Free Minding Frankie by Maeve Binchy Page A

everything, believing nothing, always trying to trip you up.”
    “I suppose they have to be a bit like that on behalf of the child,” Emily murmured.
    “Yes, but not like the secret police. You see, I sort of implied that Noel and I were more of an item than we are. You know, in terms of seeing each other and everything.”
    “Sure.” Emily nodded approvingly. It made sense.
    There was no point in Stella telling a social worker that she hardly knew the least thing about the father of the child she was about to have.
    It wouldn’t look good from the start.
    “I’ll help to fill you in on all that,” Emily said.
    At that moment Noel came in, closely followed by Moira Tierney.
    She was in her early thirties with dark hair swept back with a red ribbon. If not for her frown of concentration, she would have beenconsidered attractive. But Moira was too busy to consider looking attractive.
    “You are Noel Lynch?” she said briskly and without much enthusiasm.
    He began to shuffle and appear defensive.
    Emily moved in quickly. “Give me your parcels, Noel. I know you want to say hello to Stella properly.” She nudged him towards the bed.
    Stella held up her thin arms to give him an awkward combination of a hug and a peck on the cheek.
    Moira watched suspiciously.
    “You and Stella don’t share a home, Mr. Lynch?” Moira said.
    “No, not at the moment,” he agreed apologetically.
    “But there are active plans going ahead so that Noel can get a place of his own to raise Frankie,” Emily said.
    “And you are …?” Moira looked at Emily inquiringly.
    “Emily Lynch. Noel’s cousin.”
    “Are you the only family he has?” Moira checked her notes.
    “Lord, no! He has a mother and father, Josie and Charles …,” Emily began, making sure that Stella could hear the names as well.
    “And they are …?” Moira had an irritating habit of asking a question the wrong way round, as if she were making some kind of disapproving statement.
    “They are at home organizing a fund to erect a statue to St. Jarlath in their street.”
    “St.
Jarlath
?” Moira was bewildered.
    “I know! Aren’t they wonderful? Well, you’ll meet them yourself. They’ll be in tomorrow to see Stella.”
    “They will?” Stella was startled.
    “Of course they will.” Emily sounded more confident than she felt.
    Josie would take a lot of convincing before she arrived to see the girl who was no better than she should be. But Emily was working on it and the important thing just now was to let the social worker see that there was strong family support.
    Moira absorbed it all as she was meant to.
    “And where do you intend to live, Mr. Lynch, if you
are
given custody of the child?”
    “Well of course he will have custody of the child,” Stella snapped. “He’s the child’s father. We are all agreed on that!”
    “There may be circumstances which might challenge this.” Moira was prim.
    “What kind of circumstances?” Stella was angry now.
    “A background of alcohol abuse, for one thing,” Moira said.
    “Not from me, Noel,” Stella said apologetically.
    “Naturally, we make inquiries,” Moira said.
    “But that is all under control now,” Emily said.
    “Well, that will be looked into,” Moira said in a clipped voice. “What kind of accommodation were you thinking of, Mr. Lynch?”
    Emily spoke again. “Noel’s family have been discussing nothing else but accommodation. We are looking at this apartment in Chestnut Court. It’s a small block of flats not far away from where he lives now.”
    “Would it not be preferable to start the child off living with a ready-made family in er … St. Jarlath’s Crescent?”
    “Well, you see …,” Noel began.
    “You see, Moira, you are very welcome to come and visit Noel’s home at any time, but you will realize that it’s entirely unsuited for a baby. The places in Chestnut Court are much more child-friendly. The one we are all interested in is on the ground floor. Would