Heart and Soul Part 42

They sat in Dalkey and discussed the world. Brian was having the odd problem about financing the center. He had been told to make it self-funding. How could he do that? He'd already roped all his friends in to paint the place. He'd asked Ania to make curtains and tablecloths for him. He couldn't increase the prices they charged-these young people sent so much money home already they had barely anything left to live on.

If only there was a way of making money out of the premises. It was a big hall with a few little rooms off it where people held meetings. They served tea, coffee and soup and sandwiches in the hall. Attached to it was a small chapel. After Ma.s.s on a Sat.u.r.day night or Sunday morning, Brian welcomed the various young Europeans, still a little lost in the big city and glad to have a place for coffee and a chat. He couldn't charge them high prices to make the place self-funding.

"Can you do a dance or a nightclub or something?" Johnny suggested.

"Aw, come on, Johnny. It hardly goes with the wholesome image, does it?"

"I didn't mean a strip club." Johnny was offended.

"No, I know you didn't, but judging by what nearly knocks my eyes out going along that street, we wouldn't be out of place."

"There must be something," something," Johnny said, refusing to be beaten. Johnny said, refusing to be beaten.

"Lord, it was nearly easier back in Rossmore, where people would say that we should all go up to the holy well and ask St. Ann what to do."

"But I thought you left to get away from all that." Johnny was puzzled.

"I did, but like everyone, I'm beginning to wonder was there something in it? They all came back from that mad well delighted with themselves."

"She told them what to do?"

"She planted the seeds in their heads, apparently. Don't get me started."

"And who's looking after them all now?"

"Father Tomasz. Still the nicest man that ever wore shoe leather. Mad about the b.l.o.o.d.y well. It's going stronger than ever. People want to get married there and all!" Brian stopped talking. "G.o.d Almighty!" he said suddenly.

"What is it?" Johnny thought something was wrong.

"G.o.d-that's the solution. We can have weddings at the center. I'll marry them first in the chapel, or Tomasz can come up and do the Polish ones, and then we give them a wedding breakfast in the hall. What a fantastic b.l.o.o.d.y idea!"

Clara was holding her breath about Linda. She had been to Nick's club twice. He had been to her record shop almost every day. He had said she was a genius, and what's more he had told the boss that he was mad not to take her on full-time.

Linda had thought about it for six minutes and said that was fine with her. A proper salary and a budget for promotion.

"What will you promote?" the boss had asked her, not unreasonably.

"Your store and its fine support for Irish or visiting jazz artists. You could even have a happy hour on Thursdays at late opening, get somebody to play, bring in the punters."

The boss listened with interest. He had thought she was a silly, brainless blonde with long legs who would stay for three weeks. Now she was planning on running an empire.

Hilary was also holding her breath. Nick had got a haircut. He had smartened himself up considerably. He had asked Hilary did she know of any hall he could rent, a place to give a music cla.s.s. Lovely as home was, it wasn't the place to hold a big cla.s.s with twenty people. He had been talking to somebody who had said it made more sense to teach twenty kids four chords all at the same time for a series of six Sat.u.r.days at an agreed fee. Somebody had also told him that he was nearly thirty and it was time he made people aware of how good he was. Since Hilary had been telling him the same thing for twenty years, she gasped in disbelief to think that somebody somebody-who happened to be Claras daughter-had been able to make him listen.

Linda had stopped wearing those ludicrously short skirts and high boots. Nick had bought a sweater that wasn't full of holes with threads running loose. Linda didn't talk much about Nick at home. Nick didn't speak of her to his mother. But at the heart clinic two middle-aged women talked about them all the time and were once even seen doing a little dance around Clara's desk.

On the Wednesday of the Greek feast, the twins came round early to Molly Carroll's.

"A lot of it is in the presentation ..." Maud began.

"The way you lay the dishes out," Simon added.

"We brought these little pottery plates ..."

"So we can display the meze ..."

"And we are giving the plates to Fiona ..."

"And you and Declan too ..."

Molly felt dizzy listening to them. You had to turn your head left and right as if you were watching a tennis match. But they were completely delightful and chattered on as if she was their oldest friend.

Their conversation was filled with people she had never heard of: this Vonni, and Andreas, and Andreas's brother, Yorghis, and the local doctor, Dr. Leros, who had taken bits of broken plate out of Simon's feet when he had danced too enthusiastically in a restaurant. And all the time they talked they were decorating the table with bowls of olives, flat pita bread, plates of hummus and taramasalata taramasalata and things like squid that Molly wondered if she would ever be able to eat. and things like squid that Molly wondered if she would ever be able to eat.

They had made what looked like an ordinary shepherd's pie but called it moussaka and filled it with evil-looking purple vegetables; a Greek salad of tomatoes, cuc.u.mber and feta cheese stood on the sideboard and a dessert that looked like sheets of brown paper with almonds and honey.

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 horiatiki salad but..." 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 cafe, 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 your day," Simon said, remembering. 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 is thinking of coming to your wedding," Maud said. 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 G.o.d. It wasn't her business.

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

"Red gla.s.s, apparently. Some of them are getting together in groups. There's going to be a Bohemian gla.s.s decanter and six winegla.s.ses-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 gla.s.s 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 ..." 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 a.s.sumed 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, pa.s.sing the drinks, making the conversation."

"Just making conversation, not the the conversation ..." He always corrected her gently and she tried hard to remember each time. 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 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. 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 pa.s.sed 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 gla.s.ses, 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 pa.s.sed 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 Cafe to attract the clients to come and dance. She just shook her head.