by Maeve Binchy
They were delighted to see her back, and made a great fuss. Nobody said anything about it all being for the best, they said how much they missed her and how hard they had worked.
'So what's new?'
'A couple aged about a hundred who want to get married next month and can't find a venue to suit them,' June said, taking out a file.
'How old are they really?'
'Ancient,' June said.
'Well, we can't all be seventeen-year-old brides,' Cathy laughed.
'Probably wiser not to be,' June sighed.
'How about the church hall?' Cathy asked.
'Too big for them, they don't know how many people they're going to invite. Fifty maybe; but they think it might only be about twenty-four.'
'They're not very flush with friends, are they?' Cathy asked.
'They were the nicest couple I ever met,' Tom said simply. 'They're coming in today, you'll love them.'
Tom was right. Stella O'Brien and Sean Clery were indeed the nicest people you could meet. Aged in their mid-fifties, they had met a year ago at a beginners' bridge class. They were both still utterly hopeless at bridge, but devoted to each other. There was a problem.
'Isn't there always a problem about a wedding,' Cathy said sympathetically.
This one centred around Sean's three children and Stella's two children. People who did not look forward to the nuptials. Stella's son and daughter assumed their mother would remain a widow, look after her grandchildren when they came along and leave them her house. Sean's three daughters had assumed that their father would remain a widower and would eventually move out of his house which could be sold and the money divided between the girls. They would move him from one of their homes to the other, none of them having him for more than four months a year. The couple didn't tell all this to Cathy, of course, it just emerged in the conversation. She nodded and listened and accepted what kind of places wouldn't do and why.
'This must seem very odd to you, Miss Scarlet. I mean, all you young people must live a normal, uncomplicated life where everything works like clockwork,' Stella apologised.
'Absolutely not, I didn't know on the morning of my wedding day if anyone except five friends and my aunt would turn up.' 'Tell us more than that did,' Sean begged. 'Yes, my mother and father came, and the few relations I had who didn't emigrate. Most of Neil's didn't, apart from his mother and father who were like two icebergs, but the friends made up for it. I look back on it and I think it was a fine day. You will too. Tell me where would you really like to have it, and we'll see if we can work out something around that.'
'Do you know Holly's hotel in Wicklow?' Stella began. 'Yes indeed,' Cathy said. It was where she had told Neil about the baby. What a long, long time ago that seemed now. 'They don't do weddings there, sadly, we did ask, but would you know somewhere a bit like that?' Cathy looked at Stella O'Brien, who had put a deposit on a dress at Haywards and who was so happy for the world to share her pleasure in meeting Sean Clery over a green-baize table. She looked at Sean Clery, who had bought her a gold ring with a Celtic design, and kept lifting her hand to admire it.
'I'll find you something like that hotel,' she promised.
'You are a very kind girl,' they assured her.
Cathy, who had shaken her head twice at the suggestion that she might talk to Maud and Simon on the phone, knew this wasn't true. A kind person would have spoken to those two children, but she really couldn't face them. Yet. She still felt a bit jittery, and wondered had she in fact come back to work too early.
'Anyone need the van for a couple of hours?' she asked.
She knew Tom's face so well, she could read on it that he was worried if she was fit to drive… But if he thought it, he didn't show it.
'Sure…' he said, and threw her the keys.
Cathy drove south to Wicklow. A beautiful autumn day, it was wonderful to get out of the city. She looked at the tape selection to see what was on offer. Pop groups she had never heard of, some Irish traditional music, a country and western tape and favourite arias. She put on the last one, and turned up the volume to lose herself and sang along to Pavarotti's swelling voice. The music made her sad. She thought again of the child who hadn't made it to getting born and the tears poured down her cheeks. Would she ever stop weeping? She sang louder to try and stop crying. At traffic lights, a man in the next car smiled at her.
'What are you singing?' he asked, looking at her admiringly.
'Nessun dorma… None shall sleep,' she said. 'Possibly too true in terms of my singing.'
'You're lovely,' he said. 'Fancy a drink in Ashford?'
'No thanks, but you are sweet to ask,' she said.
She felt fifteen years younger, like a kid out of school. She drove on to Holly's hotel.
'I can't do it, Ms .Scarlet, we don't have the resources,' Miss Holly said.
'They're the nicest people you ever met. You and I have to deal with such awful people in our work.'
'I know, Ms Scarlet, but I have three waitresses who are as old as myself, we can't take on weddings.'
'Let me do it, Miss Holly. We'll rent the place from you, we'll be in and out, you won't know we were ever here.'
'Are they family, or are they blackmailing you?'
'I never met them until this morning, but to tell you the truth I've not been well. I had a miscarriage, and in fact today's my first day back at work and I'm feeling a bit vulnerable. They were so bloody nice, and they said they wanted a place as like this as possible… And you know I love it here, so I know what they mean.' She was afraid her voice sounded a bit choked.
'And you do like it here, you and your husband?'
'We love it, it's our great treat, it's a place that works magic for us.'
'It didn't last time,' Miss Holly said.
'What do you mean?'
'Last time you and your husband were talking about the baby at dinner. Betty, one of the waitresses told me.'
