Scarlet Feather (5 page)

‘Yes, but I have to move all these old coats and scarves and things.’ Maud felt that made things equal. They pushed the coats on to chairs and, mainly, on to the floor.

‘Look, she has all this make-up that mother used to have on her dressing-table before her nerves got bad.’ Maud picked up some lipsticks.

‘What are the black things?’

‘They’re for eyebrows.’

Simon drew heavy dark eyebrows and then a moustache. The sudden ringing out of bells and celebratory shrieks startled him and the pencil broke, so he used another one. Maud put on a dark red lipstick and then used a pinker shade to make little spots on her cheeks. She picked up a cut-glass atomiser and began to spray.

‘Hey, that got in my eye,’ Simon said, picking up what looked like a large can of hair lacquer in retaliation. It turned out to be some kind of mousse. It went all over the dressing-table. ‘What on earth is that?’ he wondered.

It could be shaving cream,’ Maud thought.

‘That must be it. Imagine her wanting that.’

There were long earrings which Maud tried on, but they were for pierced ears, so she went to the bathroom and found some elastoplast. She admired herself. Simon had found a short fur jacket and put it on with a man’s hat. They were bouncing happily on the two large beds with white counterpanes when two women came in.

They gasped when they saw the clothes on the floor; and one of  them screamed when she saw

Simon wearing her recently remodelled mink jacket. Her screams frightened Maud and Simon, who screamed   back and Hannah and Jock came running up the stairs – followed by a small crowd – to find out what had happened. 

Neil was in the kitchen.

‘What in the name of God’s that caterwauling upstairs,’ he asked.

‘Stay out of it, if you investigate, you’ll only become part of it,’ Cathy grinned.

‘But listen to them!’

‘Keep well out of it,’ she warned.

‘We’ll give Jonathan a lift back when the time comes, okay?’ Neil said.

‘The time won’t come for me until everyone else is gone. You should take him home yourself and let me come back under my own steam in the van.’

More voices were raised upstairs.

‘I’d really better go and see what’s happening,’ Neil said, and he was gone.

Jonathan brought some ashtrays into the kitchen and wiped them.

‘Terrible smokers, the older generation,’ Cathy smiled at him.

‘
I’d
like to slip away now, do you think I could get a taxi?’

‘Not on New Year’s Eve, but Neil’s going to drive you home anyway.’

I don’t want to put him out any more.’

‘It won’t put him out at all, but he won’t be able to go for a while. Do you want to use that bike out in the back?’

‘Do you think I could?’ His eyes were full of relief.

‘Certainly. It’s an old one. It used to belong to Neil. Go now, Jonathan, while the third world war is being fought upstairs.’

I suppose I could make things worse and ask if I could have a bed for the night,’ he said with a grin.

‘Now, that’s something I’d like to see,’ Cathy said.

‘Who are the children anyway?’

‘A long story, cousins, children of Neil’s very hopeless uncle and aunt. It’s their first night here.’

It could very well be their last.’

Tom walked on up from the canal, and over and through the Georgian streets and down a lane he had never been down before. And that’s where he saw it. A wrought-iron gate leading into a cobbled courtyard, and what looked like an old coach house that had been converted for some business. He pushed open the iron gate and went up to the door where there seemed to be some kind of notice. It was a piece of cardboard where someone had written For Sale. There was a phone number to contact for details. Bells were ringing all over Dublin, it was midnight, a new year had arrived. Tom peered through the windows. He had found their premises.

Mrs Ryan told Cathy that she was a little the worse for wear. Cathy said the solution was three glasses of water and three small slices of very thin bread and butter, never known to fail. Mrs Ryan ate the bread and drank the water dutifully and pronounced herself fine. Cathy filled the champagne glasses for midnight, and as the bells rang over the city they all toasted each other and sang Auld Lang Syne. Hannah Mitchell looked almost pleased with it all. Cathy decided to let her have her moment, and moved quickly and quietly away from the circle of entwined hands.

