Chapter Thirty-Five
I get to the farmers’ market and discover someone is in my pitch.
It’s the snag man. He raises a set of long-handled tongs at me by way of a greeting.
I’m silently seething. There’s a small space in the shade on the other side of the lane.
It’s not as nice as the pitch we should’ve had, but it’s the only space left.
I’m pushed back practically into an alleyway, out of the way of passing footfall.
I carry the small table and two chairs from the van, which is parked in a nearby school.
Then I bring over the crates of oysters.
I lay out the plastic glasses, the box of wine and paper plates.
All I have to do now is wait for customers.
I pick up an oyster and try and remember how Sean taught me to open it.
I don’t have to wait too long to practise.
The first of my customers sit themselves down at the table and I serve them wine.
Then, with shaking hands, I start to open their half-dozen oysters.
It’s slow. At first I can’t do it, can’t get the knife in, but I remember Sean’s arms around me and push the knife into the hinge firmly.
Hey presto! I did it! After that the customers come in a steady stream all day, and with each six I shuck I become more and more relaxed.
I even accept a hot dog from the snag man by way of apology.
It’s nearing the end of the day and my money bag is full.
I’m serving oysters to a couple of American tourists from Seattle, when I hear a voice I recognise behind me and I freeze.
‘Henri, it’s all in hand. I have agreed to take all the native oysters and said they will only be sold in the restaurant.
But I’ll have plenty of surplus and that’s what I’m offering you.
You’re to deal with me, not him. I’m the broker.
He’ll never know. Has some idea that he wants the oysters to stay local.
Doesn’t want them to travel. But I’ll pay Sean a flat rate for them, tell him they’re for my restaurant, and then I’ll sell what I don’t need on to you and your customers out there.
The profit margin will be fantastic.’ My stomach turns over.
I turn round quickly to see Nancy coming out of a low purple front door, off the main street. I look up at the sign. The Pearl. Of course, her new restaurant. She has no intention of putting Sean on the map as a supplier. She just wants the oysters and the profit for herself.
She spots me, quickly finishes her phone call and slams the phone shut. She stops, and by the look of it is gathering her thoughts. Then she comes towards me.
‘Fi. Not Sean’s usual pitch,’ she smiles smoothly.
‘Is he here?’ she looks around. I shake my head.
I’m so incensed I can’t speak. ‘Good oysters, aren’t they?
’ She turns to the American couple, who agree.
‘Come back when my restaurant opens, we’ll have native Galway oysters then, they’re really something special,’ she says charmingly.
‘So it seems. Sounds like you’re going to have more oysters than you can handle.
’ The words are out of my mouth before I’ve even had a chance to think about how terrified of Nancy I am.
But my blood is boiling. She’s sending the oysters to France.
It’s just what Sean didn’t want, and by the sounds of it, to add insult to injury, she’s cutting him out of the deal as well.
Nancy pours herself a finger of white wine from the box, takes a sip and gives a grimace, letting me know my choice of wine is a joke.
‘Whatever you think you may have heard, Sean will never believe the hired help over his partner. I’d think very carefully before blabbing about things you know nothing about.
Without me, Sean doesn’t have a hope of selling any oysters.
He’ll be doing market stalls for the rest of his life and that won’t pay for his licence.
’ She knocks back the rest of the wine, turns and smiles at the American tourists.
‘Don’t forget to come back and visit me.
’ She points to the restaurant sign and disappears into the crowds, pulling out her phone and putting it to her ear again.