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Authors: Marita Conlon-McKenna

BOOK: A Taste for Love
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Alice felt so relaxed after the food and the Bordeaux they were drinking. She curled up on the couch beside him, and found herself telling him about her trip to Galway.

‘It’s one of my favourite places, too; maybe some time we’ll go there together?’ he said.

‘Sure.’ Alice laughed, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Rob brought the remainder of the wine over and topped up both their glasses.

Go easy! she warned herself.

Rob told her about his childhood growing up on a large dairy farm in Tipperary.

‘They were great times and good fun, but milking cows day after day held no appeal for me, so I came to Dublin to study law.’

‘What did your dad say?’

‘I suppose in hindsight he was very disappointed, as I was the eldest. My brother Johnny, who’s a dentist, had no interest in the place either, but at least my younger brother Alan was mad about farming, and Dad made it all over to him years ago. Alan has built it up and increased the herd and is a real farmer; he hates leaving the place!’

Alice told him about her parents’ hotel and the summers there.

‘It was kind of magical, I suppose, with the beach and the guests, and working along with my mum in the kitchen. It was such a happy time!’

‘Then?’

‘Then, like you, I came to Dublin to study, to do a course in catering, and after two years I went to Brittany to get work experience but had to come home when my mum died suddenly. I suppose, like you, I didn’t know if I wanted to stay and run the family business. But my dad made me go back to France. There I trained under a fantastic chef called Maurice Aubert in the Rivoli, which was one of Paris’s best
restaurants. The hours and the pay were crazy but I learned so much. Eventually I came back to Dublin and worked in Wilde with Myles Malone, which was a great experience.’

‘It’s funny the way fate interferes in our lives,’ he said seriously, taking hold of her hand. ‘Alice, if I hadn’t seen the note about your cookery school I would never have joined, and then we might never have met.’

‘We might have bumped into each other, anyway,’ she teased. ‘We do live very near each other.’

‘Both of us losing someone … and the loneliness of it!’

‘Rob,’ she said softly. ‘Kate dying must have been awful for you, but Liam’s alive, and though he’s an utter rat, he’s still around.’

‘What I’m trying to say …’ Rob laughed, ‘is that I’m glad we met. I thought when Kate died I’d never meet anyone again, and then suddenly you came along!’

His expression was serious, and before she knew it Alice was in his arms, and he was kissing her. His lips were strong and his mouth tasted of wine, and she found herself responding to him kissing her. It was so long since a man had wanted her, and she found herself lowering her inhibitions and needing to be closer to him. Rob’s hands touched the line of her breasts as he kissed her. Suddenly she looked in his eyes and could see the loss and loneliness and lust in his eyes. He wanted a woman, maybe any woman, to make him feel better, to wipe away the memory temporarily of the woman who stared out at them from the photographs. She had drunk a lot of wine, but somehow her head felt clear. He’d been expecting too much tonight … she should have seen that.

‘Stop, Rob!’ she shushed, taking his hand in hers. ‘Stop. Slow down. I’m not ready for this yet.’

He groaned, pulling away from her. Alice got up.

She went down to the kitchen and made them more coffee. Rob sat on the chair with his head in his hands.

‘Have I blown it?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she said, serious. ‘You’re a lovely man, Rob Flanagan, but it’s just that I’m not sure about this yet. We’ve had such a great time together, and I really enjoy being with you, but I don’t know that either of us is ready to start another relationship.’

Chapter Twenty-eight

Lucy poured herself a glass of chilled orange juice and put a slice of brown bread in the toaster.

‘I was thinking I might cook dinner for us all again tonight,’ she offered. ‘Alice showed us a great chicken dish with Parma ham a few weeks ago, and I could try that.’

‘Sounds good,’ nodded David Brennan, putting down the
Irish Times
.

‘That would be lovely, darling,’ said Nina, relieved that sending Lucy to Alice’s cookery school was actually paying off. ‘Do you want me to get some things in the supermarket?’

‘No, Mum. This time I’ll get the food.’

Lucy found the fact that her mum and dad were still keeping her embarrassing. She hated that she still needed her parents to bale her out at her age, but at least she had some funds now that she’d made some money from the T-shirts they were selling.

‘And if it’s OK with the two of you I’ve invited Finn along,’ she said. She added, ‘Dad, Finn and I need to talk to you about something.’

