Scarlet Feather (8 page)

A telephone in a quiet house can sound like an alarm bell. Somehow, from its very tone, Cathy knew this wasn’t going to be an easy phone call.

Is Neil there?’ her mother-in-law snapped.  I’m afraid he’s out with Jonathan. There was an attempt to hustle him out of the country this morning.’

‘When will he be coming back?’ Hannah’s voice was a rasp. ‘Well, when he’s finished, he won’t know when. ‘I’ll call his mobile…’

‘He turns it off at meetings like this, he couldn’t…’ ‘Where
is
he, Cathy, he has to come here at once.’ ‘Has there been an accident… ?’

‘There has indeed been an accident, and most of the kitchen ceiling has come down,’ Hannah cried. ‘They left bath taps running and the weight of the water… I need Neil to get those children out of here to wherever they’re going to be sent. We haven’t had a moment’s peace – and as for you, Cathy, those children have eaten entirely unsuitable rich desserts and have been sick. I need to talk to Neil. Now.’ Her voice was by now dangerously high and shaky.  I can’t contact him for you, I really can’t. But I know what he’d say.’

If you’re going to tell me to calm down…’

‘He’d say we’ll take them here. So that’s what we’ll do.’ Cathy sighed.

‘Can you, Cathy?’ The relief in Hannah’s voice was clear. ‘They’ve been allowed to run wild – they need professionals to look after them, to try to bring them back to normal. And I don’t want Neil to say I put them on to you…’

‘It won’t be like that.’

‘No. But get him to ring me the moment you can.’

Cathy smiled. She had now what her mother called her-meat-and-her-manners: she had offered and been refused – even if she had only offered because she could see it coming anyway. She dialled Neil’s mobile phone to leave the message.

‘Sorry to disturb you with trivia, but the- twins have apparently brought down the ceiling in Oaklands. Ring your mother soonest. Hope it’s all going well for Jonathan.’

Then she went to the spare room and made up two beds. The twins would be there before nightfall.

Tom rang to say he wanted to borrow the van and would that be all right.

I want to go up into the mountains, I think. It’s just I can’t think or talk about anything else and I’m afraid I’ll drive Marcella demented. Do you want to come? Is Neil bearing up?’

‘He’s still out fighting the good fight. I’d better not come with you, though, we have another horror-story brewing. Remember the twins from hell who turned up at Oaklands last night?’

‘Have they burned the place down yet?’

‘They might have by now. But they’re probably packing their things and getting ready to come to Waterview as we speak.’

‘Cathy, they
can’t
Tom was aghast. ‘You don’t have room, apart from anything else.’

‘Don’t I know it, but as my father would say, even money we see them here tonight.’

‘So what are you doing?’

‘Nailing things down, mainly. Removing anything breakable. You know, the usual.’

‘I’ll just sneak into the courtyard and take the van away,’ Tom said.

‘Don’t even look up at a window, they could fire something at you,’ she said with a laugh.

‘Just one word of warning, Cathy and then I’ll shut up about it all. Don’t let Neil take them on and then go off saving the world and leaving them to you.’

She sighed. ‘And will you take one word of warning from me. Drive carefully, we haven’t half-finished paying for that van and when you get excited you take your eyes off the road and your hands off the wheel.’

‘When the business is successful, we’ll get a tank,’ he promised.

Cathy made yet another cup of tea and thought about Tom. They had met on her first day at catering college; with his shock of thick, light brown hair he had an artlessly graceful way of moving. His enthusiasm and the light in his eyes had been the keynote of their years on the course. There was nothing Tom Feather would not attempt, suggest, carry out.

There had been the time he had ‘borrowed’ a car from one of the lecturers because it had been left in the college yard for the weekend and Tom thought it could take six of them to Galway and back. Sadly, they’d met the lecturer in Galway and it could have been very difficult.

‘We brought your car in case you wanted to drive home,’ Tom had said, with such brio that the lecturer had half-believed him and almost apologised for the wasted journey since he had a return ticket and a girlfriend with him.

