Aisling's Summer Diary

Chapter 29 | The Big Time

Overnight the Shark’s Tooth had been transformed from a sleepy seaside hotel to a non-stop beach party: gangs of kids trailing soggy towels up the stairs, troupes of girls demanding skimmed milk lattes and extra pillows, and lads, hordes of them, signing off-key rock ballads into the night!  Ciaran was right.  We needed every free hand we’ve got!

Tuesday 13 June 

2 p.m.

I had no idea how big a job it would be to run the hotel at capacity.  Everyone is up the walls!  Ali and I are on laundry duty (no small task when you’re making up beds for thirty), Murphy and Slater are doing the heavy cleaning (floors and what not), Siobhan and Ciaran are heading up the queries and complaints department, and Celia and Fiona are filling in all of the gaps—fetching laundry detergent and Detol and food for the pantry!  Oh, and Celia’s got Nico scrubbing the toilets!  How’s THAT for poetic justice?!  HA! 

I’m trying not to notice, but there is a super-strange vibe with Murphy and Slater rubbing elbows at almost every turn here in the hotel.  Every time I run into them, they’re mildly bristling at one another and WAYYY too keen to chat with me.  So much for me having my own space! 

Ali is having much better luck when it comes to affairs of the heart.  He and Fiona have been more or less glued to each other’s sides since Celia came on board.  Generally, smiley saccharine-sweet couples make me want to gag—but the way these two dote on each other!  It’s just so honest and automatic.  Fiona must be dreading the end of the month when the three of us trek back to Dublin.  It’s so funny: for the first few weeks we were here, all she wanted was for Ali to disappear.  Now that’s the one thing she DOESN’T want!  I really hope they make a go at keeping in touch.   

4 p.m.

Tonight would be my first real test as the Shark’s Tooth Hotel’s resident chef.  I’d be making a full-on three course dinner for thirty people!  And that’s not counting all of us!  I thought about sticking to what I knew (and to what I’d learned from Slater’s recipe book), but after prepping the starters—chicken wings, baked spinach dip, and an assortment of organic salads—I decided to go on my own for the main event: my very own Fitzsimmonds seafood chowder.

I had just laid out everything I’d need for the fish stock when Slater came sidling into the kitchen.  Come to rescue me, I presumed, from making a fool of myself with a charred main course.  “You’re cooking for thirty, right?  I could lend a hand.”  Bingo.  I very politely told him thanks but no thanks, and if he could please go, I’d appreciate it.  I didn’t really have time for small talk.  Slater heaved a sigh and took a step closer.  “Murphy said you’d be difficult...”  

I froze, then half-turned to face him.  “You talked to Murphy?”  Slater grinned.  “Yeah.”  That must have been a short conversation, I thought.  “He told me if I wanted to get you to go out with me, I’d have to make some grand gesture—show you you’re not just another girl on the beach.  He said if I didn’t I’d regret it.”  My heart lurched.  I had no idea that to Murphy, I wasn’t just “some other girl,” I was THE girl, and he regretted having let me slip away.  

“So can I help you?” Slater asked.  “All I need’s a chef to tell me what to do.”  A chef?  Did he mean me?  Chef Aisling—I did like the sound of that.  I threw Slater an apron and he squared up to me at the chopping board.  “Friends again?”  Definitely.  I brought the flat of my knife down on a clove of garlic and smashed it flat, than minced it rapid-fire.  “Slater,” I said, “listen, that whole scene with the posters, I never thought it—”  He shook his head at me.  “Forget about it.  No worries.”  

With Slater’s help, I was able to finish off the chowder in no time, and it smelled amazing!  Guests kept wandering past the kitchen and poking their heads in, transfixed by the warm scent of cream and onions (expertly chopped), mussels and haddock!  Slater had me laughing pretty much the whole time—he’s such a goof.  

I set out the starters and took a good long look, Slater clapping me on the back.  For the first time in ages I felt like I knew who Aisling Fitzsimmonds was.  She was funny and talented and loyal, and she was all of those things because she had the best friends in the world!

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