‘Welcome to Killorgally.’
The woman’s effusive greeting reached Hannah before she’d even managed to pull her case over the threshold of the small stone-built office. She rose from behind an untidy desk, skirting it to hold out a hand.
‘Hi, I’m Hannah Campbell. Here for the residential course.’
‘Hello, Hannah. How lovely to have you here with us.’ Her mellifluous words were filled with the sort of instant glowing warmth that suggested Hannah’s arrival was the highlight of her day. ‘I’m Adrienne Byrne.’
Hannah’s eyes widened, suddenly a little starstruck at the sight of the glamourous woman in front of her. ‘Hello. Gosh. Lovely to meet you too.’ She hadn’t expected the head honcho to greet her.
Adrienne smiled, her green eyes crinkling as if she was used to the effect she had. With her thick auburn hair curled around her face she looked more like a model than a cook. She wore a long flowing burnt-orange linen dress that was saved from shapelessness by the brightly coloured apron covered in llamas that cinched it in at the waist. On her feet she wore jewelled flip-flops that flashed and glinted as she crossed the room to give Hannah a long and rather careful assessment, at the end of which she gave her a nod as if to say, ‘You’ll do’.
‘Was your journey a good one? You found us all right?’
‘Yes. It’s beautiful around here.’
‘That it is. We’re blessed.’
She pointed to a framed photo on the wall behind her. ‘It’s taken a lot of love and care, but it’s all ours.’
The photo showed a dilapidated, rundown collection of buildings around a small courtyard which Hannah recognised as the one she’d just crossed. Next to it was a large map with a boundary line picked out in yellow which she guessed was a map of the farm and its land.
‘Now, I’d love you to come meet your fellow cooks. They’re just treating themselves to a spot of tea and cake. We’re waiting on a couple more arrivals and then I’ll give you the guided tour of the farm and the gardens. If you leave your case here, I’ll have someone take it to your cottage. You’ll be sharing with one other person on the course.’
Hannah nodded. When she’d snagged the last place on the course, the choice of accommodation had been limited. A room in a two-bedroom cottage or a small single room sharing a bathroom in the hotel. Not that she minded – the description of the cottage, with two bedrooms, a lounge, and kitchen sounded delightful.
She followed Adrienne through a wooden-framed door at the back of the office into a big airy kitchen with Velux windows in the sloping roof, through which streamed bright sunlight. The centre of the room was dominated by long, solid farmhouse table around which several people were already seated.
‘Everyone, this is Hannah. I’ll leave you all to introduce yourselves. Hannah, help yourself to tea and there’s barmbrack. Or tea cake, you would say.’ With a wave she glided out of the room like a serene swan as if she had all the time in the world.
‘Hi, Hannah, take a seat,’ said a woman in front of her, pulling out one of the spindle-backed wooden chairs. ‘I’m Meredith.’ She grinned suddenly. ‘Merry to my friends. Would you like a cup of tea? Have you come far? And you must try some of the cake; it is to die for.’
Hannah sat down in the seat with a plop, realising that the journey had tired her. ‘I’d love a cup of tea. Thank you.’
Meredith picked up the pretty china teapot and poured the tea into a matching cup and saucer. Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d drunk from anything but a mug. The delicate porcelain made it all seem rather genteel and more of an occasion.
‘Here.’ Meredith pushed a fat slab of cake towards her. ‘I hope they’re going to teach us how to cook this cake. It’s blimmin’ delicious.’
‘Cake?’ the young man across the table echoed with a distinct sense of horror on his face. ‘If I’ve got to be here, I wanna learn to cook proper. Cakes is for mums and housewives.’
Meredith’s friendly smile disappeared. ‘And what’s wrong with being a mum or a housewife, young man? Who brought you up? A robot? A dog?’
‘Me mum. Sorry,’ he said hastily, with a sudden cheeky smile. He lifted the handle of his cup of tea between finger and thumb and toasted her in quick apology. He glanced at Hannah. ‘I’m Jason.’
‘Hi.’
‘And I’m Alan,’ said the middle-aged man next to him. He seemed to be the only Irish person among them. Meredith had a distinct Scouse accent and Jason sounded like he was from the East End of London.
‘Fliss,’ added the girl across from her in a bored, posh voice, barely looking up from her phone.
‘Hi, everyone.’
‘Have you come far?’ asked Meredith again.
‘Manchester, but I flew to Dublin yesterday and drove up today.’
‘I flew to Kerry. It’s the sweetest little airport you’ve ever seen. Adrienne’s son-in-law picked me up. He’s the bread expert. I’ve seen him on the television sometimes with James Martin and Jamie Oliver. But he was lovely, not at all stuck up. And there I go again, running my mouth off. My daughters are always telling me I talk too much. It’s nerves, that’s all. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.’
Hannah realised that she could see lines of strain around the other woman’s eyes.