There had been the picnics and barbecues where Tom insisted they must be true to their calling and insisted on marinating kebabs when others would have been content with burned sausages. Cathy could almost smell those nights full of food and herbs and wine on the beaches around Dublin, and the winter evenings in the ramshackle flat that Tom shared with three other guys.

Cathy had envied him the freedom. She had to go back to St Jarlath’s Crescent every night and, even though Muttie and Lizzie had allowed her a fair amount of freedom, it still wasn’t the same as having your own place.

‘You could come and live here,’ Tom had told her more than once.

‘I’d only end up doing their ironing and lifting their smelly socks off the floor.’

‘That’s probably true,’ Tom had agreed with reluctance.

He had never been short of girlfriends but took none of them seriously. He had a way of looking at people that seemed to suggest no one else in the world existed. He was interested in the most trivial things people told him and he was afraid of no one. He was kind to his rather difficult parents but it never meant that he missed any of the fun. When they all wanted to go to a black tie event in one of the big Dublin hotels, none of them could afford to hire dress suits; but Tom had a friend who worked in a dry-cleaners. It had been dangerous and dramatic and at least four jobs were on the line, but as Tom said cheerfully, nobody lost and everybody won.

They had been talking about Scarlet Feather from the earliest days. No other form of catering had interested either of them; while their friends wanted to do hotel work, work on cruise liners, be celebrity restaurant chefs, write books and be on television, Tom and Cathy had this dream of serving top-grade food in people’s homes. As Ireland became progressively more affluent, they felt sure this was the right way to go.

They worked together in restaurants to get the feel for the kind of food people liked. Cathy was amused at how casually Tom took the compliments and the come-on glances directed his way. Even the stern Brenda Brennan in Quentin’s was sometimes heard to say she wished she were twenty years younger.

Had Cathy fancied him herself in those days? Well, yes, of course, in a sort of way. It would have been impossible not to. And it might well have come to something. She smiled at the recollection.

They had planned to go to Paris on a very cheap flight. They had listed the restaurants they would visit: some to admire from the window, one to tour the kitchens because a fellow student had got a job there; and two where they might actually eat dinner.

They had never been to Paris before. They discussed it, heads close together over maps, night after night. Once they got there, they would walk here, take the Metro there; this museum would be open, that one closed – but it was mainly the food they were going to investigate.

They hadn’t exactly said that this was the trip when they might become lovers. But it was in the air. Cathy had her legs waxed and bought a very expensive lacy slip. They had been all set to leave on a Friday afternoon and then that morning three things happened.

Lizzie Scarlet fell off a ladder in Oaklands while hanging Hannah Mitchell’s curtains and was taken to hospital by ambulance.

Tom was offered a weekend’s work at Quentin’s because Patrick’s sous chef had let them down.

Cathy was called to interview for a job cooking in a Greek villa for the summer.

They told themselves and each other that Paris would always be there.

Cathy went to the Greek island to cook and met Neil Mitchell, a guest in the villa who kept putting off his return home to be with her.

And Tom met Marcella Malone.

And even though Paris was always there, it remained unvisited by Cathy Scarlet and Tom Feather.

She sometimes wondered about that weekend and what would have happened. But if they had been lovers, even for a short time, it would have been hard to forget once they were serious business partners in a thriving enterprise. And this way they brought no history with them. Nothing that could make either Neil or Marcella in any way uneasy.

Cathy heard a key turn in the door.

‘Where are the twins?^^she called.

‘They’re in the car,’ Neil answered sheepishly. ‘You knew they were coming? Mother said you did, but I didn’t really believe her, to be honest.’ His face was alight now, as if he had expected a protest. ‘And you don’t mind?’

‘I didn’t say that. But you had to bring them. How was Jonathan?’

‘It looks as though it’s going to be okay.’

‘Well done.’

‘It was a group effort, teamwork,’ he said, as he always did. ‘I’ll get the twins – you’re a hero.’

‘For a few days I’ll be one – they’re not too easy to handle, are they? Did it get sorted out at Oaklands?’

‘No way, a big shouting match with Mother before they left, right down to the “someone has to look after us” line, which is only too bloody true, poor things.’

‘Wheel them in.’

