Chapter 46
Edith Waters was sitting behind the counter of her haberdashery when Kitty and Shazza walked through the door.
‘Good morning, girls,’ she said, surprised to see them. ‘How are you both today?’ She was wearing a bright tomato-red cardigan, a large yellow silk scarf which was knotted around her neck, a pair of emerald-green trousers and orange trainers.
‘Edith,’ said Kitty, ‘I wonder if you would be available to have your photograph taken? I was thinking by the harbour…’
Edith narrowed her eyes. ‘What’s this for then?’
‘A work project, selling Sandycove… it’s just for a presentation… no one will see your photograph… unless we win. Welcome Ireland has to choose the best of the best to represent Ireland as a whole. It’s just a concept…’
Edith was already nodding. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a concept,’ she said. ‘And yes, of course, I’m available. I used to help out the boys with their school projects… so lead on. To the harbour!’
The sky was blue with scudding white clouds, and the sun beamed as Shazza positioned Edith on a large granite mooring, smoothed by hundreds of years of rain and storms. Edith looked out to sea, her hair blowing in the breeze. Kitty was thinking of the slogan ‘Find your spirit’.
‘I feel like a supermodel,’ said Edith.
She was a natural, thought Kitty as she clicked away, getting the tones and the light right, and then, within minutes, they were finished.
‘I need Rory next,’ said Kitty. ‘I thought him in his van…’
‘I’ll call him,’ said Edith. She took out her phone. ‘Hello, Rory? It’s Aunt Edith here! Yes, of course, I’m all right! Yes, grand, all grand… now the reason why I am calling is to see…’
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Kitty asked Shazza, under her breath.
‘Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing him. I mean, I was trying too hard to be more like you…’
‘While I was trying to be more like you?’
‘And maybe I don’t need to be quite so nun-like… I mean just because Mr Unmentionable is verboten, it doesn’t mean all relations should be…’
Kitty smiled at her, just as they heard Edith say, ‘Where are you?’ She turned around. ‘Oh, there you are!’
Shazza and Kitty turned to see Rory’s van turning onto the harbour road, the engine roaring as he came to an abrupt halt beside them.
‘Ah, the cavalry has arrived,’ said Edith. ‘A cavalry on wheels anyway.’
‘Hello,’ Rory said, stepping out of the van, his long legs first. He kissed Edith, gave Kitty a wave, and then a sheepish, shy smile to Shazza, which she returned.
Kitty quickly explained what the project was. ‘I need you poking out of the van hatch,’ she said.
Rory was a handsome man with a brilliant smile and it was no effort to capture him, resting on his forearms, framed by the hatch. ‘Feed your soul.’
Kitty nodded with satisfaction. In her head, she was already writing the words, and she could almost guess what colours Hughie would apply.
‘Who next?’ said Rory, after they had finished. ‘I can drop you where you need to go?’ He shot another shy look at Shazza, who was pretending not to notice.
‘You can drop me back to the shop,’ said Edith. ‘And then I will leave you young ones to your project.’
Kitty was already calling Tara. ‘Hi, Tara,’ she said, ‘where are you? Would you like to have your photograph taken?’
Rory and Shazza were sitting in the front of the van together. Edith was standing on the steps at the back. ‘I’ve promised to hold on very tightly,’ she said. ‘I’ve always wanted to do this.’
The van drove off, with Edith hanging off the back, and Kitty quickly took a few photos before the van stopped for her to catch up.
Rory drove carefully and slowly, back to the village, and they heard Edith’s voice. ‘Thank you for the lift!’ she shouted. ‘My new favourite way to travel!’
Rory beeped the horn, and they drove past Edith’s flushed and happy face. ‘See you Sunday!’
Tara was at the football ground when they pulled in, dressed in the Sandycove colours. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘what will you have me doing?’
‘Whatever you want,’ said Kitty, ready with her phone, and Tara immediately began keepy-uppies, laughing while she did so. Rory and Shazza were counting along. ‘…Thirty-nine… forty…’ and Kitty snapped away. Right, she was going to be ‘Keep up with your life.’
One more, she thought. I need one more, and then I can email it to Hughie and work on the words and then… Was she really going to present it all in the morning?
Tara, who had been chatting to Rory and Shazza, said her goodbyes. ‘See you tomorrow night for the match,’ she said. ‘Sandycove Seafarers are going to win!’
Shazza and Rory were kicking a ball between them, laughing, while Kitty called the vets to see how Romeo was.
‘Hello, Sandycove Veterinary Surgery and Day Hospital, your pet is our passion, how may I help you?’
‘Hello, it’s Romeo’s owner here,’ Kitty said. ‘I am just checking to see how he is?’
‘Let me just check for you… Right, um… Romeo is a thirteen-year-old tortoiseshell male cat, of a nonchalant, disinterested temperament, is that right?’
‘Well, he’s only disinterested in other people,’ said Kitty, protectively. ‘He’s interested in me.’
‘Right… let me just check for you…’
Kitty waited for the woman to come back to her.
‘No, there is no sign of Romeo O’Sullivan yet.’
Oh God. Romeo. He had been cat-snatched by her own father. This was a new low for Billy in a lifetime of lows.
Kitty turned, in a sweat, back to Rory and Shazza. ‘Will you drop me home?’ She wanted to see if Billy had dropped Romeo there, otherwise this was a case of kitnapping.
