Roddy L’Estrange: Vinny happy to invest in his biggest outside bet

A chill easterly wind was whipping white flecks off Dublin Bay, splinters of hail stung like shrapnel, and the Clontarf promenade was deserted.

Sitting on a bench gazing seawards on this Valentine's Sunday lunchtime, Vinny Fitzpatrick seemed oblivious to the wintry grip.

Vinny had always taken comfort in Mother Nature’s whims, and the way her moods affected the seas, skies, and soil. To him, they were an unending sense of wonder, and a reminder of how inconsequential everyone was in life’s great weather-vane.

He thought of the poem by the Welsh poet WH Davies called Leisure. "How did it go again?" he asked himself. "Oh yeah."

“What is this life, if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs and stare as long as sheep or cows.

“No time to see when woods we pass, where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, streams full of stars, like skies at night.”

He always liked that poem and was chuffed it appeared in the Leaving Cert paper of ‘75, otherwise he’d never have scraped a C in English.

As Vinny, who had just finished a shift on the 31, sat and stared, he heard a voice he recognised by his shoulder.

“Tis’ a day most foul,” said Professor Rooney. “May I,” he said gesturing at the space beside Vinny on the bench.

Cancer care

Vinny nodded, for he hardly turn away the physician in charge of Angie’s cancer care.

“I was just checking all hatches were battened down in the Yacht Club when I recognised your distinctive gait as you made for this seat.

“I’ve seized the moment as I wanted to run an idea regarding Angie up the mainsail and see which way the wind is blowing.”

At that, Vinny felt his antennae twitch. Any idea at this stage was worth listening to.

Prof Rooney cleared his throat. “This is strictly off the record but I feel you’ve a duty to know.”

Vinny nodded his head. “Mum’s the word. Fire away.”

At that, Prof Rooney informed Vinny of a new drug in the US, called Sedonase, which was being used to treat aggressive cancers.

“It’s had some spectacular results, especially with breast-related illness,” said the Prof.

At that, Vinny’s heart soared and his mind raced.

He thought of WH Davies again. “No time to turn at Beauty’s glance, and watch her feet, how they dance. No time to wait till her mouth can enrich that smile her eyes began.”

Well there would be time now, wouldn’t there? To see Angie’s glance, her dancing feet; the smiling eyes.

He got up, punched the air and roared “Yabba Dabba Doo,” before feeling a tug on his coat as The Prof brought him back to his seat with a bump.

Clinical trials

“I think you may have missed some of the detail there, Vinny,” he said.

“This drug, Sedonase, has been sanctioned by the FDA in America, for use only in clinical trials in one top cancer hospital in Seattle.

“It’s not available anywhere else and the treatment isn’t covered by any Irish health insurer.

“So if this is a road you and Angie decide to take, then be prepared for a heavy expenditure with no guarantee.

“In racing terms, I’d say we’re looking at a 20/1 shot. No better.”

Vinny shot a glance at The Prof’s weatherbeaten profile, rather hangdog appearance, and harrumphed.

“Prof, I’ve lumped plenty on outsiders at bigger prices than that, and they’ve come in too. I’ll gladly take my chances. I can’t wait to tell Angie,” he said, getting to his feet for a second time.

As he turned to go, Prof Rooney called out.

“One more thing, Vinny. You’ll have to move quickly as the tides are not in Angie’s favour. You’ve only got a small window, two weeks at most, to get Angie started on the treatment.”

At home

Within 10 minutes, for he walked almost as quickly as

Rob Heffernan

, Vinny was at home in Mount Prospect Avenue.

He bounded the stairs two at a time, knocked lightly on the bedroom door, and peeked in. “How is my darling Valentine,” he beamed.

Angie was awake, staring inertly at the footie on TV. To one hand was a notepad, which she reached for as Vinny bounded in.

“Hi love,” she said wearily. “I’ve been doing some thinking while you were out. Sit down,” she said, patting the bed. “What I’m about to say you may find distressing but I need you to listen.

“Look, I know my race is in the final furlong and there’s no point in everyone tip-toeing around pretending otherwise. This Kerry dancer has got me licked.”

At that, Angie held up a finger to her lips and said “shush” softly.

“My affairs are in order, and the house, the mobile home in Wexford, my savings, will all go to you.

“My life insurance policy will help Emma with a down payment on a house and cover the kids’ education, down the line. I’ve also alerted Flanagans regards the family plot in St Fintan’s.

"I've even made notes about the music at St Gabriel's for Mass. I'm not into Andre Bocelli's Time To Say Goodbye or You Raise Me Up." If I hear that's been played, I'll be back to haunt you like a banshee, do you hear me?

"Keep it old-style, you know, Ave Maria, Panis Angelicus", The Lord Is My Shepherd, that sort of thing. Do it for me Vinny, please."

At that, Angie lay back on the pillow.

“I’m bushed,” she said.

“I didn’t sleep a wink last night for some reason.”

Vinny couldn’t contain himself. “Forget about being sleepless in Clontarf, love. What would you say to being sleepless in Seattle?” he exclaimed.

As Angie’s eyes widened in wonder, Vinny told his tale.