Minding Frankie

Josie and Charles Lynch had lived in 23 St Jarlath's Crescent since they were married thirty-two years ago. They had seen many changes in the area. The corner shop had become a mini supermarket; the old laundry, where sheets had been ironed and folded, was now a launderette, where people left in big bags bulky with mixed clothes and asked for a Service Wash. There was now a proper Medical Practice with four doctors, where once there had been just old Doctor Gillespie who had brought everyone into the world and seen them out of it.

During the height of the economic boom, houses in St Jarlath's Crescent had been changing hands for amazing sums of money. Small houses with gardens near the city centre were much in demand. Not any more, of course – the Recession had been a great equaliser, but it was still a much more substantial area than it had been three decades ago.

After all, just look at Molly and Paddy Carroll with their son Declan – a doctor – a real, qualified doctor! And just look at Muttie and Lizzie Scarlet's daughter Cathy. She ran a catering company that was hired for top events.

But a lot of things had changed for the worse. There was no community spirit any more. No Church processions went up and down the Crescent on the feast of Corpus Christi as they used to three decades ago. Josie and Charles Lynch felt that they were alone in the world, and certainly in St Jarlath’s Crescent, in that they knelt down at night and said the Rosary.

That had always been the way.

When they married they planned a life based on the maxim that the family that prays together stays together. They had assumed they would have eight or nine children, because God never put a mouth into this world that He didn’t feed. But that wasn’t to happen. After Noel, Josie had been told there would be no more children. It was hard to accept. They both came from big families; their brothers and sisters had produced big families. But then, perhaps, it was all meant to be this way.

They had always hoped Noel would be a priest. So it was with great surprise and a lot of disappointment that Josie and Charles learned that their quiet son had no interest whatsoever in a Religious Life. The Brothers said that he showed no sign of a vocation and when the matter had been presented to Noel as a possibility at the age of 14, he had said if it was the last job on earth he wouldn’t go for it.

That had been very definite indeed.

By the time he was sixteen they realised that he didn't go to Sunday Mass any more. He told them that there was no point in his staying on at school as there was nothing more he needed to learn from them. They were hiring office staff up at Hall's and they would train him in Office Routine. He might as well go to work straight away rather than hang about.

Noel got his place in Hall's. He met his work colleagues but without any great enthusiasm. They would not be his friends and companions any more than his fellow students at the Brothers had become mates. He didn't want to be alone all the time but it was often easier.

He took to coming home later and later. He also took to visiting Casey's pub on the journey home – a big barn of a place – both comforting and anonymous at the same time. It was familiar because everyone knew his name. It wasn't a trendy pub with fancy prices. It wasn't full of girls giggling and interrupting a man's drinking. People left him alone here.

That was worth a lot.

Noel got by fine not thinking too deeply on anything: not about his dead end job in Hall's; not about the hours and money he spent in Old Man Casey's pub; not about the religious mania of his parents who thought that the Rosary was the answer to most of the world's problems. Noel would not think about the lack of a steady girlfriend in his life. He just hadn't met anyone, that's all it was. Nor indeed did he worry about the lack of any kind of mates. Some places were easy to find friends. Hall's wasn't one of those places. Noel had decided that the very best way to cope with things not being so great was not to think about them at all. It had worked well so far.

Why fix things if they weren’t broken?