Hearts On Fire Episode 08
Marianna stood back, chatting to Océane as the young French woman prepared vegetables for gallina ubriaca – a typical local dish.
But her attention was fixed on the interactions taking place beneath the canvas umbrella.
“Marianna!” Océane’s voice slammed into her thoughts like a dodgem ramming her side.
She jumped.
“What?”
“Why don’t you take a siesta?” the young woman suggested. “You are in my way and staring into space.
“I know what I’m doing, and you have a long evening ahead.”
“I am not staring into space,” Marianna replied. “I’m watching the new tutor, in case she needs help.”
“And does she?”
“Not so far,” she admitted.
Julia had interviewed the two most difficult guests and both were smiling.
A miracle was happening.
“You know your problem?” Océane continued in a manner Marianna was not used to in her cooks.
Each season Marianna hired a different chef, newly qualified and wanting to earn money and gain experience before entering into their career.
Most were polite and hard-working because they needed a good reference.
“My problem, Océane, is my business is close to collapse,” she retorted.
“No. Your problem is you like to be in control. You need to let other people do some jobs.”
“Delegate?” Marianna suggested.
“Yes. Jacopo can run the office and marketing, but you don’t trust him.”
Marianna opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again.
Jacopo had been saying the same thing. But Jacopo had been spending far too much time with Océane.
Marianna had caught them talking about the business more than once.
Perhaps it wasn’t Jacopo taking over that she feared, so much as Océane.
“And why do you employ an art tutor? You could do what she does.” Océane pointed her knife towards Julia, who was smiling as her next guest approached.
“You said I need to delegate more, not less,” Marianna pointed out.
“But you could save costs and gain another guest room. Let Jacopo manage everything else.
“He has the skills. And all this will be his one day, no? He needs to learn.”
The nagging doubt that Océane had designs on the business as well as Jacopo flared.
“I can’t fill all the rooms I have now,” Marianna answered, but there was much to think about.
She felt anxious when she was out of the office.
Jacopo was invaluable for tending the grounds and the animals, and transporting guests, but leaving him with the computer all day?
Those two often had their heads together.
If Marianna weren’t at home, the cook would spend less time in the kitchen, and Jacopo less time among the lemon groves.
She chewed her nails as she recalled what Jacopo was doing now.
He’d taken Mark, the Englishman who seemed terrified of fire, to check over the few chickens and the pigs they kept, and talk about fire safety.
Marianna was supposed to be finding alternative accommodation for him, but hoped Jacopo could persuade him to stay.
She’d stall for a while.
Jacopo would convince their anxious guest that Villa Davide was a farm and not, as Mark claimed, a misrepresentation.
Hopefully the worried guest wouldn’t complain and leave one-star online reviews, because that was the last thing she needed.
Also, Jacopo understood fire prevention and response in the mountains.
If anyone could calm Mark Lyons, it was her son.
If he failed, she could find alternative accommodation in minutes.
Marianna sighed and decided to take Océane’s advice.
Julia and Debbie were laughing together, and Charlie was dozing.
Wizzy was sketching, and Bruno, Marianna’s dog, was pottering between guests, enjoying pats and tickles.
Perhaps Océane was right and she needed some downtime.
She moved towards the door.
“Don’t forget to use black olives.”
“For the potato dischetti. I know, Marianna. I am a trained chef. Please have faith in me.”
Marianna nodded and stepped on to the terrazza.
“Bruno, come here. Let’s go for a walk.”
The little dog dragged his attention from the guest who was rubbing his tummy and gazed at his owner with pleading eyes.
She stood with her hands on her hips and repeated the words more firmly .
“Bruno! Walkies!”
That did the trick.
He bounded over and ran in circles at her feet, yipping excitedly, his fluffy ears bouncing about.
His black button eyes and nose shone with glee.
What irony. Marianna felt she was running in tight circles, too, but she hadn’t felt glee for years.
To be continued…