She watched them coming up the steps, muttering to each other that it was a much smaller house, asking each other if Neil and Cathy had children, wondering was there a television in the bedroom. Cathy forced herself to remember that they were nine and frightened. They had been abandoned by their father, mother and brother, their aunt had thrown them out.

‘This is the Last Chance Saloon,’ she said pleasantly as they came in. ‘You have one small bedroom between you with no television. We have a very stern policy on bathrooms here, leaving them clean but not overflowing for the next person, and there’s an endless amount of please and thank you going on but apart from that you’ll have a great time.’

They looked at her doubtfully.

‘The food is terrific, for one thing,’ she added.

‘That’s for sure,’ said Neil.

‘Did you marry her because she was a good cook?’ Simon asked. ‘Or did it just turn out that she was a good cook?’ wondered Maud.

‘And my name is Cathy Scarlet. I am married to your cousin Neil so from now on I won’t be referred to as “she” or “her”, is that very clear?’

‘Why don’t you have Neil’s name if you’re married to him?’ Maud wanted everything cleared up.

‘Because I am a woman of fiercely independent nature, and I need my own name for my work,’ Cathy explained. This seemed to satisfy them.

‘Right, could we see the room?’ Simon said.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Cathy was icy.

He repeated it; she still looked at him questioningly.

He got it. ‘I mean, please can we see the room. Thank you.’ He looked pale and tired; they both did. It had been a long day: there had been nothing but dramas and recriminations. Their parents had disappeared, their future was uncertain, the boy had been sick all over the carpet in Oaklands, they had destroyed the kitchen ceiling and they would never be allowed back there again.

‘Come on, then, I’ll show you,’ she said.

‘How did you get on today,’ Neil asked eventually when the children were asleep and they had time to talk to each other. She was by now almost too tired to tell him about it.

It was exactly what we want – perfect place, perfect location, room to park the van… But we have to wait. Patience is what’s needed apparently.’

The days crawled by after that. They waited and waited. And then finally, ‘James Byrne here, Ms Scarlet.’

‘Mr Byrne?’ They were being formal; she was too nervous to call him James.

I said I would try to come back to you within four days, and I’m very pleased to say that I have.’ He sounded well pleased with himself.

‘Thank you so much, but—’

‘Mr Feather’s answering machine was on, and you did say that it was fine to call either of you.’

‘Please, is there any news?’ Cathy wanted to scream at him for his slow, precise way of talking.

‘Yes, I have been authorised to act for the Maguire family.’

‘So?’

‘So, they are going to accept your offer, subject to—’

‘They’re not going to go to auction… They might have got more at an auction.’

‘They and I have discussed this, and with the estate agents too, but they would prefer an immediate sale.’

‘Mr Byrne, what do we do now?’

‘You’ll tell Mr Feather, I imagine, Ms Scarlet, and then you both get your lawyer and your bank, and then we go to contract.’

‘Mr Byrne?’ Cathy interrupted.

‘Yes Ms Scarlet?’

‘I love you, Mr Byrne,’ Cathy said without pausing. ‘I love you more than you will ever know.’

And everything began to move very quickly after that. Too quickly. Cathy looked back on the first three days of the year as if they had been in slow motion. Now she realised that there were not enough minutes in any hour to cope with all that had to be done. And she usually needed to be in three places at the same time. When she was sitting with Geraldine and the bank manager, she should have been meeting Tom and his father at the builder’s yard. When she was making the four apple strudels for Mrs Ryan, the nervous woman she had met at Oaklands, she should have been having a medical at the insurance company, and when she should have been at the solicitor’s going over every clause of the contract of sale, she was making spaghetti bolognese for Maud and Simon Mitchell, who were proving to be a nightmare.

At this of all times she appeared to have taken charge of a boy and a girl that she had never met before. Cathy, who knew all her uncles and aunts and cousins in great depth, barely had time to wonder why Kenneth and Kay weren’t part of the extended family scene.

‘He’s got no visible means of support,’ Neil said. ‘He says he’s in business, but no one quite knows what it is.’

‘You mean like
my
father going to work, as he calls visiting the bookies, and meeting his associates, as he calls the others who hang out there?’