Fliss gave him a disparaging sneer. ‘What sort of restaurant do you work in? A burger bar?’
Adrienne chose to ignore them both and turned to everyone with her sunshine smile. ‘Now I’m going to get on my hobby horse.’ She crossed over to the nearest bed and plucked a couple of pea pods from the plants trailing up cones of intertwined canes. She handed them around.
‘Open them up. Taste.’
Everyone did as they were told – they wouldn’t have dared otherwise. Adrienne had a certain commanding presence about her that made you want to please her. Hannah popped open the bright-green shiny pod. Immediately, the fragrant grassy scent burst out and when she popped one tiny pea into her mouth to taste its sweet, clean flavour, an involuntary ‘mmm’ escaped.
‘Good?’ Adrienne asked her.
‘Yes,’ she replied, surprised by just how good it tasted. ‘I’ve never eaten a raw pea before. Absolutely delicious. They’re my favourite vegetable anyway.’
‘There’s none better, I promise you. You can’t beat fresh just-picked produce.’
She turned to everyone else, the group having arranged itself into a natural semi-circle around her, and then bent and dug a hand in the soil, letting the grains trickle through her fingers.
‘This is where the magic happens.’
Obediently, Hannah, like everyone else, stared down at the dark soil.
‘Everything we eat comes from the soil; the plants we grow to feed our animals, that we harvest to eat, all of it is dependent on looking after our soil. The quality of the soil determines the quality of our food. Looking after the soil, the animals, the plants in the most sustainable, environmentally friendly way is important for the planet.
‘I believe that we have a part to play, encouraging biodiversity, organic farming, and sustainability. People have become too used to cheap food that is not being grown or produced to proper standards. Here at Killorgally we use seasonal and locally grown produce wherever we can, and when we can’t we aim to buy from sustainable and ethical sources. For example, all our spices come from a family supplier in India; in fact, the owner came here on a cookery course ten years ago and was inspired to set up his spice company.
‘Everything we grow is organic and aimed at increasing biodiversity. For example,’ she turned to Meredith with a smile, ‘you know we grow basil. There are approximately 150 varieties of basil. We have fifty-five. Still a way to go, but we’re trying to do our bit for biodiversity. Among our pigs, sheep, cattle, and hens, we keep a number of rare breeds.’
She grinned at them. ‘You’ll find I bang on about it quite a lot. It’s been said by some of my beloved family that I’m a bit of bore, but once you work with these ingredients, I tell you, you’ll never look back. Now, come meet Daisy and Co.’
The next hour was spent touring the farm, meeting the docile-looking Kerry cows, big and black with large brown liquid eyes, noisy, friendly goats who pushed each other out of the way nosing for food, and plump bustling hens, which Adrienne pointed out. ‘Rhode Island Reds, Silver Grey Dorkings, and Partridge Chanteclers.’
Hannah decided the latter with their russet-patterned feathers were her favourites as they scurried about pecking at the ground. The whole place looked immaculate – even the wooden hen houses were beautiful, painted in duck-egg blue with little ramps leading up to each one. It was just as wonderful as she’d hoped it would be.
From there they walked across a paddock through to a large quadrangle.
‘On your left are the kitchens and that’s where we’ll assemble at nine o’clock tomorrow. This evening we’ll have dinner at the hotel in a private dining room. Breakfast is in the farm kitchen, where you had tea and cake. And now we’ll go back there to the office to get keys and such.’
As she led them back to where they’d started, Hannah realised that they’d done a huge loop of the farm.
‘Your luggage has all been delivered to your rooms. Now, Fliss, you’re in the hotel. Alan and Jason, you’re sharing the flat in Larkspur Cottage, just across the way.’ She pointed out of the window towards a pair of pastel-painted terraced cottages, one blue and one pink. ‘Meredith and Isabel, you’re next door in Rose Cottage in the second-floor flat. And, Hannah, you’re in Marigold Cottage and you’ll be sharing, although they haven’t turned up yet. My son will show you down there if you don’t mind waiting here while I take the others.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ said Hannah with a touch of excitement.
No sooner had the others departed than the door behind her opened. She turned around to find a pair of blue eyes studying her. For the briefest of moments they looked familiar but then the memory danced out of reach.
‘Hi.’
‘Hello there. You for Marigold Cottage?’
‘That’s right. I’m Hannah.’
‘Fergus. I’m the youngest one so I’m the put-upon one. I get all the crappy jobs.’ He slapped a hand over his mouth. ‘Not that you’re a crappy job, of course.’ His white freckled skin flushed bright red. ‘Sorry, I’m an eejit.’
Hannah laughed. He was probably only about eighteen or so. ‘It’s fine. I know about being the youngest. You always have to go to bed earlier than everyone else.’
‘And that’s just the start. Honest to God, they all think they’re the boss of me. I never have a minute’s peace. Fergus do this, Fergus do that. I tell you, my life’s a trial.’ He said it with a comically mournful long-suffering sigh that made Hannah laugh again.
‘You poor wee soul.’
‘You see, you understand. I am a poor wee soul.’
