The Cat's Pajamas

by Soraya May

  I watched it for a moment, and then my tears finally came.

  35

  Ryan

  I flexed my arm, and opened and closed my hand, trying to force some blood back into my fingers as I reached for my phone; I’d been so intent on my notes I hadn’t moved from my office chair in half an hour or more. My little faculty office was piled high with books and unread papers—I should either get on that, or recycle them into papier-mâché—and my desk was jammed up against the wall. Not that I spent much time here, anyway; when I got home from Cable Bay last night, I dumped my bags and went straight to bed. This morning, I grabbed everything I could and was in my office by seven to work on my presentation to the Heritage Committee.

  “Hi Mom. Everything okay?”

  “Fine, sweetheart.” There was a pause. “What happened with Cat?”

  Uhh. I still really didn’t want to think about this. “You talked to Antoinette, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did. Family members talk to each other, about other family members. That is a thing which happens in families who love each other.”

  “Alright, alright. It—it didn’t work out, that’s all.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  I shook my head, frustrated. “Look, I’ve got this presentation in thirty minutes. This isn’t something I really want to dwell on right now. But, since I know you won’t give up until I do, here’s what happened. The bar belongs to Cat, she found my notes, thought that I’d been deceiving her about the demolition, and now she doesn’t want to know me. Says she wants to forget the whole thing.”

  “And had you? Been deceiving her?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much. It wasn’t intentional, but I thought it would mean the end of…what we had, and I didn’t want it to end.”

  “I see.”

  Before she could say anything else, I carried on. “Look, I know what you’re going to say, okay? You keep telling me to make this work, to find a solution. Believe me, Mom, I would have loved to do that.” My voice was harder than I’d wanted it to be, but I was sick and tired of dwelling on this. “Cat was wonderful, she honestly was. I’ve never met anyone like her. But there aren’t any solutions, not any more. I made a mistake; she made a decision. That’s the end of our story.”

  “Ryan, I know this is hard.” Her voice was gentle, and I immediately felt guilty. “But when I visit the home, and your father’s having a bad day, do you know what I think about? Do you know what keeps me going? The thought of you having the same experiences, the same joy, that we did.“ Her voice caught. “Even if—sometimes your father doesn’t remember them, that doesn’t mean they didn’t happen. We had so many wonderful times together, so much joy, more than anyone could ever have hoped for.”

  “I know, Mom. I’m really glad you did. You and Dad deserved it.”

  “So, that’s all I’m going to say, then. That you deserve it too. That I want you to have that kind of joy, and however you find it, your father and I will always love you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I sighed, my frustration subsiding. “If I could do half of what you guys have done together, I’d be a happy man.”

  “You will, sweetheart, you will. Now get out there, and tell those dried-up old men to make with the cash. Did you know John Watson asked me out on a date once, many years ago?”

  I snorted. “Did he? I won’t mention that at the committee meeting.”

  “No, don’t. Especially since I turned him down for your Dad.”

  “Dr. Sanders?”

  I looked up from my notes on the lectern and blinked. “Right. Sorry, I was—sorry.” Reaching for the laser pointer, I indicated a spot on the presentation behind me.

  “As you can see here, the original foundations of the building are still completely intact. In fact it’s been preserved in quite a miraculous state, despite heavy use for the better part of a century, up until a few years ago. It’s quite a testament to the quality of the original construction.”

  Closest to me on the table, John Watson stroked his graying beard and nodded. “Dr Sanders, you’re right. It certainly is an important construction, and we’re fortunate that you were able to identify it, despite it being outside your original brief. But it does present us with a problem, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid it does. May I summarize for the rest of the committee?”

  “Please do.”

  I explained, hands moving quickly in the air. “During the investigation of the proposed dig site, we’ve discovered that the building on top of the site is itself historically significant. It was originally a clearing-house and trading post, and in fact a lot of artifacts from that period are still present in the building.” Paging back a few slides, I indicated with the pointer again. “You can see here that the frame of the building is completely original; no significant alterations have been made for the last hundred years.”

  Stepping away from the lectern, I came and sat at the head of the table. Eight pairs of eyes watched me closely. “So, on the face of it, it would seem like we have a dilemma; either we demolish a significant piece of recent history, or we allow a significant piece of prehistory to deteriorate underneath it. Neither is very appealing, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Around the table, heads shook slowly. I smiled. “However, there is a third option, and it’s described in my submissions to the committee, here.” I patted a ring-bound document. “You each have a copy in front of you, and I’d like to ask the committee to adjourn and consider it. I concede that it won’t be cheap, but it will allow us to meet all of our goals in a single project.”

  Writing something on a pad in front of him, John inclined his head. “Politically, that would be a win funding-wise. I think we could justify it given what you’ve presented here today.”

  Across the table, a lady with a carefully-coiffed bob and a conservatively-cut jacket flicked through the pages in front of her. “Dr. Sanders, surely this would be a very long and drawn-out process. Would you propose to supervise it yourself?”

