Scarlet Feather

by Maeve Binchy

  'Don't talk to me about wrong ends of sticks, you told me all about it, you spoke about it in front of me—what was I meant to think?'

  'What are we meant to think, Walter? You describe the wages we give you as a pittance, you don't enjoy the work. How were we meant to be inspired with the idea that you want to work at the Hayes silver wedding?'

  'Oh, this is what it's all about. It was a joke, it's what people do, they make jokes. They don't expect people to take a light-hearted remark seriously. But now I see it's a matter of bowing down to the ground and thanking you from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of being allowed to work with you.'

  Tom thought that Cathy had been gone for an age, how long could one lunch take? Was she ever coming back?

  In the restaurant, Cathy looked at Neil across the table.

  'The job? The one they were going to offer you abroad?'

  'Yes, and still are. You and I sort of got started on it the wrong way. I wanted to tell you what it's all about.'

  'Do,' she said.

  'No, not if you're going to put on that clipped tone with me.'

  'Neil, I said tell me about it.'

  'Please don't let's begin by being so hostile about it.'

  'I have no idea how to ask you to tell me about this job without apparently insulting you or offending you, so why don't you just please tell me all about it?'

  Just then, of course, they had to order. Neil was uncaring about what he ate, but Cathy wanted to taste different things, so she spent time making the choices.

  'It doesn't matter,' he said when the waitress asked if they would like a cocktail.

  'I'd love one of those silvery things over there with the frosting on the glass,' Cathy said.

  'Why do you want that?' Neil was amazed.

  'We're doing this silver wedding. You know, I told you all about it. This drink might be just the thing,' she said.

  And she waited while he told her about the chance to change the whole thrust of immigration law. It was new and exciting, and it would be so great to be in on the ground floor when it was happening, and it mattered so much. And when all came to all there was only so much individuals could do on the ground in their own countries. What was needed was a proper policy up and running in the international institutions, not something that was controlled by politicians whose own interests could change, but by lawyers and social workers who cared. Cathy listened. Too often countries with perfectly good records on civil liberties looked the other way when there was oil involved, or if they were selling arms to the area, or if they were conscious of votes at home depending on the number of foreigners you let into your country. This agency would be above all that, it would be international, it would change the thinking of the world.

  'Where from?' Cathy asked.

  'Initially The Hague,' he said.

  'You want us to live in Holland?'

  'There will be travel, of course, and you can come with me, that's all agreed. You'll see places, Cathy, places that you never dreamed of.'

  'What will you do every day, Neil? Try to give me a picture of how the day would break down.' Her voice felt disembodied; she needed to buy time to think about this. He really and truly did want to go, and expected that she would drop everything and go with him. She didn't listen as he struggled to paint a picture of how he saw their days shaping out. She wondered instead if anyone truly knew anyone else. This man opposite her who had defied his parents with icy indifference to their arguments when they had objected to his marrying her, now wanted to uproot her from the business she had slaved to form and take her away to be some kind of diplomat's wife. She heard words somewhere around her in the air as she tasted the bread which was ordinary and the tomato butter which was over the top. The silvery cocktail was a disaster -they would not even suggest it for the Hayes celebration.

  'You're very quiet,' Neil said eventually.

  I'm thinking about it, letting it all sink in.'

  'I knew you would, if we had time. Back in Waterview you had boxing gloves up in the air in confrontation, your-job-my-job sort of thing. It's not about that, it's about our life.'

  'Yes, yes.' She spoke almost dreamily.

  'What do you mean, Cathy?'

  'Well, you're right, it is about life. Would you go without me, on your own, to live your life out there, just suppose I couldn't go?'

  'But that's not what we're talking about. You can go if you want to,' he was bewildered.

  I'm trying to work out how you see your life. Would you go alone?'

  'No, I wouldn't do that. You know that, don't you?'

  I'm just asking. So you'd stay here and go on with the way things are?' she insisted.

  'Yes, but, well… Yes, I suppose.'

  'I see.'

