Scarlet Feather (29 page)

‘You’re welcome, Cathy, but this is a house of hard industry at the moment. Everyone has to be kept at their work until after six-thirty, if you know what I mean.’

Cathy knew exactly what she meant. She meant that it was hard enough to get Muttie to paint and the children to do their school work without having a welcome interruption like a visit to cope with.

‘I’m just going to do my accounts at the table,’ she said quickly, and sat down opposite Maud and Simon. ‘Hallo,’ she whispered, as if she too were just a fellow hater of homework.

‘Should we make tea?’ Maud hissed hopefully behind her hand. Simon looked up eagerly.

‘No, not until half past six,’ Cathy whispered, and they all went back to work. She didn’t even see the figures, they were just a blur. She had phoned Neil just before coming here. Simon and Maud’s mother and father were very grateful to these people who had done so much when they were unavoidably absent, but everything was now fine again. They were looking forward to seeing their children again, and were expecting them to come home at the weekend. And tonight he was meeting someone who would let them know about the timescale.

‘Timescale?’ Cathy had asked.

About the job; apparently this guy knew how long it could be held open for Neil.

At half past six they all went on a tour of inspection of the snow-white kennel.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Simon said with awe.

‘A palace for Hooves,’ said Maud.

‘But of course he can’t get into it until the paint is dried,’Muttie explained.

‘Or he’ll come out looking like a Dalmatian, all white spots,’ said Cathy.

‘Dalmatians are actually white with black spots,’ Simon corrected her. Then he remembered that you didn’t correct people. ‘At least, what I meant to say was… that some of them are white with black spoil. Of course, they
could
be the other way round, too.’

‘Good boy, Simon,’ Cathy said with sudden tears in her eyes. They had taught these children so much, they were almost human beings now, and for what? So that they could be sent back to these dysfunctional parents?

‘Are you crying?’ Maud asked with interest.

‘Sort of. People of my age do cry sometimes, quite unexpectedly. It’s a nuisance,’ she said matter-of-factly and blew her nose.

‘Our mother used to cry like that in the hospital, and she didn’t know why either,’ Maud said kindly, as a sort of reassurance.

‘But in her case it was really due to her bad nerves.’ Simon was anxious always to be fair.

She hadn’t realised just how very much she was going to miss them. It was nonsense to say that they
belonged
with this ridiculous couple, Jock’s brother Kenneth and his wife.

‘Come on kids, let’s take Hooves for a walk. I know he’s not mine but I feel very close to him, even though I don’t live here.’

It won’t be much of a walk, it’s more a waddle,’ Maud said, and ran for the lead. Up and down St Jarlath’s Crescent they went, telling the people that they met about the puppy. They divided the time meticulously between them.

‘I never thought we’d have a real puppy of our own, I thought we’d be able to play with someone else’s, but not one of our very own, living in the house,’ said Simon when it was Maud’s turn to hold the lead.

‘Sure, and he’ll always be yours. The actual
house
where Hooves sleeps isn’t all that important, not as important as the fact that he belongs to you.’

Simon looked up at her, troubled. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, you know,’ she shrugged vaguely.

‘I know now,’ he said. The old solemn look was back.

‘What do you know?’ she asked fearfully.

Maud had joined them, and was looking from one to the other.

Simon spoke very slowly and deliberately. ‘Father has come back from his travels, Mother is coming out of the nervous hospital and we’ll be leaving Muttie and his wife and we’re going back to live with them and leave Hooves behind us.’

Maud looked up, stricken, waiting to hear it wasn’t true. ‘We’re to call Muttie’s wife Lizzie,’ she corrected. ‘Remember.’

‘Yes,’ Simon said flatly. ‘Sorry, I forgot. Yeah, it’s Lizzie all right.’

There was a silence. ‘It’s your turn with Hooves,’ Maud said to Simon.

‘I don’t want him, Maud. Thank you all the same,’ Simon said, and walked ahead of them back home. His shoulders were hunched and his head was down. Cathy let him go. She knew that he was trying very hard not to show how upset he was.

‘Are we really going to be leaving St Jarlath’s Crescent and you and Neil, Cathy?’ Maud’s face was paler than ever.

‘It’s not really
leaving
, you know friends don’t leave each other, you’ll be coming back to us and to Dad and Mam and who knows, maybe things are much better now and you can take Hooves with you.’

‘You didn’t know Mother, did you?’

‘No, not really
know
, so to speak.’

