The Tea House on Mulberry Street (3 page)

“Nothing like the smell of fresh paint to cheer a body up. Oh, look at this! Lime-green and purple walls in the same room – no, thank you! Here, my Jack is very handy with a hammer and nails, if you’re wanting any shelves puttin’ up.”

Daniel was stirring the eggs carefully. He snorted and muttered something at the idea of big Jack Mortimer hammering and sawing wood in his precious cafe. Then he handed the wooden spoon to Penny and went out to the counter as a group of hungry workmen came in.

“What did your man just say?” asked Millie. “‘A waste of money’, no doubt. Oh, what did you ever see in him, Penny?” She kept her voice to a whisper, but she was angry.

Penny smiled as she remembered. “The first time I saw him I thought I would faint, my heart was thumping that much. There was a light shining in his eyes.” She reached for some heated plates.

“Oh, Penny, you never change! Lights shining isn’t everything! Men aren’t just for looking at, you know – they’re not ornaments. You could have done a lot better for yourself!”

“We’ll never know now, will we?” said Penny, and she went out with the Crawleys’ breakfast.

Daniel picked up a list from the counter and said he was going next door to the greengrocer’s.

“I was just thinking about that fortune-teller in Donegal,” said Penny to Millie as she came back into the kitchen. “That holiday we went on, with the girls from school – what a laugh that was! Six of us in that little chalet by the beach! Remember?” She switched on the kettle.

“How could I forget?” said Millie. “We nearly froze to death. We only brought light clothes with us. I had one coat and six bikinis in my suitcase. It should have been the other way round. And Sionna McAleer got a terrible crush on the boy who took the money for the dodgems. Him with the crew cut, and the scar on his neck, remember?”

“Yes – and she claimed she could actually
feel
her heart breaking when he turned her down for a date. Whatever happened to her, I wonder?”

“She married a consultant doctor from North Down. Their house is a listed building in its own grounds.”

“She got over her broken heart, then, so,” said Penny, as she began to make a pot of tea. “Anyway – remember the fortune-teller? She told me I would meet a tall handsome stranger, in a dark place near water, and that he would have blue eyes, and that he would know my name before I told it to him. I thought that was so romantic – I was only seventeen, after all. And sure, I was no sooner home but I saw Daniel for the first time.”

“Now, Penny, don’t go over all that oul’ nonsense again! Your woman probably said things like that to everyone.” Millie was the practical sort. “It was the seaside, after all. There was water and strangers all over the place!” She eyed Penny closely. “Would you listen to the fortune-teller if you were there now?”

Penny had settled herself at the table and was pouring tea. “No. Are you mad? I’m thirty-five, Millie. And I don’t think meeting my husband in a nightclub near the docks was all that romantic. And he knew my name because it was written on my necklace. And loads of people have blue eyes.” She hesitated. “Still… she must have seen something. I mean, we’re still together, after all this time.”

But she wondered about that incident, sometimes. Had she really accepted Daniel’s sudden marriage proposal, all those years ago, because of the fortune-teller’s fanciful words?

“God help you,” said Millie, who believed she had. Penny could have had any man she wanted when she was younger. A beautiful girl, with a good business coming to her, from her father’s side of the family. And she had to go and marry the first bucko that came along! “He’s obsessed with the business. The way he carries on over those blasted cakes, it’s not right. If I had your money, I’d sell up and move to some holiday resort. For good. Put my feet up for a change. Sure what are you killing yourselves for, when you could be living in style, on the continent? Haven’t you a right few bob in the bank? I can’t fathom it.”

“A little apartment in Spain, do you think, Millie?” said Penny as she sipped her tea.

“Oh, aye,” said Millie, tossing the butt of her cigarette out into the yard and lighting up another. “Here, me and Jack and the weans could nip over in the summer, and keep you company.”

“Well, that sounds very cosy, Millie, and we could do it, I suppose, but I would never leave Muldoon’s,” said Penny at once. “I was brought up here. Silly, I know. But I can’t leave the shop, not ever. I belong here.”

