‘August the nineteenth, you don’t mean that you’re going to be there?’ She looked as white as a sheet.
‘Of course I am, aren’t I, cooking the whole damn thing.’
‘He said there wasn’t going to be anyone else, he wrote that he was cooking it all by himself.’
‘Shona, what are we talking about?’ Cathy asked her.
‘What are
you
talking about?’
‘My sister’s wedding, three endless days of it. What were
you
talking about?’
‘Sorry, I just thought for a moment… No, it’s nothing… I’ve been invited out on August the nineteenth, and I thought you might be cooking for that.’
‘Oh really, where?’
‘No, just to a private house… I thought that by some chance you might be doing the dinner.’
‘No, I wish I were, it sounds nice and peaceful.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on that,’ Shona said.
As Cathy left the store she wondered could Shona possibly be going to dinner with James Byrne? His party was on the nineteenth. He had said that his guest was about the same age as Cathy. But how could Shona be a long-lost friend? Anyway, this wasn’t a village, this was Dublin, city of a million people. She was foolish to think that she knew everyone in the pond. And she had quite enough to worry about without drawing something still further on herself. Tonight, Wednesday, Marian and Harry were leaving Chicago, they would be here tomorrow morning. Their room was gleaming for them in St Jarlath’s Crescent, Cathy remembered that nobody must sew the new aprons in front of them, or allow Simon and Maud anywhere near them. Tomorrow night, Thursday, the rest of the Chicagoans, dozens and dozens of them, were coming to various hotels near the city centre. They would all arrive on Friday morning. She felt dizzy thinking about it.
Harry was a small, round man with a head of dark curly hair and a great warm laugh.
‘Muttie, I want you to know that I’m going to look after your little girl,’ he said with a strong handshake.
‘From all accounts you’ve been looking after her fine for a good while now,’ said Muttie.
And the two men understood each other immediately. It turned out that Harry liked dogs and horses, and Muttie, who read more of the sports pages than people thought, knew all about the Chicago Bears. Marian was so excited she almost had to be tied to the table, she kept darting everywhere, saying she had no idea St Jarlath’s Crescent was so small, so colourful, so elegant really. She couldn’t believe the traffic, the number of posh cars parked outside the doors of the street where she had grown up. The fact that two of them, Geraldine’s
BMW
and Cathy’s Volvo, were connected with this house brought her further pleasure… She was not at all the neurotic, hysterical sister who had plagued them for weeks and months by phone, e-mail and fax. Her wedding dress was unpacked and admired, her ring was tried on by all the women, her choice of husband praised to the skies.
‘Where is he, by the way?’ Cathy asked.
‘He’s gone off. Dad said he’d show him his office and get him a pint.’
‘You know what your father means by his office.’ Lizzie was still fearful of how all this would turn out.
‘Oh, Mam, I’ve been away, that’s true, but not so long that I don’t know where my da’s office is. Harry loves a bet just like the next man; he’d much prefer to be there than here talking about clothes.’ Marian looked happy and relaxed; she looked younger than her thirty years, her hair was short, she was trim and fit, and her eyes were alight with happiness.
‘Do you want me to take you on a tour, to show you where all the parties will be? Of course, they’re not properly set up yet, but you’d get an idea,’ Cathy offered.
‘Not at all, Cathy, I can see you’ve got it all under control,’ Marian said, and Cathy breathed normally for the first time in a few weeks.
‘Tom Feather, my old friend, how are you?’ Harry clenched Tom’s hand at the pre-wedding party with a mighty grip.
‘Look, not a sign of a speakeasy,’ Tom hissed at him as he took the groom on a tour of Ricky’s basement.
‘And I got my folks to understand about the corned beef,’ Harry whispered.
‘Are there any pitfalls we should know about?’ Tom asked him. He felt he could trust this man to the ends of the earth.
‘My aunt over there, small, hatchet-faced, wearing purple -nothing has ever pleased her in this life... Nothing ever will...
Oh, and Cathy’s eldest brother Mike’s been put off the sauce recently, finds it very hard.’
‘Thanks a lot. Let me see what I can tell you. Lizzie’s not used to too much sherry,Muttie likes pints, the woman in the cardigan is a plain-clothes nun. And don’t let the kids dance tonight or the party will be over, tomorrow is quite enough.’
