Excerpt from Scarlet Feather by Maeve Binchy, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Tell them?" Hannah Mitchell was bewildered.

Cathy wondered was there a possibility that her mother-in-law was actually a half-wit.

"Like asking them would they like fish in a seafood sauce, or herbed chicken, or the vegetarian goulash," she said. Mrs. Mitchell tried but found it hard to find fault with this.

"Yes, well," she said eventually.

"So will I just get on with it now, do you think?" she asked.

"Cathy, my dear, may I ask who is stopping you?" Hannah said with her face hard and unforgiving at all this confidence in Poor Lizzie Scarlet's girl.

Neil looked at his watch. Every single person in this room had some kind of New Year's function to go to except the student that they had all gathered to protect. They would be finished soon, but nobody must be seen to hasten away. It would be terrible for the man whose future hung in the balance if he thought that the civil rights activists, the social workers and lawyers were more interested in their own night's fun and games than they were in his predicament. He was trying to reassure this young Nigerian that there would be justice and a welcome for him in Ireland. Neil would not let Jonathan spend the dawn of a new year on his own.

"When we're through here, you can come back to my parents' house," he said. He was already late, but it couldn't be helped.

The big sad eyes looked at him. "You don't have to, you know."

"I know I don't have to, and a barrel of laughs it won't be, but my wife is doing the catering so the food will be good. My parents' friends are ... well, how will I put it ... a bit dead."

"I'm okay, Neil, truly, you're doing so much for me and all this has delayed you from it already ..."

"We'll go through it once more," Neil said to the meeting, "then Jonathan and I will go and party." He saw them look at him in admiration. Neil Mitchell really went the distance. He felt a bit guilty at not being there to help Cathy as he had promised, but this was much more important-she'd understand. Cathy would be fine. His father and his cousin Walter would be there to help her by now ... Everything would be fine.

Hannah still hovered, which meant that Cathy had to talk, answer inane questions, pat down unnecessary worries and even bring up topics of conversation, lest she be considered moody.

"It's nearly seven-thirty, Walter will be here any minute," Cathy said desperately. She could have got things done far faster had she not been under the scrutiny of the most critical eyes in the Western hemisphere. Fingers could have been used more often than they were, things could have been flung into places rather than placed elegantly.

"Oh, Walter! Like all young people, I'm sure he'll be late." There was a sniff of disapproval and resignation.

"I don't think so, Mrs. Mitchell, not tonight. It's a professional engagement, he's being paid from seven-thirty until twelve-thirty. That's a five-hour booking. I'm certain he won't let us down."

Cathy wasn't at all sure of this; she had no evidence that Walter Mitchell was reliable. But at least it was going to be known what his terms of business were. And if he didn't turn up, then his own relations would have been made aware of his shortcomings. She heard someone outside.

"Ah, that must be Walter now," she said. "I knew he'd be on time."

It was in fact Jock Mitchell, who came into the kitchen rubbing his hands.

"This looks just great, Cathy. I say, Hannah, isn't this an amazing spread?"

"Yes," said his wife.

"Welcome home, Mr. Mitchell. I thought it was Walter. He's actually working for me tonight," Cathy said. "Did he leave the office at the same time as you, by any chance?"

"Ages earlier," her father-in-law said. "Boy keeps his own time. I'm getting a bit of flack from the partners over him, as it happens."

Reprinted from Scarlet Feather by Maeve Binchy by permission of Dutton, a member of Penguin Putnam Inc. Copyright © 2001 by Maeve Binchy. All rights reserved. This excerpt, or any parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission.