The Hat Shop on the Corner (19 page)

‘A kind heart for a good cause,’ remarked her aunt, patting her hand. ‘And this
bonne bouche
?’

The pink and red disc with a feather cut and shaped like a paintbrush across the centre had been commissioned by an artist with a studio in Baggot Street. Janna Rowan’s summer exhibition was opening in the Hallward Gallery in a few days’ time.

‘She wanted something to get her noticed!’

‘Well, you tell her she succeeded,’ giggled Yvette. ‘And this?’

Ellie could see her aunt’s delight as she examined the gold spun-silk topper with its whorls of Irish cream linen.

‘It’s to co-ordinate with a beautiful linen dress and jacket that the client got made for her wedding. It’s very intricate but I managed to get some offcuts and shape them, then I sprayed them with a little stiffener.’

‘The gold and the cream is delicious and the Celtic influence with the pattern of the Irish linen,
merveilleux
!’

‘Do you really like them?’ Ellie could not believe the reaction of such an accomplished hatmaker to her work.

‘Elise,
tais-toi
! In all my years have I ever lied to you? No, I am always honest, which as you know has caused me problems. These hats of yours are so pretty and stylish and each in its own way contains your
joie de vivre
, which is as it should be. Madeleine’s business has changed, it is refreshed. You are young with the new ideas and your own designs. A born milliner!’

Ellie felt an overwhelming sense of pride as her aunt definitely did not give praise lightly.

‘Now I have seen the shop I can rest easy,’ Yvette admitted. ‘It is a great success and I am so proud of you,
ma petite
Elise.’

Ellie hugged her aunt and was enveloped in a cloud of perfume.

‘So let us go for lunch!’ suggested Yvette.

They got a table in Fitzers café on Dawson Street, her aunt remarking on all the changes in the area as they ate.

‘Years ago when we were young, women wore hats, they dressed up, took care of themselves coming into town, going to work, going out, socializing. Good coats to keep them warm and hats to keep their heads warm also and protect their hairstyles and hide those bad hair days. They walked, took the tram, the metro, the bus. Then it all changed. They wore leggings and tracksuits and those awful headbands and jogged or took their cars everywhere. Now it is come full circle again, I think. Style is back. Women want to look good again.’

Ellie loved listening to her aunt’s thoughts on style and fashion.

‘Look around us. This town is full now that Catholic Ireland has decided to go shopping on a Sunday!’ Yvette said wryly. ‘At least the small businesses do not have to open on the holy day! That is for the big stores and boutiques.’

‘The small businesses are finding it hard,’ explained Ellie, outlining what was happening in their own street, and how so many shops were closing down. ‘We are having a meeting next week about it.’

‘They must hold tight, your little shopkeepers,’ insisted Yvette, spearing a juicy prawn on her fork. ‘
Naturellement
the gallerias and the large department stores bring thousands of people to shop every day but there is still enough bread to go round for everyone. I promise. Just look at Paris. We have the best shopping in the world, huge stores, but many of our finest shops are small, exquisite and individual.’

Afterwards they strolled along by Trinity College and down to Merrion Square, where artists were bargaining and selling their paintings from the display on the park railings. On a sunny day they always attracted a huge crowd. Back at home her aunt rested for a little while before Ellie cooked a simple chicken and vegetable dish for the two of them. They sat up till late talking about family holidays in the Renchard house in Provence, and the good times they’d both shared with her mother.

The next three days passed far too quickly as Yvette expressed a wish to visit her sister’s grave in Wicklow and they managed to get tickets for the new Marina Carr play in the Abbey Theatre. Ellie persuaded Rory to join them for supper, though he couldn’t make it to the theatre as he was going on to a music gig in Whelan’s.

He was chatty and charming and very polite to her aunt, ordering her an aperitif and asking about her shop in Paris and the state of the French economy. For once he had put on a shirt. OK, so it was black, but at least he had made an effort to impress her relative.

Ellie smiled as he tried to give her aunt a rundown of the Irish music industry and the top bands over their wild salmon served with baby new potatoes. She could see he was charming Yvette just the way he charmed all the women who crossed his path.

After the play Ellie and Yvette went back to the flat to drink coffee and enjoy a Baileys nightcap before they went to bed.

‘Ellie, I hope you don’t think that I am being intrusive but this young man in your life, is he important?’

‘We are seeing each other.’ She hesitated. ‘But not for very long.’

‘Do you love him?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted, wondering if Rory was the type to fall in love with.

‘Then I hope he is good to you,’ said her aunt, staring at her intently. ‘He is not a professional, his career is perhaps erratic, and he is a little
dangereux
. But love is important, always remember that. Your mother knew it, she followed her heart!’

Ellie waited for a lecture about the mistake her mother had made in running off with her father and was surprised when her aunt said the opposite.

‘Your mother, she fell in love with her Irishman and followed him here. She truly loved your father. Of course you know that. Despite everything I don’t think she ever stopped loving him. Perhaps she hoped that some day Philip would come back to her. She was
désolée
– devastated, is that the word? – when she heard he’d passed away.’

‘I remember,’ said Ellie softly. ‘Uncle Pat phoned to tell us about his heart attack.’

‘Madeleine never hesitated in the matters of the heart,’ continued her aunt. ‘And look at what she got in return, a beautiful daughter, so like herself, a business which gave her immense pleasure, along with an income and a life I would say well lived, and she was spared the awful indignities of old age.’

‘Thank you,’ whispered Ellie, moved by her aunt’s truth and honesty.

‘I on the other hand have my business. I am a wonderful success, so they tell me. I worked so hard I turned my nose up at all the young men who might have made a good match, and even the old men if truth be told. I had no time for romance and love. Then I discovered I’d left it too late – so here I am with only Monique’s two big hulking boys and you, my dear, to enjoy. The fine things of life are all very well but it is nice to have someone to share them with.’

Ellie had never imagined Yvette having any regrets. Now she realized how solitary her life must be at times.

‘I think that you are a lot like your mother. But promise me you will not make the same mistakes as your proud old aunt,’ she joked.

‘I’ll try,’ said Ellie, hugging her.

Ellie was surprised at how sad she was to see her aunt return to Paris.

‘Promise me you will come in the autumn, when you are not so busy,’ urged Yvette. ‘The apartment is huge and you are welcome to bring some friends or even that charming boyfriend of yours.’

Ellie promised, imagining Rory and herself walking hand in hand along the Left Bank or exploring the Musée d’Orsay as the autumn leaves fell.

             

The meeting of the South Anne Street traders took place after the shops and businesses had closed on Friday evening. Reverend Lewis, the rector of St Anne’s Church, was an affable and easygoing host, making them all feel welcome as they streamed in and helped themselves to tea and coffee. Damien Quinn, who owned the deli, provided sandwiches for everyone. Ellie was delighted to see that Mo Brady and a few of their local councillors were present.

‘Work has already begun on the development of the galleria and hotel on our street,’ announced Frank Farrell, first to speak, his face serious. Farrell Antiques was a longstanding family firm and one of the oldest on the street. ‘Some of these buildings have been vacant for years and from looking at the plans and the photomontages, this new scheme could be a big improvement. However, what does concern and worry us is that Casey Coleman Holdings are now seeking to extend their scheme. They seem to be trying to buy up the shops adjacent to their site, and to attain as many properties on the opposite side of the street from the new galleria as possible. There are even rumours that they intend to open a large retail store across from the galleria. They are looking for planning extensions, and all kinds of permissions. Changes on this scale would have huge ramifications for those of us still trading.’

‘The thing is,’ said Scottie O’Loughlin, getting to his feet, ‘most of us here tonight want to stay on in the street. We are not interested in relocating, or retiring and closing down. These are our businesses that we have worked hard to build up over the years. We need to let the City Council, Casey Coleman Holdings, the planning department, the government, landlords, whoever it is that matters, know that we are not going anywhere. We are staying.’

He got huge applause and support. Ellie smiled, knowing that at least they were all united in wanting the same thing.

‘We need to show the council and the planning people that we object to what they are doing,’ Damien Quinn added. ‘That we should be involved and consulted about what is going on in the street where we own our properties. Most of us owned our properties long before Casey Coleman Holdings arrived.’

‘Hear, hear!’

‘But we’ve already written and objected, phoned, done everything we can,’ said Kitty Kavanagh. ‘All to no avail.’

‘Maybe we should protest?’ suggested Gary Murphy from the art and print shop. ‘It might get us noticed.’

‘We could march on the Dail,’ suggested Leo from the Italian restaurant.

‘Please may I say a few words,’ interrupted Mo Brady. ‘I don’t know if you realize how many marches there are on the Dail every month. Unless you have a crowd of thousands that will stop traffic and bring the city to a standstill, there is absolutely no point in a march. I can tell you that.’

They could all sense the disappointment in the room, as there was no way a few shopkeepers could rally such massive support.

‘What about if we staged a protest directly outside the Dail and government buildings?’

‘There are protests almost every day,’ Mo added. ‘Obviously some get more notice and news coverage than others. If you want to save your street, you need to do something different, something newsworthy.’

‘We could close up our shops for a day,’ suggested Kitty Kavanagh, ‘in protest.’

‘But sure, what good will that do?’ asked Scottie O’Loughlin. ‘People won’t care if we close for a day or go on strike.’

‘We need to bring more people into the street, not send them away,’ argued Ellie.

‘We need to attract crowds if we want to save our street. Let them know why we want to keep businesses like ours open.’

‘The street is closed off to traffic already during opening hours, so maybe we should use that? Think of all the pedestrians who are on our street every day, passing through to get to Grafton Street,’ urged Damien.

‘What can we do?’ A rumble of questions went up around the room.

‘We can show them what we do,’ said Gary. ‘I spend my day framing pictures, posters, photographs. I already have some displayed outside the door, but I could put my table outside too. Talk to anyone who’s interested about some of the beautiful prints and pieces we have and how I work.’

‘People are always interested in antiques,’ mused Frank Farrell. ‘Finding out how old things are, if they are antique and of course if they are valuable.’

‘Like that programme on the TV,’ joked Sissy Kavanagh. ‘Kitty and I love it.’

‘I suppose I’d be prepared to sit at a table outside the shop for a day and people could bring their pieces for me to look at, no valuation charge for getting my expert opinion.’

‘And I could demonstrate how to trim a summer hat,’ offered Ellie.

‘Well, this certainly sounds a bit different,’ applauded Mo. ‘Think of the crowds and the publicity it would get!’

‘I have those kites you put together and those lovely new blue sailboats that need a bit of work,’ joked Scottie, getting into the swing of things. ‘And a few of those free bubble-blowers should go down a treat with the kids.’

‘We could demonstrate how to make proper pasta. Make a perfect pizza, give some free samples,’ offered Leo and his wife Andrea.

Nearly everyone on the street agreed that they had something they could do.

‘Will we be closing for the day?’ asked Noel Hanratty, who ran the small jeweller’s.

‘Yes,’ said Frank firmly.

‘So we have to close up and have no sales?’

‘Better no sales and goodwill for a day than closed up for good,’ said Scottie seriously. ‘We have to give this a shot.’

Noel had no intention of putting his precious stones and valuable diamonds on display but did agree to show how to clean and polish jewellery and advise on redesigning old, outdated pieces.