  John shook his head vigorously. “Erica, this wouldn’t be a good use of Dr. Sanders’ time. He’s—how shall I put this—one of the department’s stars? I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere in Cable Bay for any longer than necessary.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, John, that’s very kind of you.” He looked across the table. “To answer your question, Erica, this would be a fascinating job, and under normal circumstances I would be delighted to do it.” I shook my head, a little sadly. “But, given the…circumstances…I think it’s best if someone else takes over from me at this point.”

  Even if I can’t have Cat, I can give her what she wanted.

  36

  Cat

  I opened the door. “Come on in, everyone. Welcome back to Wunderbar.”

  On the other side stood a small crowd of people, spilling out down the stairs and onto the grass lawn. Farrah and Bea were at the front, right on the doorstep, and they waved as my face appeared around the door.

  “Hey, honey. Look how many people are here!” Farrah wore a knee-length bottle-green dress with intimidating shoulder pads; by rights she should have looked ridiculous, like a sexy leprechaun, or an extra from an episode of Dynasty, but somehow she looked fantastic. I made a mental note to ask her how the hell she did it, and if she could teach me before I left.

  “Wow.” There were actually a lot of people, and it took them a little while to all shuffle into the bar, blinking as their eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight.

  Farrah nudged Bea, standing next to her. “Your turn to do the talking this time, Macfarlane. Remember? We agreed.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay. We came to give you something.” Bea was holding a cardboard box, about twelve inches square, and she thrust it at me. “Here.”

  Gingerly, I took the box in one hand, and flipped up the lid.

  It was a cake, a large round white-iced one, with the words ‘SCAT T HANK’ arranged around the edge in
black letters. “Wow.” I glanced at Bea. “Did you…?”

  Bea snorted. “Are you kidding? I couldn’t bake to save my life. Bob did it.”

  Behind her, the older man pointed at the letters. “They’re all in the right order, but I think the spacing isn’t quite right.” He looked a bit uncomfortable. “It was my first attempt, to be honest.”

  I smiled despite myself. “It’s great, Bob.”

  “And, uh…”

  “What?”

  “Well, I had to leave it in the cold-smoker to cool, because I didn’t have anywhere else. Ross came by to borrow some tackle, and I thought Sultan was going to get at it, you see? But then I forgot about it, and—so, anyway, it might smell a little like smoked fish. And maybe taste a little bit like it too.”

  I looked at Bea, who returned my gaze levelly, and tried to keep from giggling. “It’s really kind of you, Bob. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to say something as well.” Bea cleared her throat. “And this is from all of us. Right?” She turned, and her gaze swept over the others. With a slight deer-in-headlights look, they all nodded. “It’s been good since you’ve been here. This place, right?” she indicated the bar, “everyone enjoys coming here, and that makes a difference.”

  I was genuinely touched. “Thanks, Bea.”

  “Yeah, hold on. There’s something else. Even if you’re not staying, we all want you to come back for a visit.” Again she indicated the assembled crowd, “Don’t we?”

  The chorus of ‘yes’ was ragged but nonetheless heartfelt. I looked out over the assembled crowd. They think this is where I belong, even if I don’t believe it myself.

  “Thank you, all of you.” I called over their heads. “This is really sweet of you.”

  “Hey, Cat!” Jack Collis’ voice came from the back. “Do you know what happened with Ryan? I mean, he didn’t say anything to me in the taxi before he left, but now he’s, well…” He tailed off, not sure how to put what he was going to say.

  I smiled sadly. “I don’t know, Jack. I wish I could tell you I knew. But, whatever happens,” I raised my voice again, “I’ve had a wonderful time here. And it was all because of you; every single person I’ve met since I came here has been kind, and accepting, and helpful.” I looked down. “And that includes you, Bea.”

  “Whaddya mean?” Bea responded with mock-outrage, but she was smiling all the same. “Everyone here is gonna miss you, and we all wish you weren’t going.”

  I peered at the cake again.

  It does have a definite, if mild, air of smoked fish about it.

  Looking at the crowd again, all waiting expectantly for me, I sighed. “I know, and I’m going to miss all of you. But maybe there’s an upside to moving on. As much as I would like to stay, I…I don’t know what I’d do here without the bar. Plus,” I tried to brighten my voice, “if this is a significant historical site, then it’ll definitely be worth something for the area. Jack, you’ll have to buy another taxicab; Bob, you should think about selling that smoked fish commercially.”

  I carried on for a few minutes, doing my best to talk brightly. By the time I’d finished, everyone was smiling.

  “Well,” Jack said, finally, “whatever you decide to do, Cat, you’ll always be welcome here, okay?” A chorus of agreement went around the group, and I had to blink quickly and look away for a moment.

  “Thanks, everyone. That really means a lot to me.”

  Behind me, the door opened, quietly, and I didn’t hear it. I saw the look on Farrah’s face before I sensed anything else; a flash of recognition, followed by wonder, followed by her eyes flicking quickly to me.

  “Hi. I’m new in town.” When I heard that voice, the air got swimmy around me all of a sudden.

  Ryan was behind me. Before I could say anything, he walked over, past the small crowd gathered in the middle of the floor, and pulled out a stool on the end of the bar.

