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

Cathy told herself that there were only six hours or so of this year left, only six hours or so of being nice to Hannah. What was the very worst that could happen? The very worst was that the food was awful and no one would eat it, but that could not happen, because the food was terrific. The second worst thing was that there wasn't enough of it, but there was enough in this van to feed half of Dublin.

"There are no problems," Cathy said aloud as she looked down the tree-lined drive to the house where Neil had been born. A gentleman's residence, a hundred and fifty years old, square and satisfying somehow, with its four bedrooms above the large door and the bay windows on either side of it. Ivy and Virginia creeper covered the walls and in front lay a huge graveled circle where tonight twenty expensive cars would be parked. A house as different from St. Jarlath's Crescent as you could imagine.

Most of the office staff in Hayward's, Dublin's big department store, had gone. Not many worked late or indeed a full afternoon on New Year's Eve. They were mainly getting ready for whatever the night would bring.

But Shona Burke, who worked in the personnel department, had not joined the general rush toward home. Shona, often called a spokesperson for the store, or an information officer, was a very private person. They liked her and trusted her utterly, but since she never volunteered the smallest piece of information about herself, people had stopped asking.

They knew she lived alone in a very elegant apartment block. She had an attractive face, good posture and dressed well, but she was deliberately low-key. You would know her clothes were good, well cut and perfectly kept, but you would never remember exactly what she had been wearing.

Nobody minded that she didn't talk about herself. It wasn't a secretive thing, it was just the way she was. And anyway her job in Human Resources meant she should listen to others learn about the store, its ups and downs, and work out ways to solve the many problems that came onto her desk every day.

Shona often stayed late in her office up on the management floors of Hayward's-she had her own key code to get in and out. She had listened to the program on the radio and was wondering if she really and truly had a choice about how she would spend New Year's Eve. Long ago in a happier life there would have been a celebration, but not in the last few years. She had no idea what her sisters and brothers would do, and if they would go to the hospital. Shona would make the hospital visit out of duty, of course, but it was pointless, she wouldn't be recognized or acknowledged.

Then she would go to Ricky's party in his studio. Everyone liked Ricky. A pleasant, easygoing photographer, he would gather a lot of people and make a buzz for them all. There would be a fair crowd of poseurs and empty-headed types dying to see themselves in the gossip columns ... She was unlikely to meet the love of her life or even a temporary soul mate, but still Shona would dress up and go there simply because she did not see herself as the kind of person who would sit alone in her apartment in Glenstar.

The question nagged her, what would she really like to be doing tonight? It was so hard to answer because everything had changed so much. The good days were over, and it was impossible to imagine doing something that would make her really happy. So in the absence of that, Ricky's would do fine.

Marcella was painting her toenails. She had new evening sandals which she'd bought at a thrift shop. She showed them proudly to Tom. They had been barely worn; someone must have bought them and found they didn't suit. "They must have cost a fortune new," she said happily, examining them carefully.

"Are you happy?" Tom asked.

"Very," she said. "And you?"

"Oh, very, very," he laughed. Was that strictly true? He didn't want to go to this party at all. But just looking at her did make him happy. He couldn't really believe that such a beautiful girl, who could have had anyone she wanted, really found him enough for her. Tom had no idea that he was attractive, he thought he was big and clumsy. He honestly believed that all the admiring glances they got as a couple were directed at Marcella alone ...

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.