Lucy could see the dart of anxiety that flashed between her parents, and laughed.

‘Nah, it’s nothing bad … just good. The T-shirts we’ve been selling in Temple Bar are doing great, and we just need a bit of business advice, Dad.’

‘Sure,’ said David, unable to hide his relief that Lucy was not involved in some catastrophe or other.

Lucy shopped carefully, choosing free-range chicken breasts, mozzarella cheese, asparagus and all the ingredients for the chocolate pudding pots which she knew her mum would love. A bottle of really good wine which was luckily on special offer in the off-licence and she was set. She had warned Finn to be on time at her parents’ home no matter what happened. Everything went smoothly in the kitchen, and she had the table set. The only way to keep her mum from interfering was to offer her parents a pre-dinner gin and tonic in the sitting room.

‘Hey, you look great,’ she said when Finn arrived in perfect clean jeans with his black boots and a ‘Busy Stargazing’ T-shirt under a grey and white striped shirt. Even his long hair was freshly washed and shampooed, and he had shaved.

‘You look pretty hot yourself,’ he said, hugging her and lifting her off her feet.

She was glad that she’d worn the cute red ladybird-print skirt with her black leggings and a little black cardigan.

She brought Finn in and introduced him to her parents, and Finn was so relaxed and nice they were all talking together in only a few minutes.

*

Finn helped her serve dinner, and the food was just delicious, and she could tell her mum was dead impressed by what she was learning. She even begged Lucy to give her a copy of the recipe so she could make the chicken dish for her friends, too. Her dad cleaned his plate and actually wanted a bit more …

The chocolate dessert was yummy, and turned out even better than the first time she had made it, and her mum and dad loved the wine.

Finn was winning them over, and they were intrigued when he told them all about the different design things he’d worked on over the years and some of the awards he’d won.

‘Disgraceful, that a talented young man like you is forced on to the dole queue,’ muttered David Brennan angrily. ‘It’s no wonder the country is the way it is when they won’t give young people like you and Lucy a chance!’

‘Well, that’s why we’re making our own chances,’ Finn replied.

‘And setting up a business of our own.’ Lucy smiled.

‘But you’ve no experience of business!’ worried her mother.

‘Mum, I’ve been working in businesses and shops selling stuff since I was about sixteen!’ Lucy reminded her. ‘I’m used to getting people to buy things, and finding out what works and what doesn’t, especially for people our age.’

‘What kind of business are you starting?’ David asked, interested.

‘T-shirts,’ explained Finn. ‘We’ve been selling hundreds of them over the past few weeks and have lots of new orders.’

‘Finn is so talented and creative, and doesn’t really realize how good he is at designing things,’ Lucy explained. ‘Simple things like T-shirts that are a kind of statement.’

‘In our day we had the Che Guevara ones and the peace ones.’ Nina laughed. ‘Everyone had them, and the posters up on their wall, too … they were everywhere.’

‘Well, I’m not sure we’re as big as that.’ Finn grinned. ‘But there is a bit of a buzz about them.’

‘The thing is, we can only handle one market stall,’ explained Lucy, ‘and be in the one place, but there are markets everywhere, and Finn and I are hoping to take a stall at Oxegen and at Electric Picnic, and some of the other big music festivals in the summer, to see how they go.’

‘Sounds exciting for the two of you.’ Nina Brennan smiled.

‘Duggy, one of the guys who helps us, says he thinks we should set up a website to sell them so that people can check them out online and see and buy the new T-shirt designs,’ Finn continued.

‘Sounds exactly what you need,’ said David Brennan. ‘Is that what you want a bit of advice about?’

‘Yes,’ said Finn. ‘This is all new to us. I can design the website but setting up the whole ordering and business end of it is different.’

‘You know most of the business loan applications that pass my desk in the bank nowadays have to have some kind of web-based plan to work. Just depending on shop trade is almost a thing of the past, as even if a person doesn’t actually pay and buy online they will often make the decision about the item they want to purchase there, and then go into a shop to pay for it. Business is changing, and they reckon in another ten years most purchases will be online.’

‘Incredible,’ Nina said. She had no intention of ever giving up her lovely shopping trips.