‘Her nerves would never let her make a home for Hooves,’ Maud said sadly.

Marcella was talking earnestly to Ricky, but her face lit up when Tom came into the bookshop.

‘You’ll never guess what Ricky’s going to try and get,’ she said excitedly.

‘No, tell me.’ Tom was tired. His mother had worn him out, the passivity of his father had depressed him, he feared they hadn’t costed the breads right for tomorrow’s demonstration. Cathy had rung him on the mobile to say that St Jarlath’s Crescent was plunged into gloom and the only person giving her the time of day was the black puppy, who had peed several times into her shoe.

‘I just wondered if you felt like a cheering drink,’ she had asked.

‘I’m on my way to have one, come and join us. We might make a pitch for the bookshop trade as well,’ he offered.

‘Will I get in? I wasn’t invited,’ Cathy wondered.

I’d say they’ll be out in the highways and byways dragging people in off the street,’ he said.

‘Tom, don’t look now,’ Marcella warned, ‘but that woman over there in the hat… She’s the editor of the new magazine I was telling you about, well, Ricky thinks he could sell her a picture story. Big, hunky photos of you… wearing a
much
classier sweater than that… Huge publicity for Scarlet Feather, too… you know, at home and at work or wherever.’

‘Yeah, I mentioned it to her, she seems to be interested, but you know they never tell you yes or no. Still, I think she’ll bite.’

‘You do, Ricky?’ Tom’s eyes lit up. This would be truly wonderful. Everyone who was ever going to hire a caterer read this publication. He could see Cathy and himself taking the tray of bread into Haywards, the van with its jaunty little logo. Maybe they could give a recipe, and get a perfect picture taken of the completed dish. Like the scallops and ginger Cathy did so well, that would really show up well. They would never in a million years be able to get this kind of coverage. Wasn’t Marcella
great
to talk Ricky into this. Ricky would persuade the woman in the silly hat.

‘He’s going to ask her to come over and meet you in a minute -give her your biggest smile,’ Marcella begged. She looked so beautiful, but extra lively and happy tonight in a very smart short, dark grey and white dress he had never seen before.

‘New?’ he asked admiringly.

‘Tom darling, you are so wonderful but you know nothing about clothes. This would cost seven hundred pounds if you were to buy it.’

‘So how did you…’

‘Joys of working in Haywards. Someone returned it to the designer room, a flaw in one of the seams or something. All I pay for is the dry-cleaning.’

She was like a toddler at a birthday party she was so thrilled with it all. Just then he saw Cathy. She looked bedraggled in her raincoat, and instead of a bright ribbon holding her hair back she had an elastic band. She wore no make-up, and she had lines under her eyes. He would not have noticed except that the room was filled with overdressed women and he had just turned away from the immaculately groomed Marcella in her designer outfit.

Cathy smiled. ‘Lead me to the cheapest red wine and let me loose on it,’ she said.

‘Not if you’re driving the company van, no way,’ he said.

‘No, I parked it up at the premises. It’s all tucked up there waiting for the dawn baker to arrive.’ She was as tired as he was. Where did all these other people get the energy to yap so much to each other?

‘My God, look at Marcella! She’s utterly dazzling in that dress. Bet it cost a few quid.’

‘Don’t ask,’ he said.

‘Oh dear, domestic rows on this matter?’

‘No, I meant don’t ask because it’s off Haywards rail tonight and back tomorrow, I understand.’

‘No harm done then.’ Cathy was cheerful. ‘Lord, but this is truly dreadful wine, I’ll be glad when I’ve had enough!’

The woman in the silly hat approached and was introduced by Ricky. ‘This is the celebrated Tom Feather I told you about,’ Ricky said.

‘Mmm,’ she said, looking Tom up and down.

‘I hear the magazine’s doing really well,’ he said.

‘And your business too.’ Again she seemed to let her eyes run all over Tom’s body slowly and appreciatively.

‘Yes, well, let me introduce you to the other half of the business, half of Scarlet Feather, Cathy Scarlet.’

‘Great to meet you,’ Cathy said pleasantly.

The woman looked somewhat puzzled. ‘How nice,’ she said.

‘We’d be very happy to cooperate in anything… everything,’ he said with his huge smile.

‘Well
that
sounds like the best offer I’ve had all night,’ she said. She had a strange manner, this woman with the hat. Full of innuendo, as if a very obvious pass was being made to her and she was being coy and flirtatious about it. Cathy thought she was grotesque. But she had gone now, so it was immaterial.