  'But it's not like that, Cathy. You can go, and believe me, I know you'll love it. They want you to come out with me for a week. Very soon, just to see first-hand where we'd be living and the kind of work that's involved. Cathy, you love a challenge, it's written all over you…'

  'We need a lot more discussion about this. A lot more,' she said, her voice still sounding unreal in her own ears.

  'Of course we do.' He patted her hand.

  Neil seemed to think the conversation had gone well. He called for the bill and they left. Cathy had parked the van precariously on a corner. She saw a traffic warden looking in its direction, and raced her to the vehicle.

  'I won,' she laughed, clambering into the driving seat.

  'What's Scarlet Feather… is it a mattress?' the traffic warden asked.

  'It's the best catering company in Ireland,' Cathy said, and got the van into gear and away from there at speed.

  To their surprise, Walter was installed at the premises and Cathy noticed that Tom was looking hassled.

  'Hey, are you better?' Neil asked Walter.

  'Yeah, I'm okay,' Walter said, shrugging.

  'What was wrong?' Cathy asked.

  'He had a fall and hurt his back,' Neil explained. 'Dad was telling me this morning. He's been out of the office a week.'

  Tom and Cathy looked at each other. They knew there had been no fall, but they said nothing. At that moment the phone rang. It was Mrs Hayes. They had decided they wanted two waiters for Wednesday. One to stay entirely behind the bar, the other to go round and refresh drinks. Would that be any problem?

  'No problem at all, Mrs Hayes, it will be done straight away.' Tom hung up. He turned round to look at Walter. 'Usual pittance Wednesday, Walter, turn up here at six-thirty to help stack the van, no money up front, no need to hire a dinner jacket, you already have one. Okay?'

  'Okay,' Walter said smiling. 'I knew you really meant me to work.'

  'No we didn't, the situation just changed. We have Con, who is our waiter for Wednesday, you're just the back-up. That's if your own back will be all right by then?'

  'Are you going back to the Four Courts?' Walter asked his cousin Neil. 'If you are, I'd love a lift.'

  'Are you back at work then?' Neil was confused.

  'No, but I have to see someone down that area.'

  Tom was relieved that Walter was going to go. 'Did you two have a good lunch?' he asked.

  'No. Breads we tried, and boy did we try them… Weren't anything compared to yours, Tom,' Cathy said cheerfully. And Neil muttered agreement.

  'Great news.' Tom was pleased. 'The show can stay on the road for another few weeks, then.'

  When they were gone Cathy sat down and looked at him. 'Sorry, Tom.'

  'About what? We know Walter's a little shit, but they want two…'

  'Not about that, about lying to you, about saying Neil was at the opera when he wasn't.'

  'Oh, that…' Tom appeared to have forgotten it totally.

  But she went on. It was stupid, but you knew how much I was looking forward to it and I suppose I just… didn't want you to think he'd let me down.'

  Tom seemed to think she was making heavy weather of it all. 'Poor Neil couldn't face all the screeching
when it came to it, was it? Can't say I blame him.'

  Muttie had planned the surprise for weeks. And he wanted as many people to witness it as possible. So he asked Cathy and Neil if they could drop in about six o'clock on Tuesday, and Geraldine. It didn't really suit anyone, but they all made an effort. The little black Labrador puppy was going to be in the house already hidden on newspapers up in the bedroom. And then the conversation would be brought around gradually to dogs. Maud and Simon would say yet again how much they'd love a puppy, and Muttie would say excuse me, I think we do have one for you. Lizzie would say that it's nonsense, there couldn't possibly be a dog in the house without her knowing, and then Muttie would produce the little fellow…

  It didn't suit Cathy because she and Tom had to collect their dishes from the Riordan ladies' lunch in order to use them again for the Hayes silver wedding. Sometime they would have enough china and ovenproof dishes not to have to call everything in, but not yet. It didn't suit Geraldine because Freddie Flynn said he might be able to call round to the Glenstar apartment for an hour or two after work. But there was something magical about the thought of Muttie and this pedigree dog which had cost him over a hundred pounds. So they all tried to fit it in. Lizzie would hurry back from her last cleaning job of the day. Geraldine told Freddie that she'd be a little delayed but would be back at the apartment by 6.45. Neil said he'd try to be there, but he'd have to be out of St Jarlath's Crescent by 6.30, just so long as everyone knew. Cathy said that she and Tom could call there for a while before they went to pick up the dishes at Mrs Riordan's.

