Performer
That cat is the devil incarnate, Lucy! We need to get rid of him! Margaret Winthrop grimaced, watching the one-eared, ginger tom twine around her sisters ankles.
How can you say such a thing, Maggie? Hes a living creature! Lucys voice trembled.
A creature, indeed! Thats the perfect word for him! Dont you think, Lucy, that you let him get away with far too much? Margarets eyes narrowed.
As if to prove Margarets point, the cat arched his back and, hissing, advanced sidewise like a crab toward the intruder, with a careful, silent menace.
See! Margaret jabbed her finger at the cat in triumph and couldnt help but take a step back. What did I say?
Lucy gasped, and called out to her would-be protector: Performer, darling, theres no need! Everythings all right!
The cat turned, glanced at his owner, and abruptly settled down. He returned to Lucys side, nudging her bad leg comfortingly, and sat close, as if to show hed stay on guard.
A menace! Margaret sniffed, skirting widely around the cat. And you coddle him!
Someone has to, dont they? Lucy sighed.
Performer had come into Lucys life three years earlier, at a time overshadowed by grief and loneliness. No sooner had she bid her husband goodbye than her only son had passed, leaving Lucy entirely alone except for her sister and a handful of acquaintances. There had never been friends for her.
Just Margaret. The elder sister.
The sisters were close in age, but their parents made sure to highlight the difference: Our Maggie is the eldest! So responsible! You can trust her with anything, and it will be done right and on time. And Lucy Lucys our angel, shes the comfort of our hearts. A little daydreamer. But hopelessly scatterbrained!
They grew up believing that Margaret was clever, beautiful and the centre of all attention, while Lucy, though adored, was the familys little muddle.
What do you get praised for, honestly? Margaret would grumble when Lucy brought home a glowing school report. Doing what you should is normal! Thats nothing to cheer about!
Im not smart like you, Maggie! You always get top marks. I just muddle through.
Exactly! Yet they praise you! Margaret sulked, and Lucy would hide her smile, careful not to annoy her sister further.
Margaret soared through school and entered university, barely coming home thereafter.
Hows it going, Maggie? Lucy would seize her chances to learn about her sisters life.
Its going! Just wish there were more hours in the day.
Not enough time for studies? Lucys worry was sincere.
Studies?! Hardly. No time for a personal life! Hows one meant to meet a decent chap, dashing about all hours preparing for a career?
Oh, Maggie! That hadnt crossed my mind
Of course not! When do you ever think, little one? Margaret would laugh, never noticing that her words hurt. Thats grown ups business, not for children like you.
Lucy would steer away, nurse her wounds quietly, and be genuinely pleased when things went right for Margaret. Stars must shine, and that was that. Lucy only had the glow to watch.
Margaret finished university without ever settling down. Boys kept their distance from her sharp tongue and stronger will. Even their mothers pleas to soften, just a little, made no difference.
Mum, you want me to sit in a corner like some Victorian miss and practice the art of demureness? Nonsense! Leave that for Lucy. Its not who I am!
Love, we dont want you to change completely, just show a bit more softness. Boys like that.
Mother, how would you know what modern lads like? Things are different now!
Hmm, perhaps youre right you know best, Maggie
But thunder struck when Lucywhod long been told that higher education was wasted on her and shed be better off learning a tradebrought a fiancé home.
Meet Sam, she introduced shyly.
Samuel charmed her parents from the moment he entered. Good-looking, sharp, and talented, hed started a promising career in television journalism. Though not yet well-known, his future looked bright.
Most importantly, he was head-over-heels for Lucy. For plain, supposedly unremarkable Lucy, who went to the local college.
Lucy had always loved sewing and fashioning clothes, so she made it her trade.
Lucy, really, a seamstress? Margaret was thoroughly unimpressed.
Im not as brilliant as you, Maggie. But making a beautiful skirt or blouse isnt just for anyone. I want people to look wonderful and feel joy in what they wear.
What a muddle your mind is! But I have to admit, the dress you made me is perfect.
Whos it meant to be perfect for?