‘Marcella… you look stunning.’ She was genuine in her admiration.

‘You’re sweet, Cathy, it’s just fine feathers, borrowed feathers actually.’

‘Wait till you know what’s going to happen, thanks to Ricky.’ Tom couldn’t wait a moment longer.

‘What?’ Cathy had rarely seen him so excited.

‘That woman who looked as if she was wearing two building blocks stuck to a coat hanger on her head. She’s the head of the new magazine we couldn’t afford to advertise in, and wait for it, there’s going to be a photo feature about Scarlet Feather in it.’

‘Well, Tom…’ Ricky began.

Wo! You’re not serious.’ Cathy was utterly delighted but apprehensive. She was going to have to do so much, finally change her hairstyle, borrow some clothes, get a professional make-up… But it would all be worth it.

‘When do they want to do it?’ she asked, as excited as Tom was.

‘Well you see, actually…’ Ricky began looking ill at ease.

Marcella explained. ‘Ricky was telling me she’s a very difficult woman, she blows hot and cold, we won’t really know when or what form it will take for quite some time.’ She seemed to be looking very directly at Ricky as she spoke.

‘Sure,’ he said eventually. ‘Marcella tells it as it is. Stay in this part of the room, honey. I’ll get one of the guys from the Sundays to come over to snap you.’

‘Photographers always use that word “snap” as a joke. It’s like people calling the radio a wireless…’ Marcella said.

‘Why did Ricky change his tack so suddenly? A few minutes ago he was saying it was in the bag. I can’t understand it.’ Tom was puzzled and annoyed.

The woman with the hat was leaving. She waved at him. ‘Night, Tom, be good now. We’ll be in touch soon. Ricky knows everything,’ she said and was gone.

‘
Now
,’ Tom was triumphant. ‘I’m going to find Ricky and tell him.’

‘Please Tom, don’t.’ Marcella spoke seriously. Cathy looked up at her tone. ‘There’s been a misunderstanding.’ Marcella looked awkwardly from Tom to Cathy as if unsure where to start or which of them to tell.

‘Go on Marcella,’ Cathy was gentle.

‘Ricky was selling her a feature for a kind of Glamorous Couples thing… you know, you the big, gorgeous gourmet cook, me the model, our home, pics of us coming out of Stoneyfield together, you serving a meal to me, me at the gym, you piping cream on a dessert… Me doing the charity modelling show for that children’s home… That kind of thing… So you see…’

‘It’s not about Scarlet Feather at all.’ He was bitterly disappointed.

‘Well, of course it is in part… after all, it’s going to say what you do for a living, people will get to know your name.’

‘But it’s all a fake. I don’t cook you meals, Marcella… you don’t
eat
any meals.’ Tom’s face was red with indignation.

‘Oh, come on, Tom, I thought you’d be delighted. She said you were gorgeous-looking. She told Ricky that when he showed her a picture he had taken of both of us. This is the chance I need. Why are you being so difficult? They can’t
have
a feature on the business alone, that would be just advertising and the other catering companies would all go mad.’

‘And what about all the other models or future models, won’t they go mad also if it’s about you?’

‘About
us
, Tom, not just me, it’s you too, how else are you going to get Scarlet Feather mentioned? I thought you’d be so pleased.’

Cathy saw this argument going nowhere except sharply downhill. ‘I think it’s great, Tom, this is the very best way that we could get publicity you know, it’s
exactly
what we want.’

Marcella looked at her, a quick, very grateful glance.

But Tom had yet to be persuaded. ‘I think it’s silly. I’m not a male model, strutting about for knitting patterns, dressing up in a posh sweater or serving something in a cream sauce that you wouldn’t eat in a million years…’

‘Tom, stop the dramatics. How else are we going to get Scarlet Feather that kind of publicity? Tell me.’

‘
You’re
not being asked to behave like an arsehole.’

‘And neither are you… I’d do it for the company. I would in a flash if I looked the part, and if Neil’s bloody job would let him take part. But you know the way those barristers go on…’ She had defused it.

‘So do you really think… ?’

‘Well of course I think… But listen, in the end it’s all up to you and Marcella to fight about it. I’ll leave you now to get on with it. Just know that I put on the table the view that it would be great for business.’ She turned to go away, and saw herself reflected in a glass door. Of course it had been ridiculous to think that a glossy magazine would have wanted her in it. She had been even more idiotic than Tom.