  Is something happening?' Simon asked when they all sat down at the kitchen table.

  'Why do you say that?' Lizzie asked.

  'Well, everyone here's sort of waiting,' said Simon.

  'No, Simon, we're sitting round a table having tea.'

  Cathy continued her attempt to improve the twins' manners. 'And making general conversation rather than centring everything on ourselves. That's what people do, you see.'

  'Is everybody all right for sugar and milk?' Maud said obediently.

  Muttie cleared his throat. 'There's nothing better than a family sitting down round a table,' he began. 'All over Dublin there's people sitting down to their tea now, watched by their cats and their budgies and their dogs.' He looked around him proudly, as if this was a perfectly normal remark to make out of the blue… He waited, but the children said nothing. They looked at him solemnly.

  Tom felt he had to fill in the gap in the conversation. 'You've got a point there,Muttie, a family could be watched by all kinds of things, a hamster, a rabbit, well, from its hutch if the angle was right, and a dog, of course.'

  Still not a word from Maud and Simon.

  Muttie was desperate now. 'But there was never a dog in this house, of course, not having been in the past a family of dog lovers.'

  'No, that's right,' Lizzie shouted as if reading lines from a play. Then the twins leaped up.

  It is,' cried Simon.

  I knew it,' shouted Maud, and they were out of the room in a flash and up the stairs towards the main bedroom. There were sounds of barks and screams and snuffles, and then they arrived carrying the puppy. It looked like a toy, all black fur and wagging tail and panting breath.

  'It's beautiful,' said Maud.

  'It's a he, I looked.' Simon was holding the puppy and looking again in case there should be any misunderstanding.

  Is it for us?' Simon asked, hardly daring to hope.

  'It's for the pair of you,'Muttie said gruffly.

  'To keep for ever?' Maud said, unbelieving.

  'Sure, of course.'

  'We've never had an animal, a real animal,' Simon said.

  'There was a tortoise at The Beeches but he went away,' Maud said. 'And you know we were hoping you might get a dog. And only today…'

  'We heard it whimpering inside the door,' Simon took up the story.

  'And I said maybe it was a puppy.' Maud wanted to show how bright she had been in identifying the dog.

  'And I said yes,Muttie could have got himself a puppy, but also it could be just some old person groaning and grunting on the floor of Muttie's bedroom and we'd better not go in.' Simon also needed praise for the great control that he had shown.

  'But we never knew it was for us,' Maud said.

  For ever,' Simon said.

  Cathy realised that this was the moment when the twins actually changed their personality. And everyone else seemed to think the same. The way they stroked it and laughed aloud at its antics would melt the hardest heart. They had the little animal on the table now, flopping about on its fat little paws. Tom put a newspaper under him, just in time, and people hastily took their cups of tea and biscuits away.

  'He just beautiful,' said Maud again.

  'And he's very intelligent, too. Did you find him on the street or somewhere?' Simon asked innocently.

  'Aw, well, I sort of went out and chose him, you see, he's yours now, he's for the two of you,'Muttie said, beaming all over his face.

  'Dad went out to a kennels and bought him for you,' Cathy said proudly.

  'And Lizzie went out to work so that she could pay for the vet's fees for injections and everything…' said Geraldine.

  'And we'll show you now how to train him,' said Lizzie.

  'You just keep pulling the newspapers nearer the door every day, well, that's what they used to do at Oaklands.'

  'And what are you going to call him?' Tom wanted to know.

  The puppy looked up as if interested to know as well. 'Hooves,' said Simon, and Maud nodded eagerly. There was a silence.

