Blessed Are the Cheesemakers by Sarah-Kate Lynch

Author:Sarah-Kate Lynch
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780759528130
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Did she look like a vegetarian to you?” Fee asked in the emptiness that had stayed behind in the kitchen.

“I’m not sure,” answered Kit. “What do vegetarians look like?”

“Never mind,” said Fee.

Coolarney House probably wasn’t the best place in the world to get a feel for what the average vegetarian looked like, now that he came to think about it, what with the gestation situation and all.

Kit stood up behind the table. “Look,” he said, “I really should go find Avis O’Regan.”

“Not at all,” said Fee. “You’ve waited all day, you can wait a bit longer. Besides, I need help peeling the potatoes and I want to talk to you about cheese.”

Nothing this guy said ever quite hung together, Kit had noticed. Yet strangely, it didn’t seem to matter. Fee handed him some sheets of old newspaper, a bowl filled with dirty potatoes, and a small instrument with a rubber handle and a blade, which Kit presumed was a peeler of some sort. Where he came from, potatoes didn’t have skins and were brought to you on a plate by a whippet-thin would-be actress with attitude. Since Jacey, he had not eaten a single meal in his own apartment, and even with her he’d only cooked a handful of times. He sighed at the thought of Jacey and concentrated instead on trying to operate the peeler without removing the top three layers of skin from his thumb.

Fee, watching Kit slyly out of the corner of his eye, was standing at the kitchen counter preparing a leg of beef. He knew he was right to feel the way he did about Kit. The poor devil had waited all day in the boiling sunshine but still had the brains to work out what a dote was. He’d arrived at Coolarney on the right day at the right time. And he had great long fingers on him. These were currently having trouble wrangling potatoes, true, but manual dexterity aside he bore all the signs of a natural cheesemaker.

“So, you’ve not done much with your hands, then?” Fee suggested, as another potato rolled away from Kit’s grasp and onto the floor.

“Well, that would depend on what you call much, I suppose,” said Kit, looking under the table for the escapee and locating it with his foot. “I work in finance, as an investment broker, so I’m on the phone and the computer a lot.”

“Oh, like a secretary?” Fee said, without much interest.

“Kinda,” admitted Kit, “I guess.” Take away the zeroes and he supposed it was a bit like being a secretary. “So Abbey and Corrie haven’t seen each other in a while, huh?” he asked, changing the subject, his face contorting with the concentration required by the petulant potatoes.

“That’s right,” said Fee. “She’s been over in the Pacific Islands doing good works.”

That figured, thought Kit. She did have that slightly bad-haircut Christian look about her. “And she’s what? Like, his granddaughter?”

“That’s right,” said Fee again, bashing thyme, garlic and lemon rind together with olive oil using an ancient mortar and pestle.

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