They drove as fast as the van would go, skidding on two wheels as they rounded corners and screeched to a halt outside Kitty’s house. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before going in there.
‘We’re coming with you,’ said Shazza. ‘Aren’t we, Rory?’
‘Of course we are,’ said Rory.
The door was answered before Kitty even put her key in.
‘Well, well, well…’ It was Maureen. ‘If it isn’t my son’s fiancée, my future daughter-in-law… well, at least, that was the plan…’
‘Maureen, I’m so sorry,’ said Kitty, standing on her doorstep, Rory and Shazza just behind her. ‘It wasn’t going to work.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ agreed Shazza.
‘You can keep out of this,’ said Maureen.
Behind her, they could see Dave, peering out from behind the living-room door.
‘It was a dead horse of a relationship,’ echoed Rory, sincerely. ‘It wasn’t going to work.’
‘Who in the holy memory of the late Great Gay Byrne is this eejit?’ thundered Maureen, turning on Rory, his hair rippling in the tornado of breath.
‘Rory,’ he said. ‘Brother of Tom and Paddy, son of Rosamund, and owner of that food truck over there. Available for festivals, christenings, communions and weddings…’
‘Weddings?’ Maureen turned back to Kitty. ‘Is this some kind of joke? This morning the wedding was off, is it now on again?’
‘It’s still off,’ said Kitty. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘We all are,’ said Shazza.
‘Yes, we are,’ said Rory. ‘I was actually engaged once…’
‘You were?’ asked Shazza.
He nodded. ‘Decided not to go through with it. Didn’t feel right. Realised she didn’t make me laugh.’ He smiled at Shazza. ‘I think she was as relieved as me.’
There was a tap on Kitty’s shoulder as Maureen lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. ‘And what,’ she said in chilling tones right into Kitty’s ear, ‘were you considering doing with my RING?’
Shazza and Rory both gripped on to Kitty’s arms, as though to hold her up straight or to show that she wasn’t alone to have to deal with this lunatic.
Kitty swallowed. ‘I was going to give it back,’ she said, her voice cracking.
‘Were you now?’ shouted Maureen. ‘In my HOLE, you were! You were going to PAWN the ring, weren’t you? That’s where you’ve been all day, touring the city’s pawn shops in that old jalopy…’ She nodded towards Rory’s van.
‘Hey…’ he began, defensively.
‘Trying to see what kind of pretty penny you would have got for my ring… it being priceless…’
‘We didn’t,’ said Kitty, trying to now take it off. It had been loose for days, and now with all the stress and the racing around, she struggled to winch it off. Finally, her finger red and sore, she had it in her hand. ‘Here you go,’ she said, hand outstretched, and Maureen seized it, grabbing with the speed and agility of a child snatching a sweet, and swiftly popped it down her bra. Then, she pounced on Kitty, shaking her like a Jack Russell with its chew toy. ‘You treated my son like a plaything! Something to be discarded, decluttered, dispensed!’ Her hands were suddenly raining down on Kitty’s head and then her arm was around Kitty’s neck in a headlock, and she was aware of Rory and Shazza trying to pull her off, but for a moment, she thought that perhaps this was how her story would end, being pummelled by a woman who was so nearly her mother-in-law.
But somehow Maureen was prised off by Rory and Shazza, and there was a sound of something flying through the air with a wheeeeee like a firework. The ring had detached itself from the confines of Maureen’s bra – obviously desperate to also get away – and had flung itself for dear life.
‘MY RIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGG!’
They all watched as it landed on the grating of the drain, teetering for a moment before falling through into the dark cavern below.
‘MY RING!’ shouted Maureen, rushing over. ‘David! Call the fire brigade! Call the guards! Call an ambulance!’
Dave rushed out after her. ‘Your problem is, Kitty,’ he shouted, ‘you don’t know what you want. Hot and cold. Cold then hot.’ He glanced at Maureen, who stood glaring at Kitty. ‘Make up your mind. Actually, I’ll make up your mind. It’s off!’
‘Kitty got there first,’ said Shazza.
Dave stood in front of Kitty. ‘What do you have to say for yourself? You lost the ring.’
‘Actually, it was your mother who lost the ring,’ said Shazza.
‘I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me,’ said Dave. ‘I didn’t want to.’
Rory went to the van. In moments he had returned, brandishing a large pair of tongs. ‘My sausage turner,’ he said, jumping to the ground, and with the light from his phone torch, and one eye closed, he poked the tongs through the drain. They all held their breath. Except for Maureen, who breathed like an asthmatic dragon. But then, like a surgeon, Rory carefully pulled out the tongs. ‘Got it!’
And there, clamped in the jaws of his sausage turner was the world’s ugliest ring. He held it out to Dave.
‘There you go…’
Dave mumbled something which could have been gratitude or could easily have been something much ruder.
‘Dave,’ said Kitty, ‘where’s Romeo? Did Dad bring him back here?’
Dave shook his head. ‘Haven’t the foggiest… I really don’t care what happened to that mangey moggy. He can die for all I care.’
And that was the moment that Kitty lost all sympathy for Dave or Maureen, when she stopped feeling guilty or apologetic for everything she had contributed to this sorry state of affairs. She stood upright.
‘I think it’s time you and your mother left now,’ she said, coolly. ‘Go on. Time to go. We’ve got to find Romeo.’