Grace dragged herself though the day. She was going through the motions but not feeling herself at all. About midday she sat down with her list and a cup of tea only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. She must have forgotten something.
She opened the door to a small man dressed in a suit like he was selling something. In fact he did sell a service, he was the property consultant she had called. His name was Jimmy Tunney. Not exactly what she expected in terms of a professional, but then again, this was not Dublin.
“Hello miss. You called about an appraisal on this cottage? Are you looking to sell?” Jimmy questioned as soon as Grace took his card.
“Why yes, I wanted an appraisal so I could make a decision about the sale. Do you do that?” Grace was a little concerned about Jimmy's credentials, but thought she'd give it a go.
“Could I have a look see? I need to know what you've got here. Seems well kept up from the outside. New paint?” Jimmy seemed to never stop talking.
“Yes, the outside has been freshly painted. Inside it's just had a good cleaning up. There are 3 bedrooms ensuite upstairs, and one down here. The kitchen is large and the appliances are not too old,” Grace was trying to show off the best parts of the cottage.
Jimmy roamed from room to room, nodding his head, muttering to himself, taking down a note or two as he wandered the cottage.
“Yep, this here's a nice enough place. It's really a shame though,” Jimmy turned to Grace with this reply.
“A shame what?” Grace asked. She could not read this guy for the life of her.
“Oh, I'm just talkin' about the market right now. You'd never get near a penny to it's worth. Money is tight, and folks are not doing much purchasing right now. At least not places this big. Maybe if it was a small two bedroom cottage for a newly wed couple, but not this place. It would be a huge loss financially,” Jimmy concluded his assessment.
“So you're saying you won't take this on for sale?” Grace was trying to get a straight answer.
“Miss, I'd gladly take it on, but with what you should be askin', it will be on the market for months, maybe a year or more. This is just not the time to sell a place like this. Can't you continue running it as a B&B? You'd probably be making some decent money doing that.” Jimmy was trying to explain.
“What is it with everyone? I'm not a B&B owner. I work in Dublin. I have a job there. I can't stay here,” Grace was getting very frustrated.
“No need to holler miss, but you'd do just as well shutting the door and walking away for a while if you need to go back to the Big Smoke. I'm just saying that sales are tough right now and I'm not even sure I could sell it on the cheap.”
“Well, then, I guess we're done doing any business if you can't, or won't sell this place, Jimmy,” Grace was tired and cranky and Jimmy's news was not very welcome. “Thanks for coming out.”
Grace was totally frustrated now. Whatever was she going to do? She needed to get back to Dublin on the weekend. Maybe being back in the city would help her figure out what to do. She could just lock up the place and come back in a couple of weeks on a weekend to see if she had any better ideas. For the time being it might make a nice weekend get away for her. Problem was she didn't like the idea of roaming around this big empty place alone either. It was too big just for her.
For now she needed to finish up dinner preparations for when Peter arrived. The least she could do was make him a scrumptious dinner with his favorite scones for desert. It was difficult to stop thinking about what she was going to do. Distracted was hardly what she needed now. The lamb pie needed all her focus. If she wasn't careful she would burn the crusty topping and all would be lost with the burnt smell.
Grace forced herself to concentrate on the recipe. Aine always had her little secret additions of herbs, or spices that made the difference in a recipe. But with lamb pie, using spring lamb, there was not much to be added in terms of flavor. Spring lamb fed on the flowers and grasses of the hillsides. Their meat was tender and juicy without any fuss. But overcooked, or burned turned some very special meal into a disaster. So focus she did with all the intensity she could muster. Soon the kitchen was perfumed with the smell of the stewing meat and Grace was pleased with how the meal was progressing. The pie topping would be added the last few minutes to brown in the oven.
Now just a gathering of some fresh greens and for a salad and she was ready to set the table. Once Grace was in the rhythm of making all the preparations, she flowed from kitchen to dining table effortlessly as it she had been doing this all her life. It was just another dinner party, but she hardly thought about anything but a beautiful table and the delicious food she would be putting out. She was feeling very comfortable in this role while she didn't even realize it.
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