Scarlet Feather (39 page)

‘If you had been a wealthy person would you have had a car, do you think?’ Simon asked.

‘Indeed I would, I’d have had a big red Beamer.’Muttie smiled at the thought.

‘What’s that?’ Maud wondered.

‘It’s a
BMW
. But no, to be honest, I’d probably have had a station wagon, a great big thing half the length of the footpath outside,’Muttie said.

‘But there’s only the two of you,’ Simon objected.

‘Ah, but just stop and think of all the people in St Jarlath’s Crescent who’d like a lift somewhere,’Muttie said. ‘You are very kind,Muttie,’ Maud said. ‘You really
deserve
an accumulator,’ Simon agreed.

Walter came home on Saturday evening and found that old Barty was still in residence. The introductions were vague. There seemed to be a bottle of good whiskey on the table which was causing his mother some distress.

‘Father, don’t you think… I mean, weren’t we meant to…’

‘Nonsense, Kay knows well that she’s not drinking and I’m not wandering off, we’re here to give you a home.’

His father sounded quite reached already.

‘The children will be home soon. They might have their private army with them,’ Walter warned.

‘That’s a good point, let’s put this bottle on hold for a while.’ Kenneth tucked it away out of sight. ‘And Walter, since we have you, if you’re going to be out and about I wonder could old Barty have your room? He’s in the small room on the stairs, it’s rather like a boxroom,’ Kenneth began.

‘Oh, no, heavens no, I’m just fine where I am,’ Barty began to bluster.

‘Sorry, Dad. I’ll be here for a few days but then I was hoping to go off to England to the races, I’ll have my room right for you by then.’ He smiled his warm Walter smile. Barty said nonsense, he’d be well gone by then. Kenneth said nonsense, where could Barty go, he’d even lost his beloved car in a card game. Barty said that would all be sorted out soon, he had plenty of chances to win it back. And Walter pulled up a chair at the table with them to discuss how and when… It seemed a subject very dear to his heart.

This time the twins persuaded Muttie to come in and say hallo, very much against his will. But he needn’t have worried about being out of place. Kay Mitchell was already in bed, and the three men at the table looked up, mildly and politely interested.

‘You’ve had supper at… um,’ Kenneth said.

And as Maud and Simon began to tell about all the extra things they had with their sausages, the flat mushrooms and the filled baked potatoes, Kenneth Mitchell’s interest flagged.

‘You’re so kind to look after them so well,’ he said to Muttie, and shook his hand firmly.Muttie opened his hand. A pound coin was there, less than his bus fare home.Muttie’s face flushed a dark red, and the colour went right around his neck.

‘Thank you very much indeed sir,’ he said with great difficulty.

Simon and Maud looked on, stricken. ‘See you next Saturday Muttie,’ Maud said. ‘Thank you for a lovely time.’

‘And for paying for the dancing lessons,Muttie, they can’t have been cheap,’ Simon added.

Muttie was backing out.

‘Do you want to see our rooms,Muttie?’ Maud asked.

‘Another time, Maud, thanks all the same.’

‘Or look at the garden where we could have a kennel if Hooves came to stay,’ Simon begged.

‘Honestly, next visit, Simon, thanks. Good luck to you all,’ and he was gone.

The twins had thought they might do the reel tonight at home. They had a tape of the music with them. This would be a new audience. But they noticed a bottle of whiskey had come onto the table, and their father and brother and old Barty wanted to discuss something other than dancing. Everyone was waiting for the children to go to bed, on a bright summer evening when they had been hoping to be up for ages more. With brief goodnights the twins marched grimly upstairs. Mother’s door was closed.

They missed sleeping in the same room as they had in St Jarlath’s Crescent. Everything was different now.

Cathy said they couldn’t possibly take on a sales conference lunch for thirty on the very same day as Freddie Flynn’s party.

‘It will be dead easy,’ Tom pleaded. ‘They’re slave-drivers these people, no lingering and enjoying themselves for the employees, no drinking and getting messy like a real lunch. They’ll be back working in that hall at two-fifteen and we’ll be out in half an hour after that.’

‘Stop smiling at me like that, Tom Feather, it doesn’t work here,’ Cathy said. ‘We want to do the Flynn thing right, we’re being silly taking on something else that might put it at risk.’

‘And do we or do we not want to get this business up and running?’ he asked.

