying hobby. He’s probably decorated every house in the street at some time.’

‘I didn’t know that. And you both used to help him?’ said Netta.

Martin shook his head. ‘Only Frank. I was never asked. It was their thing.’

‘It was not our thing. It was just because I was the oldest.’ Frank slugged his wine back. He’d been drinking it a lot faster than he normally did. Netta thought of the empty bottles she’d found in his lounge. The mystery behind them was becoming clearer with every passing minute.

‘No. Siobhan’s the oldest. Age had nothing to do with it.’ Martin turned to Netta. ‘Wasn’t there an old lady who used to live here before you?’

‘Yes, Edie. You’ve been here before then?’ said Netta.

‘Not for a good while. I think the last time I was here was… When was it, Frank?’

‘2007.’ Frank emptied his glass. ‘It was the summer of 2007.’

61

Is it Eve?

Frank kissed Netta goodnight. ‘I’m sorry, our plans have been ruined again.’

‘It’s okay. We’ll sort things out tomorrow and we’ll have time left for us.’

‘I had so many things to share with you.’

‘Another time.’ She closed the front door.

Martin was waiting on the pavement with Fred. Frank glared at him. ‘Come on you.’

Frank switched on the light in his hall. Martin closed the door behind him and cast his eyes up and across the wide hall, then wandered around opening doors and looking into the rooms. ‘It’s hardly changed. Did you not think of giving it a lick of paint?’

‘No, I did not. I’ve been too busy.’ It was the truth. In part. He had been too busy when it was just him and Robyn. When Ellen went for the final time, he’d been intending to make a start, but it was only after Netta arrived that he’d been forced out of his inertia and begun to clear Ellen’s things. One of these days he’d get round to decorating and make the place his own.

‘Still, you’ve a nice set up here with your woman next door.’

Martin had just made his relationship sound like some sordid business arrangement and for that reason alone, Frank refused to dignify the observation with an acknowledgement.

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