You! Me! Everybody! People will see you and think: Goodness, how lovely she looks! Isnt that something?
Suppose so. Some people reach for the stars, and others Margaret would groan, but she enjoyed wearing Lucys creations every bit as much as anyone.
Lucy didnt copy ready-made patterns. She invented fresh designs, laboring late, embroidering vivid flowers onto her sisters hems, and beaming when Margaret spun before the mirror in delight.
Lucys outfits were noticed so often that people would ask Margaret where she shopped. She always kept mum.
Its a secret!
I see, imported, is it? Relatives in high places?
Not saying! Top secret, and not mine to share! Margaret would smile mysteriously, privately swollen with pride for her sisters talent.
Still, Sams arrival in Lucys life wounded Margaret deeply.
How? How had a girl with neither degree nor particular beauty found herself a fiancé first? Unimaginable!
At the wedding, Margaret sat poker-faced. Friends and family couldnt tell what was wrong. Lucy, radiant in her self-made dress, was at last noticed and admired.
A beauty, and such a fine lad! What a pair! May they be happy!
For the first time in her life, Margaret knew jealousy. Sharp, insistent, it gnawed at her heart and made its home there.
Your sisters the one with the handsome bloke? Excellent. Youve got not a soul!
Parents are whispering, eager for grandkids? Thatll never happen for you!
Lucys shining, your radiance seemed to transfer to her, and now shes the star, not you. As it should be. She gets all; you get nothing.
Margaret slipped out before the end, rushing back home to sob into her pillow, cursing her unlucky life.
But as soon as their mother appeared, Margaret donned a brave face.
Are you all right, darling?
Perfectly fine! Dont worry yourself.
Margaret married six months lateralmost to the first man she met. Her husband was notably older, a little bald, stout, and undeniably clever. Hed guessed immediately what Margaret wanted from their union.
Im ready to give you what you want. But this will be an agreement.
Terms?
You give me a child, maybe two. Build your careerI’ll make sure you have the support you need: nanny, cleaner, whatever. I wont have another woman, and youll never need fear for your health. In return: loyalty, a warm house, good cooking, peace. No arguments, so I can stay focused. All right?
Margaret hardly hesitated. Agreed!
Strangely, this arranged marriage proved solid. There was none of the tenderness found in Lucys home, where love was so strong that even visitors felt it. In Margarets, there was securitya quiet certainty for tomorrow.
She gave him a son, then a daughter, as promised. They grew up in the care of a nanny, their schedules planned to the minute to ensure their education and manners. Margaret barely had time to mother them; there was her PhD, work, and social events at which she dazzled, still keeping the origin of her dresses a mystery.
Lucy was in no rush. Through Britains difficult years, she worked from home, taking orders almost by secret handover.
Shes a dressmaker sent from heaven! But she rarely takes new clientsher regulars keep her busy.
That good?
Absolutely! Youve seen my pink dress? That was hers!
No! Id have sworn it was designer!
Famous designers started small too! Maybe Lucy will rise, if only shes brave enough. Just wait and see!
Lucys clientele included MPs wives and TV personalities. She clothed half the BBC and even some of the opera crowd. She never repeated a design, knowing the scandal that could erupt if two socialites showed up in the same outfit.
When things finally calmed down, Lucy set up a small studio, which soon turned into something like a fashionable salon. There, people came to forge connections, share gossip, or slip in discreetly for fittings. The modest ground-floor space in a Victorian mews, found by Margaret, was fitted out for comfort and charm.
Margaret, meanwhile, bought the machines and let her sister borrow whatever money she required.
Well sort it out later!
It mattered to Margaret that Lucy had solid ground beneath her. Watching Lucys life unfold, Margaret reproached herself for the envy shed once felt. She thought shed helped dim the light that had illuminated Lucy for so long. Looking at her hearty, thriving children, Margaret sometimes wanted to howl as she had as a girlfor Lucys only son, her cherished boy, was born ill.
Sunshine, they called him. Margaret had heard the phrase and, with a twist, named her nephew Sunny.