Fine. My card is marked, and Tom, do you have a significant other here that I should meet?’
‘No, I’ve just broken up with my significant other,’ Tom said ruefully.
‘I’m sorry. Her doing or your doing?’
‘Have you three hours and I’ll tell you,’ Tom grinned. ‘No, seriously, a bit of both, I believe.’
‘Right, then you’ll survive,’ Harry promised.
And for the first time since the night of the fashion show, Tom felt that somehow he might.
They were back at the premises, and Neil apologised for not being able to come back to help. There was something tomorrow, papers he had to go through.
‘Where’s Marcella? She should be on board for something like this.’
‘Marcella’s not on board at all these days,’ Tom said.
‘I’m very sorry.’ Neil looked at Cathy accusingly, as if to say he should have been told this piece of information.
‘Yes, I’m sorry, I should have told you, Neil, but then I didn’t know if it was going to be a long-term or a short-term break…’
‘None of us knew that,’ June interrupted cheekily. ‘But it’s been a few weeks now, and no sign of her, so we think he’s on the market again.’ She winked at Lucy, the student who was working with them that night. ‘What would you say, Lucy?’
‘Oh, definitely open season on Tom, I’d say,’ Lucy said. ‘Why else do you think I agreed to work here?’
And as they worked on companionably to get everything done in readiness for the morning, Cathy glanced at Tom from time to time. He did seem to be less drawn and sad. Perhaps he was getting over her. But maybe it was an act. People who were as involved as Marcella and Tom didn’t just part without a great deal of heartbreak. Wherever she was tonight, the silly girl would be thinking of big, handsome Torn Feather with his warm, loving ways. Cathy was thinking that she had never come across anyone so perpetually good-natured when she heard him saying, ‘ I wonder, has that aunt of Harry’s got any allergies? Maybe we could feed her nuts or magic mushrooms or something tomorrow, and kill her before she does any more damage.’
‘She asked me to bring her up and out into the fresh air, and then to bring her back down again,’ Con said.
‘She told me I needed a good girdle…’ said June.
‘She’s lonely, and old and frightened, just be nice to her,’ Cathy said.
They all looked at her in amazement.
‘Why are you taking that attitude?’ June was astounded.
‘Because Tom, for once, isn’t, and
somebody
round here has to play the role of angel if we’re going to keep this company on the road,’ Cathy said.
The wedding day, 19 August, was a beautiful sunny day, which nobody could have guaranteed. The priest was warm and welcoming, which might not have been the case in every single parish church in the country. The congregation had assembled in plenty of time, and all the women wore hats in honour of the occasion. Harry stood there beaming as Muttie and Marian walked up the aisle. Slow, measured steps, not scuttling. It was a miracle. Lizzie looked like someone who could have been photographed at the races for the Best-Dressed Lady, in an elegant grey silk outfit and a smart black hat. Geraldine, who had hired hats for all of them, wore an apricot suit, and Cathy stood beside her in the silk dress she had bought the week before in Haywards.
Neil had his best appearing-in-the-High-Court suit on to impress the in-laws. Soon, soon they would be finished with all this. He would take a day or two off and they would rest and talk about the future. He had promised this. Just as soon as Marian’s wedding was over. In spite of herself, Cathy felt the tears come down her face when she saw Maud and Simon walking as solemnly as if their very lives depended on it behind the bride and Muttie. They were so good. Why had she thought they might behave stupidly and let everyone down? Their hair shining, their little kilts immaculate, their ordinary shoes polished to the highest degree. And she sniffed seriously when she heard Harry and Marian, who had been living together happily in Chicago for ages now, exchange their vows. For the first time she wished that she and Neil had organised something bigger and more celebratory themselves for their wedding day. But at that time to get married at all had been such a victory.
The church hall where they had the wedding feast looked magnificent, draped in ribbons and greenery and flowers. When the church was emptied June and Con were sent in to bring the flowers out quickly from the altar to the top table. There was a glass of champagne offered as soon as the guests came in the door. Tom took charge of Mike, the brother who found being on the dry a problem.
‘Hi Mike, I’m Tom Feather, your sister’s partner.’
‘I thought she was married to Neil.’ Mike glowered at him.
‘Sure she is, I’m her work partner. Be nice to me, I’m in charge of the food and drink.’
‘Drink, huh?’ Mike said.