'Yes, that's true, but we haven't actually told anyone else…'
'And neither have we. I'll let you have the place for the meal, Ms Scarlet.'
'You'll never regret it, Miss Holly.'
'Now all we have to do is think of the food for Stella and Sean,' Cathy said when she was back at the premises.
'What do you mean? We have to get a venue first, and it's so hard, given all the limitations.'
'Oh, that's all organised,' Cathy said, her eyes dancing.
'No, come on, I know you're superwoman, but we've been three days trying places… Nowhere suits.'
'Miss Holly said yes.'
'You drove down there today?'
'Yup,' said Cathy.
'I thought we could manage without her, Tom, but it turns out I was wrong,' said June.
'Are you going on a honeymoon?' Cathy asked Stella O'Brien.
'We hadn't thought of it. The wedding itself is such a big thing. Once we have that sorted…'
'I've sorted it all out, Stella. Miss Holly will let us do it in her place, so why don't you book in there for a honeymoon of three or four nights?'
'It's so peaceful, such a happy place to stay.' Stella O'Brien had tears in her eyes. 'It was a lucky day that we phoned your company,' she said.
'How did you hear of us, actually?' Cathy always liked to know.
'Last Easter I won a raffle at the school where I work, and the prize was to have a manicure at Haywards, and this very pretty girl said that her fiance ran a catering company and gave me your card… So when Sean and I decided to get married… there you were in our address book. I'd really like to thank her.'
'Ah yes. Yes, indeed.'
'There's a problem about the girl, is there?'
'She and Tom aren't together any more… that's all. Now, what kind of music would you like?'
'I beg your pardon?'
'For the wedding. Will we have a pianist or an accordionist… Or would you prefer a music centre? Tom can organise that, no trouble, and put on all the CDs you want.'
&nb
sp; Stella's voice dropped. I'm going to confide in you, I'd be afraid we might look silly if we had music. Sean had a very quiet wedding first time round, his wife was a kind of recluse I think. He's just dying for fun and excitement, he doesn't have an idea of how much his children resent us marrying. I don't think that any of those girls are going to come to the wedding.'
Cathy laid her hand on Stella's. 'They'll come just to see it. Believe me, they won't be able to let their father get married without coming to watch it. They'll be there… Will yours?'
'My son will be there. My daughter, I don't know.'
'Bet you any money she will,' said Cathy.
'Not a word from those children,'Muttie said.
' I suppose they have such a great life up at The Beeches, they wouldn't have the time for us any more.' Lizzie was both humble and philosophical.
'Cathy said you wouldn't ask an ordinary rat to live at The Beeches,'Muttie grumbled.
'Yes, but you know the way Cathy goes on about the Mitchells in general,' Lizzie explained.
'They didn't come last Saturday, and never a solitary word out of them,'Muttie said, very upset.
'Well, I rang Cathy and she said they were grown-up enough to make up their own minds,' Lizzie said.
'There was so much we had to do, to arrange,'Muttie said. T don't believe it was anything to do with being grown-up at all, I think they didn't have their bus fare, that's what I think.'
'Well don't go saying that,' Lizzie ordered.
'Of course I won't,' said Muttie, who then sat down and wrote a letter to Master Simon and Miss Maud Mitchell at The Beeches.
'Just in case there's a problem about transport between our residences, I enclose £5 (five pounds). We are always here… M. and L. Scarlet.'
'Walter?'
'Yes, Father?'
'Has that… er… social worker been in touch about anything?'
'Don't think so, why?'
'I realise the twins didn't go up to Mr Muttie, or whatever he's called, at the Jarlath's place last Saturday.'
'Well, I suppose they got tired of it.'
'I don't think they had any money for the fare, as it happened.'
'Did they just spend their pocket money, Father? Was that it?'
'They didn't really get any pocket money, you see, old Barty actually left me a bit short.'
'Oh, God, Father, be very, very careful. That Sara and Cathy, those two are real ball-breakers.'
'I know. Let's keep a watch.'
Walter picked up the mail. There was an odd-looking letter from someone to the children. Walter opened it carefully. It might be something about this ridiculous arrangement, he and his father should be forewarned. He found the fiver and pocketed it. He put the letter and envelope into the fire.
Jock Mitchell called at The Beeches. The twins were doing their homework at the table.
'Where's your dad?' he asked.
They told him that Father's friend old Barty had rung up and sorted out an old quarrel, and so Father had gone off to meet him in order to celebrate the fight being over.
'And your mother?'
Apparently Mother had got upset when Father went to meet old Barty. And she had gone down to the shops. Jock Mitchell didn't like the notion of his sister-in-law going down to the shops. That's how the drinking had started before, she just went to one particular section of the supermarket.
'And everything all right here, is it?'
The twins looked at each other and nodded their doubtful agreement that everything was all right. Uncle Jock didn't come to see them often; he might not come again for months. No point in hoping he'd come in regularly, as someone to keep an eye on things.
'Did you come to see Father, Uncle Jock?'
'No, I came to see where Walter keeps his computer, actually.'
The twins supposed it must be in his bedroom. But that was locked.