Youre my darling! Ive brought you treats, my little Sunshine! Margaret would greet her nephew.
He returned her affection with such trusting smiles that she sometimes wished she could turn the whole world upside down to give him joy.
Maggie, you love my Charlie more than your own! Lucy laughed, watching her sonwho trusted hardly anyone but his auntcling to her.
It was only partly true, but Lucy wanted to believe her boy was all right.
Margaret, knowing her sisters struggle, took over finding a nanny and helping set up the studio.
Get back to work, Lucy! You need it. Sams always off somewhere, and you barely see him. Why sit at home moping?
I cant, Maggie! I have Charlie to care for!
Theres plenty of room at the studioset up a kids corner. Hire staff. Ill sort the nanny. You manage, and Charlie will be right there!
Maggie, what would I do without you?
Thats what sisters are for! Oh, youll make me cry! I spent an hour on my makeupI have a meeting!
And so life went on.
Margaret kept an eye on Lucy and her nephew, seeking out specialists for Charlie, whose heart and organs kept failing him.
I dont understand Lucy would sob when alone with her sister. What did I do wrong for my boy to suffer so?
Nothing, love! This is fate, if you must call it something. A rotten deal, but well face it. Charlie wont ever be welllets be honest. But we can make him calm and happy. Isnt that enough? Family, warmth, care, and lovewe can give him that, Lucy.
I suppose yes
Good, so lets get to it! Ive found another top specialist. Queues long, but never mind! Ill get Charlie in.
Maggie
Hush! Now put the kettle on and make me a sandwich. Ive not had a bite since sunrise!
Margarets husband accepted her devotion to Lucys family.
Its a shame theres nothing more we can do for the lad. If you need anything, you need only ask.
Those few words meant the world to Margaret. She knew now that she loved her husband, not with the wild passion of youth, but with a deeper certainty that came with time and trust.
Years passed, children grew, and the parents aged. The sisters lived in peace at last, no longer divided by jealousy or old misunderstandings.
Who else can share your woes but your sister?
Lucy helped Margaret in return, too. When Margarets husband had trouble at work, Lucy asked Sam to dig into the matter. The investigation nearly cost Sam his life, as Lucy later learned, but truth won out, and Margaret gave thanks in her own, weighty way:
You and Sam dont know what youve done for me. I promiseyou and your family will never want for anything while Im around.
Margaret kept her word.
She stood by Lucy when Sam was ill. He faded slowly, dying before his wifes eyes. Lucy tried to be strong, but broke down, sobbing on her sisters shoulder:
Why?! How can it be fair? Hes so young still!
Margaret, side by side with her, helped Lucy through as best she could, reminding her, gently but firmly, that she had Charlie to care for.
Then together, they wept as Charlies heart finally gave out. Holding each other tight, they listened to the doctors explanations, eyes dry but hearts broken. After leaving the hospital, they trudged the length of the city side-by-side, silent and hand in hand.
The yellow t-shirt, and his red trainers
Yes
They didnt need to say more. They were giving Charlie the goodbye hed have liked.
After her sons death, Lucy broke down completely. She went through the motions at work, leaving everything to her employees. More than once, Margaret, stopping by, found Lucy slumped over her sketchpad, unable to draw so much as a line.
Lucy
I just need a rest, Maggie, just a moment Lucy would lift her blank, empty gaze.
You cant go on like this! Margaret all but sobbed.
There are no rules for me now, Maggie Not anymore
The turning point came the day the cat appeared.
No one knew where hed come fromtattered, dirty, with a torn ear, a battered tom. That busy street rarely had cats.
Hed tried to come in but was shooed away.
Go on! Clear off!
So the cat did the only thing left: he flopped onto the top step, legs and head dangling, playing dead. Thats how Lucy found him, arriving later than usual that day.
Whats this? Lucy stared at the feline performer.
Its a cat, Miss Winthrop! Came in and plonked himself downwont budge!
Is it even alive? Lucy nudged him with her shoe.