‘We do, but not by beating ourselves down onto our knees.’

‘Aw, come on Cathy, I’ll do the lunch with June and you and Con keep things ticking over here. We’ll be back to you before three. Yes?’

‘We’re pushing ourselves,’ she said.

‘Stretching ourselves,’ he corrected.

They looked at each other long and hard.

‘It’s easy money, it’s a good contact,’ said Tom. In his heart he was thinking that if he cleared a few pounds profit on this he’d take Marcella to one of those fancy hotels for a weekend, a place with a swimming pool and a health centre, a place she could dress up at night.

‘We’ve always said people go under if they take on too much, their standards fall,’ Cathy said. She was thinking that she truthfully could barely manage as things were, the nausea was still there, she didn’t sleep properly and she still hadn’t found or made the time to tell Neil. The Predictor from the chemist had said yes, but people knew they were often wrong, she had an appointment with the doctor next week. It might all be nothing, surely it was too soon to have morning sickness anyway, supposing it were true.

‘Let’s go to arbitration,’ Tom said.

They took out of the drawer in the kitchen table the coin that they always used when they were at an impasse. Solemnly they watched as the coin spun round, and waited until it fell. Tom picked it up.

‘So I won, but I promise you’ll be glad.’

‘Sure I will.’ Cathy nailed the smile onto her face.

‘Can we come to England with you on a holiday?’ Simon stood at the door of Walter’s bedroom.

‘Of course you can’t,’ Walter said impatiently.

‘But we’ll have no holiday then,’ Maud said.

‘Aren’t you back home…
and
you’ll have no school, that’s meant to be a holiday, surely?’

‘Muttie was going to take us to the country when we were living in St Jarlath’s Crescent,’ Simon said mutinously.

‘You weren’t living there, you were only staying there,’ Walter complained.

‘It felt like living there,’ Maud said.

Walter went on packing his case. The twins didn’t move.

‘Muttie has been to the country a few times, he said you wouldn’t want to spend too long there, though,’ Maud explained.

‘He found it was desperately quiet, and that you could hear birds roaring at you from trees,’ Simon said wistfully.

‘Kids, I’m sorry, I have to get on.’

‘Are you going today?’ Maud asked, disappointed. It was marginally more lively here when Walter was around.

‘Tonight or tomorrow. I have some work to do with Father and Barty.’

‘But Father doesn’t
have
any work.’ Simon was remorseless about getting things straight.

‘Of course he does, Simon,’ Walter was annoyed. ‘He has meetings and responsibilities.’

‘With Barty?’ Maud wanted to know.

‘Not always, but today, yes.’

‘So if Father’s out and Mother’s going to stay in bed… what will we do?’ Simon and Maud looked at each other blankly. There had been so many things to do in St Jarlath’s Crescent. And so many people, including Hooves, to do them with.

‘You could get a job,’ Walter suggested.

‘I don’t think we’re old enough,’ Maud said.

‘No, doing kids’ jobs: stacking shelves, collecting trolleys in a supermarket, tidying someone’s garden… those kind of things…’ said Walter vaguely, having never attempted any of them.

‘We might be able to wash up for Cathy and Tom,’ Simon said cheerfully.

‘Hard taskmaster, that one,’ Walter said.

‘Still, it’s worth a try,’ said Maud.

‘Imagine, no more school until September,’ Cathy said when she saw the two faces arrive at the premises.

‘I don’t mind school too much,’ Maud said. ‘You wouldn’t want to say it there, but I don’t.’

‘No, I didn’t either,’ Cathy said. I felt I owed it to Geraldine to do well, and I got great pleasure out of getting good results.’

‘Why Geraldine?’ they asked, and Cathy remembered that the twins produced every single piece of unwanted information at the wrong time. She was meant to have won scholarships, all through. Geraldine’s generosity was never mentioned nor even known in Lizzie and Muttie’s home.

‘I meant she always encouraged me to study for the scholarships, you see.’

‘Were you brilliant to have won them?’

‘Not bad,’ Cathy said modestly, feeling slightly ashamed. She racked her brains to think of something that the twins could do to help, where they wouldn’t be in the way and they couldn’t do too much harm.

‘Polish glasses?’ Con suggested.

‘No, they’d smear them,’ she whispered.

‘Chopping anything… ?’

‘They’re worse than I am, the place would be running with blood. I know, they can shine up the silver and count the forks.’