She cleared and washed and dried in the kitchen, she packed crates and neatly arranged several little dishes of goodies for Hannah to discover the next day, in the refrigerator. She moved in and out between the kitchen and the van; the bulk of the work was done. Now all she had to worry about was serving more wine, and more coffee. She could scoop the coffee cups away later. She felt tired in every one of her bones. She heard the telephone ring, thank God. Neil’s sister had finally called them. Then she heard Hannah say in tones of disbelief, ‘
Cathy
. You want to talk to Cathy?’ She moved to the hall. Her mother-in-law stood there holding the receiver as if it might be transmitting a disease.

‘It’s for you,’ she said, astounded.

Please let it not be bad news from home, Cathy prayed; may it not be her mother or father taken ill having chicken in a basket at the pub. Or some terrible phone call from Chicago where all her sisters and brothers had gone to live so long ago.

‘Cathy,’ said Tom, ‘I’ve found it.’

‘Found what?’ she asked, not sure whether to be overcome with relief that it wasn’t bad news, or with rage that he had phoned her here.

‘The premises,’ he said. ‘I’ve found the place where Scarlet Feather is going to live.’

The year began in different ways in different houses. Tom Feather woke in Stoneyfield flats with a pain in his shoulders and a stiff neck… The armchair had not been at all comfortable. He got some cold orange juice from the fridge, and fixed a flower to the glass with some sticky tape. He marched straight into the bedroom.

‘Happy New Year to the most beautiful, saintly and forgiving woman in the world,’ he said.

Marcella woke and rubbed her eyes.’ I’m not saintly and forgiving, I’m furious with you,’ she began.

‘But you haven’t denied that you are beautiful, and I have totally forgiven
you
,’ he said happily.

‘What do you mean? There was nothing to forgive
me
for.’ She was very indignant indeed.

‘Quite right, which is why we will say no more about it. I should thank you instead, because last night I found the premises.’

‘You what?’

‘I know it’s all due to you: if you hadn’t behaved so badly and forced me to leave that party, I’d never have found the place. I’ll take you to see it as soon as you’re dressed so drink up that beautiful elegant drink I’ve prepared for you and—’

‘If you think for one moment that I’m going to leap out of bed and—’

‘You’re so right. I do not think that for one moment. Instead I think
I’m
going to leap
into
bed. What a truly great idea.’ and he had his crumpled clothes off as he spoke.

In Neil and Cathy’s house at Waterview the phone rang. ‘It’s your mother, saying all the guests are dead from salmonella,’ Cathy said.

‘More likely to be some shrink saying that you’ve been committed to a mental home for advanced paranoia,’ Neil said, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

I suppose we
could
leave it?’ she said doubtfully.

‘When do we ever?’ Neil replied, reaching down under the bed where the phone was nestling. ‘Anyway it’s probably Tom.’

It wasn’t Tom, it was about Jonathan. Neil was half out of bed.

‘Tell them I’m on my way,’ he was saying.

Cathy put on the coffee as he dressed.

‘No time,’ he was protesting.

‘Listen, I’ve put it in a flask. Take it with you, you can drink it in the car,’ she said.

He came back, took the flask and kissed her. I’m very sorry, hon. I
did
want to go and see this place with you this morning, you know I did.’

I know, this is more important. Go.’

‘And don’t sign anything or accept anything until we’ve had someone take a look at it.’

‘No, Mr Lawyer, you know I won’t!’

‘Now of course I
do
have the address in case this thing ends early. I could come straight there.’

‘It won’t end early, Neil, it will take all day. Go and save him before it’s too late.’

Cathy watched him from the window. As he put the flask down on the frosty ground in order to open the car door, he must have known she would be watching. He waved up at her. Jonathan was lucky that he had Neil Mitchell in his corner. Neil would worry at the case like a dog with a bone, just as he would get a colleague to examine the title deeds of this place, which looked like the perfect premises at last.

JT and Maura Feather woke up in Fatima, a small red-brick house in a quiet road. They used to be workers’ cottages, but the Feathers had noted with disapproval that a lot of trendy younger people were buying. Attracting burglars to the area.

I never thought we’d live to see another year, JT. The Lord must have spared us for some purpose,’ Maura said. She was a tall, thin woman with a long, sad face permanently set in the lines of a sorrowing Madonna bent low by the wickedness of the world.

Her husband was big and broad-shouldered, made strong by years of hard physical work in the building trade. His weather-beaten face had looked the same always.

