‘I don’t mind at all. I was planning to do some work, so I can work right here. You can have the lounge all to yourself.’
‘Great,’ she said, giving him a perfunctory smile. She couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or slightly put out that he didn’t want her company.Come on, Hannah. How many times does he have to make it obvious that he’s under sufferance and doesn’t want your company?
‘Sorry. It must be a pain for you to have to be here.’ Despite that, she wasn’t about to offer to read up in her bedroom. She’d paid extra to have a cottage.
‘It’s fine.’ His mouth twisted with wry cynicism. ‘Guests come first. Talking of which, I’m cooking for myself and it would be a shame to waste these vegetables. How do you fancy a sweet potato and haddock stew?’
She had no idea what that would be like; in fact, she’d never bought a sweet potato in her life but when someone was offering to cook for her – a famous chef at that – she wasn’t about to turn it down.
‘Done,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘You can peel and chop for your supper. Get some practice in, although without the violence this time.’
She grinned. ‘I promise I’ll behave with the vegetables.’
‘Good to hear it.’
Watching Conor cook was a real pleasure. He had an economy of movement and a calm, steady approach, always one step ahead of himself. He also explained each step and why he was doing things, which she found fascinating. He was a good teacher.
‘Why don’t you teach here?’ she asked on impulse.
‘There are too many cooks in this family. I want something of my own and the rest of them are absolutely bloody useless at anything DIY or practical. The only one who has any non-culinary skills is Fergus, who’s handy with a computer. He built the school’s website and does all the social media posting, although Mam and Mairead write all the copy and take all the pictures. Make it look idyllic.’
‘Itisidyllic,’ said Hannah, remembering what he’d said on the beach. ‘You came back.’
‘Yes, but beware snakes in the garden of Eden.’
‘That’s very cryptic.’
‘And that’s all you’re getting.’ He shot her a thoughtful look. ‘There’s something about you that always makes me say more than I should.’
‘Like what?’ asked Hannah, slightly pleased at this accomplishment.
‘You don’t back off, do you?’
‘I like to get answers. Always have done.’
‘Yes, I think that’s what it is. You sit there waiting with that patient expression on your face without overtly pushing. It’s almost as if you expect an answer so you get one.’
Hannah laughed. ‘Well that’s all new.’
‘I’m used to people asking questions for the sake of them, prying, wanting to know more about the surface stuff.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Every sodding interview I ever did, they always wanted to know about my flaming love life. I only had to be pictured with someone and there’d be a whole load of speculation. And there were lots of pictures and the more well known I became…’ He shrugged. ‘Poor little rich boy, eh? Complaining about the accoutrements of wealth and celebrity. That’s why I gave it up.’
Hannah frowned, not following. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen, to use a well-worn but extremely apt cliché.’
‘Was it really that bad?’
‘No, it wasn’t. I had a ball. I enjoyed the attention. Enjoyed being able to do what I wanted.’ He grinned. ‘Back in the day, I became an arrogant shite for a wee while. Mam soon knocked that on the head. So then I settled down. Found a nice girl. A really nice girl. Polly Daventree. You might have heard of her.’
Hannah nodded, remembering her conversation with Izzy.
‘She’s now my ex. Ex-fiancée no less. But now she’s the new rising star, Adrienne Byrne’s natural replacement.’
There was a bitter tone to his words and she gave him a perplexed look.
‘I’m sure there’s a subtext to all this, Conor, but you’ll have to humour me. I’m completely oblivious.’