‘You may do a lot of the design work yourself, Finn, but
you will need to pay something for a good website, especially one with a secure payment facility. And then you will need some working capital to cover manufacturing and storage and distribution of your T-shirts,’ David Brennan said.

‘I know,’ said Finn. ‘Lucy and I have been talking about it. At the moment we have the boxes in my bedroom in the apartment, which is OK, but I might run out of space.’

‘No, that’s all got to be sorted,’ advised David. ‘You can try a small bank loan, though I know credit committees aren’t great when they see that applicants are unemployed. Otherwise, you could maybe talk to the local enterprise board and see if they would give you a bit of backing. They have some office spaces and low-cost small business units available, and offer a pretty good advisory service for young entrepreneurs like you two. I know Colm Higgins, and if you want I could give him a call and see if we could set up a meeting with him.’

‘Thanks, Dad, that would be great!’ Lucy enthused, delighted by his support.

‘I’ve some designs for a website on my laptop, if you want to have look, Mr Brennan?’

‘David, please,’ insisted Lucy’s dad, clearing the table so they could all take a look at some of Finn’s web ideas.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Florence Sullivan walked slowly through Dublin’s Botanic Gardens. All the spring bulbs were out and the place was a mass of colour. Red and yellow and pink tulips were everywhere!

‘“A host of golden daffodils, beside the lake, between the trees” … aren’t they just like the ones in the Wordsworth poem?’ Florence Sullivan smiled as they strolled up along by the riverside. Tessa had known her mother would love this outing to one of her favourite places. It was great to see the public gardens as the seasons changed, with their magnificent floral displays and beds created by the gardeners, but probably the best part of the Botanic Gardens was the woodland, filled with trails, that bordered the river. They stopped to watch the swans and their young cygnets on the water and a clutch of young ducklings following their mother further down. Out of the corner of her eye Tessa spotted a little boy on his own coming towards them, his father trying to race after him, as he’d clambered out of his buggy and was stepping dangerously near the water’s edge in his determination to get to the ‘duckies’. Tessa scooped him up and,
ignoring the two-year-old’s surprised protests, handed him back to his dad.

‘Thanks! He’s an utter devil! We need eyes in the back of our heads to keep up with him!’

She stifled a pang of envy as she noticed the heavily pregnant young woman rushing to join them.

Over near the gazebo some of the white and purple magnolias were starting to come into bloom, and, taking a rest on one of the park benches, Tessa and her mother laughed, watching the antics of a pair of squirrels who were racing up and down a beech tree.

‘Mum, let’s have a look in the glasshouses,’ Tessa suggested. ‘And then we’ll have some lunch.’

The glasshouses had been restored within the last few years and were magnificent, with their array of hothouse flowers and orchids and lilies. Florence Sullivan picked out some favourites and read up about them from the information provided. After a quick wander around the impressive Palm House they made for the restaurant.

‘Soup and a sandwich for me,’ ordered her mother, as Tessa went up to join the queue.

‘Thanks,’ said Florence, as they sat at the table eating.

‘Mum, it’s just some carrot and orange soup and a roll.’

‘No. I don’t mean that,’ continued her mother, her pretty face serious. ‘For this … for everything.’

‘Mum, it’s a pleasure coming up here on a day like this. You know I’ve loved the Botanic Gardens ever since I was a little girl, when you and Dad used to bring us.’

‘No, Tessa, it’s not just coming here to the gardens, it’s everything you do for me. I appreciate what you have done so
much. You have given up so much to come back here,’ Florence said, folding her napkin in half. ‘You were always the kind one and the big-hearted one! Now it is you that has given up your career, given up that lovely flat of yours in London and your busy life, to come back to Dublin and spend most of your time with a foolish old woman.’

‘I wanted to, Mum. Nobody forced me,’ Tessa said evenly. ‘You have been so good to all of us. We all had such a great childhood and time growing up, and that was down to you and Dad. I wanted to come back to be with you.’

‘I just worry about you,’ Florence said softly. ‘This is not what I planned.’

‘Mum, I messed up some of my life on my own, so don’t go blaming yourself! I was the one who wasted almost eight years with Grant, thinking that we were going to end up getting married, and that once he got over his divorce everything would be fine. I thought I’d have a house in Surrey, a place in Spain and a great life, and that if Grant didn’t want more kids then that was OK! I was so bloody stupid.’

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