  'Hooves Mitchell,' Maud elaborated, in case they hadn't understood.

  'Yes Maud, but normally dogs don't get called by their surname, so he'll just be Hooves for most of the time, okay,' Cathy said.

  'Okay,' said Maud.

  'And… umm… why exactly did you think of this… um… interesting name?' Tom voiced everyone's thoughIs.

  The children were surprised that they didn't understand something so obvious. 'It's what Muttie always says is the best thing in the world… the thundering hooves that match your heartbeat,' said Simon.

  Muttie blew his nose very loudly.

  'And when they're off…' said Maud, 'then the sound of those hooves touches your soul.'

  Neil called Cathy on the mobile just as they were leaving.

  'I'm so sorry.'

  'It doesn't matter, Neil, nobody expected you to be there, and it was great, they just love the puppy…'

  'That's what I was calling about, Cathy. They can't go on living in this fool's paradise. Uncle Kenneth is back cleaning up The Beeches, Kay is getting out of hospital at the weekend… This can't last here, all this make-believe.'

  'It's not make-believe, it's a home. What kind of a home is that uncle of yours making for children?'

  'According to Dad and Walter, who've been dragged in to help, not too bad a fist of it. Walter even suggested that they get some food from you for the freezer.'

  'I'll tell them what to do with food for the freezer,' Cathy said.

  'Cathy please, we'll talk later.'

  'Sure.'

  Geraldine was leaving then too.

  'Sorry I can't stay longer, Cathy, Freddie's coming round for a drink. I was going to cook an elegant dinner for him tomorrow night—he usually drops by on a Wednesday, but he has to go to some do, poor love.'

  'No, I'm leaving too. Listen, do you want some posh canapes? I have a box in the van.'

  'You're an angel, just the thing.'

  Geraldine was gone in minutes, her smart red car taking the corner of St Jarlath's Crescent sharpish.

  Tom came out then, and they got into the van. 'Wasn't it fabulous to see their faces,' he said.

  'Yeah.'

  'What is it?'

  She told him.

  'The courts, the social workers?' Tom began.

  'Love the biological parenIs, apparently.'

  'Even if they're fruitcakes?'

/>   'So it seems.'

  'You'll miss them,' he said simply.

  'I'll miss them, certainly—but can you see Muttie walking that floppy hound called Hooves round for the rest of his life? He'll be devastated.'

  'Won't they take it with them? The dog?'

  'No—those two would freak if they had to cope with a dog as well as children.'

  'But surely they'll go on visiting St Jarlath's Crescent a lot?'

  'Kenneth Mitchell's son, going to a working-class area? Never! They'd be afraid they'd learn a common accent and get fleas!'

  'It's just not fair,' Tom said. They were driving up to the Riordans' house as he said this. There were definite sounds of a party.

  'There's another thing that's not fair,' Cathy said. 'They swore they'd be finished by five o'clock, now what will we do?'

  'Leave it to me,' Tom said.

  'Oh, I'll leave it to you willingly, but you're not going to go in and take Mr Riordan by the neck and shout at him about being Mr Family Man, are you?'

  'No, this is a different task altogether. Stay in the van, have a sleep. It might take half an hour.'

  She heard Tom rummaging in the back of the van for something and then saw him running up the steps with a package. Cathy closed her eyes. It had been a long, upsetting day and she was nervous about tomorrow's silver wedding. Still, this was her choice, she must never forget that.

  Mrs Riordan came to the door. She looked at him guiltily. 'Oh, God, is that the time?' she said.

  'Must have been a wonderful party.' Tom nailed his happiest, most enthusiastic smile to his face.

  'What? Yes, they're all in good form.'

  'Can I go in and say hallo to the ladies, I brought them a gift,' he beamed at her.

  'What? Yes, of course, come in.'

  'Good evening, ladies,' he said pleasantly to a group of eleven women who had drunk too much wine but who had also, he was pleased to see, eaten almost all the food provided. I thought you'd like…' he began.

  'A stripper!' screamed one of the women happily.