Scarlet Feather by Maeve Binchy

have given specific instructions for a quick sale, and so of course we need to do a very intensive search in case there’s something to conceal.’
    ‘Of course,’ Cathy and Tom agreed through gritted teeth. Why couldn’t barristers or solicitors ever believe that people might just be telling the truth, that these Maguires were so anxious for their money, and to forget their old life, that they wanted to sell? But they knew it had to be done by the book no matter how slow and laborious. There was one message each on their mobile phones when they got back to the van. Cathy was to ring her aunt Geraldine. Urgently. Tom was to ring his father. They stood at either end of the van, talking. They finished and came back to sit down, both in good humour.
    ‘Well, you first,
was
it a crisis?’ he asked.
    ‘Absolutely not. It was great news, she knows a restaurant selling up a rake of kitchen equipment, cookers as good as new, an enormous chest freezer. We can go over there after we’ve visited
your
Dad and look at them today.’
    Tom said nothing.
    ‘And you?’ Cathy asked.
    His father had agreed to do the building job but it involved putting someone else on hold. If Tom went round to sort that out and kept the name of Feather looking good, then it was a deal.
    ‘He’s around at the premises already, with two lads. There’s an authorisation in from the Maguires; they want their equipment moved out and sold, so Da and the others are clearing the place. You can go there, can you?’
    ‘Sure.’ Cathy hoped they wouldn’t mind talking to a girl about it.
    ‘He thinks talking to me about building is
worse
than talking to a girl,’ Tom said ruefully.
    ‘But he needs you to do something more important?’
    ‘Yes; talk nice to some architect and persuade him that my father and the team aren’t a pack of cowboys.’
    ‘What will you say?’ Cathy was interested.
    ‘I’ll tell them the truth. It’s amazing how often that works; tell them that the young Feather has a chance to do well. Might even pick up a bit of business for us – you never know.’ He had such an engaging grin, Cathy knew it would work out.

    JT Feather was a man very anxious that things should be done right. That no short cuts be taken, that the authorities never be offended in any way.
    Cathy parked the van and noted with pleasure the way the place was being cleared out. The men had been working hard.
    ‘You know it’s very irregular, doing all this before the contract is signed.’
    ‘You have their fax, Mr Feather. They want it this way.’
    ‘But all my life I’ve worked on the principle that you don’t touch a place until it is legally yours.’ He frowned a lot.
    ‘We’re getting equipment this week; we have to have somewhere to plug it in.’
    ‘Ah, not this week, Cathy, be reasonable. The floors have to be done, the walls hacked out and made good, there has to be a full paint job… There are a hundred details that have to be sorted out.’
    ‘We’ll talk about the details later. Tom told you, Mr Feather, we have to be up and running at the end of the month.’
    ‘That boy was always a dreamer, will you look at the notions he had about this and that. You’re never taking his timetable seriously, a sensible girl like you?’
    ‘Oh, believe me, it’s my timetable too, and we have a reception planned for the last Friday in January.’
    ‘There’s no rush, girl, the job must be properly done.’
    ‘No, there isn’t
time
to have it properly done. Three more catering firms will have opened and taken the business unless we get in there quick.’
    ‘But the regulations, Cathy…’ He was pale with anxiety.
    Was this better or worse than her own reckless father, who would have put the deeds of the house on the next race if her mother hadn’t kept them well hidden?
    ‘I won’t delay you, Mr Feather, I have to take some measurements for equipment that I’m going to buy today.’
    ‘Today?’ She could hear him gasp but she took