Page 52 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

Black bacon & lemon butter sauce

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Raspberry Cakewith passionfruit sorbet

Salted caramel ice-creamwith peanut brittle

Chocolate fondantwith blackberry cream

* * *

Irish cheeses

Apple chutney, oat crackers

‘By heck,its making my mouth water,’ Hattie said to Jo as they stood by the door and watched guests tucking in, as staff whirled by.

‘Dining is like theatre,’ Jo said. ‘Timing is critical and guests need to be entertained with each course.’

‘Well, you’ve pulled off a great show tonight, just look at the smiling faces.’

The two women studied the guests. With tongues loosened with pre-dinner cocktails and wines accompanying the meal, their happy faces reflected the ambience of the evening. For their first night at Boomerville Manor, they’d been seated together on a long mahogany table, the centre filled with flickering candles, white-petalled lilies and an assortment of foliage from the garden. Glasses clinked and conversation became animated as each course arrived.

‘They’ll sleep like babies,’ Jo said, noticing one or two yawns as coffee was served.

‘Well, not just yet.’ Hattie nudged Jo’s arm and inclined her head to the doorway where Finbar had entered the room.

Immaculately dressed in a smart lounge suit, he held a microphone as he came forward.

‘What the devil’s going on?’ Jo turned to Hattie, her eyebrows raised.

‘I thought the guests might enjoy a bit of after dinner entertainment.’

‘Bloody hell, Hattie, you could have told me.’

‘Aye, well, you’d only have said no.’

‘I most certainly would.’ Jo looked at her watch. ‘It’s nearly ten o’clock and we’ve a busy day tomorrow; I’m sure both guests and staff would appreciate an early night.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

They watched as Finbar introduced himself and as he walked around the room, shaking hands with the guests, a waiter produced a fiddle and began to play, then Finbar began to sing, ‘As I was goin’ over, the Cork and Kerry Mountains…’

A bottle of whisky appeared and shots were poured. Everyone raised their glass and joined Finbar in the chorus.

Musha rain dum a doo, dum a da

Whack for my daddy, oh

Whack for my daddy, oh

There’s whiskey in the jar

‘Oh,Lord, and there will be far too much whisky in the guests if the night carries on like this.’ Jo shook her head. ‘Really, Hattie, do we need to get everyone absolutely slaughtered on their first night?’

‘Ease up, loosen your knicker elastic, you’re in Ireland now, the guests expect a bit of craic on their first night.’

Finbar held his hands up and smiled, relishing the hearty applause. ‘More!’ a guest called out as another put his fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle.

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