Millie rolled her eyes. Those were familiar words. Belfast was divided into the kind of people who couldn’t wait to get out of the place, and the people who would never leave the city, no matter what happened. And besides, from the moment she met that stuck-up husband of hers, Penny was like putty in his hands. She’d do nothing unless he gave her permission. Millie decided to change the subject.

“My Jack is putting on a bit of weight, I’ve noticed. Too many pints and fish suppers. That’s the problem in a nutshell, but I couldn’t say that to his face. He’s very sensitive about his appearance. Any suggestions, as to how I could get him to go on a diet without actually mentioning the word ‘diet’?”

“Easy,” said Penny, after a minute’s thought. “He has to see himself the way you see him. I’ll tell you what you should do. Paint your bathroom brilliant white, and hang the biggest mirror in it that you can find. Full-length. Four foot wide, at the very least. And fit a 150 watt bulb into the ceiling light. Then, every time he takes a shower, he won’t be able to avoid the sight of himself, in all his natural glory. And when he tells you he’s going on a diet, you must act all surprised, and tell him there’s no need.”

“Penny, you’re a genius! I’ll do that tomorrow, first thing. You know, they have huge mirrors in them fancy furniture shops on the Dublin Road.”

“Lovely, a wee cup of tea,” said Daniel, coming through from the shop. “You won’t believe this but they’ve put up the price of lettuce. Fifty-five pence! Not iceberg, mind. Hothouse. There’s only about ten leaves on this one here. Daylight robbery. Can you believe it? If I had any room in the yard, I’d grow my own.”

Millie didn’t doubt it. He set his shopping down on the worktop. The two women looked up at him.

“Did we have any customers while I was out?” he said, looking at Millie, as she reached for a refill.

Millie ignored him and helped herself to a turkey-and-stuffing roll. Penny knew that when Millie had gone, Daniel would ask if she had paid. She hadn’t, of course. She never did.

“Nobody’s been in,” said Penny, setting out another cup for Daniel.

Daniel took his tea through to the shop and drank it sitting at the counter. He began to arrange the freshly-baked muffins in a wicker basket. They did look very tempting, nestling there on a fresh, yellow napkin – even though Penny had been too generous with the muffin-mix and some had flowed over the sides.

“Few splashes there, I see, on the paper cases,” he said, as if to himself.

The two women exchanged knowing glances. Millie tapped the side of her head with the two fingers that held her cigarette. She was convinced that Daniel Stanley was beyond help. A tiny shower of ash drifted down to her shoulder. Men ought to be interested in boxing and football and politics and car engines. All this palaver with pastries was just ridiculous. Penny smiled with grim determination. She was fed up with Daniel, herself, but she wouldn’t admit that to her best friend.

Millie took a final puff and tossed her cigarette out into the yard.

“I’ll head on,” she said, reaching for her coat. “I’m going to the hairdresser’s. My highlights need doing again. My better half is taking me out for a meal tonight, and I’m a holy show.” She pulled on her coat. “Cheerio!” And she was gone.

“Bye!” Penny sighed. Millie’s husband might be putting on a bit of weight, but he was very passionate when the lights went out. He might be tattooed and smell of engine-oil but he was lacking nothing in the lovemaking department. A real Romeo, that’s what Millie said. Sometimes, when they came home from the pub after a good night on the batter, he got down on his knees and sang a love song to her at the top of his voice. Even at two o’clock in the morning. He would sing the song to the very end, increasing the volume substantially if the neighbours hammered on the walls with a shoe. He would kiss the soles of Millie’s tiny feet, and work his way slowly up to her laughing lips. Yes, he was a good lover. And they had six noisy children to prove it.

Penny’s own husband of seventeen years was more interested in cheesecake than he was in his wife’s feet. In all the years they had been together, Daniel had not done… anything outrageous in the bedroom. No irate neighbours ever pounded on the walls of the Stanley residence. In the early days, there had been some passionate kissing, and dancing close together in smoky nightclubs. But when they came home afterwards and made love, it was a brisk and strangely empty experience. Penny wanted to talk to Millie about it but she couldn’t. It was impossible to talk about such intimate things to Millie Mortimer or anyone else.