‘It’s not that we’re really all that old in terms of years, but I know what you mean,’ JT agreed with her. He turned on the tea-making machine between their beds. It had been a gift from Tom. Maura had thought it was more trouble than it was worth, what with remembering to wash the pot and get fresh milk, but it was handy enough not to have to go down to the cold kitchen.

‘Another year begun and not a sign of either of them wanting to do a hand’s turn in the business,’ he sighed heavily.

‘Or settling down in marriage as God intended,’ Maura sniffed.

‘Ah, marriage is a different thing,’ JT said. ‘Anyone can marry or not marry, but no two other boys from this area have a ready-made business to walk into, and you have Joe making girls’ dresses over in London and Tom making cakes and pastries. It would drive you to an early grave.’

Maura hated it when he got grey with worry. ‘Haven’t I told you to stop getting your blood pressure all het up over him,’ she warned. ‘He’s like all young people, just looking out for himself. Just wait until he has a couple of children, then he’ll be round to the door pretty fast wondering can he work in the business.’

‘You may be right,’ JT nodded, but in his heart he didn’t think that he was ever going to see either of his boys ask him to put the words Feather and Son over his builder’s yard.

Muttie Scarlet woke with a start. Something good had happened last night, and he couldn’t remember what it was. Then it came back. He had drawn a horse in the pub sweepstake. That was all. Most people would be pleased about this. But to Muttie, who was a serious betting man, there was no skill or science in that kind of thing.

You just bought a ticket for a raffle and then twenty-one people got a horse, you couldn’t even choose your own animal. He had something called Lucky Daughter. No form, nothing known about it, total outsider, probably had three legs. Lizzie didn’t understand it at all. She had been pleased for him, said he’d have all the thrill of the race without having to put a week’s wages on a horse.

Poor
Lizzie
. It was awful trying to explain anything at all about horses to her. And she was very sure that nothing
she
earned ever ended up at the bookmaker’s. But to be fair, she
did
put the food on the table and didn’t ask him for much from his dole money. Muttie hadn’t known a week’s wages for a long time. He had a bad back. But still and all, it wasn’t too bad to get out of bed and bring
Lizzie
a mug of tea. She’d be going out to people’s houses later to clean, to clear up their New Year’s Eves for them.
Lizzie
was a great support to them all, the children in Chicago and to Cathy. Muttie smiled to himself as he often did over the fast one that their Cathy had done, grabbing Neil the son and heir of Oaklands, Hannah Mitchell’s pride and joy. Even if he hadn’t liked the boy, Muttie would have been overjoyed at that marriage. Just to see the hard, hate-filled face of Hannah at the wedding was vengeance enough for all that she had put poor Lizzie through up in that house. But Neil himself, as it happened, was a grand fellow. You couldn’t meet a nicer lad in a month of Sundays. It was odd the way things turned out, Muttie told himself as he went to make the tea.

Hannah and Jock Mitchell woke at Oaklands.

‘Well,’ said Hannah menacingly. ‘Well, Jock, it’s tomorrow now. You said you’d decide “tomorrow”.’

‘God that was a good party.’ Jock groaned.  I feel it not exactly in my bones, more in the front left-side of my head.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Hannah was terse. ‘But there’s no time to talk about your hangover. We are talking about those children. They are not staying another night in this house.’

‘Don’t be hasty,’ he pleaded.

I’m not being hasty. I was very patient when you and Neil said they had to stay last night. I was a saint out of heaven, not breaking every bone in their bodies when I saw the wreckage they had achieved in here. That jacket of Eileen’s will never clean, you know, never. God knows what they managed to smear into it…’

‘Best thing if it doesn’t. Makes her look like a vole,’ Jock whimpered.

‘You’ve done enough for Kenneth over the years…’

‘That’s not the point.’

It is the point.’

‘No, it’s not, Hannah. Where else can they go? They’re my brother’s children. He seems to have abandoned them.’ He winced with pain.

‘It’s too much,’ Hannah protested. ‘And they were very rude, both of them, no apology, saying I’d said they could have any room and they had chosen this one. Enough to crucify anyone at what was meant to be a party, a celebration.’