Page 2 of Changing Tides
The location of the Batiya restaurant on the main tourist street was good for its popularity, but not so helpful when you were trying to find a spot to unload shellfish.
“Yes!” The small loading bay at the back was clear of vehicles and they pulled the van into the convenient space. They had one more drop off to make after this, and now the promise of dinner with their best friends meant they needed to hurry. But they’d always make time for a chat with Marianne if she was around.
Joey stuck their head inside the loading bay door. “Hullo?” Not hearing a reply, they pulled a shining stainless-steel trolley from the corridor to the back of the van. After offloading four trays of lobster and Dublin Bay prawns, they pushed the trolley quickly back in and along the corridor toward the kitchen.
“Mari?” They got to the kitchen doors without a reply, so they pushed the trolley through, making the doors crash open against the wall. The co-owner, Amira, jumped up from a stool as they entered and slammed her laptop closed.
“Hi, Joey, sorry, I was engrossed in ordering. How are you?” The heavy bags under her eyes were more noticeable than ever. Joey wondered if the restaurant she ran with her wife had proven to be more of a challenge than expected. Marianne’s reputation as a chef had followed her from the capital, and Batiya had become a destination for Dublin foodies looking for out of town quality. They also had a small child to juggle their lives around. It must be a busy life.
“I’m good, thanks. I’ve got Marianne’s order. Is she around? I like her to check the quality before paying.” They mentioned the payment since the last couple of deliveries had been made with the promise of a bank transfer that had yet to happen.
“She’s out with Deniz.” Amira checked her watch and her eyes flicked back to her laptop. “Colette will be here soon if you want to wait?”
Joey had no intention of hanging around if Marianne wasn’t there. “Just tell her to call me if there’s a problem.”
When Amira turned back to her laptop, they knew they’d have to push for payment. “Is there any chance you could pay in cash? I need to fuel up the van.”
Amira laughed. “No chance, sorry. I’ll transfer it tomorrow.”
“I’ll check with Marianne that you’re using the correct details. She promised a bank transfer for the last two deliveries, but I haven’t received anything.” It wasn’t a comfortable conversation topic, but they couldn’t afford to give away lobsters for the sake of their own awkwardness.
Amira turned quickly, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t bother Marianne with money matters. She’s a creative, and she hates that side of the business. Leave it with me, and I’ll transfer what you’re owed tomorrow, for certain.”
She didn’t meet Joey’s eyes, but they decided it was best to believe her.
“Okay, thanks. Say hi to Mari for me, won’t you?”
“Of course.” She was back at her laptop before Joey had reached the door. There had been a time she would’ve invited them to stay for a meal, or at least offered a cup of tea, but in the last year she’d become less friendly. Joey hoped they didn’t have relationship problems. Marianne was a good person and a brilliant chef. She deserved to be happy.
Joey knew they were a little too comfortable in Marianne’s company. As well as being gorgeous, tall and athletic with a russet crop of hair, and fine, freckled features, Marianne’s drive and competence in the kitchen were magnetic. Joey had guiltily spent hours watching reruns of her old TV shows, convincing themself it was useful to understand her cooking style as a supplier. On Joey’s visits, if she wasn’t busy, Marianne often took time to sit and have a coffee and chat. She had become afriend as well as a good customer, so it was easy to justify their eagerness to see her. It was a harmless infatuation.
Their experiences with flirty tourists on the boat showed they had no clue how to behave when women actually showed an interest, so they would stay on the safe ground of being secretly lustful about a married woman who saw them as a useful supplier, nothing more.
Joey pulled out into traffic and headed for the next delivery.Perhaps if I had an actual romantic life, I wouldn’t have to invent imaginary relationships with unavailable women.
Joey sighed. Kasia and Tierney would have their work cut out trying to cheer them up this evening.
TWO
Marianne Browne swungthe office door open with a crash. “What the hell is going on, Amira?”
Her wife glanced up over the top of her laptop screen and tucked a cascade of salt-and-pepper curls behind her ear. “What now? Have they delivered the wrong kind of mushrooms again? Surely you can use your culinary genius to cope with the change.”
Marianne blinked. “What? I’m not talking about mushrooms. The bills, Amira. Why aren’t we paying our suppliers?”
She paced to the window and pulled up the blind, letting some light into Amira’s dim office. She was trying to stay calm, but finding out they owed money to suppliers was upsetting, not to mention embarrassing.
Amira let out a long sigh. “What’s the problem?”
“Joey O’Hara texted me. They haven’t been paid. And not for the last few deliveries. What the hell is going on? What about the others?” She paced around the small space, trying to breathe.
Amira leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Calm down, honey. It’ll be a mistake with the bank. We’ll get it sortedand Joey will keep bringing you those lovely ingredients for the dishes that keep our bookings full three months in advance.”
Marianne dropped into a chair and gripped the arms until she felt the weave of the fabric imprint onto her skin. “I can’t work like this. My reputation relies on me having professional relationships with suppliers. If a journalist got wind of this, I’d never work again.”
Amira snorted. “That’s a little dramatic.”
Amira’s relaxed attitude wasn’t doing anything to reassure her. She had been horrified to hear they were behind on payments. And to lovely Joey, whom she considered a friend.