Daniel and Penny had never undressed in the same room. Somehow they had established a pattern of changing their clothes in the bathroom. Penny could not remember how this had happened. If a rugged welder like Jack Mortimer could kiss the stretch-marks on Millie’s stomach, and even her fluffy permed hair and her tobacco-flavoured lips, then what was the matter with Daniel? Penny had a good figure, voluptuous curves and silky-smooth skin. She had pretty lingerie and sexy perfume and perfectly painted toenails. Yet most nights, when Daniel emerged from the bathroom in his striped pyjamas, he climbed into bed and settled down with the latest cookery book. They might as well have slept in separate beds.

Penny immersed herself in romance paperbacks and when Daniel was occasionally persuaded to make love to her, she was disappointed with his modest performance. Where was the desperate tearing-off of clothes she read about in her novels? Why did he not hold her to him in the darkness, and declare that if she ever stopped loving him, his life would be without meaning? Why did desire not come to him at unusual times, in unusual places? Millie and Jack had once made love in the sand-dunes at Portstewart Strand, within earshot of some Presbyterian day-trippers. Either the paperbacks and Millie Mortimer were telling lies, or there was something wrong with Penny’s marriage…

What would Millie do if she knew that Daniel had refused to discuss even the possibility of having a child with Penny? He said they had neither the time nor the room for a baby. And that they were far too old for trips to Mothercare and pre-natal classes, anyway. If Millie knew that, she would trail Penny up the street to the solicitor’s office, and fill out the divorce petition herself. That’s what she’d do.

No, it was far too late in the day to ask for help now. Penny’s situation was the kind of thing that ended up in the gutter press:
Belfast Couple Make Sandwiches, But Not Babies!

She would die of shame if anybody knew the kind of life they led above Muldoon’s Tea Rooms. And so, she told Millie that they were just too busy to have children.

Penny poured herself another cup of tea and began to make plans.

The main thing was, she was exhausted. She began work in the shop at six thirty each morning and did not finish until well after nine in the evening. It was far too long a time to spend at work. She rarely left the building, for heaven’s sake! Daniel took the daily takings to the bank in the afternoon and managed the money side of things. But Penny knew they had more than enough to hire some staff, and do less work themselves. Penny didn’t even have to be in the shop at all, strictly speaking. Daniel could employ a couple of waitresses to replace her. At least they should have a cleaner. Who ever heard of the owner of a business cleaning her own shop? It was embarrassing.

And all the time Daniel spent on the food was beginning to drive Penny crazy. He was – what did they call it? A workaholic. She would suggest to him that they buy some pastries ready-made from a bakery, the way her father used to do, when he was the boss. That way, they could just concentrate on presentation.

And they must consider closing the shop at a reasonable hour each night, never mind the rush for snacks when the soaps were over. But that was going to be a big battle. She would need a lot of courage to even suggest something like that.

The door of the shop opened and a group of untidy schoolchildren came in, spilling bags and hockey sticks on the floor, and forming an untidy queue for filled rolls and shortcake fingers to eat on the way to school. Penny looked at their young faces and wondered if she would ever have a son or a daughter of her own to worry and fuss over. They could all have done with having their uniforms pressed and their hair combed, but they did seem to have healthy appetites, at any rate. Soon, the display case was empty. When they had gone back to school, Penny wiped a tear of longing from her eye and polished all their fingerprints off the glass.

She sliced open more rolls and forked in flakes of canned tuna and generous dabs of home-made mayonnaise, and garnished them with chives. She wiped the tables and washed the dishes. She swept the floor and thought of the beautiful kitchen in the magazine. She dreamed of perfect topiary trees, and dishwashers filled with spotless china, as she filled the sugar bowls, and picked dead flies out of the net curtain on the back door. She dreamed of huge, white sofas and fat, tasselled cushions as she carried the rubbish out to the yard.

Chapter 3