‘I’ve got something here you’d love. Low-cal cranberry juice with freshly squeezed grapefruit whipped up with a little sugar syrup and white of egg.’
‘What’s it called?’ Mike was still unwilling to thaw.
‘It’s called, “Let’s not show it to the others, let’s find something bearable for ourselves,”’ Tom winked.
‘You been put off alcohol too?’
‘Hell, isn’t it? Other people seem so stupid and go on so long and say the same thing over and over again.’
‘And their elbows fall off tables,’ Mike said in a fury.
‘Oh, I know all about it…’ said Tom. ‘Still, we’ve got something here, you and I, that none of the others will have, and think how well we’ll feel tomorrow.’ Mike brightened up. ‘And if
we
want to sing, we’ll remember the words, unlike the rest of them.’
‘Will there be singing?’ Mike thought the day might not be so sepulchral.
‘It’s a wedding, isn’t it? We have to sing the praises of My Kind Of Town Chicago Is, and then someone has to tell us about Dublin’s Fair City, don’t they?’
Mike was a much-cheered man when Tom left him. All Tom had to do now was make sure that there were a few singers in the hall. People who would be able to wrench the stage from Maud and Simon when their time came. There was a roar of conversation, and as they moved among the guests they realised that it was already a mighty success. The first of many weddings they would do in this hall. Next time, hopefully, wearing their smart Scarlet Feather uniform. Today, however, they were wearing their idiotic shamrock-decorated outfits which they had all finished sewing minutes before they put them on. They all reported conversations to each other as they flashed by in the kitchen, which was lit up by the late afternoon sun.
‘Harry’s aunt that you were being so nice about is fast asleep; that’s how much she’s enjoying it,’ Tom said.
‘I told them to let her sleep, not to wake her. It’s jet lag. She can wake up for dessert and the entertainment,’ Cathy said.
‘Simon and Maud have asked us to hold their cake and ice cream, please, until after their dance,’ June announced.
‘Makes sense,’ Con agreed. I’d hate to see them bringing up that lot on the floor, wouldn’t you?’
In Rathgar, Shona stopped outside the house. She didn’t have to go in. She had his phone number: she could call him now on her mobile and say that she didn’t feel well. Which was actually true. She was an adult of twenty-eight years of age. She hadn’t seen him for fourteen years. Nothing except a carefully written letter from an old man. Why had he said that he would cook for her? Somehow that had touched her. When she knew him almost a decade and a half ago, he couldn’t cook. He had learned to cook especially to make her a meal, he said. It could be just a line he was taking in order to persuade her. But he had never been cunning enough or cared enough to do that in the past. Why should he begin now? And why on earth did he want to see her again? It was because she was so curious about this that she was here… And now that she was here, she would go in. Shona walked in and rang the doorbell of James Byrne’s garden flat.
‘Con, can you move that bottle of wine away from my mother and get my father another pint?’ Cathy asked.
‘They’re devouring the salmon, will there be enough for second helpings?’ Lucy asked.
‘Yes, but fill the serving dish up with cress and dollops of sauce as well, to hide the fact that there ain’t that much fish,’ Tom advised, ‘and carve another dish of lamb as well. Make it look nice; we can always use it again.’
And eventually there were the speeches, simple and straightforward, thanks being lavished everywhere and no awful best-man jokes. And finally, the moment was here for Maud and Simon.
Harry announced, ‘When I first heard about this wonderful hospitable Irish wedding, I knew I would take my bride in my arms and dance around a flower-filled hall… I never realised how beautiful both would look, but there are so many wonderful surprises today, including being introduced to Maud and Simon Mitchell, who are cousins by marriage of mine, now… our beautiful flower girl and our elegant pageboy. Now they are going to dance for us, and I want you to give them the great big welcome they deserve.’
Maud and Simon strode out confidently in their cloaks, kilts and huge Tara brooches, as if they were totally accustomed to being greeted with such applause.
‘My fellow guests at Marian and Harry’s wedding,’ Simon read from a piece of paper, ‘I am Simon Mitchell. I want to welcome you all to Ireland, those who weren’t here already, I mean. My partner Maud and I will dance a jig with the very suitable name of “Haste To The Wedding”. Although in your case you’re already here.
At
the wedding,’ he beamed at them as an afterthought.