'He says he uses it every night, that's why he took it from the office.'
Maud and Simon looked at each other. They had never heard the sound of any computer, nor seen one coming into the house. But they knew it was better to give no information at all, so they looked blankly at their uncle. They were funny little things. He wished Hannah had taken to them more. They could have come to Oaklands and played on the swings around the big trees… It didn't look as if that hard-working son of his and his equally career-minded wife were going to produce any grandchildren for them in a hurry, and Manda had told them that in her case it wasn't a starter either. But no point in complicating things; Kenneth had always been an odd fellow, and his wife very unstable from day one. Wiser to stay well away from them and their children. Jock sighed: he had definitely failed to do this in the case of Walter. There was no way of getting him into any kind of shape in the office now. Neil, always the champion of the underdog, had unexpectedly advised him to throw the boy out. Jock suspected that Walter had stolen the computer and sold it. But he had no proof, and it didn't look as if he were going to get any this evening from his visit to The Beeches.
'Will we say you called to see Walter?' Simon asked.
'Or should we just say nothing at all?' asked Maud.
' I think we should say nothing at all,' Jock said.
He contemplated giving them a couple of pounds each, as one had done to children long ago. But maybe it was patronising nowadays, and there was in operation a very firm agreement about everything, including pocket money. Maybe it would just throw things out of kilter. So he just rattled the coins as the children looked at him hopefully, and then said goodbye.
Geraldine had dinner at Quentin's with Nick Ryan. Brenda Brennan just nodded her head politely to her as they came in. No one would know that the women were friends. Some men felt threatened if they thought that their date was better known in the restaurant than they were. Geraldine admired that kind of professionalism. She practised it herself. Before this dinner she had read up a great deal about the dry-cleaning business in Ireland. He was a very pleasant man. Not afraid to pay a compliment. Also, he was upfront about everything, which she particularly liked. He said it was a treat for him to go out to dinner with a glamorous lady, normally at this time of the evening he was letting himself in the door at home and groaning to his wife about the day at the office and coping with two fairly difficult children. Geraldine nodded her understanding of this. All children were difficult, anyone who said otherwise wasn't a serious parent. This made him feel good, and also the way Geraldine seemed to accept the existence of a wife and family in the life of a man she was having dinner with. She looked, as always, perfectly groomed, and much younger than her years. She answered questions about herself in a practised, easy way, not giving very much away but still telling enough to make a picture of a woman with a working-class background who had worked hard to get where she had arrived. She made it very clear that she wasn't trying to get married and settle down. That she preferred a very independent life at this stage, and liked to see a great variety of friends.
'And you do have a lot of friends. I was very impressed at your party,' he said. 'Very pleasant gathering indeed.'
I'm glad you enjoyed it, I hope you met a lot of people,' Geraldine said. It was far too soon in their relationship to tell him all that went on behind the scenes at the party, the bath towels, Doctor Said, Cathy being taken in an ambulance to the hospital.
'To be very honest, I wasn't all that interested in meeting other people,' he said.
'That's very flattering,' Geraldine said.
'And very sincere,' said Nick Ryan.
' I don't know how Geraldine does it,' Brenda Brennan said to her husband Patrick in the kitchen. 'She has yet another rich, handsome businessman out there purring at her and pawing the ground.'
'Ah, but she didn't get a safe and steady and reliable husband, like you did,' Patrick consoled her.
' I know.' Brenda's tone didn't seem to suggest somehow that she had won out in this comparison.
'Or a passionate, creative, temperamental chef like
myself,' he suggested.
That was more like it. 'Indeed she did not,' said Brenda, pleased.
Mrs Barry wouldn't be at The Beeches for a while; she was going away to her daughter's for three weeks' holiday.
'The press is full of tins of things there for you, and the milkman is paid to the end of the month.'
'Thank you, Mrs Barry.'
'And you know… you know your mother's not well. She should have a doctor. I'll ring Sara and let her know.'
'No, Mrs Barry, we'll ring Sara,' Maud said.
'We have other things to tell her, so we'll tell her about Mother not being well.'
'Good. That's all right then, she'll be round to see to things.'
Maud and Simon didn't ring Sara. It only upset everyone when Sara came in; it was fine for five minutes, but when she left everyone and everything got worse. Better for her not to come at all. And when she called to know was everything all right, they said it was all just fine.
Sara met Neil at the big public lecture on homelessness.
'Glad it's all going all right at The Beeches,' she said.
'Oh, is it? Good,' he said.
'You haven't been there recently, then?' she asked.
'No; there have been a few other things on our minds. Listen, I have to tell you because you're one of the few people that knew she was pregnant; Cathy had a miscarriage.'
'Oh, I am sorry,' Sara said.
'Yes, but nobody, least of all the twins or any of the family knows a thing about it so, of course...'
'Of course not.'
'And in many ways, of course…' Neil began.
' I know, in many ways it could be for the best at this particular time, you could still take that job abroad now.'
' I may not go forward for it,' Neil said.
'Still, there's an awful lot of work to be done at home,' Sara said, pleased that he was not going away. She looked at him with undisguised admiration.