Maud and Simon were installed in what was eventually going to be called the second kitchen but for now was the storeroom. They chattered on happily; sometimes Cathy leaned against the door and listened. There were bits about Father’s business with Barty, and how good Sara was at getting Mrs Barry to do the shopping from a list. Sara knew a place where they could learn tennis, but Father said it cost too much. Whether Muttie would ever come to visit them at their home again after what Father had done. Cathy sighed. She had resented them so much a few short months ago, mainly because she knew they were being passed on by Hannah and Jock. But everything had changed so much. Who could have thought it? Again and again she went over when exactly it must have happened. Neil would be furious. Why did it feel different now? Once it would have been unthinkable to keep something this important from Neil. It was still unthinkable. She would tell him tonight.

Tom and June came back from the sales luncheon in high spirits. Fifty people, all of them as obedient as mice, start eating, continue eating, finish eating, if only the whole world was run like this.

‘But how awful to be part of it,’ Cathy said, shuddering.

‘Ah, but it was so easy, Cath, you’ve no idea, they’d have eaten a paper plate smeared with jam, believe me.’

‘They must have been
very
hungry,’ Maud said, shocked.

‘Well
hallo
, we have help.’ Tom was surprised and pleased.

‘And great help they are. Tell them you were joking about the paper plates and jam Tom, otherwise they’ll tell everyone it’s our signature dish.’

‘You don’t give them enough credit, you know that was a joke, Maud, didn’t you?’ Tom said.

‘I wasn’t totally sure,’ she admitted.

‘Well it was, they’d never eat a paper plate, and what’s more they wouldn’t have a chance to. Why? Because we’d never serve anything on a paper plate, is that very clear?’ He had a mock-ferocious face on. The children nodded furiously. It was clear, they said.

‘We’ve been polishing your good silver,’ Simon said.

‘You could see your face in the punchbowl,’ Maud said proudly.

‘Well that’s great, because everything we own, all the things we have been saving for are tied up in these four walls.’

‘What, everything here is all you have?’

‘Yes, our treasures are here, certainly,’ Tom agreed.

‘Is it all very valuable?’ they asked.

June was stacking the dishwasher, and raised her eyes to heaven.

‘Well, some of it is irreplaceable, like that punchbowl you just cleaned so beautifully,’ Cathy said. I won that at a competition at college, it was first prize for a summer fruit punch, we use it everywhere now.’

‘The Flynns don’t want it tonight apparently,’ Tom said thoughtlessly, after all Maud’s hard work. ‘Which means we have it ready shining and waiting for the next job, which is just
great
.’

Maud beamed with pleasure.

‘And what’s the next most valuable thing?’ Simon wondered.

Tom, Cathy and June joked about whether it was the disk on the computer with all the recipes, the book of contacts, the double oven, or the chest freezer… They laughed as they listed all the things they had.

‘We never thought we’d own such a huge amount of stuff,’ Cathy said.

‘Like Muttie thinks he’ll never win an accumulator,’ Simon said, eager to show he was on her wavelength.

‘But he never will, Simon,’ Cathy implored.

‘People may well have said to you and Tom… that you’d never have any treasures,’ Simon was fierce in his defence of Muttie’s dreams.

‘We worked for it, night after long night…’ Cathy said.

‘Muttie works at the bookmakers’, he studies it, he learns about form and he lets the sound of hooves get in on his brain.’

‘Of course he does,’ Tom said gently.

‘Are you insured, in case anyone came in and took all your treasures?’ Maud worried.

Cathy made yet another resolution not to go down any road like this again with the children. ‘Very well insured. James Byrne is like a clucking hen,’ Cathy reassured her.

‘What Cathy means is that James isn’t remotely like a clucking hen: he is a marvellous man who made us take out a very big insurance policy.’

The twins seemed reasonably pleased with this, but Simon had one more worry. ‘Do you lock up properly when you leave?’ he wanted to know.

‘Yes Simon, two locks, an alarm with a code and all.’

‘And do you remember the code?’

‘We had to make it simple for Tom,’ Cathy said.

‘Men find it hard to take complicated things on board,’ June agreed.

‘Do you have your birthday?’ Simon asked. ‘Or your lucky number?’

‘No, they told us not to,’ Tom said.

‘So we have the two initials of Scarlet Feather instead.’