  Sitting down, he looked straight at me. “I heard I could get a rye and dry here.” No-one said anything.

  I pulled out another stool, and sat opposite him. “I’m afraid we’re closed.” He looked just the way I remembered when he first walked in, tall and lean and angular, with that twinkle of excitement, or discovery, in his smile.

  Half of me wanted to scream at him, tell him to leave and not come back. The other half wanted to study every line of his face, committing it to memory.

  If I can’t have him, at least I can have the memory of him.

  He looked down at the floor. “That’s too bad.” Reaching into his jacket, he took out a piece of paper. “I had something to deliver to the owner.”

  I took the piece of paper from him, hoping that the shaking of my hands wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “Look, it’s okay. You did your job, and I understand that. I know you couldn’t do anything else.” I stood up, holding on to the bar to keep myself steady. “I’m going to leave town. This is my going-away celebration you just crashed.”

  Ryan stood up, and reached out both hands to grip my shoulders, but I backed away from him. “Cat, wait.” He took a deep breath. “Before you do anything, just read that piece of paper, okay?”

  “Ryan, I know what’s going to happen. I read up about it myself.” I tried as hard as I could to keep my voice level. “The building is going to be compulsorily acquired. A government valuation expert will be appointed to appraise the value of the property. I’ll get a generous offer, but in the end I won’t have any power to stop what’s going on.” I put the paper down on the bar. “I get it, Ryan. You don’t need to explain it to me.”

  “Cat, I did this for you, even though—” he tailed off. “Will you please just read the damn piece of paper?”

  Something about his tone made me stop. Without looking at him, I picked the folded letter off the table again and began to read.

  It is the decision of the Historic Places Trust that the property at 22 Reefton Road, currently occupied by the business trading as ‘Wunderbar’, is a Category 1 historic place as defined in the Historic Places Act (1993). This category denotes a place of ‘special or outstanding historical or cultural significance or value’ and provides for specific protections under the Act which…

  As I read on and on, Ryan’s hand moved to touch my shoulder. When I’d finished, I looked up and his eyes were on me.

  “Cat, do you see what this means?” His voice was hoarse, and I realized he was nervous. “This building,” he gestured around him, “is a historic place in itself. That means it has to be preserved. So it can’t be demolished.”

  “So-so what would happen to it? What about the excavation? What about the fossils underneath?”

  He stepped closer to me, and this time I didn’t back away. “Under the terms of the proposal I made to the committee, the work will have to take place around the bar. As a heritage site, the bar will become a tourist attraction. It’s going to cost a lot, but,” he smiled, “it’s worth it to preserve history.”

  “How did this happen?” I stared at him. “I thought you were here just to excavate the site in the basement?”

  Taking the letter out of my hands, he clasped his hands around mine, and I was too surprised to pull away. “I was. But while I was here, some things happened. I opened my eyes, and I started to look around. I saw how this building hasn’t changed in a hundred years, and I started to wonder if maybe it was significant for itself, not just because of what was beneath it. That’s why I went to the library.”

  Now, he was standing directly in front of me; I tried to find words, but nothing would come. “So, if you want to stay, then you can stay. At the very least, you should hold out for a hell of a lot more money; this bar is going to be worth a lot as a tourist attraction.”

  He took a deep breath. “And, there’s something else I learned while I was here. You made me realize that some people do belong in some places, even if they don’t know it yet. You, Catherine Milsom, are one of those people. You belong here, in this place, with these
people, and that’s why I did everything I could to make sure you could stay.”

  He bowed his head. “Cat, I am more sorry than I could ever explain that I wasn’t honest with you. The worst part, the worst Goddamned part of all is that the only stupid reason I did it was because I wasn’t ready to lose you.”

  Before I could say anything, he put the letter back on the counter, and turned away. “Goodbye, Cat. Even if I can’t have you, I’m so glad—more than I could ever say—that we met. I’ll not forget that, not ever.” Eyes still down, he walked through the small crowd, over to the door.

  My lips were numb, and I could hear my heart pounding so loud in my ears that I was amazed people weren’t looking at me. They were looking at me, in fact, but only half of them; the other half were looking at Ryan.

  Finally, inexplicably, after what seemed like years, I found my voice. “Ryan?”

  He turned back. “Yes?”

  “This work with the excavation. How will it be done?”

  “Well,” he began carefully, “there will be an archaeologist appointed to supervise it. They’ll be working closely with the bar owner, and they’ll need to stay here in Cable Bay. It’ll be a long process. Maybe years, in fact.”

  I looked at him. “Years?”

  “That’s right. I’m sure there will be a lot of qualified candidates.” He turned and put his hand on the door. In a few moments, he was going to walk out of my life forever, this foolish, self-possessed, wonderful man.

  I glanced at my friends and the assembled crowd. Farrah’s eyes were approximately the size of dinner plates. Bea’s expression was unreadable, although there was the slightest quirk in the corner of her mouth.

  “Ryan, wait.” There was a pause, and I walked across the room to stand directly in front of him. He turned back to face me, waiting. “This job. Have you thought about taking it?”