Heart and Soul (42 page)

Molly sighed. She could have done such a good joint—nice normal food—not all these silly little bowls. Paddy would have given her the best loin of lamb or rib of beef from the butchery department where he worked. But Simon and Maud had become obsessed with the celebration, and Muttie, who was some kind of relation to them, was important in Paddy's life.

Molly was getting better about sitting back and letting other people get on with things. It hadn't been easy. For years she had been running this house herself as well as working in the launderette. Every morning she had ironed one shirt for Paddy, one for Declan. She had been home to welcome them with their supper. But everything had changed.

Declan spent most of his free time with Fiona now. And she was such a good girl, too. Totally mad about Declan, of course, and good for him too. He had much more confidence these days. And Fiona made everyone laugh. She went off with Paddy and Muttie and drank pints in their pub; she had taken Molly herself off to the zoo for a great day and Fiona had talked to everyone and they spent hours looking at the exotic birds and went nowhere near the lions.

So, if Fiona liked all this greasy food served in tiny dishes, then why not? Molly would join in. She was wearing her smart new tartan dress and tried desperately to understand who the twins were talking about.

“Of course Adoni says our tomatoes are wrong for the
horiatiki
salad but…”

“But Vonni said that Irish tomatoes are fine if you brush a little honey over them …”

“It's a kind of creative thing to do, making a meal…” Simon seemed surprised by the thought.

“Molly knows this. She's been making Paddy and Declan meals for years.” Maud was more tactful.

Molly let it all wash over her until she heard the key turn in the lock. Declan and Fiona were home. They had picked Paddy up at the pub. The feast could now begin.

The twins carefully explained every dish as if they had invented it. The Carrolls listened, entranced, as the twins told of the midnight café, the market in the square, of the crowds that came up every night to Andreas, how Simon and Maud had worked there at night as well as in Vonni's shop during the day. Adoni had even organized a truck that left the square every hour to ferry people up and back.

“Oh, they're not nearly as tough now as they were in my day. We had to haul ourselves up there all by ourselves!” Fiona said.

“Was your day a long time ago?” Simon asked.

Fiona waited politely for Maud to finish the sentence, but Maud was uncharacteristically looking down at the tablecloth.

“Oh, yes, sorry, we weren't to talk about
your
day,” Simon said, remembering.

“It's just that Vonni said it wasn't the best of times for you,” Maud said.

“No, it wasn't, but the place was terrific and even though I was being very foolish over a fellow at the time, I met a lot of good friends, and I'm thrilled that you met some of them too.”

So it hadn't been a disaster after all. Simon let his breath out slowly. “Oh, they were wonderful people and we'll never be able to thank you enough for introducing us,” he said.

“I heard you were great workers and great company. She misses your chats,” Fiona said.

“We showed her how to text, but I don't think it's going to be her thing.”

“No, I can't see her doing it,” Fiona agreed.

“But she
is
thinking of coming to your wedding,” Maud said.

“We haven't actually set the date yet,” Declan pointed out.

“We said it wasn't definite …” Simon said.

“…but it would probably be before the end of the summer …” Maud explained.

“… while the good weather is still here …”

“… and the days are longer.”

“Great,” Fiona said, laughing. “You seemed to have covered all the main points. And do you think she'll come?”

“She wasn't going to and we told her that you considered her a great friend …”

“… and that friendship should never be one-sided …”

“…and she saw the sense of that.”

“She does know how to get cheap flights online …”

“We went down to the Aghia Anna Beach Hotel and showed her how to get online. The manager says he'll boot her up.”

“So there shouldn't be any problem.”

“And of course, it sorted out our career,” Simon said.

“We know now what we want to do,” Maud said.

“And what's that exactly?” Declan asked.

“We are going to be in the catering industry,” Simon said proudly as if he was about to open his restaurant that night.

Fiona told Ania all about the Greek feast the next day as they were getting the treatment rooms ready.

“They sound wonderful,” Ania said.

“It's better than being at a play, watching them. They've decided to go into catering and they're going to do some kind of night lectures and then learn all that can be taught while actually on the job. Their cousin-in-law runs this company, Scarlet Feather, and they're going to get some practice there.”

“Scarlet Feather! It is the catering company that is doing the food for Carl's parents’ ruby wedding!” Ania was pleased to be part of things.

“Well, you might even meet them there, or maybe it's too important a do for them to let Maud and Simon loose on it.”

“Oh, I haven't been invited,” Ania said.

“But you will be. You're Carl's girlfriend.”

“I am Carl's friend, yes, and I am a girl, yes, but I am not a girlfriend,” Ania said. “I do not want to raise my hopes too high.”

“But he comes in to teach you English once a week. He always talks to you when he's here with his father. You and he have been to art galleries and museums and the theater.” Fiona was confused.

“That's only to make me less stupid. Less thick,” Ania said.

Fiona suddenly wished that Declan hadn't said that they would go to this bloody party. If Ania wasn't there it would be like an act of betrayal. Then on her way out to lunch, Fiona saw Carl Walsh coming in. She debated asking him whether or not Ania was being invited to the ruby wedding. But suppose the answer was no? Anyway, she mustn't try to play God. It wasn't her business.

“What will people give to your parents as gifts on their ruby wedding day?” Ania asked Carl.

“Red glass, apparently. Some of them are getting together in groups. There's going to be a Bohemian glass decanter and six wineglasses—that's from one group. Red coffee cups from another. And another are getting two huge salad bowls. It's all nonsense really—they have enough dishes and glass to last them the rest of their lives.”