The cat cracked an eye, heaved a sigh worthy of a man, and lolled out his tongue, as if to bemoan his fate:
What are you doing, unkind people? Im fading here! Honestly! Any minute now and Ill be gone. Not a soul will remember meIve no name, and Ive been starving for a week, at least! And all because no one has a heart!
Lucy, watching, smiled for the first time in months.
Such an actor! Girls, look at him! Even Laurence Olivier would be jealous! All right, you. Come on, youll get a meal and a cuddle.
Scooping the tom into her arms, Lucy inspected him and shook her head.
No, first stop is the vet! That ear needs sorting.
The cat made no protest, sitting quietly on the passenger seat as Lucy drove. He submitted to the vets poking with only a single indignant yowl for a painful jab. Having graciously accepted a reward of pâté from Lucy, he strode home behind herthe house he chose as his own.
Well, Ive never had a cat before. How are we going to work this, Performer?
The cat posed like a sphinx, serenely staring at the cars outside. Lucy smiled again.
Right! Well manage. Lets see if Maggie approves of you.
Margaret didnt approvenot outwardly. She chased the cat, secretly glad to see proof of life sparking in her sisters eyes once more. Lucy had a reason to care again, someone to fuss over.
Lucy, he watches you so strangely!
Let him, Maggie! No ones looked at me that way in years.
In what way?
With love.
Hes a con artist! Hes having you on!
So what? He keeps my bad feet warm in the evenings and watches TV with me. Really, Maggiehe stares at the screen like hes following the plot!
Serves you right! Shouldve named him Ginger or Socks. Performers a silly name for a cat!
It suits him! Lucy would laugh, and Margarets heart would soften.
Her sister was smiling again, and for that, she could forgive the cat anything.
But Margaret truly accepted Performer the day she nearly lost Lucy.
It was a Saturday. The sisters hadnt arranged to meet, but Margaret, being nearby, decided to drop in. After Performers arrival, Lucy had thrown herself back into work, her new collection as in demand as ever.
The lights were on at the studio, and Margaret let herself in.
Lucy? Lucy, love? Im here!
A flash of ginger darted to her feet, and she shrieked as the cat bit her ankle, tearing her tights.
Performer! Have you lost your mind?!
The cats eyes burned oddly; Margaret instinctively stepped back.
Hes rabid, or what?
She grabbed a metre stick, ready to defend herself, but Performer gave a plaintive mew and dashed between her and the back roomCharlies old playroom, which Lucy hadnt the heart to turn into another fitting suite.
Whats in there? Margaret whispered, as if the cat could answer. Wheres Lucy?
She rushed to the door, forgetting everything else, and gasped to find her sister collapsed on the floor, clutching a photograph of her son.
Lucy!
An ambulance, a hospital, nearly a day in intensive care
Margaret paced the corridors, praying as best she could, with no words for what she needed:
Dont take her. Leave her to mejust let her live.
Only later did she hear that Performer also howled and scratched at his locked room, raising a desperate yowling the staff had only ever heard when he called Lucy. He only quietened once Lucy regained consciousness, curling up in a corner and refusing food except for water.
Lucy was discharged three weeks later.
Maggie, studio first!
Why, Lucy? Ill bring the little monster to you!
No! I want to see him.
Lucy struggled up the steps, and the studio girls burst out laughing as the ginger whirlwind raced to her, wrapped her ankles with his paws, and purred so loudly even Margaret was overcome:
Oh, Performer!
Lucy scooped him up, rubbing his now-healed ear, and admitted, He called me, Maggie. I heard him at first, just his voice, then yours. I dont know how to explain, but I heard the cat before the doctors, even in the hospital
How strange Margaret didnt know what to say.
Performer seemed to, though. He touched Lucys chin tenderly, glanced at Margaret, and curled up in her arms, finally at peace.
I think Ive just been approved by the family cat, Margaret managed a smile. Though for what, I couldnt say but hes accepted me.
Performer flashed a green glint, purred louder still, promising to chase away sorrows. Lucy smiled again, warming her sisters heart.
And really, what more does a person need? Family close by, and peace within.
So little. So much.
