Page 5 of Changing Tides
“Chef?” Jimmy stood in front of her, an expectant expression on his face. She had no idea what he’d just said, but he was holding a bowl. She took it, lifted a spoon from a nearby counter and tasted.
“Too much seasoning.” She thrust it back into his hands and turned to her office. She couldn’t face anyone at the moment. Settled into her chair, she flicked through today’s lunch menu, checking off the jobs her staff should be undertaking to ensure a smooth lunchtime service.
“Are you okay?”
She looked up to see Colette’s head peeping around the door. “You can come in. I don’t have anything to throw.”
Colette sat down in the chair opposite. “You approved that sauce last night. Jimmy just wanted to know if you thought it would be a good addition to the batch of hollandaise he’s preparing.”
She rested her head on her fingers and pressed hard into the back of her eye sockets, where the deep pain of a headache was starting to bloom. “I’m sorry. Jimmy’s sauces are going from strength to strength. I’m just…” She raised her head. “I’m not having a good day.”
Colette reached across the desk and rubbed her arm. No one else in the kitchen would dare to touch her, but Colette had worked for her since she’d left culinary school. Her speedy rise tosous chef was in part due to her ability to know what Marianne needed at any given time.
What she really needed now was a hug and a cup of tea, but at least the reassuring touch was a form of contact.
“Why don’t you take the day off? Start your weekend early. There’s nothing here I can’t pick up.”
Much as she would love to take Colette up on the offer, she couldn’t be seen to be slacking when she expected such high standards from her team. “I’m fine, but I think I’ll stay in here and focus on menus. Unless I’m needed?”
Colette shook her head.
Marianne rubbed at her face. “Could you get someone to make me some coffee, please?”
Alone again, she dropped her head to the desk. What she really should be doing was looking at the accounts. If Amira was hiding anything about the finances, she needed to know now. But the thought of wading through spreadsheets with her current headache didn’t appeal. One of the many things that had worked so well in their early relationship was Amira enjoyed handling the money. She’d worked for years in her family’s import business before they met, and she’d always been confident with money in a way that worked well for their business relationship.
One of the junior staff arrived with a pot of coffee. She thanked him and poured a mug, taking a moment to just watch the steam float up. She took a long mouthful. It was still hot enough to be uncomfortable, and she enjoyed the burn as she swallowed.
She flicked open her laptop. It wouldn’t hurt to have a quick look at the accounts. She knew her way around a spreadsheet, but it was all so tedious when she just wanted to be creative. She located the folder on their shared drive, aptly named “Accounts” and flicked through the files until she found the current year.It was a blank sheet. She checked the tabs, but it really was empty; there was no content at all. She opened the one from last year. There was plenty of detail of all the income and expenses from the previous year, although as she looked more closely, she saw that as the year went on less and less had been recorded. Certainly, the activity around the Christmas season lacked any detail. She knew how many covers they’d served last December and had a rough idea in her head of the profit margin for all dishes. That was how she set the prices. So where were all the profits from that period?
She called Amira’s number, but her wife didn’t pick up. This was ridiculous. She must’ve started a new accounts system and not mentioned it to Marianne. Why would she do that?
Call me. I can’t find the accounts. She fired off the text, and then decided to focus on ordering for next week’s menus. That was something she could understand, and at least she’d tried with the finances.
She focused on work for a while, but as the list of produce she wanted to order from Joey O’Hara grew, an idea occurred to her. She opened another tab in her browser, then ran her hand across her brow, trying to recall the name of the hotel on the island. She’d visited, and could picture the imposing white building, but the name escaped her. She typed in “hotel Inishderry” and the name was there first in her search. Walsh’s Waterside Hotel.
The ferry to the island was only a half hour’s drive away, and the beaches would be quieter than the ones closest to the city. Denny would have fun and she could apologize properly to Joey and assure her supply of the best catch she’d found on the western seaboard. She called the hotel and spoke to Kasia, the manager, who she’d met a couple of times. She was very helpful, and Marianne was soon booked in. She sat back. Suddenly, things didn’t seem so stressful. Perhaps a weekend by the sea was exactly what she needed.
FOUR
Joey scanned the shore.They could swear they’d heard their name being called over the throb of Queen Maedbh’s engine as they pulled around the east side of the island. A few families explored the rock pools, but one figure was waving with both arms. Beside them, a small figure waved, too, though with slightly less coordination.
Joey pulled a little closer to the rocks before they recognized Marianne Browne and her son, Deniz. They waved back, trying not to appear as thrilled as they felt. They indicated toward the stone quay nearby and went to moor the boat, wondering what had brought Marianne to the island. She’d come to Inishderry a couple of times to record video footage for her social media channels, but she’d never visited with Denny before. Joey had met him plenty around the restaurant though, and always made time to talk to him. Marianne had confided that she was worried he wasn’t talking much yet, but he seemed a happy enough kid.
“Hey, what brings you to Inishderry?” They strode down the dock as Denny ran toward them, his little arms outstretched. They picked him up, but held him at arm’s length. “I smell of fish, Denny. Remember I told you I catch them for my job?”
Denny giggled and wriggled until Joey put him down. The boy kept his little hand in theirs as they waited together for Marianne to catch up.
“Deniz, we’ve talked about you running off like that.” There was a hint of gray around Marianne’s pale complexion and the lines between her pale blue eyes were deeper than ever. She was still beautiful, but Joey’s heart tightened to see her so worn out.
Denny ignored her and tried to drag Joey toward the boat. They hoped Marianne had a spare set of clothes for Denny as they scooped him up and sat him on their hip. “Hang on a minute, your mama’s talking to you.”
Denny wrapped his little arms around Joey and stared at his mother with big eyes. Marianne’s expression softened and she pushed his curly brown hair out of his face. “Hey, sweetpea, you’re supposed to stay with Mama when we’re out, remember?”
He nodded and held out his arms to her. Joey handed him over. “I’m sorry, I should’ve taken my coat off.”
Marianne took a sniff and looked up smiling. “Believe me, he’s smelled a lot worse.” She settled him and turned back to Joey. “It’s my fault, anyway, just turning up.”
“So why are you here? I’m going out to the oyster bed this weekend, but the weather isn’t looking good for filming.”