“Perhaps their friends want to celebrate,” Ania suggested. “You live in a happier, more honest world,” Carl said to her. “This is all to show off the house, the caterers, the view, everything.”

“But people will have a good time? Yes?”

“Er …well…
you
will have a good time, I hope …”

“I am to be invited?” Ania's eyes were bright with excitement. “Of course. You're my great friend, aren't you?”

“I will receive an invitation, like the other guests?”

“Yes, if you want one, Ania. But I always assumed you were going to come. I can't do it without you.”

“Thank you so much, Carl. I was afraid, well, you know … I didn't really think…”

“Just think how miserable I would be there if I didn't have you to talk to.”

“But you will need to be talking with your parents’ friends, passing the drinks, making the conversation.”

“Just making conversation, not
the
conversation …” He always corrected her gently and she tried hard to remember each time.

“It will be wonderful,” she said happily. “I will make good conversation to people and I will dress well to do you credit.”

“You couldn't
notdo
me credit,” he said, and he looked at her for a long time over their tomato sandwiches until eventually he broke the moment and got out the English grammar book to carry on where they had left off last time.

The days passed quickly then. Ania got yet another job. She needed extra money to pay for her dress. Not one cent of her savings would be taken from the fund she was building up for her mamusia.

While clearing tables and collecting glasses, she came across a Chinese man who was offering a boy the chance to work four hours a week helping to weed and replant window boxes in a big apartment block. The boy said the hours didn't suit, so Ania offered to do it. She was astounded at the luxury of these sea-view apartments as she went in and out of the lavish places. It wasn't far from where the Walshes lived. In fact she passed their house every time she went out that way to the tree-lined roads of the coast.

She wore cheap cotton gloves and covered her hands in Vaseline. Yes, it was a job, and a good one, but she didn't want to go to this great party with rough hands full of earth and soil. The Chinese man, whose name was Mr. Chen, was silent and helpful. She learned quickly, turning the soil, feeding the plants and replacing those that had been allowed to die of neglect. She also had a tin of white paint to touch up the window boxes where they were showing wear and tear.

Ania looked in wonder at the stylish furnishings in the apartments: the elegant chairs and the padded window seats, where the
owners could sit and look out at the sea. It was a different world from her own. When she woke up in her flat she saw rooftops from the small window. There were no window boxes, no wide marble stairs with great fern planters on the landings. But Ania hadn't any sense of envy. All these people, or at least their parents, must have worked hard to get such great wealth. It was open to anyone who might work.

And then Barbara and Fiona took her to their favorite thrift shops to find something to wear for the party. They moved confidently through the rails of clothes, offering a garment here and there. But Ania shook her head. They were too short, too tight, too revealing. Too much like the clothes that Marek had wanted her to wear in the Bridge Café to attract the clients to come and dance. She just shook her head.

“God, if I looked like you, I'd wear that,” Barbara said, looking admiringly at a black leather dress with metal decorations.

“Why don't you wear it?” Ania asked.

“Because I couldn't squeeze my huge bosoms into it.”

“I would so love to have huge bosoms,” Ania said.

“It's a known fact that no woman is satisfied with the size of her breasts,” Fiona said sagely.

“But you, Fiona? You don't want different bosoms surely?” Ania was startled.

“Indeed I do, and so does everyone in this shop. But the main thing is not to spend any time worrying about it. What about this red dress? It would look terrific on you.”

“It has no sleeves and I have arms like the little matchsticks.”

“Do you know what would be lovely?” Barbara was thoughtful. “If we could just find someone who can sew, they could put lovely lacy sleeves onto that red dress and it would be perfect.”

“Sew? I can sew,” Ania said.

And soon they had found an old lace blouse which Ania said would be child's play to unpick to make sleeves for the dress.

“We'll knock that awful Mrs. Walsh's eyes right into the back of her head,” Fiona said triumphantly.

“No, no. Don't say that. She has been kind. She invited me.”

Ania would not be brought down. This had been a wonderful visit. The cost had been tiny. Ania still had money for a hairdo. Things were really looking up.

Cathy and Tom Feather looked around the house. It was as airy and elegant as they would have expected from the outside. But they were more interested in working out the technicalities: where to park the catering vans so that they were not too obvious, where they would set up the bar, would the guests have their drinks out on the big balcony, which room to set up the coat rails. They checked the guest bathroom and the tables and chairs for the guests to sit.

Mrs. Walsh asked questions with a slight whine in her voice.
“How many staff will you have?” Her husband was in a chair with a stick beside him; he was so full of smiles and enthusiasm, it almost made up for the wife.

“We will both be here with a barperson and a waiter and also you will be glad to know we have two trainees, excellent young people, so they will be here as backup.” Cathy managed to be both calming and efficient, but Rosemary Walsh was determined to find fault.

“We thought we were paying for a
professional
service.” The whine in her voice had become more pronounced.

“And indeed we will offer you a
highly
professional service, Mrs. Walsh. The Mitchell twins will be here to observe: they will stay in the background, take coats, help with parking. Very often a hostess likes extra hands to pass around canapés at the start of an evening to break the ice. We thought you would be delighted to have two extra people at no extra cost.”

Rosemary Walsh felt she was being corrected, very politely, but it annoyed her.

“Yes, well, it's just this is the last big party we will have,” she began.