A Week in Winter(27)

Nothing they said made any difference. Eventually they had to agree to let her go.

Orla had told Chicky it would only be for a year, just to get the place up and running.

‘Maybe it’s hardly worth your while teaching me to cook like a dream.’

‘It’s always worthwhile teaching people to cook.’

‘You might run a cookery school for real people,’ Orla suggested.

‘The main thing we have to offer here is the scenery. They could learn to cook anywhere,’ Chicky said. ‘Anyway, we should keep the magic to ourselves.’

‘How will I manage not to take an axe to my mother when I get back?’ Orla wondered.

‘Don’t live at home,’ Chicky advised.

‘Can I live with you?’

‘No. That would cause bad feeling. We’ll find you somewhere to live. Rigger will do it up. Your own little place. Leave it to me. When will you be arriving?’

‘Any time now. They don’t need me to work my notice out. They’re only going to hire someone part-time to replace me, anyway. Am I stone mad to be doing this, Chicky?’

‘As you said, it’s only a year. You won’t notice it slipping by.’

By the time she arrived, Rigger was busy doing up an old cottage beside the walled garden for himself and Carmel Hickey. He said that there was an old gardener’s cottage and the roof was sound, so it hadn’t ever got damp. It hadn’t taken much more than a good clean-out to make it habitable.

Orla’s new home was ready for her.

‘I hope you’re not going to have the morals of Miss Daly and be the talk of the town,’ Orla’s mother said on her first night home.

‘Oh, Mam, I do hope not,’ Orla agreed fervently. She could see Chicky hiding a smile.

‘Your father and I don’t know what you have to go and get yourself an old, damp cottage like that for anyway. You’ve a perfectly good home here. People will think it’s very strange.’

‘You know, Mam, they won’t. They won’t even notice,’ Orla spoke automatically.

How very wise Miss Daly and Chicky had been about being independent. Now she hoped her instinct about coming back had been right and not a foolish notion.

There was little time to wonder about it. They were plunged into work straight away. Orla began to look back on the busy days in the office with James and Simon as if it had been one long holiday. She had not believed it possible that there would be so much to organise.

Chicky’s financial system left a lot to be desired. It was honest and thorough and the books were kept . . . in a fashion. But it was not computerised. Chicky had never used accounting software and instead worked on a system of ledgers and cardboard files. It was like something from fifty years ago. So the first thing Orla did was to choose a room as an office. Somewhere she and Chicky could store the computer, printer and all the reference books, drawings and filing cabinets they needed.

Chicky suggested one of the several large pantries that opened off the kitchen. Orla managed to get Rigger to leave aside a few hours from doing up his own house to impress Carmel Hickey’s family in order to get the office shelved and painted.

‘It’ll be worth it in the end,’ she insisted. ‘Then we will be out of everyone’s hair instead of spreading everything over the kitchen table and gathering it all up again.’ She found them a computer and set up the programs she needed. Then she insisted Chicky come in and learn it from the start.

‘No, no, that’s your department,’ Chicky protested.

‘Excuse me. I spent two hours last night learning how to make choux pastry. I didn’t say it was your department. Today you’re going to learn to deal with the bookkeeping software. It should take forty-five minutes if you concentrate.’

Chicky concentrated.

‘That wasn’t too bad,’ Orla approved. ‘So tomorrow we’ll set up a bookings system, and then the next day you’ll learn how to buy and sell.’

‘Are you sure that we need me to . . .’ Chicky was fearful at spending too much time in the office instead of out dealing with the daily problems.

‘Totally sure. Suppose you wanted to buy a piece of kitchen equipment? This will save you all the time making phone calls and going shopping.’

‘I suppose,’ Chicky agreed, doubtfully.

But she did agree that it was great to have everything at their fingertips, and when Orla would give her a little test like asking her how would she find someone who had made a reservation for next month and wanted to extend by another week, Chicky was soon able to summon up the bookings system on the screen. And at the same time, Orla learned how to make sauces that complemented meat dishes and ways of cleaning, filleting and serving fish straight from the sea in a way that an experienced fishmonger would envy.

One by one they beat down the obstacles.

There was the pathetic attempt of the O’Hara uncles to oppose planning permission. Chicky managed to sort it without falling out with anyone, a miracle in itself. They coped with the environmentalists’ lobby, who worried lest the new hotel would disturb the habitat of birds and other wildlife. Tea and scones were served to the concerned enquirers before they were taken on walks to show how nature was being protected in every way.

They all left satisfied.

The builders were encouraged in their efforts by the thought of a home-cooked meal every day; Chicky put it on the kitchen table at one o’clock and had everyone back to work at one-thirty. Most of the men, used to bringing their own sandwiches, regarded this big lunch as the high spot of the day. They went home and told their wives that the Irish stew or bacon and cabbage was very different over at Mrs Starr’s place than it was at home, and it caused a lot of resentment.